+---------------------------------------------------------------------+| Transcriber's Notes || || 1. Where possible, punctuation has been normalized to contemporary || standards. || 2. Diacritical marks are as they appeared in the printed book, and || may not reflect current usage. || 3. Obvious typographic and spelling errors have been corrected. |+---------------------------------------------------------------------+

[Illustration: Suzette (Renee Adoree) makes the tedious hours of thewounded Sir Nicholas Thormonde (Lew Cody) seem less monotonous. (A scenefrom Elinor Glyn's production "Man and Maid" for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer)]

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MAN AND MAID

By ELINOR GLYN

A. L. BURT COMPANYPublishers New York

Published by arrangement with J. B. Lippincott CompanyPrinted in U. S. A. 

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COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY ELINOR GLYN

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MAN AND MAID

I

 February, 1918. 

I am sick of my life--The war has robbed it of all that a young man canfind of joy. 

I look at my mutilated face before I replace the black patch over theleft eye, and I realize that, with my crooked shoulder, and the leg gonefrom the right knee downwards, that no woman can feel emotion for meagain in this world. 

So be it--I must be a philosopher. 

Mercifully I have no near relations--Mercifully I am still very rich, mercifully I can buy love when I require it, which under thecircumstances, is not often. 

Why do people write journals? Because human nature is filled withegotism. There is nothing so interesting to oneself as oneself; andjournals cannot yawn in one's face, no matter how lengthy the expressionof one's feelings may be!

A clean white page is a sympathetic thing, waiting there to receiveone's impressions!

Suzette supped with me, here in my _appartement_ last night--When shehad gone I felt a beast. I had found her attractive on Wednesday, andafter an excellent lunch, and two Benedictines, I was able to persuademyself that her tenderness and passion were real, and not the result ofsome thousands of francs, --And then when she left I saw my face in theglass without the patch over the socket, and a profound depression fellupon me. 

Is it because I am such a mixture that I am this rotten creature?--AnAmerican grandmother, a French mother, and an English father. Paris--Eton--Cannes--Continuous traveling. Some years of living andenjoying a rich orphan's life. --The war--fighting--a zest hithertoundreamed of--unconsciousness--agony--and then?--well now Paris againfor special treatment. 

Why do I write this down? For posterity to take up the threadscorrectly?--Why?

From some architectural sense in me which must make a beginning, even ofa journal, for my eyes alone, start upon a solid basis?

I know not--and care not. 

 * * * * *

Three charming creatures are coming to have tea with me to-day. They hadheard of my loneliness and my savageness from Maurice--They burn to giveme their sympathy--and have tea with plenty of sugar in it--andchocolate cake. 

I used to wonder in my salad days what the brains of women were madeof--when they have brains!--The cleverest of them are generally devoidof a logical sense, and they seldom understand the relative value ofthings, but they make the charm of life, for one reason or another. 

When I have seen these three I will dissect them. A divorcée--a warwidow of two years--and the third with a husband fighting. 

All, Maurice assures me, ready for anything, and highly attractive. Itwill do me a great deal of good, he protests. We shall see. 

_Night. _ They came, with Maurice and Alwood Chester, of the American RedCross. They gave little shrill screams of admiration for the room. 

"_Quel endroit delicieux!_--What _boiserie_! English?--Yes, of course, English _dix-septième_, one could see--What silver!--and cleaned--Andeverything of a _chic_!--And the hermit so _séduisant_ with his air_maussade_!--_Hein. _"

"Yes, the war is much too long--One has given of one's time in the firstyear--but now, really, fatigue has overcome one!--and surely after thespring offensive peace _must_ come soon--and one must live!"

They smoked continuously and devoured the chocolate cake, then they hadliqueurs. 

They were so well dressed! and so lissome. They wore elastic corsets, ornone at all. They were well painted; cheeks of the new tint, ratherapricot coloured--and magenta lips. They had arranged themselves whenthey had finished munching, bringing out their gold looking-glasses andtheir lip grease and their powder--and the divorcee continued toendeavour to enthrall my senses with her voluptuous half closing of theeyes, while she reddened her full mouth. 

They spoke of the theatre, and the last _bons mots_ about their _cherèsamies_--the last liasons--the last passions--They spoke ofGabrielle--her husband was killed last week--'So foolish of him, sinceone of Alice's 'friends' among the Ministers could easily have got him asoft job, and one must always help one's friends! Alice adoredGabrielle. --But he has left her well provided for--Gabrielle will lookwell in her crepe--and there it is, war is war--_Que voulez vous?_'

"After all, will it be as agreeable if peace does come this summer?--Onewill be able to dance openly--that will be nice--but for the rest? Itmay be things will be more difficult--and there may be complications. One has been very well during the war--very well, indeed--_N'est ce pasma cherie--n'est ce pas?_"

Thus they talked. 

The widow's lover is married, Maurice tells me, and has been able tokeep his wife safely down at their place in Landes, but if peace shouldcome he must be _en famille_, and the wife can very well be disagreeableabout the affair. 

The divorcée's three lovers will be in Paris at the same time. Themarried one's husband returned for good--"Yes, certainly, peace willhave its drawbacks--The war knows its compensations--But considerableones!"

When they had departed, promising to return very soon--to dinner thistime, and see all the "exquisite _appartement_, " Burton came into theroom to take away the tea things. His face was a mask as he swept up thecigarette ash, which had fallen upon the William and Mary English lactable, which holds the big lamp, then he carefully carried away thesilver ash trays filled with the ends, and returned with them cleaned. Then he coughed slightly. 

"Shall I open the window, Sir Nicholas?"

"It is a beastly cold evening. "

He put an extra log on the fire and threw the second casement wide. 

"You'll enjoy your dinner better now, Sir, " he said, and left meshivering. 

 * * * * *

I wish I were a musician, I could play to myself. I have still my twohands, though perhaps my left shoulder hurts too much to play often. Myone eye aches when I read for too long, and the stump below the knee istoo tender still to fit the false leg on to, and I cannot, because of myshoulder, use my crutch overmuch, so walking is out of the question. These trifles are perhaps, the cause of my ennui with life. 

I suppose such women as those who came to-day fulfill some purpose in thescheme of things. One can dine openly with them at the most exclusiverestaurant, and not mind meeting one's relations. They are rather moreexpensive than the others--pearl necklaces--sables--essence for theirmotor cars--these are their prices. --They are so decorative, too, andbefore the war were such excellent tango partners. These three are allof the best families, and their relations stick to them in thebackground, so they are not altogether _déclassé_. Maurice says they arethe most agreeable women in Paris, and get the last news out of theGenerals. They are seen everywhere, and Coralie, the married one, wearsa Red Cross uniform sometimes at tea--if she happens to remember to gointo a hospital for ten minutes to hold some poor fellow's hand. 

Yes, I suppose they have their uses--there are a horde of them, anyway. 

To-morrow Maurice is bringing another specimen to divert me--Americanthis time--over here for "war work. " Maurice says one of the cleverestadventuresses he has ever met; and I am still irresistible, he assuresme, so I must be careful--(for am I not disgustingly rich!)

Burton is sixty years old--He is my earliest recollection. Burton knowsthe world. 

 * * * * *

_Friday_--The American adventuress delighted me. She was so shrewd. Hereyes are cunning and evil--her flesh is round and firm, she is notextremely painted, and her dresses are quite six inches below her knees. 

She has two English peers in tow, and any casual Americans of note whomshe can secure who will give her facilities in life. She, also, isposing for a 'lady' and 'a virtuous woman, ' and an ardent war worker. 

All these parasites are the product of the war, though probably theyalways existed, but the war has been their glorious chance. There is anew verb in America, Maurice says--"To war work"--It means to get toParis, and have a splendid time. 

Their _toupé_ is surprising! To hear this one talk one would think sheruled all the politics of the allies, and directed each General. 

 * * * * *

Are men fools?--Yes, imbeciles--they cannot see the wiles of woman. Perhaps I could not when I was a human male whom they could love!

Love?--did I say love?

Is there such a thing?--or is it only a sex excitement for themoment!--That at all events is the sum of what these creatures know. 

Do they ever think?--I mean beyond planning some fresh adventure forthemselves, or how to secure some fresh benefit. 

I cannot now understand how a man ever marries one of them, gives hisname and his honour into such precarious keeping. Once I suppose Ishould have been as easy a prey as the rest. But not _now_--I have toomuch time to think, I fear. I seem to find some ulterior motive inwhatever people say or do. 

To-day another American lunched with me, a bright girl, an heiress of thebreezy, jolly kind, a good sort before the war, whom I danced withoften. She told me quite naturally that she had a German prisoner'sthigh bone being polished into an umbrella handle--She had assisted atthe amputation--and the man had afterwards died--"A really cutesouvenir, " she assured me it was going to be!

Are we all mad--?

No wonder the finest and best "go West. "--Will they come again, souls ofa new race, when all these putrid beings have become extinguished bytime? I hope so to God. .. . 

These French women enjoy their crepe veils--and their high-heeled shoes, and their short black skirts, even a cousin is near enough for thetrappings of woe. --Can any of us feel woe now?--I think not. .. . 

Maurice has his uses--Were I a man once more I should despiseMaurice--He is so good a creature, such a devoted hanger on of the veryrich--and faithful too. Does he not pander to my every fancy, andprocure me whatever I momentarily desire?

How much better if I had been killed outright! I loathe myself and allthe world. 

 * * * * *

Once--before the war--the doing up of this flat caused me raptures. Toget it quite English--in Paris! Every _antiquaire_ in London hadexploited me to his heart's content. I paid for it through the nose, buteach bit is a gem. I am not quite sure now what I meant to do with itwhen finished, occupy it when I did come to Paris--lend it tofriends?--I don't remember--Now it seems a sepulchre where I can retiremy maimed body to and wait for the end. 

 * * * * *

Nina once proposed to stay with me here, no one should know, Nina?--would she come now?--How dare they make this noise at thedoor--what is it?--Nina!

 * * * * *

_Sunday_--it was actually Nina herself--"Poor darling Nicholas, " shesaid. "The kindest fate sent me across--I 'wangled' a passport--reallyserious war work, and here I am for a fortnight, even in war time one_must_ get a few clothes--"

I could see I was a great shock to her, my attraction for her hadgone--I was just "poor darling Nicholas, " and she began to bemotherly--Nina motherly!--She would have been furious at the very ideaonce. Nina is thirty-nine years old, her boy has just gone into theflying corps, she is so glad the war will soon be over. 

She loves her boy. 

She gave me news of the world, our old world of idle uselessness, whichis now one of solid work. 

"Why have you completely cut yourself off from everything and everybody, ever since you first went out to fight?--Very silly of you. "

"When I was a _man_ and could fight, I liked fighting, and never wantedto see any of you again. You all seemed rotters to me, so I spent myleaves in the country or here. Now you seem glorious beings, and I therotter. I am no use at all--"

Nina came close to me and touched my hand--

"Poor darling Nicholas, " she said again. 

Something hurt awfully, as I realized that to touch me now caused her nothrill. No woman will ever thrill again when I am near. 

Nina does know all about clothes! She is the best-dressed Englishwoman Ihave ever seen. She has worked awfully well for the war, too, I hear, she deserves her fortnight in Paris. 

"What are you going to do, Nina?" I asked her. 

She was going out to theatres every night, and going to dine with lotsof delicious 'red tabs' whose work was over here, whom she had not seenfor a long time. 

"I'm just going to frivol, Nicholas, I am tired of work. "

Nothing could exceed her kindness--a mother's kindness. 

I tried to take an interest in everything she said, only it seemed suchaeons away. As though I were talking in a dream. 

She would go plodding on at her war job when she got back again, ofcourse, but she, like everyone else, is war weary. 

"And when peace comes--it will soon come now probably--what then?"

"I believe I shall marry again. "

I jumped--I had never contemplated the possibility of Nina marrying, shehas always been a widowed institution, with her nice little house inQueen Street, and that wonderful cook. 

"What on earth for?"

"I want the companionship and devotion of one man. "

"Anyone in view?"

"Yes--one or two--they say there is a shortage of men, I have neverknown so many men in my life. "

Then presently, when she had finished her tea, she said--

"You are absolutely out of gear, Nicholas--Your voice is rasping, yourremarks are bitter, and you must be awfully unhappy, poor boy. "

I told her that I was--there was no use in lying. 

"Everything is finished, " I said, and she bent down and kissed me as shesaid good-bye--a mother's kiss. 

 * * * * *

And now I am alone, and what shall I do all the evening? or all theother evenings--? I will send for Suzette to dine. 

 * * * * *

_Night_--Suzette--was amusing--. I told her at once I did not requireher to be affectionate. 

"You can have an evening's rest from blandishments, Suzette. "

"_Merci!_"--and then she stretched herself, kicked up her little feet, in their short-vamped, podgy little shoes, with four-inch heels, and lita cigarette. 

"Life is hard, _Mon ami_"--she told me--"And now that the English arehere, it is difficult to keep from falling in love. "

For a minute I thought she was going to insinuate that I had aroused herreflection--I warmed--but no--She had taken me seriously when I told herI required no blandishments. 

That ugly little twinge came to me again. 

"You like the English?"

"Yes. "

"Why?"

"They are very _bons garçons_, they are clean, and they are fine men, they have sentiment, too--Yes, it is difficult not to feel, " she sighed. 

"What do you do when you fall in love then, Suzette?"

"_Mon ami_, I immediately go for a fortnight to the sea--one is lost ifone falls in love _dans le metier_--The man tramples then--tramples andslips off--For everything good one must never feel. "

"But you have a kind heart Suzette--you feel for me?"

"_Hein?_"--and she showed all her little white pointedteeth--"Thou?--Thou art very rich, _mon chou_. Women will always feelfor thee!"

It went in like a knife it was so true--. 

"I was a very fine Englishman once, " I said. 

"It is possible, thou art still, sitting, and showing the rightprofile--and full of _chic_--and then rich, rich!"

"You could not forget that I am rich, Suzette?"

"If I did I might love you--_Jamais!_"

"And does the sea help to prevent an attack?"--

"Absence--and I go to a poor place I knew when I was young, and I washand cook, and make myself remember what _la vie dure_ was--and would beagain if one loved--Bah! that does it. I come back cured--and ready onlyto please such as thou, Nicholas!--rich, rich!"

 * * * * *

And she laughed again her rippling gay laugh--

We had a pleasant evening, she told me the history of her life--or someof it--They were ever the same from Lucien's Myrtale. 

 * * * * *

When all of me is aching--Shall I too, find solace if I go to the sea?

Who knows?

II

I have been through torture this week--The new man wrenches my shouldereach day, it will become straight eventually, he says. They have triedto fit the false leg also, so those two things are going on, but thesocket is not yet well enough for anything to be done to my left eye--sothat has defeated them. It will be months before any real improvementtakes place. 

There are hundreds of others who are more maimed than I--in greaterpain--more disgusting--does it give them any comfort to tell the truthto a journal?--or are they strong enough to keep it all locked up intheir hearts?--I used to care to read, all books bore me now--I cannottake interest in any single thing, and above all, I loathe myself--Mysoul is angry. 

Nina came again, to luncheon this time. It was pouring with rain, anodious day. She told me of her love affairs--as a sister might--Nina asister!

She can't make up her mind whether to take Jim Bruce or RochesterMoreland, they are both Brigadiers now, Jim is a year younger than sheis. 

"Rochester is really more my mate, Nicholas, " she said, "but then thereare moments when I am with him when I am not sure if he would not boreme eventually, and he has too much character for me to suppress--Jimfascinates me, but I only hold him because he is not sure of me--If Imarry him he will be, and then I shall have to watch my looks, andremember to play the game all the time, and it won't be restful--aboveall, I want rest and security. "

"You are not really in love with either, Nina?"

"Love?" and she smoothed out the fringe on her silk jersey with herwar-hardened hand--the hand I once loved to kiss--every blue vein onit!--"I often, wonder what really is love, Nicholas--I thought I lovedyou before the war--but, of course, I could not have--because I don'tfeel anything now--and if I had really loved you, I suppose it would nothave made any difference. "

Then she realized what she had said and got up and came closer to me. 

"That was cruel of me, I did not mean to be--I love you awfully as asister--always. "

"Sister Nina!--well, let us get back to love--perhaps the war has killedit--or it has developed everything, perhaps it now permits a sensitive, delicious woman like you to love two men. "

"You see, we have become so complicated"--she puffed smoke rings atme--"One man does not seem to fulfill the needs of every mood--Rochesterwould not understand some things that Jim would, and _vice versa_--I donot feel any glamour about either, but it is rest and certainty, as Itold you, Nicholas, I am so tired of working and going home to QueenStreet alone. "

"Shall you toss up?"

"No--Rochester is coming up from the front to-morrow just for the night, I am going to dine with him at Larue's--alone, I shall sample him allthe time--I sampled Jim when he was last in London a fortnight ago--"

"You will tell me about it when you have decided, won't you, Nina. Yousee I have become a brother, and am interested in the psychologicalaspects of things. "

"Of course I will"--then she went on meditatively, her rather plaintivevoice low. 

"I think all our true feeling is used up, Nicholas--our souls--if wehave souls--are blunted by the war agony. Only our senses still feel. When Jim looks at me with his attractive blue eyes, and I see the D. S. O. And the M. C. , and his white nice teeth--and how his hair is brushed, andhow well his uniform fits, I have a jolly all-overish sensation--and Idon't much listen to what he is saying--he says lots of love--and Ithink I would really like him all the time. Then, when he has gone Ithink of other things, and I feel he would not understand a word aboutthem, and because he isn't there I don't feel the delicious all-overishsensation, so I rather decide to marry Rochester--there would be suchrisk--because when you are married to a man, it is possible to get muchfonder of him. Jim is a year younger than I am--It would be a strain, perhaps in a year or two--especially if I got fond. "

"You had better take the richer, " I told her--"Money stands by one, itis an attraction which even the effects of war never varies or lessens, "and I could hear that there was bitterness in my voice. 

"You are quite right, " Nina said, taking no notice of it--"but I don'twant money--I have enough for every possible need, and my boy has hisown. I want something kind and affectionate to live with. "

"You want a master--and a slave. "

"Yes. "

"Nina, when you loved me--what did you want?"

"Just you, Nicholas--just you. "

"Well, I am here now, but an eye and a leg gone, and a crooked shoulder, changes me;--so it is true love--even the emotion of the soul, dependsupon material things--"

Nina thought for a while. 

"Perhaps not the emotion of the soul--if we have souls?--but what weknow of love now certainly does. I suppose there are people who can lovewith the soul, I am not one of them. "

"Well, you are honest, Nina. "

She had her coffee and liqueur, she was graceful and composed andrefined, either Jim or Rochester will have a very nice wife. 

Burton coughed when she had left. 

"Out with it, Burton!"

"Mrs. Ardilawn is a kind lady, Sir Nicholas. "

"Charming. "

"I believe you'd be better with some lady to look after you, Sir--. "

"To hell with you. Telephone for Mr. Maurice--I don't want any woman--wecan play piquet. "

This is how my day ended--. 

Maurice and piquet--then the widow and the divorcée for dinner--and nowalone again! The sickening rot of it all. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday_--Nina came for tea--she feels that I am a great comfort to herin this moment of her life, so full of indecision--It seems that Jim hasturned up too, at the Ritz, where Rochester still is, and that hisphysical charm has upset all her calculations again. 

"I am really very worried Nicholas, " she said, "and you, who are a dearfamily friend"--I am a family friend now!--"ought to be able to helpme. "

"What the devil do you want me to do, Nina?--outset them both, and askyou to marry me?"

"My dearest Nicholas!" it seemed to her that I had suggested that sheshould marry father Xmas! "How funny you are!"

Once it was the height of her desire--Nina is eight years older than Iam--I can see now her burning eyes one night on the river in the June of1914, when she insinuated, not all playfully, that it would be good towed. 

"I think you had better take Jim my dear, after all. You are evidentlybecoming in love with him and you have proved to me that the physicalcharm matters most, --or if you are afraid of that, you had better do asanother little friend of mine does when she is attracted--she takes afortnight at the sea!"

"The sea would be awful in this weather! I should send for both indesperation!" and she laughed and began to take an interest in thefurnishings of my flat. She looked over it, and Burton pointed out allits merits to her (My crutch hurts my shoulder so much to-day I did notwant to move out of my chair). I could hear Burton's remarks, but theyfell upon unheeding ears--Nina is not cut out for a nurse, my poorBurton, if you only knew--!

When she returned to my sitting room tea was in, and she poured it outfor me, and then she remarked. 

"We have grown so awfully selfish, haven't we, Nicholas, but we aren'tsuch hypocrites as we were before the war. People still have lovers, butthey don't turn up their eyes so much at other people having them, asthey used. There is more tolerance--the only thing you cannot do is toact publicly so that your men friends cannot defend you--'You must notthrow your bonnet over the windmills'--otherwise you can do as youplease--. "

"You had not thought of taking either Jim or Rochester for a lover tomake certain which you prefer?"

Nina looked unspeakably shocked--. 

"What a dreadful idea Nicholas!--I am thinking of both _seriously_, notonly to pass the time of day remember. "

"That is all lovers are for, then Nina?--I used to think--. "

"Never mind what you thought, there is no reason to insult me. "

"Nothing was farther from my desire. "

Nina's face cleared, as it had darkened ominously. 

"What will you do if, having married Rochester, you find yourselfbored--Will you send for Jim again?"

"Certainly not, that would be disaster. I shan't plunge until I feelpretty certain I am going to find the water just deep enough, and nottoo deep--and if I do make a mistake, well I shall have to stick to it. "

"By Jove what a philosopher, " and I laughed--She poured out a second cupof tea, and then she looked steadily at me, as though studying a newphase of me. 

"You are not a bit worse off than Tom Green, Nicholas, and he has notgot your money, and Tom is as jolly as anything, and everybody loveshim, though he is a hopeless cripple, and can't even look decent, as youwill be able to in a year or two. There is no use in having thissentiment about war heroes that would make one put up with theirtempers, and their cynicism! Everybody is in the same boat, women andmen, we chance being maimed by bombs, and we are losing our looks withrough work--for goodness sake stop being so soured--. "

I laughed outright--it was all so true. 

 * * * * *

_Friday_--Maurice brings people to play bridge every afternoon now. Ninahas gone back to England--having decided to take Jim!

It came about in this way--She flew in to tell me the last eveningbefore she left for Havre. She was breathless running up the stairs, assomething had gone wrong with the lift. 

"Jim and I are engaged!"

"A thousand congratulations. "

"Rochester had a dinner for me on Wednesday night. All the jolliestpeople in Paris--some of those dear French who have been so nice to usall along, and some of the War Council and the Ryvens, and so on--and, do you know, Nicholas--I _heard_ Rochester telling Madame de Clerté thesame story about his _bon mot_ when a shell broke at Avicourt--as I hadalready heard him tell Admiral Short, and Daisy Ryven!--that decidedme--. There was an element of self-glorification in that modeststory--and a man who would tell it _three times_, is not for me! In tenyears I should grow into being the listener victim--I could not face it!So I said good-bye to him in the corridor, before up to my room--and Itelephoned to Jim, who was in his room on the Cambon side, and he cameround in the morning!"

"Was Rochester upset?"

"Rather! but a man of his age--he is forty-two, who can tell aself-story three times is going to get cured soon, so I did not worry. "

"And what did Jim say?"

"He was enchanted, he said he knew it would end like that--give a man offorty-two rope enough and he'll be certain to hang himself, he said, and, Oh! Nicholas--Jim is a darling, he is getting quite masterful--Iadore him!"

"Senses winning, Nina! Women only like physical masters. "

She grew radiant. Never has she seemed so desirable. "I don't care a figNicholas! If it is senses, well, then, I know it is the best thing inthe World, and a woman of my age can't have everything. I adore Jim! Weare going to be married the first moment he can get leave again--and Ishall 'wangle' him into being a 'red tab'--he has fought enough. "

"And if meanwhile he should get maimed like me--what then, Nina?"

She actually paled. 

"Don't be so horrid Nicholas--Jim--Oh! I can't bear it!" and being astrict Protestant, she crossed herself--to avert bad luck!

"We won't think of anything but joy and happiness, Nina, but it isquite plain to me you had better have a fortnight at the sea!"

She had forgotten the allusion, and turned puzzled brown eyes upon me. 

"You know--to balance yourself when you feel you are falling in love"--Ireminded her. 

"Oh! It is all stuff and nonsense! I know now I adore Jim--good-byeNicholas"--and she hugged me--as a sister--a mother--and a familyfriend--and was off down the stairs again. 

Burton had brought me in a mild gin and seltzer, and it was on the tray, near, so I drank it, and said to myself, "Here is to the Senses--jollygood things"--and then I telephoned to Suzette to come and dine. 

 * * * * *

There is a mole on the left cheek of Suzette, high up near her eye, there are three black hairs in it--I had never seen them until thismorning--_c'est fini_--_je ne puis plus_!

 * * * * *

Of course we have all got moles with three black hairs in them--and theawful moment is when suddenly they are seen--That is the tragedy oflife--disillusion. 

I cannot help being horribly introspective, Maurice would agree towhatever I said, so there is no use in talking to him--I rush to thisjournal, it cannot look at me with fond watery eyes of reproach anddisapproval--as Burton would if I let myself go to him. 

_May 16th_--The times have been too anxious to write, it is over twomonths since I opened this book. But it cannot be, it cannot be that weshall be beaten--Oh! God--why am I not a man again to fight! The raidsare continuous--All the fluffies and nearly everyone left Paris in theticklish March and April times, but now their fears are lulled a littleand many have returned, and they rush to cinemas and theatres, to killtime, and jump into the rare taxis to go and see the places where theraid bombs burst, or Bertha shells, and watch the houses burning and thecrushed bodies of the victims being dragged out. They sicken me, thisrotten crew--But this is not all France--great, dear, brave France--Itis only one section of useless society. To-day the Duchesse deCourville-Hautevine came to call upon me--mounted all the stairs withouteven a wheeze--(the lift gave out again this morning!)--What apersonality!--How I respect her! She has worked magnificently since thewar began, her hospital is a wonder, her only son was killed fightinggloriously at Verdun. 

"You look as melancholy as a sick cat, " she told me. 

She likes to speak her English--"Of what good _Jeune homme_! We are notdone yet--I have cut some of my relatives who ran away fromParis--Imbeciles! Bertha is our diversion now, and the raids atnight--jolly loud things!"--and she chuckled, detaching her scissorswhich had got caught in the purple woolen jersey she wore over her RedCross uniform. She is quite indifferent to coquetry, this grande dame ofthe _ancien regime_!

"My _blessés_ rejoice in them--_Que voulez vous?_--War is war--and thereis no use in looking blue--Cheer up, young man!"

Then we talked of other things. She is witty and downright, and herevery thought and action is kindly. I love la Duchesse--My mother washer dearest friend. 

When she had stayed twenty minutes--she came over close to my chair. 

"I knew you would be bitter at not being in the fight, my son, " shesaid, patting me with her once beautiful hand, now red and hardened withwork, "So I snatched the moments to come to see you. On your one legyou'll defend if the moment should come, --but it won't! And you--youwounded ones, spared--can keep the courage up. _Tiens!_ you can at leastpray, you have the time--I have not--_Mais le Bon Dieu_ understands--. "

And with that she left me, stopping to arrange her tightly curled fringe(she sticks to all old styles) at the lac mirror by the door. I feltbetter after she had gone--yes, it is that--God--why can't I fight!

III

Is some nerve being touched by the new treatment? I seem alternately tobe numb and perfectly indifferent to how the war is going, and thenmadly interested. But I am too sensitive to leave my flat for anymeals--I drive whenever one of the "fluffies" (this is what Mauricecalls the widow, the divorcée and other rejoicers of men's war hearts)can take me in her motor--No one else has a motor--There is no petrolfor ordinary people. 

"It reminds one of Louis XV's supposed reply to his daughters"--I saidto Maurice yesterday. "When they asked him to make them a good road tothe Château of their dear _Gouvernante_, the Duchesse de la Bove--Heassured them he could not, his mistresses cost him too much! So theypaid for it themselves, hence the '_Chemin des Dames_. '"

"What reminds you of what--?" Maurice asked, looking horribly puzzled. 

"The fluffies being able to get the petrol--. "

"But I don't see, the connection?"

"It was involved--the mistresses got the money which should have madethe road in those days, and now--. "

Maurice was annoyed with himself; he could not yet see, and no wonder, for it _was_ involved!--but I am angry that the widow and the divorcéeboth have motors and I none!

"Poor Odette--she hates taxis! Why should she not have a motor?--You are_grinchant_, _mon cher_!--since she takes you out, too!"

"Believe me, Maurice, I am grateful, I shall repay all theirkindnesses--they have all indicated how I can best do so--but I like tokeep them waiting, it makes them more keen. "

Maurice laughed again nervously. 

"It is divine to be so rich, Nicholas"!

 * * * * *

All sorts of people come to talk to me and have tea (I have a smallhoard of sugar sent from a friend in Spain). Amongst them an ancientguardsman in some inspection berth here--He, like Burton, knows theworld. 

He tests women by whether or no they take presents from him, he tellsme. They profess intense love which he returns, and then comes themoment (he, like me, is disgustingly rich). He offers them a present, some accept at once, those he no longer considers; others hesitate, andsay it is too much, they only want his affection--He presses them, theyyield--they too, are wiped off the list--and now he has no one to carefor, since he has not been able to find one who refuses his gifts. Itwould be certainly my case also--were I to try. 

"Women"--he said to me last night--"are the only pleasure in life--menand hunting bring content and happiness, work brings satisfaction, butwomen and their ways are the only _pleasure_. "

"Even when you know it is all for some personal gain?"

"Even so, once you have realized that, it does not matter, you take thejoy from another point of view, you have to eliminate vanity out of theaffair, your personal vanity is hurt, my dear boy, when you feel it isyour possessions, not yourself, they crave, but if you analyse that, itdoes not take away from the pleasure their beauty gives you--thetangible things are there just as if they loved you--I am now altogetherindifferent as to their feelings for me, as long as their table mannersare good, and they make a semblance of adoring me. If one had to dependupon their real disinterested love for their kindness to one, then itwould be a different matter, and very distressing, but since they canalways be caught by a bauble--you and I are fortunately placed, Nicholas. "

We laughed our vile laughs together. --It is true--I hate to hear my ownlaugh. I agree with Chesterfield, who said that no gentleman should makethat noise!

 * * * * *

As I said before, all sorts of people come to see me, but I seem to bestripping them of externals all the time. What is the good in them? Whatis the truth in them? Strip me--if I were not rich what would anyonebother with me for? Is anyone worth while underneath?

One or other of the fluffies come almost daily to play bridge with me, and any fellow who is on leave, and the neutrals who have no anxieties, what a crew! It amuses me to "strip" them. The married one, Coralie, hasabsolutely nothing to charm with if one removes the ambience of success, the entourage of beautiful things, the manicurist and the complexionspecialist, the Reboux hats, and the Chanel clothes. She would be aplain little creature, with not too fine ankles, --but thatself-confidence which material possessions bring, casts a spell overpeople. --Coralie _is_ attractive. Odette, the widow, is beautiful. Shehas the brain of a turkey, but she, too, is exquisitely dressed andsurrounded with everything to enhance her loveliness, and the serenityof success has given her magnetism. She announces platitudes asdiscoveries, she sparkles, and is so ravishing that one finds her trashwit. She thinks she is witty, and you begin to believe it!

Odette can be best stripped, people could like her just for her looks. Alice, the divorcée, appeals to one. --She is gentle and feminine andclinging--she is the cruelest and most merciless of the three, Mauricetells me, and the most difficult to analyse: But most of one's friendswould find it hard to stand the test of denuding them of their worldlypossessions and outside allurements, it is not only the fluffies, whowould come out of not much value!

Oh! the long, long days--and the ugly nights!

One does not sleep very well now, the noise of "Bertha" from six A. M. And the raids at night!--but I believe I grow to like the raids--andlast night we had a marvelous experience. I had been persuaded byMaurice to have quite a large dinner party. Madame de Clerté, who isreally an amusing personality, courageous and agreeable, and DaisyRyven, and the fluffies, and four or five men. We were sitting smokingafterwards, listening to de Volé playing, he is a great musician. People's fears are lulled, they have returned to Paris. Numbers of menare being killed, --"The English in heaps--but what will you!" thefluffies said, "they had no business to make that break with the FifthArmy! Oh! No! and, after all, the country is too dull--and we have allour hidden store of petrol. If we must fly at the last moment, why onearth not go to the theatre and try to pass the time!"

de Volé was playing "Madame Butterfly"--when the sirens went for araid--and almost immediately the guns began--and bombs crashed. One veryseldom sees any fear on people's faces now, they are accustomed to thenoise. Without asking any of us, de Volé commenced Chopin's FuneralMarch. It was a very wonderful moment, the explosions and the gunsmingling with the splendid chords. We sat breathless--a spell seemed tobe upon us all--We listened feverishly. De Volé's face was transfigured. What did he see in the dim light?--He played and played. And the wholetragedy of war--and the futility of earthly interests--the glory, thesplendour and the agony seemed to be brought home to us. From this, asthe noise without became less loud, he glided into Schubert, and so atlast ceased when the "all clear" commenced to rend the air. No one hadspoken a word, and then Daisy Ryven laughed--a queer little awed laugh. She was the only Englishwoman there. 

"We are keyed up, " she said. 

And when they had all gone I opened my window wide and breathed in theblack dark night. Oh! God--what a rotter I am. 

 * * * * *

_Friday_--Maurice has a new suggestion--he says I should write abook--he _knows_ I am becoming insupportable, and he thinks if heflatters me enough I'll swallow the bait, and so be kept quiet and nottry him so much. --A novel?--A study of the causes of altruism? What?--Ifeel--yes, I feel a spark of interest. If it could take me out ofmyself--I shall consult the Duchesse--I will tell Burton to telephoneand find out if I can see her this afternoon. She sometimes takes halfan hour off between four and five to attend to her family. 

Yes--Burton says she will see me and will send me one of her Red Crosscars to fetch me, then I can keep my leg up. 

I rather incline to a treatise upon altruism and the philosophicalsubjects. I fear if I wrote a novel it would be saturated by my uglyspirit, and I should hate people to read it. I must get that part of meoff in my journal, but a book about--Altruism?

I must have a stenographer of course, a short-hand typist, if I do beginthis thing. There are some English ones here no doubt. I do not wish towrite in French--Maurice must find me a suitable one. --I won't haveanything young and attractive. In my idiotic state she might get thebetter of me! The idea of some steady employment quite bucks me up. 

 * * * * *

I felt rather jarred when I arrived at the Hotel Courville--the pavingacross the river is bad; but I found my way to the Duchesse's ownsitting room on the first floor--the only room apparently left not award--and somehow the smell of carbolic had not penetrated here. It wastoo hot, and only a little window was open. 

How wonderfully beautiful these eighteenth century rooms are! What graceand charm in the panelling--what dignity in the proportions! This one, like all rooms of women of the Duchesse's age, is too full--crammedalmost, with gems of art, and then among them, here and there, ashocking black satin stuffed and buttoned armchair, with a bit ofwoolwork down its centre, and some fringe! And her writing table!--thefamous one given by Louis XV to the ancestress, who refused hisfavours--A mass of letters and papers, and reports, a bottle of creosoteand a feather! A servant in black, verging upon ninety, brought in thetea, and said Madame la Duchesse would be there immediately--and shecame. 

Her twinkling eyes kindly as ever "Good day Nicholas, " she said andkissed me on both cheeks, "Thou art thy mother's child--_Va!_--And Ithank thee for the fifty thousand francs for my _blessés_--I say nomore--_Va!_--. "

Her scissors got caught in her pocket, not the purple jersey this time, and she played with them for a minute. 

"Thou art come for something--out with it!"

"Shall I write a book?, that's it. Maurice thinks it might divertme--What do you think?"

"One must consider, " and she began pouring out the tea, "paper isscarce--I doubt, my son, if what you would inscribe upon it wouldjustify the waste--but still--as a _soulagement_--an asperine so tospeak--perhaps--yes. On what subject?"

"That is what I want your advice about, a novel?--or a study uponAltruism, or--or--something like that?"

She chuckled and handed me my tea, thin tea and a tiny slice of blackbread, and a scrape of butter. There is no cheating of the regulationshere, but the Sevres cup gave me satisfaction. 

"You have brought me your bread coupon, I hope?" she interruptedwith, --"if you eat without it one of my household has less!"

I produced it. 

"Two days old will do here, " then she became all interest in my projectagain and chuckled anew. 

"Not a novel my son, at your age and with your temperament, it wouldarouse emotions in you if you created them in your characters, you arebetter without them. --No!--Something serious; Altruism as well asanother, by all means!"

"I expected you to say that, you are always so practical and kind, thenwe will choose a research subject to keep me busy. "

"Why not the history of Blankshire, your old county where the Thormondeshave sat since the conquest--_hein_?"

This delighted me, but I saw the impossibility. "I cannot get at thenecessary reference books, and it is impossible to receive anything fromEngland. "

She realized this before I spoke. 

"No--philosophy it must be--or your pet hobby, the furniture of yourWilliam and Mary!"

This seemed the best of all, and I decided in a moment. This shall be mysubject. I really know something of William and Mary furniture! So wesettled it. Then she became reflective. 

"The news is _très grave_ to-day, my son, " she whispered softly, "thefearful ones predict that the Boche will be within range in a fewdays. --Why not leave Paris?"

"Are you going, Duchesse?"

"I, --_Mon Dieu!_--Of course not!--I must stay to get my _Blessés_out--if the worst should come--but I never believe it. --Let the cowardsflee--. Some of my relatives have gone again. Those I speak to will havebecome a minority when peace arrives, it would seem!"--then she frownedangrily. "Many are so splendid--devoted, untiring, but there aresome--!--_Mon Dieu!_ the girls play tennis at the _tix auxpigeons_!--and the Germans are sixty-five kilometers from Paris!"

I did not speak, and then, as though I had said something disparagingand she must defend them--"But you must not judge them hardly--No!--itis not possible with our National temperament that young girls of theworld can nurse men--No--No--and our ministry of War won't employwomen--what can they do--ask yourself, what can they do?--but wait andpray! Other nations must not judge us--our men know what they want ofus--yes, yes--"

"Of course they do. "

"My niece Madelaine--a lighthead--dragged me to the Ritz to lunch lastweek, before the wild rush cleared them off again--_Mon Dieu!_ what asight there in that restaurant!--Olivier and the waiters are the onlythings of dignity left! The women dressed to the eyes as Red Crossnurses. Some Americans, and, yes, French--nursing the well Englishofficers I must believe--no nearer wounded than that!--floating veils, painted lips--high heels--Heavens! it filled me with rage--I who knowthe devoted and good of both nations who are not seen, and youEnglish--. But there it is easy for you with your temperament to begood and really work--France is full of sensible kind Americans andEnglish--but those in Paris--they make me sick! Quarter of an hour twicea day--to have the right to a passport to come--and to wear auniform--Pah! Sick, sick!--"

I thought of the fluffies!--they too played at something the first yearof the war, but now have given up even the pretence of that. 

The Duchesse was still angry. 

"My nephew Charles, le Prince de Vimont, eats chicken and cutlets on themeatless days, he told me with pride, his _maître d'hôtel_--he of theone eye--like thou, Nicholas, is able to procure plenty on the daybefore from friends in the trade, and with ice--_Mon Dieu!_--and I paytwenty-eight francs apiece for the best poulets for my _blessés_ forextra rations!--and ice!--impossible to procure--. Oh! I would punishthem all, choke them with their own meat--it is they who should be "foodfor the guns" as you English say, --they, these few disgrace our braveFrance, and make the other nations laugh at us. "

I tried to assure her that no one laughed, and that we all understoodand worshipped the spirit of France, that it was only the few, and thatwe were not deceived, but I could not calm her. 

"It makes me weep" at last she said and I could not comfort her. 

"Heloise de Tavantaine--my Cousin's Jew daughter-in-law--paid fourthousand francs for a new evening dress, which did not cover a tenth ofher fat body--Four thousand francs would have given my_blessés_--Ah!--well--I rage, I rage. "

Then she checked herself--. 

"But why do I say this to thee Nicholas?--because I am sore--it is everthus--we are all human, and must cry to someone. "

So after all there is some meaning in my journal. 

"_One must cry to someone!_"

 * * * * *

Burton is delighted that I shall write a book!--He wrote at once to myaunt Emmeline to tell her that I was better. I have her letter withcongratulations in it to-day. Burton does the correspondence with my fewrelations, all war working hard in England. I am becoming quite excited, I long to begin, but there is no use until Maurice finds me astenographer. He has heard of two. One a Miss Jenkins, agedforty--sounds good, but she can only give three hours a day--and I musthave one at my beck and call--There is a second one, a Miss Sharp--butshe is only twenty-three--plain though, Maurice says, and wears hornspectacles--that should not attract me! She makes bandages all theevening, but is obliged to work for her living so could come for theday. She is not out of a job, because she is very expert, but she doesnot like her present one. I would have to pay her very highly Mauricesays--I don't mind that, I want the best. --I had better see Miss Sharp, and judge if I can stand her. She may have a personality I could notwork with. Maurice must bring her to-morrow. 

The news to-night is worse. --The banks have sent away all theirsecurities. --But I shall not leave--one might as well die in abombardment as any other way. The English Consul has to know all thenames of the English residents in case of evacuation. But I will not go. 

Bertha is making a most fiendish noise, there were two raids lastnight, --and she began at six this morning--one gets little sleep. I havea one horse Victoria now, driven by Methusala; I picked Maurice up atthe Ritz this evening at nine o'clock--there was not a human soul to beseen in the _Rue de la Paix_, or the _Place Vendôme_, or the _RueCastiglione_--a city of the dead--And the early June sky full of peaceand soft light. 

What does it all mean?

IV

Maurice brought Miss Sharp to-day to interview me. I do not like hermuch, but the exhibition she gave me of her speed and accuracy inshort-hand satisfied me and made me see that I should be a fool to lookfurther. So I have engaged her. She is a small creature, palish withrather good bright brown hair--She wears horn rimmed spectacles withyellow glasses in them so I can't see her eyes at all. I judge people bytheir eyes. Her hands look as if she had done rather a lot of hardwork--they are so very thin. Her clothes are neat but shabby--that isnot the last look like French women have--but as if they had been turnedto "make do"--I suppose she is very poor. Her manner is icily quiet. Sheonly speaks when she is spoken to. She is quite uninteresting. 

It is better for me to have a nonentity--then I can talk aloud mythoughts without restriction. I am to give her double what she isgetting now--2000 francs a month--war price. 

Some colour came into her cheeks when I offered that and she hesitated, I said "Don't you think it is enough?"

She answered so queerly. 

"I think it is too much, and I was wondering if I would be able toaccept it. I want to. "

"Then do. "

"Very well--I will of course do my very best to earn it"--and with thatshe bowed and left me. 

Anyhow she won't make a noise. 

Nina writes since she has married Jim--which she did just before theoffensive in March--she has been too happy--or too anxious, to rememberher friends--even dear old ones--but now fortunately Jim is wounded inthe ankle bone which will keep him at home for two months so she has alittle leisure. 

"You can't think, Nicholas, what a different aspect the whole war tookon when I knew Jim was in the front line--I adore him--and up to now Ihave managed to keep him adoring me--but I can see I'll have to becareful if he is going to be with me long at a time. "

So it would seem that Nina had not obtained the rest and security shehoped for. 

I hope my writing a book will rest me. I have arranged all my firstchapter in my head--and to-morrow I begin. 

_June 26th_--Miss Sharp came punctually at ten--she had a black andwhite cotton frock on--There is nothing of her--she is so slight--(amass of bones probably in evening dress--but thank goodness I shall notsee her in evening dress, ) she goes at six--She is to have her lunchhere--Burton has arranged it. An hour off for lunch which she can haveon a tray in the small salon, which I have had arranged for her workroom. --Of course it won't take her an hour to eat--but Burton says shemust have that time, it is always done. It is a great nuisance forperhaps when 12:30 comes I shall just be in the middle of an inspirationand I suppose off she'll fly like the housemaids used when the servants'hall bell went at home. But I can't say anything. 

I was full of ideas and the beginning of my first chapter spouted out, and when Miss Sharp had read it over to me I found she had not made anymistake. That is a mercy. 

She went away and typed it, and then had her lunch--and I had mine, butMaurice dropped in and mine took longer than hers--it was half past twowhen I rang my hand bell for her (it is a jolly little silver one Ibought once in Cairo) She answered it promptly--the script in her hand. 

"I have had half an hour with nothing to do, " she said--"Can you notgive me some other work which I can turn to, if this should happenagain?"

"You can read a book--there are lots in the book case" I told her--"Or Imight leave you some letters to answer. "

"Thank you, that would be best"--(She is conscientious evidently). 

We began again. 

She sits at a table with her notebook, and while I pause she isabsolutely still--that is good. I feel she won't count more than a tableor chair. I am quite pleased with my work. It is awfully hot to-day andthere is some tension in the air--as though something was going tohappen. The news is the same--perhaps slightly better. --I am going tohave a small dinner to-night. The widow and Maurice and Madame deClerté--just four and we are going to the play. It is such a businessfor me to go I seldom turn out. --Maurice is having a little supper inhis rooms at the Ritz for us. It is my birthday--I am thirty-one yearsold. 

_Friday_--What an evening that 26th of June! The theatre was hot and thecramped position worried me so--and the lights made my eye ache--Madamede Clerté and I left before the end and ambled back to the Ritz in myone horse Victoria and went and sat in Maurice's room. We talked of thesituation, and the effect of the Americans coming in, bucking everyoneup--we were rather cheerful. Then the sirens began--and the gunsfollowed just as Maurice and Odette got back--They seemed unusuallyloud--and we could hear the bits of shrapnel falling on the terracebeneath us, Odette was frightened and suggested going into thecellar--but as Maurice's rooms are only on the second floor, we did notwant to take the trouble. 

Fear has a peculiar effect upon some people--Odette's complexion turnedgrey and she could hardly keep her voice steady. I wondered how soon shewould let restraint slip from her and fly out of the room to the cellar. Madame de Clerté was quite unmoved. 

Then the dramatic happened--Bang!--the whole house shook and the glassof the window crashed in fragments--and Maurice turned out the onelight--and lifted a corner of the thick curtain to peep out. 

"I believe they got the _Colome Vendôme_" he said awed--and as he spokeanother bomb fell on the Ministaìre beside us--and some of the splintersshot into space and buried themselves in our wall. 

We were all blown across the room--and Madame de Clerté and I fell in aheap together by the door, which gave way outwards--Odette's shrieksmade us think that she was hurt, but she was not, and subsided into agibbering prayer--Maurice helped Madame de Clerté to rise and I turnedon the torch I keep in my pocket, for a minute. I was not conscious ofany pain. We sat in the dark and listened to the commotion beneath usfor some time, and the crashing bombs but never one so nearagain. --Maurice's voice soothing Odette was the only sound in our room. 

Then Madame de Clerté laughed softly and lit a cigarette. 

"A near thing that, Nicholas!" she said--"Let us go down now and see whois killed, and where the explosion actually occurred--The sight is quiteinteresting you know you can believe me. "

"When Bertha hit the ---- two days ago, we rushed for taxis to go down tosee the place--Coralie--has petrol for her motor since two weeks youknow"--and she smiled wickedly--"Monsieur le Ministre must show hisgratitude somehow mustn't he?--Coralie is such a dear--Yes--?--So someof us packed in with her--we were quite a large party--and when we gotthere they were trying to extinguish the fire, and bringing out thebodies--You ought to come with us sometime when we go on thesetrips--anything for a change. "

These women would not have looked on at the sufferings of a mouse beforethe war--. 

The sight in the hall when we did arrive there after the "all clear"went--was remarkable--the great glass doors of the salon blown in andall the windows broken--and the _Place Vendôme_ a mass of debris--not apane whole there I should think. 

But nobody seems very much upset--these things are all in the dayswork--. 

I wonder if in years to come we shall remember the queer recklessnesswhich has developed in almost everyones mentality, or shall we forgetabout the war and go on just as we were before--Who knows?

 * * * * *

I said to Miss Sharp this morning--

"What do you do in the evenings when you leave here"?

I had forgotten for a moment that Maurice had told me that she makesbandages. She looked at me and her manner froze--I can't think why I_felt_ she thought I had no right to question her--I say "looked atme"--but I am never quite sure what her eyes are doing, because shenever takes off her yellow glasses--Those appear to be gazing at me atall events. 

"I make bandages. "

"Aren't you dead tired after working all day with me?"

"I have not thought about it--the bandages are badly needed. "

Her pencil was in her hand, and the block ready--she evidently did notmean to go on conversing with me. This attitude of continuous diligenceon her part has begun to irritate me. She never fidgets--just works allthe time. 

I'll ask Burton what he thinks of her at luncheon to-day--As I saidbefore, Burton knows the world. 

 * * * * *

"What do you think of my typist, Burton?"

He was putting a dish of make-believe before me--it is a meatlessday--my one-legged cook is an artist but he thinks me a fool because Iwon't let him cheat--our want of legs makes us friendly though. 

"And with a brother in the trade I could get Monsieur chickens and whathe would wish!" he expostulates each week. 

"A-hem"--Burton croaked. 

I repeated the question. 

"The young lady works very regular. "

"Yes--That is just it--a kind of a machine. "

"She earns her money Sir Nicholas. "

"Of course she does--I know all that--But what do you think of her?"

"Beg pardon Sir Nicholas--I don't understand?"

I felt irritated. 

"Of course you do--What kind of a creature I mean--?"

"The young lady don't chatter Sir--She don't behave like bits of girls. "

"You approve of her then Burton?"

"She's been here a fortnight only, Sir Nicholas, you can't tell in thetime"--and that is all I could get out of him--but I felt the verdictwhen he did give it would be favourable. 

Insignificant little Miss Sharp--!

What shall I do with my day--? that is the question--my rotten uselessidle day?--I have no more inspiration for my book--besides Miss Sharphas to type the long chapter I gave her yesterday. I wonder if she knowsanything about William and Mary furniture really?--she never launches aremark. 

Her hands are very red these last days--does making bandages redden thehands?

I wonder what colour her eyes are--one can't tell with that blurredyellow glass--. 

Suzette came in just as I wrote that; she seldom turns up in theafternoon. She caught sight of Miss Sharp typing through the open door. 

"_Tiens!_" she spit at me--"Since when?"

"I am writing a book, Suzette. "

"I must see her face, " and without waiting for permission, Suzetteflounced into the small salon. 

I could hear her shrill little voice asking Miss Sharp to be so good asto give her an envelope--She must write an address! I watched her--MissSharp handed her one, and went on with her work. 

Suzette returned, closing the door, without temper, behind her. 

"Wouff!" she announced to me--"No anxiety there--an _Anglaise_--notappetizing--not a _fausse maigre_ like us, as thin as a hairpin! Nothingfor thou Nicholas--and _Mon Dieu!_--she does the family washing by herhands--I know! mine look like that when I have taken one of myfortnights at the sea!"

"You think it is washing?--I was wondering--. "

"Does she take off her glasses ever, Nicholas?"

"No perhaps she has weak light eyes. One never can tell!"

Suzette was not yet quite at ease about it all--. I was almost driven toask Miss Sharp to remove her glasses to reassure her. 

Women are jealous even of one-legged half blind men! I would like to askmy cook if he has the same trouble--but--Oh! I wish anything mattered!

Suzette showed affection for me after this--and even passion! I would bequite good-looking she said--when I should be finished. Glass eyes wereso well made now--"and as for legs!--truly my little cabbage, they areas nimble as a goat's!"

Of course I felt comforted when she had gone. 

 * * * * *

The hot days pass--Miss Sharp has not asked for a holiday, she plodsalong, we do a great deal of work--and she writes all my letters. Andthere are days when I know I am going to be busy with my friends, when Itell her she need not come--there was a whole week at the end of July. Her manner never alters, but when Burton attempted to pay her sherefused to take the cheque. 

"I did not earn that" she said. 

I was angry with Burton because he did not insist. 

"It was just, Sir Nicholas. "

"No, it was not, Burton--If she did not work here, she was out of pocketnot working anywhere else. You will please add the wretched sum to thisweek's salary. "

Burton nodded stubbornly, so I spoke to Miss Sharp myself. 

"It was my business as to whether I worked or did not work for aweek--therefore you are owed payment in any case--that is logic----. "

A queer red came into her transparent skin, her mouth shut firmly--Iknew that I had convinced her, and that yet for some reason she hatedhaving to take the money. 

She did not even answer, just bowed with that strange aloofness that isnot insolent. Her manner is never like a person of the lower classes, trying to show she thinks she is an equal. It has exactly the rightnote--perfectly respectful as one who is employed, but with the sereneunselfconsciousness that only breeding gives. Shades of manner are veryinteresting to watch. Somehow I _know_ that Miss Sharp, in her washedcotton, with her red little hands, is a lady. 

I have not seen my dear Duchesse lately--she has been down to one of hercountry places--where she sends her convalescents, but she is returningsoon. She gives me pleasure--. 

 * * * * *

_August 30th_--The interest in the book has flagged lately--I could notthink of a thing, so I proposed to Miss Sharp to have a holiday. Sheaccepted the fortnight without enthusiasm. Now she is back and we havebegun again--Still I have no _flair_--Why do I stick to it?--Justbecause I have said to the Duchesse that I _will_ finish it?----Ihave an uneasy feeling that I do not want to probe my real reason--Iwould like to lie even to this Journal. Lots of fellows have been uponthe five days' leave lately, things are going better--they jolly one, and I like to see them, but after they go I feel more of a rotten beastthan ever. The only times I forget are when Maurice brings the fluffiesto dine with me--when they rush up to Paris from Deauville. We drinkchampagne--(they love to know how much it costs) and I feel gay as aboy--and then in the night I have once or twice reached out for myrevolver. They have all gone back to Deauville now. 

Perhaps it is Miss Sharp who irritates me with her eternaldiligence--What is her life--who are her family? I would like to knowbut I will not ask--I sit and think and think what to write about in mybook. I have almost come to the end of grinding out facts about Walnutand ball fringe--and she sits taking it all down in short-hand, neverraising her head, day after day--. 

Her hair is pretty--that silky sort of nut brown with an incipient wavein it--her head is set on most gracefully, I must admit, and thecomplexion is very pale and transparent--But what a firm mouth!--Notcold though--only firm. I have never seen her smile. The hands are wellshaped really--awfully well shaped, if one watches them--How long wouldit take to get them white again I wonder? She has got good feet, too, thin like the hands--. How worn her clothes look--does she never have anew dress--?

Yes Burton, I will see Madame de Clerté--. 

 * * * * *

Solonge de Clerté is a philosopher--she has her own aims--but I do notknow them. 

"Writing a book, Nicholas?" There was the devil of a twinkle in hereye--"There is a poor boy wounded in the leg who would make a perfectsecretary if you are not satisfied. "

I grew irritated--. 

"I am quite satisfied"--we heard the noise of the typing machine frombeyond--these modern doors allow nothing to be unknown. 

"Young, is she?" Madame de Clerté asked turning her glance in thatdirection. 

"I don't know and don't care--she types well"--. 

"_Hein?_"

She saw that I was becoming enraged. --My dinners are good and the war isnot yet over--. 

"We shall all be terribly interested--yes--when we read the result--. "

"Probably"--. 

Then she told me of complications occurring about Coralie's husband. 

"Of an insanity to attempt the three at once" she sighed--. 

And now I can turn to my journal again--Good God--the last pages haveall been about Miss Sharp--ridiculous, exasperating Miss Sharp! did Iwrite ridiculous?--No--it is I who am ridiculous--I shall go for adrive--!

 * * * * *

God! what is the meaning of it all--!

I have been in hell----I came in from my drive very quietly, it wasearly, a quarter to six, Miss Sharp goes at six--It was a horriblychilly evening and Burton had lit a bright wood fire--and I suppose itscrackling prevented my hearing the sounds which were coming from thenext room for a minute. I sat down in my chair--. 

What was that?--the _roucoulements_ of a dove?--No, a woman's voicecooing foolish love words in French and English--and a child's treblegurgling fondness back to her. It seemed as if my heart stoppedbeating--as if every nerve in my spine quivered--a tremendous emotion ofI know not what convulsed me. --I lay and listened and suddenly I felt mycheek wet with tears--then some shame, some anger shook me, and Istarted to my feet, and hobbled to the door which was ajar--I opened itwide--there was Miss Sharp with the _concierge's_ daughter's baby on herlap fondling it--the creature may be six months old. Her horn spectacleslay on the table. She looked up at me, the slightest flash of timidityshowing--but her eyes--Oh! God! the eyes of the Madonna--heavenly blue, tender as an angel's--soft as a doe's--. I could have cried aloud withsome pain in the soul--and so that brute part of me spoke--. 

"How dare you make this noise"?--I said rudely--"do you not know that Ihave given orders for complete quiet"--. 

She rose, holding the child with the greatest dignity--The picture shemade could be in the Sistine Chapel. 

"I beg your pardon" she said in a voice which was not quite steady--"Idid not know you had returned, and Madame Bizot asked me to hold littleAugustine while she went to the next floor--it shall not occur again!"

I longed to stay and gaze at them both--I would have liked to havetouched the baby's queer little fat fingers--I would have liked--Oh--Iknow not what--And all the time Miss Sharp held the child protectively, as though something evil would come from me and harm it. --Then sheturned and carried it out of the room--and I went back into mysitting-room and flung myself down in my chair--. 

What had I done--Beast--brute--What had I done?

And will she never come back again?--and will life be emptier thanever--?

I could kill myself--. 

 * * * * *

It shall not be only Suzette but six others for supper to-night--. 

_Five a. M. _--The dawn is here and it is not the rare sound of an Augustpigeon that I am listening to, but the tender cooing of a woman and achild--God, how can I get it out of my ears. 

V

This morning I feel as if I could hardly bear it until Miss Sharparrives--I dressed early, ready to begin a new chapter although I havenot an idea in my head, and, as the time grows nearer, it is difficultfor me to remain still here in my chair. 

Have I been too impossible?--Will she not turn up?--and if she does not, what steps can I take to find her?--Maurice is at Deauville with therest, and I do not know Miss Sharp's home address--nor if she has atelephone--probably not. My heart beats--I have every feeling ofexcitement as stupid as a woman! I analyse it all now, how mentalemotion reacts on the physical--even the empty socket of my eye aches--Icould hardly control my voice when Burton began a conversation about myorders for the day just now. 

"You would not be wishin' for the company of your Aunt Emmeline, SirNicholas"?--he asked me--. 

"Of course not, Burton, you old fool--"

"You seem so much more restless, sir--lately--"

"I am restless--please leave me alone. "

He coughed and retired. 

Now I am listening again--it wants two minutes to the hour--she is neverlate. 

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten--. It feels asif the blood would burst the veins--I cannot write. 

She came after all, only ten minutes beyond her usual time, but theyseemed an eternity when I heard the ring and Burton's slow step. I couldhave bounded from my chair to open the door myself. --It was a telegram!How this always happens when one is expecting anyone with desperateanxiety--A telegram from Suzette. 

"I shall return to-night, _Mon Chou_. "

Her cabbage!--_Bah!_ I never want to see her again--. 

Miss Sharp must have entered when the door was opened for the telegram, for I had begun to feel pretty low again when I heard her knock at thedoor of the sitting-room. 

She came in and up to my chair as usual--but she did not say heraccustomary cold good morning. I looked up--the horn spectacles wereover her eyes again, and the rest of her face was very pale--while therewas something haughty in the carriage of her small head, it seemed tome. Her eternal pad and pencil were in her little thin, red hands. 

"Good morning"--I said tentatively, she made a slight inclination asmuch as to say--"I recognize you have spoken, " then she waited for me tocontinue. 

I felt an egregious ass, I knew I was nervous as a bird, I could notthink of anything to say--I, Nicholas Thormonde, accustomed to any oldthing! nervous of a little secretary!

"Er--would you read me aloud the last chapter we finished"--I barked atlast lamely. 

She turned to fetch the script from the other room--. 

I must apologize to her, I knew. 

She came back and sat down stiffly, prepared to begin. 

"I am sorry I was such an uncouth brute yesterday, " I said--"It was goodof you to come back--. Will you forgive me?"

She bowed again. I almost hated her at that moment, she was making mefeel so much--A foolish arrogance rose in me--

"We had better get to work I suppose, " I went on pettishly. 

She began to read--how soft her voice is, and how perfectlycultivated. --Her family must be very refined gentlefolk--ordinaryEnglish typists have not that indescribable distinction of tone. 

What voices mean to one!--The delight of that exquisite sound ofrefinement in the pronunciation. Miss Sharp never misplaces aninflection or slurs a word, she never uses slang, and yet there isnothing pedantic in her selection of language--it is just as if herhabitual associates were all of the same class as herself, and that shenever heard coarse speech. --Who can she be--?

The music of her reading calmed me--how I wish we could be friends--!

"How old is Madame Bizot's grandchild?" I asked abruptly, interrupting. 

"Six months, " answered Miss Sharp without looking up. 

"You like children?"

"Yes--. "

"Perhaps you have brothers and sisters?"

"Yes--. "

I knew that I was looking at her hungrily--and that she was purposelykeeping her lids lowered--. 

"How many?"

"Two--. "

The tone said, "I consider your questions impertinent--. "

I went on--

"Brothers?"

"One brother. "

"And a sister?"

"Yes. "

"How old?"

"Eleven and thirteen. "

"That is quite a gap between your ages then?"

She did not think it necessary to reply to this--there was the faintestimpatience in the way she moved the manuscript. 

I was so afraid to annoy her further in case she should give me noticeto go, that I let her have her way, and returned to work. 

But I was conscious of her presence--thrillingly conscious of herpresence all the morning. I never once was able to take the worknaturally, it was will alone which made me grind out the words. 

There was no sign of nervousness in Miss Sharp's manner--I simply didnot exist for her--I was a bore, a selfish useless bore of an employer, who was paying her twice as much as anyone else would, and she must inreturn give the most perfect service. As a man I had no meaning. As awounded human being she had no pity for me--but I did not want herpity--what did I want?--I cannot write it--I cannot face it--. Am I tohave a new torment in my life?--Desiring the unattainable?--Eating myheart out; not that woman can never really love me again, but that, wellor ill, the consideration of _one_ woman is beyond my reach--. 

Miss Sharp is not influenced because I am or am not a cripple--If I wereas I was when I first put on my grenadier's uniform, I should still notexist for her probably--she can see the worthless creature that Iam--Need I always be so?--I wish to God I knew. 

 * * * * *

_Night. _

She worked with her usual diligence the entire day almost, not takingthe least notice of me, until at five o'clock when my tea came I rangfor her--Perhaps it was the irritation reacting upon my sensitivewrenched nerves, but I felt pretty rotten, my hands were damp--anotherbeastly unattractive thing, which as a rule does not happen to me--Iasked her to pour out the tea. 

"If you will be so kind, " I said--"I have let Burton go out"--Mercifullythis was true--she came in as a person would who knew you had a right tocommand--you could not have said if she minded or no. 

When she was near me I felt happier for some reason. 

She asked me how I took my tea--and I told her--. 

"Are you not going to have some with me?" I pleaded. 

"Mine is already on my table in the next room--thank you"--and she rose. 

In desperation I blurted out--. 

"Please--do not go!--I don't know why, but I feel most awfully rottento-day. "

She sat down again and poured out her cup. 

"If you are suffering shall I read to you?" she said--"It might send youto sleep--" and somehow I fancied that while her firm mouth neversoftened, perhaps the eyes behind the horn spectacles might not be sostony. And yet with it all something in me resented her pity, if shefelt any. Physical suffering produces some weaknesses which respond tosympathy, and the spirit rages at the knowledge that one has given way. I never felt so mad in all my year of hell that I cannot be a man andfight--as I did at that moment. 

A French friend of mine said--In English books people were alwayshaving tea--handing cups of tea! Tea, tea--every chapter and everyscene--tea! There is a great deal of truth in it--tea seems to bring thecharacters together--at tea time people talk, it is the excuse to callat that hour of leisure. We are too active as a nation to meet at anyother time in the day, except for sport--So tea is our link and we shallgo down through the ages as tea fiends--because our novelists whoportray life accurately, chronicle that most of the thrilling scenes ofour lives pass among tea cups!--I ventured to say all this to Miss Sharpby way of drawing her into conversation. 

"What could one describe as the French doing most often?"--I askedher--. 

She thought a moment. 

"They do not make excuses for anything they do, they have not to have apretext for action as we have--They are much less hypocritical andself-conscious. "

I wanted to make her talk--. 

"Why are we such hypocrites?"

"Because we have set up an impossible standard for ourselves, and hateto show each other that we cannot act up to it. "

"Yes, we conceal every feeling--We show indifference when we feelinterest--We pretend we have come on business when we have come simplyto see someone we are attracted by--. "

She let the conversation drop. This provoked me, as her last remarkshowed how far from stupid she is. 

That nervous feeling overcame me again--Confound the woman!

"Please read, " I said at last in desperation, and I closed my one eye. 

She picked up a book--it happened to be a volume of de Musset--and sheread at random--her French is as perfect as her English--The last thingI remember was "_Mimi Pinson_"--and when I awoke it was past six o'clockand she had gone home. 

I wonder how many of us, since the war, know the desolation ofwaking--alone and in pain--and helpless--Of course there must behundreds. If I am a rotter and a coward about suffering, at all eventsit does not come out in words--and perhaps it is because I am such amixture that I am able to write it in this journal--If I were purelyEnglish I should not be able to let myself go even here--. 

Suzette came to dinner--I thought how vulgar she looked--and that if herhands were white they were podgy and the nails short. The three blackhairs irritated my cheek when she kissed me--I was brutal and moved myhead in irritation--. 

"_Tiens?! Mon Ami!_"--she said and pouted. 

"Amuse me!" I commanded--. 

"So! it is not love then, Nicholas, thou desirest--Bear!"

"Not in the least--I shall never want love again probably. Divertme!--tell me--tell me of your scheming little mouse's brain, and yourkind little heart--How is it '_dans le metier_'?"

Suzette settled herself on the sofa, curled up among the pillows like aplump little tabby cat. She lit a cigarette--. 

"Very middling, " she whiffed--"Cases of love where all my good counselremains untaken--a madness for drugs--very foolish--A drug--yes totry--but to continue!--_Mon Dieu!_ they will no longer make fortunes'_dans le metier_'--"

"When you have made your fortune, Suzette, what will you do with it?"

"I shall buy that farm for my mother--I shall put Georgine into aconvent for the nobility, and arrange a large dot for her--and forme?--I shall gamble in a controlled way at Monte Carlo--. "

"You won't marry then, Suzette?"

"Marry!" she laughed a shrill laugh--"For why, Nicholas?--A tie-up toone man, _hein_?--to what good?--and yet who can say--to be an honoredwife is the one experience I do not know yet!"--she laughed again--. 

"And who is Georgine--you have not spoken of her before, Suzette?"

She reddened a little under her new terra cotta rouge. 

"No?--Oh! Georgine is my little first mistake--but I have herbeautifully brought up, Nicholas--with the Holy Mother at St. Brieux. Iam then her Aunt--so to speak--the wife of a small shop keeper inParis, you must know--She adores me--and I give all I can to _St. Georges-des-Près_--. Georgine will be a lady and marry the Mayor'sson--one day--. "

Something touched me infinitely. This queer little _demi-mondaine_mother--her thoughts set on her child's purity, and the conventionalmarriage for her--in the future. Her plebeian, insolent little roundface so kindly in repose. 

I respect Suzette far more than my friends of the world--. 

When she left--it was perhaps in bad taste, but I gave her a quite heavyfour figure cheque. 

"For the education of Georgine--Suzette. "

She flung her arms round my neck and kissed me frankly on both cheeks, and tears were brimming over in her merry black eyes. 

"Thou hast after all a heart, and art after all a gentleman, Nicholas--_Va!_--"--and she ran from the room. 

VI

For two days after I last wrote, I tried not to see Miss Sharp--I gaveshort moments to my book--and she answered a number of business letters. She knows most of my affairs now, --Burton transmits all the bills andpapers to her. --I can hear them talking through the thin door. Theexcitement of that time I was so rude seems to have used up my vitality, an utter weariness is upon me, I have hardly stirred from my chair. 

The ancient guardsman, George Harcourt, came to lunch yesterday. He wasas cynically whimsical as ever--He has a new love--an Italian--and untilnow she has refused all his offers of presents, so he is taking atremendous interest in her--. 

"In what an incredible way the minds of women work, Nicholas!" hesaid--"They have frequently a very definite aim underneath, but they'grasshopper'--. "

I looked puzzled I suppose--. 

"To 'grasshopper' is a new verb!" he announced--"Daisy Ryven coinedit. --It means just as you alight upon a subject and begin tackling it, you spring to another one--These lovely American war workers'grasshopper' continuously. --It is impossible to keep pace with them. "

I laughed. 

"Yet they seem to have quite a definite aim--to get pleasure out oflife. "

[Illustration: Alathea (Harriet Hammond) disguised with colored glassesand plain clothes arrives to take up her duties as secretary to SirNicholas (Lew Cody). (A scene from Elinor Glyn's production "Man andMaid" for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer)]

"To 'grasshopper' does not prevent pleasure to the grasshopper. --It isonly fatiguing to the listener. You can have no continued sensibleconversation with any of these women--they force you to enjoy only theirskins--"

"Can the Contessa talk?"

"She has the languour of the South--She does not jump from one subjectto another, she is frankly only interested in love. "

"Honestly, George--do you believe there is such a thing as real love?"

"We have discussed this before, Nicholas--You know my views--but I amhoping Violetta will change them. She has just begun to ask daily if Ilove her"--

"Why do women always do that--even one's little friends continuallymurmur the question?"

"It is the working of their subconscious minds----Damn good cigarsthese, my dear boy--pre-war eh?----Yes it is to justify theirsurrender--They want to be assured _in words_ that you adorethem--because you see the actions of love really prove nothing of loveitself. A stranger who has happened to appeal to the senses can callthem forth quite as successfully as the lady of one's heart!"

"It is logical of women then to ask that eternal question?"

"Quite--I make a point of answering them always without irritation. "

----I wonder--if Miss Sharp loved anyone would she?----but I amdetermined not to speculate further about her--. 

When Colonel Harcourt had gone--I deliberately rang my bell--and whenshe came into the room I found I was not sure what I had rung for--It isthe most exasperating fact that Miss Sharp keeps me in a continual stateof nervous consciousness. 

Her manner was indifferently expectant, if one can use such aparadoxical description--. 

"I--I--wondered if you played the piano?--"I blurted out. 

She looked surprised--if one can ever say she looks anything, with theexpression of her eyes completely hidden. She answered as usual with oneword--. 

"Yes. "

"I suppose you would not play to me?--er--it might give me aninspiration for the last chapter--"

She went and opened the lid of the instrument. 

"What sort of music do you like?" she asked. 

"Play whatever you think I would appreciate. "

She began a Fox trot, she played it with unaccountable spirit and taste, so that the sound did not jar me--but the inference hurt a little. Isaid nothing, however. Then she played "Smiles, " and the sweetcommonplace air said all sorts of things to me--Desire to live again, and dance, and enjoy foolish pleasures--How could this little iceberg ofa girl put so much devilment into the way she touched the keys? If ithad not been for the interest this problem caused me, the longing thesounds aroused in me to be human again, would have driven me mad. 

No one who can play dance music with that lilt can be as cold as astone--. 

From this she suddenly turned to Debussy--she played a most difficultthing of his--I can't remember its name--then she stopped. 

"Do you like Debussy?" I asked. 

"No, not always. "

"Then why did you play it?"

"I supposed you would. "

"If you had said in plain words, 'I think you are a rotter who wantsfirst dance music, then an unrestful modern decadent, brilliantly cleverset of disharmonies, ' you could not have expressed your opinion of memore plainly. "

She remained silent--I could have boxed her ears. 

I leaned back in my chair, perhaps I gave a short harsh sigh--if a sighcan be harsh--I was conscious that I had made some explosive sound. 

She turned back to the piano again and began "Waterlily" and then"1812"--and the same strange quivering came over me that I experiencedwhen I heard the cooing of the child. --My nerves must be in an awfulrotten state--Then a longing to start up and break something shook me, break the windows, smash the lamp--yell aloud--I started to my oneleg--and the frightful pain of my sudden movement did me good andsteadied me. 

Miss Sharp had left the piano and came over to me--. 

"I am afraid you did not like that, " she said--"I am so sorry"--hervoice was not so cold as usual. 

"Yes I did--" I answered--"forgive me for being an awful ass--I--I--lovemusic tremendously, you see--"

She stood still for a moment--I was balancing myself by the table, mycrutch had fallen. Then she put out her hand. 

"Can I help you to sit down again?"--she suggested. 

And I let her--I wanted to feel her touch--I have never even shakenhands with her before. But when I felt her guiding me to the chair, themaddest desire to seize her came over me--to seize her in my arms totear off those glasses, to kiss those beautiful blue eyes they hid--tohold her fragile scrap of a body tight against my breast, to tell herthat I loved her--and wanted to hold her there, mine and no one else'sin all the world----My God! what am I writing--I must crush thisnonsense--I must be sane--. But--what an emotion! The strongest I haveever felt about a woman in my life--. 

When I was settled in the chair again--things seemed to become blank fora minute and then I heard Miss Sharp's voice with a tone--could it be ofanxiety? in it? saying "Drink this brandy, please. " She must have goneto the dining-room and fetched the decanter and glass from the case, and poured it out while I was not noticing events. 

I took it. 

Again I said--"I am awfully sorry I am such an ass. "

"If you are all right now--I ought to go back to my work, " sheremarked--. 

I nodded--and she went softly from the room. When I was alone, I usedevery bit of my will to calm myself--I analysed the situation. MissSharp loathes me--I cannot hold her by any means if she decides to go--. The only way I can keep her near me is by continuing to be the coolemployer--And to do this I must see her as little as possible--becausethe profound disturbance she is able to cause in me, reacts upon my rawnerves--and with all the desire in the world to behave like a decent, indifferent man, the physical weakness won't let me do so, and I am sobound to make a consummate fool of myself. 

When I was in the trenches and the shells were coming, and it wasbeastly wet and verminy and uncomfortable, I never felt this feeble, horrible quivering--I know just what funk is--I felt it the day I didthe thing they gave me the V. C. For. This is not exactly funk--I wish Iknew what it was and could crush it out of myself--. 

Oh! if I could only fight again!--that was the best sensation inlife--the zest--the zest!--What is it which prompts us to do decentactions? I cannot remember that I felt any exaltation specially--itjust seemed part of the day's work--but how one slept! How one enjoyedany old thing--!

Would it be better to end it all and go out quite? But where should Igo?--the _me_ would not be dead. --I am beginning to believe inreincarnation. Such queer things happened among the fellows--I supposeI'd be born again as ugly of soul as I am now--I must send for somebooks upon the subject and read it up--perhaps that might give meserenity. 

The Duchesse returned yesterday. I shall go and see her this afternoon Ithink, --perhaps she could suggest some definite useful work I coulddo--It is so abominably difficult, not being able to get about. What didshe say?--She said I could pray--I remember--she had not time, shesaid--but the _Bon Dieu_ understood--I wonder if He understands me--? oram I too utterly rotten for Him to bother about?

 * * * * *

The Duchesse was so pleased to see me--she kissed me on both cheeks--. 

"Nicholas! thou art better!" she said--"As I told you--the war is goingto end well--!"

"And how is the book?" she asked presently--"It should be finished--I amtold that your work is intermittent--. "

My mind jumped to Maurice as the connecting link--the Duchesse of coursemust have seen him--but I myself have seen very little of Mauricelately--how did he know my work was intermittent--?

"Maurice told you?" I said. 

"Maurice?"--her once lovely eyes opened wide--she has a habit ofscrewing them up sometimes when she takes off her glasses. --"Do yousuppose I have been on a _partie de plaisir_, my son--that I should haveencountered Maurice--!"

I dared not ask who was her informant--. 

"Yes, I work for several days in succession, and then I have no ideas. It is a pretty poor performance anyway--and is not likely to find apublisher. "

"You are content with your Secretary?"

This was said with an air of complete indifference. There was no meaningin it of the kind Madame de Clerté would have instilled into the tone. 

"Yes--she is wonderfully diligent--it is impossible to dislodge her fora moment from her work. She thinks me a poor creature I expect. "

The Duchesse's eyes, half closed now, were watching me keenly--. 

"Why should she think that, Nicholas--you can't after all fight. "

"No----but--. "

"Get well, my boy--and these silly introspective fancies will leaveyou--Self analysis all the time for those who sit still--they imaginethat they matter to the _Bon Dieu_ as much as a _Corps d'Armée_--!"

"You are right, Duchesse, that is why I said Miss Sharp--mytypist--probably thinks me a poor creature--she gets at my thoughts whenI dictate. "

"You must master your thoughts----"

And then with a total change of subject she remarked. 

"Thou art not in love, Nicholas?"

I felt a hot flush rise to my face--What an idiotic thing to do--moresilly than a girl--Again how I resent physical weakness reacting on mynerves. 

"In love!"--I laughed a little angrily--"With whom could I possibly bein love, _chère amie_?! You would not suggest that Odette or Coralie orAlice could cause such an emotion!"

"Oh! for them perhaps no--they are for the senses of men--they are theexotic flowers of this forcing time--they have their uses--although Imyself abhor them as types--but--is there no one else?"

"Solonge de Clerté?--Daisy Ryven?--both with husbands--. "

"Not as if that prevented things" the Duchesse announcedreflectively--"Well, well--Some of my _blessés_ show just your symptoms, Nicholas, and I discover almost immediately it is because they are inlove--with the brain--with the imagination you must understand--that isthe only dangerous kind--. When it is with a pretty face alone--a gooddose and a new book helps greatly. "

"There would be no use in my being in love, Duchesse--"

"It would depend upon the woman--you want sympathy and a guidinghand--_Va!_--"

Sympathy and a guiding hand!

"I liked ruling and leading when I was a man--"

"----We all have our ups and downs--I like my own bed--but last nightan extra batch of _blessés_ came in--and I had to give it up to onewhose back was a mass of festers--he would have lain on the floorelse--. What will you--_hein?_--We have to learn to accommodateourselves to conditions, my son. "

Suddenly the picture of this noble woman's courage came to me vividly, her unvarying resourcefulness--her common sense--her sympathy withhumanity--her cheerfulness--I never heard her complain or repine, evenwhen fate took her only son at Verdun--Such as these are the glory ofFrance--and Coralie and Odette and Alice seemed to melt intonothingness--. 

"The war will be finished this autumn--" she told me presently--"andthen our difficult time will begin--. Quarrels for all the world--Notgood fighting--But you will live to see a Renaissance, Nicholas--and soprepare for it. "

"What can I do, dear friend--If you knew how much I want to dosomething!"

"Your first duty is to get well. --Have yourself patchedtogether--finished so to speak, and then marry and found a family totake the place of all who have perished. It was good taste when I wasyoung not to have too many--but now!--France wants children--andEngland too. There is a duty for you, Nicholas!"

I kissed her hand--. 

"If I could find a woman like you!" I cried--"indeed then I wouldworship her--. "

"So--so--! There are hundreds such as I--when I was young I lived asyouth lives--You must not be too critical, Nicholas. "

She was called away then, back to one of the wards, and I hobbled downthe beautiful staircases by myself--the lift was not working. Thedescent was painful and I felt hot and tired when I reached the groundfloor, it was quite dusk then, and the one light had not yet been lit. Aslight wisp of a figure passed along the end of the corridor. I couldnot see plainly, but I could have sworn it was Miss Sharp--I called hername--but no one answered me so I went on out, --the servant, agedninety, now joining me, he assisted me into my one horse Victoria beyondthe concierge's lodge. 

Miss Sharp and the Duchesse!--? Why if this is so have I never been toldabout it?--The very moment Maurice returns I must get him to investigateall about the girl--In the meantime I think I shall go to Versailles--. I cannot stand Paris any longer--and the _masseur_ can come out there, it is not an impossible distance away. 

VII

 RESERVOIRES, VERSAILLES. September 10th. 

How I love Versailles--the jolliest old hole on earth--(I wonder why oneuses slang like this, I had written those words as an exact reflectionof my thoughts--and nothing could be more inexact as a description ofVersailles! It is as far from being "jolly" as a place can be--nor is ita "hole!") It is the greatest monument which the vanity of one man evererected, and like all other superlatives it holds and interests. If the_Grand Monarque_ squandered millions to build it, France has reapedbillions from the pockets of strangers who have come to look at it. Andso everything that is well done brings its good. Each statue is apersonal friend of mine--and since I was a boy I have been in love withthe delicious nymph with the shell at the bottom of the horse-shoedescent before you come to the _tapis vert_ on the right hand side. Shehas two dimples in her back--I like to touch them--. 

Why did I not come here sooner? I am at peace with the world--Burtonwheels me up onto the terrace every evening to watch the sunset from thetop of the great steps. All the masterpieces are covered with penthouses of concrete faced with straw, but the lesser gods and goddessesmust take their chance. 

And sitting here with peaceful families near me--oldgentlemen--soldiers on leave--a pretty war widow with a great whitedog--children with spades--all watching the glorious sky, seated ingroups on the little iron park chairs, a sense of stupefaction comesover me--for a hundred or two kilometres away men are killing oneanother--women are searching for some trace of their homes--the groundis teeming with corpses--the air is foetid with the smell of death!And yet we enjoy the opal sunset at Versailles and smile at the quaintappearance of the camouflaged bronzes!

Thus custom deadens all painful recollections and so are we able tolive. 

I wonder what Louis XIV would say if he could return and be among us?He, with all his faults being a well bred person, would probably adapthimself to circumstances, as the Duchesse does. 

Suzette suggested that she should come and stay the week end outhere--She wants change of air she says. I have consented. --Miss Sharpdoes not bring her eternal block and pencil until Tuesday--when Suzettewill have left. 

Now that I am peaceful and have forgotten my perturbations, Suzette willjolly me up--I have used the right term there!--Suzette does jollyone--! I feel I could write out here, but not about William and Maryfurniture--! I could write a cynical story of the Duc de Richelieu'sloves. --Armande, the present duc, tells me that he has a dispatch boxfilled with the love letters his ancestor received--their preservationowed to a faithful valet who kept them all separated in bundles tiedwith different ribbons--and every lock of hair and souvenir attached toeach. --There is an idea!--I wonder if Burton has ever thought of keepingmine? He would not have had a heavy job in these last years--!

I read all the mornings, seated in the sun--I read Plato--I want tofurbish up my Greek--For no reason on earth except that it is difficult, and perhaps if I start doing difficult things I may get more will. 

 * * * * *

Suzette arrived in an entirely new set of garments--the "_geste_" hadaltered, she said, one had to have a different look, and she was surethe autumn fashions would be even more pronounced. 

"As you can readily understand, my friend, one cannot be _démodé, dansle metier_, --especially in war time!--"

Naturally I agreed with her--. 

"The only unfortunate part is that it obliged me to break into the sumfor Georgine's education. "

"That is at least reparable"--I answered, and reached for mycheque-book--Suzette is such a good little sort--and clothes give herpleasure--and fancy being able to give _real pleasure_ for a fewthousand francs--pleasure, not comfort, or charity, or any respectablething, but just _pleasure_! The only worry about this cheque was thatSuzette was a little too affectionate after it!--I would nearly alwaysrather only talk to her--now. 

She accompanied my bath chair on to the terrace. Her ridiculous littleoutline and high heels contradicting all ideas of balance, and yetpresenting an indescribable elegance. She prattled gaily--then when noone was looking she slipped her hand into mine. 

"_Mon cher! Mon petit chou!_" she said. 

We had the gayest dinner in my sitting-room--. 

"The war was certainly nearing its close--Toinette, the friend of one ofthe Generals, assured her--people were thoroughly bored, and it was anexcellent thing to finish it--. "

"But even when peace comes, never again the restaurants open all nightto dance, Nicholas!--there is a sadness, my friend!"

That was one of the really bad aspects of wars--the way they upsetpeople's habits--, she told me. Even "_dans le metier_" things became ofan uncertainty! '--One was never sure if the _amant_ would not bekilled--and it might be difficult to replace him advantageously!'

"It is perhaps fortunate for you that I am wounded and an institution, Suzette!"

"Thou--Nicholas!--Just as if I did not understand--I represent nothingbut an agreeable passing of some moments to thee--Thou art not an_Amant_!--Not even a little pretense of loving me thou showest!"--

"But you said you never allowed yourself to care--perhaps I have thesame idea--"

She shook with laughter. 

"An artist at love thou, Nicholas--but no lover!"

"It is a nice distinction--would you like me better if I were a lover?"

"We have before spoken of this, _Mon ami_--If you were a lover--that is, if you loved--you would be dangerous even with your one leg and your oneeye--a woman could be foolish for you. There is that air of _Grandseigneur_--that air of--mocking--of--_Mon Dieu!_ Something which I can'tfind my word for--Thou art _rudement chic cheri_!"

I wished then that I had made the cheque larger--because there wassomething in her merry black eyes which told me she meant what shesaid--at the moment. I must be grateful to my money though after all--Icould not be "_rudement chic_" or a "_Grand seigneur_" without it--Thuswe get back to material things again!

----I wonder if material things could affect Miss Sharp?--One side ofher certainly--or she could not have played that dance music----Whatcan she think about all day?--certainly not my affairs, attending tothem must be purely mechanical--. I know she is not stupid. She playsbeautifully--she thinks--she has an air, and knowledge of the world. IfI were not so afraid of losing her I would act toward her quitedifferently--I would chance annoying her by making her talk--but thatfear holds me back. 

George Harcourt says that between men and women, no matter what therelation may be, one or the other holds the reins and is the realarbiter of things, and that if you find yourself not in the happyposition of master, there are many occasions when a man must lookridiculous. --I feel ridiculous when I think about Miss Sharp. I am"demand" and she is "supply"--I am wanting every moment of her time, andto know all her thoughts--and she is entirely uninterested in me, andgrants nothing. 

 * * * * *

Suzette left last evening in the best of moods--I made the chequelarger--and now I am awaiting Miss Sharp in my sitting-room--I love thishotel--it has an air of indifference about it which is soothing, and thefood is excellent. 

 * * * * *

Miss Sharp arrived about eleven to-day. Her cheeks were quite pink whenshe came in, and I could see she was warm with walking. --I wish I hadremembered to send to the station to meet her. 

"Do you think we shall be able to work here?" I asked her--"we have onlythe _résumé_ chapter to do, and then the book will be finished. "

"Why not here as well as any other place?"

"Does not environment matter to you?"

"I suppose it would if I were creating it, it does not matter now. "

"Do you ever write--I mean write on your own?"

"Sometimes. "

"What sort of things?"

She hesitated for a moment and then said as though she regretted havingto speak the truth. --

"I write a journal. "

I could not prevent myself from replying too eagerly--. 

"Oh! I should like to see it!--er--I write one too!"--

She was silent. I felt nervous again--. 

"Do you put down your impressions of people--and things?"

"I suppose so--. "

"Why does one write a journal?--" I wanted to hear what she wouldanswer. 

"One writes journals if one is lonely. "

"Yes, that is true. Then you are lonely?"

Again she conveyed to me the impression that I had shown bad taste inasking a personal question--and I felt this to be unjust, because injustice, she would have been forced to admit that her words were achallenge. 

"You explain to me why one writes journals, and then when I presume uponthe inference you snub me--You are not fair, Miss Sharp--"

"It would be better to stick to business, " was all she answered--"willyou dictate, please?"

I was utterly exasperated--. 

"No, I won't!--If you only admit by inference that you are lonely, I sayit right out--I am abominably lonely this morning and I want to talk toyou. --Did I see you at the Duchesse de Courville-Hautevine's onWednesday last?"

"Possibly. "

I literally had not the pluck to ask her what she was doing there. However, she went on--. 

"There are still many wounded who require bandages--. "

That was it! of course--she was bringing bandages!

"She is a splendid woman, the Duchesse, she was a friend of mymother's--" I said. 

Miss Sharp looked down suddenly--she had her head turned towards thewindow. 

"There are many splendid women in France--but you don't see them--thepoor are too wonderful, they lose their nearest and dearest and nevercomplain, they only say it is '_la Guerre_!'. "

"Have you any near relations fighting?"--

"Yes"--

It was too stupid having to drag information out of her like this--Igave it up--and then I was haunted by the desire to know what relationsthey were?--If she has a father he must be at least fifty--and he mustbe in the English Army--why then does she seem so poor?--It can't be abrother--her's is only thirteen--would a cousin count as a nearrelation?--or--can she have a _fiancé_--?!

The sudden idea of this caused me a nasty twinge--But no, her thirdfinger has no ring on it. --I grew calmer again--. 

"I feel you have a hundred thousand interesting things to say if youwould only talk!" I blurted out at last. 

"I am not here to talk, Sir Nicholas--I am here to do your typing. "

"Does that make a complete barrier?--Won't you be friends with me?"

Burton came into the room at that moment--and while he was there sheslipped off to her typing without answering me. Burton has arranged aplace for her in his room, which is next to mine, so that I shall not bedisturbed by the noise of her machine clicking. 

"Miss Sharp must lunch with me"--I said. 

Burton coughed as he answered. 

"Very good, Sir Nicholas. "

That meant that he did not approve of this arrangement--why?--Reallythese old servants are unsupportable. 

The antediluvian waiters come in to lay the table presently, and Iordered peaches and grapes and some very special chablis--I feltexultant at my having manoeuvred that Miss Sharp should eat with me!

She came in when all was ready with her usual serene calm--and took herplace at right angles to me. 

Her hands are not nearly so red to-day, and their movements when shebegan to eat pleased me--her wrists are tiny, and everything she does isdainty. 

She did not peck her food like a bird, as very slight people sometimesdo--and she was entirely at ease--it was I who was nervous--. 

"Won't you take off your glasses, " I suggested--but she declined--. 

"Of what use--I can see with them on. "

This disconcerted me. 

The waiter poured out the chablis carefully. She took it casuallywithout a remark, but for an instant a cynical expression grew round hermouth--What was she thinking of?--it is impossible to tell, not seeingher eyes--but some cynical thought was certainly connected with thewine--By the direction of her head she may have been reading the labelon the bottle--Does she know how much it cost and disapprove of that inwar time--or what?

We talked of French politics next, --that is, she answered everything Isaid with intelligence, and then let the subject dropimmediately--Nothing could be more exasperating because I knew it wasdeliberate and not that she is stupid, or could not keep up the mostprofound conversation. She seemed to know the war situation verywell--Then I began about French literature--and at the end of the mealhad dragged out enough replies to my questions to know that she is anexquisitely cultivated person--Oh! what a companion she would make ifonly I could break down this wretched barrier of her reserve!

She ate a peach--and I do hope she liked it--but she refused a cigarettewhen I offered her one--. 

"I don't smoke. "

"Oh, I am so sorry I did not know--" and I put out mine. 

"You need not do that--I don't mind other people smoking, so long as Ineed not do it myself. "

I re-lit another one--. 

"Do you know--I believe I shall have my new eye put in beforeChristmas!" I told her just before she rose from the table--and for thefirst time I have known her, the faintest smile came round her mouth--akindly smile--. 

--"I am so very glad, " she said. 

And all over me there crept a thrill of pleasure. 

After lunch I suggested the _parc_, and that I should dictate in somelovely cool spot. She made no objection, and immediately put on herhat--a plain dark blue straw. She walked a little behind my bath chairas we turned out of the Reservoires courtyard and began ascending theavenue in the _parc_, so that I could not converse with her. By the timewe had reached the _parterre_ I called to her--

"Miss Sharp"--

She advanced and kept beside me--. 

"Does not this place interest you awfully?" I hazarded. 

"Yes. "

"Do you know it well?"

"Yes. "

"What does it say to you?"

"It is ever a reminder of what to avoid. "

"What to avoid! but it is perfectly beautiful. Why should you want toavoid beauty?!"

"I do not--it is what this was meant to stand for and what human beingsfailed in allowing it to do--that is the lesson. "

I was frightfully interested. 

"Tell me what you mean?"

"The architects were great, the king's thought was great--but only inone way--and everyone--the whole class--forgot the real meaning of_noblesse oblige_, and abused their power--and so the revolution sweptthem away--They put false value upon everything--false values upon birthand breeding--and no value upon their consequent obligations, or uponcharacter--. "

"You believe in acknowledging your obligations I know"--

"Yes--I hope so--Think in that palace the immense importance which wasgiven to etiquette and forms and ceremonies--and to a quite ridiculousfalse sense of honour--they could ruin their poor tradesmen and--yet--. "

"Yes"--I interrupted--"it was odd, wasn't it?--a gentleman was still agentleman, never paying his tailor's bills--but ceased to be one if hecheated at cards--. "

Miss Sharp suddenly dropped her dark blue parasol and bent to pick it upagain--and as she did she changed the conversation by remarking thatthere were an unusual quantity of aeroplanes buzzing from Buc. 

This was unlike her--I cannot think why she did so. I wanted to steerher back to the subject of Versailles and its meaning--. 

Burton puffed a little as we went up the rather steep slope by the _Ailedu Nord_, and Miss Sharp put her hand on the bar and helped him to pushthe chair. 

"Is it not hateful for me being such a burden"--I could not helpsaying--. 

"It leaves you more time to think--. "

"Well! that is no blessing--that is the agony--thinking. "

"It should not be--to have time to think must be wonderful"--and shesighed unconsciously. 

Over me came a kind of rush of tenderness--I wanted to be strong again, and protect her and make her life easy, and give her time and love andeverything in the world she could wish for--But I dared not sayanything, and she hung back again a little, and once more it made theconversation difficult--and when we reached a sheltered spot by the"_point du jour_" I felt there was a sort of armour around her, and thatit would be wiser to go straight to work and not talk further to-day. 

She went directly from the _parc_ to catch her train at fiveo'clock--and I was wheeled back to the hotel. 

And now I have the evening alone before me--but the day is distinctly astep onward in the friendship line. 

VIII

I spent a memorable day with Miss Sharp in the _parc_ yesterday. I donot even remember what I did in the intermediate time--it seems of solittle importance--but this Thursday will always stand out as a landmarkof our acquaintance. 

We drove in a fiacre to the Little Trianon after she arrived, withBurton on the box to help me out, and then I walked with my crutch to adelicious spot I know, rather near the grotto, and yet with a view ofthe house--I was determined I would entice her to talk as much as Icould, and began very cautiously so as not to provoke her to suggestwork. 

"Have you ever read that wonderful story called 'An Adventure'--The twoold ladies seeing Marie Antoinette and some other ghosts here?"

"No. "

So I told her about it, and how they had accounted for it. 

"I expect it was true, " she said. 

"You believe in ghosts then?"

"Some ghosts. "

"I wish I did--then I should know that there is a beyond--. "

I felt she was looking surprised. 

"But of course there is a beyond--we have all been there many timesduring our evolution, after each life. "

"That is what I want to know about--that theory of reincarnation, " Iresponded eagerly--"can you tell me?"

"I could get you a book about it--. "

"I would much rather hear it personally explained--the merestoutline, --please tell me, it might help me not to be such a rotter--. "

She looked away toward the giant trees, her mouth had a slightly sadexpression, I could have torn those glasses off her blue eyes!

"We came up through the animal group soul--and finally were re-bornindividualized, into man--and from then onward the life on this earth isbut a school for us to learn experience in, to prepare us eventually forhigher spheres. When we advance far enough we need not be re-bornagain--. "

"Yes--as a theory--I follow that--. "

She went on--

"Everything is _cause_ and _effect_--We draw the result of every actionwe commit, good or bad--and sometimes it is not until the next re-birthwe pay for the bad ones, or receive the result of the good ones--. "

"Is that why then that I am a cripple and life seems a beastlyaffair--?"

"Of course--You drew that upon yourself by some actions in your lastlife--. Also it may be to teach you some lesson in the improvement ofthe soul--. "

"I don't seem to have learned anything--I believe I am rebellious allthe time--. "

"Probably. "

"Miss Sharp--you could really help me if you would. Please explain tome--I will be a diligent pupil. "

"Perhaps you were in a position of great power the last time, and werelavish and kind to people in a way--or you would not be so rich now--butyou caused suffering and relied upon yourself, not on anythingdivine--you must have caused much suffering, perhaps mentally even, andso you had to be re-born and be wounded--to teach you the lesson of itall;--that is called your Karma. Our Karma is what we bring on with usfrom life to life in the way of obligations which we must discharge--soyou see it rests with each one of us not to lay up more debts to pay inthe future. "

Her refined voice was level, as though she were controlling herself, notto allow any personal feeling to enter her discourse--her gloved handswere perfectly still in her lap--She was in profile to me so that Icould see that her very long eyelashes seemed to be rather pressedagainst the glasses--I have not before been so close to her in a brightlight. --Why does she wear those damned spectacles? I was thinking, whenshe said--

"You find it hard to be confined to your chair and not to be able tofight, don't you?--Well when you could fight it was not always thepleasure of going over the top? You had to have times in the trenchestoo, hadn't you--when you just had to bear it?"

"Of course--?"

"Well--you are in the trenches now, don't you see--and it is accordingto how your soul learns the lesson of them, as to whether in this lifeyou will ever be allowed to go over the top again--or even to havepeace. "

"What is the lesson?"

"I am not God--I cannot tell you--but we would all know what our lessonto learn is, if we were not too vain to face the truth into ourselves. "

"The aim being?"--

"Why of course to improve character and learn strength. "

"What qualities do you most admire in a person, Miss Sharp?"

"Self control and strength. "

"You have no sympathy with weaklings?"

"None whatever--bad strong people are better than weak good ones. "

I knew this was true. This fragile creature suggests infinite repose andstrength--what could she have done in a former life to bring her back insuch unkind surroundings, that she must spend her days in drudgery, sothat she has never even leisure to think?--I longed to ask her, but didnot dare. 

"Shall we not begin work now, " she suggested--and I demonstrated myfirst lesson in self control by agreeing, and we did not talk againuntil luncheon time. 

"If you don't mind we shall go to the little café by the _lac_, " Isaid--"and then afterwards we can find another place and workagain--Burton will have had my wheeled chair brought down there, so wecan choose a decent spot in one of the _bosquets_. "

She nodded slightly--Now that it was not to help my moral regenerationshe did not intend to talk any more, it seemed!

As we got into the fiacre I slipped in the slightest degree, and caughton to her arm--It was bare to the elbow in the little cheap cottonfrock, and as I touched the fine, fine skin, that maddening feeling cameover me again to clasp her in my arms. --I pulled myself together, andshe got in beside me. She has a darling tiny curl which comes behind herear, slipped down probably because her hair is so unfashionablydressed--None of Suzette's "_geste_, " nor even the subtle perfect tasteof the fluffies. --It is just torn back and rolled into a tight twist. But now that I see her out of doors and in perspective I realize thatshe has a lovely small figure, and that everything is in the rightplace. I had told Burton to order the nicest lunch he could think of inthat simple place, and our table under one of the umbrellas was waitingfor us when we arrived. 

There were only four other people there besides ourselves, and a fewcame in afterwards. 

I had forgotten my bread tickets, so Miss Sharp gave me one of hers. Shehad relapsed into absolute silence. The only words she had uttered aswe came down that avenue from The Trianon to the _lac_ were when Iexclaimed at the beauty of it--I judged by her mouth that she wasadmiring it too--and she said softly--

"For me, Versailles is the loveliest spot on earth!"

My mind flew then to the thought of what it would be to buy a reallynice house here and spend the summers--with her--for my own--. I foundmyself clutching at my crutch--. 

I tried to make conversation at lunch. There is nothing in the world sodifficult as to keep this up when you are nervous with interest, and theother person is determined not to say a sentence which is unnecessary. Achill crept over me. 

Burton turned up in time to pay the bill and put me into my chair. 

"I don't think you look well enough to stay out the afternoon, SirNicholas"--he said--"Better go straight back to the hotel and rest--. "

Miss Sharp joined in. 

"I was going to say that"--she said. 

I felt like a cross, disappointed child--I knew they were both rightthough; I was feeling pretty tired and had not an idea in my head. Butif I did that, there would be a chance to see her lost--and all the longhours to face alone--. 

"I am quite all right and I want to work, " I said fretfully--and westarted off. 

We went up through the lovely _allées_ past _Enceledus_--and on to the_Quinconce du Nord_, Miss Sharp walking a little behind my chair. 

Here Burton bent over me--. 

"It would be good for you to be taking a nap, Sir Nicholas--Indeed itwould. "

It seemed as if Miss Sharp was abetting him, for she came to my side--. 

"If you can get quite comfortable--I would read to you, and you mightsleep, " she said--. 

"We've no book"--I retorted--peeved, and yet pleased at the idea. 

"I have one here which, will do"--and she took a little volume from herbag. --"I have wanted it for a long time, and I bought it at the _Foire_as I came from the station to-day--it cost a franc!"

It was a worn eighteenth century copy of François Villon--. 

"Yes, that will be nice, " I agreed--and leaned back while Burton settledmy cushion, and then retired to a distance. Twelve years on and off ofParis has not taught him French--at least not the French of FrançoisVillon!

Miss Sharp took a little _parc_ chair and I was able to watch her as sheread--I did not even hear the words--because, as she was looking down Ihad not to guard myself, but could let my eye devour her small ovalface. All my nerves were thrilling again and there was no peace--how Ilonged--ached--to take her into my arms!

She looked up once after an hour, to see if I were asleep, Isuppose. --She must have observed passionate emotion in my eye--shelooked down at the book instantly, but a soft pink flush came into hercheeks--which have a mother of pearl transparency usually. This causedme deep pleasure--I had been able to make her feel something at anyrate! but then I was frightened--perhaps she would suggest going if shefound the situation uncomfortable. Her voice had a fresh tone in it asshe went on, and finally it faltered, and she stopped. 

"If it is not putting you to sleep" she remarked--"perhaps you would notobject if I walked on and typed what I took down this morning--It seemsa pity to waste this time. "

I knew that if I did not let her have her way there might bedifficulties, so I agreed--and said that I would go back to the hoteland rest upon the sofa in the salon--So the procession started, and aswe took the _allée_, to bring us to the Reservoirs on the level--Isuddenly caught sight of Coralie and her last favoured one!--both ofwhom are supposed to be at Deauville with the rest!

Coralie was exquisitely dressed, Duquesnois in uniform. 

I realized that she had seen us, and that she could not avoid coming upto talk, although that had not been her intention--When one is supposedto be at Deauville with one's family, and is in reality at Versailleswith one's lover--one does not seek to recognize one's friends!

She came forward with _empressement_ when she found the meeting wasinevitable--. 

"Nicholas!" she cooed "--what happiness!"--

Then she eyed Miss Sharp mischievously, making a movement as though sheexpected me to introduce them--. 

But Miss Sharp defeated this by immediately walking on--. 

"_Tiens!_" said Coralie--. 

"That is Miss Sharp--my secretary--What are you doing--here Coralie?"

"Perhaps the same as you, _cher ami_--" and she rippled withlaughter--"Versailles is so tranquil a place!"

I could have slapped her--fortunately Miss Sharp was out of earshot--. 

Jean Duquesnois now joined in--he was back from the front for twodays--things were going better--peace would certainly be declared beforeChristmas--. 

Coralie meanwhile was looking after Miss Sharp with an expression uponher clever face which only a Frenchwoman is able to put there--It saidas plainly as words, "So this is the reason Nicholas!--Well you havechosen something very every-day and inexpensive this time!--Men arecertainly crazy in their tastes!"

I pretended not to notice, and so she spoke. 

"Why if you can come here cannot you come to Deauville, Nicholas?--theremust be some irresistible attraction stronger than to be with yourfriends!"

"Yes--he is an excellent Swedish masseur who is glued to Paris. --Also Ilike solitude sometimes--. "

"Solitude!" and Coralie glanced at Miss Sharp's rapidly disappearingfigure--. "_Hein?_"

I would not permit myself to grow angry. 

"The book is nearly finished--you can tell the rest--. "

"That old book! You were much more entertaining before you commenced it, Nicholas! Perhaps the idea has come to me why!"

I would not be drawn--I threw the war into the enemy's country. 

"You are staying at the Reservoirs?"

I saw that she was--and that now the thought of my being theredisconcerted her--. 

"But no!" she lied sweetly--"I am merely out here for the day to seeLouise, who has a son in the hospital--. "

It was my turn to say--

"_Tiens?_"

And then we both laughed--and I let them go on--. 

But when I got into my salon--I heard no typing--only there was a notefrom Miss Sharp to say that some slight thing had gone wrong with themachine, so she had taken the work to finish it at home--. 

I cursed Coralie and all the fluffies in the world, and then in painlaid down upon my bed. 

IX

_Saturday Morning:_

Yesterday I was so restless I could not settle to anything. I read pagesand pages of Plato and was conscious that the words were going over inmy head without conveying the slightest meaning, and that the other partof my mind was absorbed with thoughts of Miss Sharp--. If I only daredto be natural with her we surely could be friends, but I am alwaysobsessed with the fear that she will leave me if I transgress in theslightest beyond the line she has marked between us--. I see that she isdetermined to remain only the secretary, and I realize that it is herbreeding which makes her act as she does--. If she were familiar orfriendly with me, she would feel it was not correct to come to my flatalone--She only comes at all because the money is so necessary toher--and having to come, she protects her dignity by wearing this icemask. --I know that she was affronted by Coralie's look on Thursday, andthat is why she went home pretending the typing machine was out oforder--Now if any more of these _contretemps_ happen she will probablygive me warning. Burton instinctively sensed this, and that is why hedisapproved of my asking her to lunch--If she had been an ordinarytypist Burton would not have objected in the least, --as I said before, Burton knows the world!

Now what is to be done next?--I would like to go and confide in theDuchesse, and tell her that I believe I have fallen in love with mysecretary, who won't look at me, and ask her advice--but that I fearwith all her broad-minded charity, her class prejudice is too strong tomake her really sympathetic. Her French mind of the _Ancien Régime_could not contemplate a Thormonde--son of Anne de Mont-Anbin--falling inlove with an insignificant Miss Sharp who brings bandages to theCourville hospital!

These thoughts tormented me so all yesterday that I was quite feverishby the evening--and Burton wore an air of thorough disapproval. A rainshower came on too, and I could not go up on the terrace for the sunset. 

I would like to have taken asperines and gone to sleep, when nightcame--but I resisted the temptation, telling myself that to-morrow shewould come again. 

I am dawdling over this last chapter on purpose--and I have re-read theformer ones and decided to rewrite one or two, but at best I cannotspread this out over more than six weeks, I fear, and then what excusecan I have for keeping her? I feel that she would not stay just toanswer a few letters a day, and do the accounts and pay the bills withBurton. I feel more desperately miserable than I have felt since lastyear--And I suppose that according to her theory, I have to learn alesson. It seems if I search, as she said one must do without vanity, that the lesson is to conquer emotion, and be serene when everythingwhich I desire is out of reach. 

 * * * * *

_Saturday Night:_

To-day has been one of utter disaster and it began fairly well. MissSharp turned up at eleven as I shut my journal. I had sent to thestation to meet her this time--She brought all the work she had takenaway with her on Thursday, quite in order--and her face wore the usualmask. I wonder if I had not ever seen her without her glasses if Ishould have realized now that she is very pretty--I can see herprettiness even with them on--her nose is so exquisitely fine, and themouth a Cupid's bow really--if one can imagine a Cupid's bow very firm. I am sure if she were dressed as Odette, or Alice, or Coralie, she wouldbe lovely. This morning when she first came I began thinking of this andof how I should like to give her better things than any of the fluffieshave ever had--how I would like her to have some sapphire bangles forthose little wrists and a great string of pearls round that littlethroat--my mother's pearls--and perhaps big pearls in those shellears--And how I would like to take her hair down and brush it out, andlet it curl as it wanted to--and then bury my face in it--those stifftwists must take heaps of hair to make. --But why am I writing all thiswhen the reality is further off than ever, and indeed has become animpossibility I fear. 

We worked in the sitting-room--it was a cloudy day--and presently, afterI had been dreaming on in this way, I asked her to read over theearlier chapters of the book. --She did--. 

"Now what do you think of the thing as a whole?" I asked her. 

She was silent for a moment as though trying not to have to answerdirectly, then that weird constitutional honesty seemed to force out thewords. 

"It perhaps tells what that furniture is. "

"You feel it is awful rot?"

"No--. "

"What then?"

"It depends if you mean to publish it?"

I leaned back and laughed--bitterly! the realization that she understoodso completely that it was only a "_soulagement_"--an "asperine" for me, so to speak as the Duchesse said--cut in like a knife. I had theexasperated feeling that I was just being pandered to, humored byeveryone, because I was wounded. I was an object of pity, and even mypaid typist--but I can't write about it. 

Miss Sharp started from her chair, her fine nostrils were quivering, andher mouth had an expression I could not place. 

"Indeed, it is not bad, " she said--"You misunderstand me--. "

I knew now that she was angry with herself for having hurt me--and thatI could have made capital out of this, but something in me would not letme do that. 

"Oh--it is all right--" I replied, but perhaps my voice may have beenflat and discouraged--for she went on so kindly. 

"You know a great deal about the subject of course--but I feel thechapters want condensing--May I tell you just where?"

I felt that the thing did not interest me any more, one way or another, it was just a ridiculous non-essential--. I saw it all in a newperspective--but I was glad she seemed kindly--though for a moment eventhat appeared of less importance. Something seemed to have numbed me. What, what could be the good of anything?--the meaning of anything?--Iunconsciously put my head back against the cushion of my chair inweariness--I felt the soft silk and shut my eye for a moment. 

When Miss Sharp spoke again, her voice was full of sympathy--and was itremorse--?

"I would like to help you to take interest in it--again--won't you letme?" she pleaded. 

I was grateful that she did not say she was sorry she had hurt me--thatI could not have stood--. 

I opened my eye now and looked at her, she was bending nearer to me, butI felt nothing particular, only a desire to go to sleep and have donewith it all. It was as if the fabric of my make-believe had been rentasunder. 

"It is very good of you, " I answered politely--"Yes--say what youthink. "

Her tact is immense--she plunged straight into the subject withoutfurther imputation of sympathy, --her voice, full of inflections ofinterest and friendliness, her constrained self-control laid aside forthe time. She spoke so intelligently, showing trained criticalfaculties--and at last my numbness began gradually to melt, and I couldnot help some return of sensation. There may have been soothing syrup inthe fact that she must have been interested in the work, or she couldnot have dissected it chapter by chapter, point by point, as she wasdoing. 

She grew animated as we discussed things, and once unconsciously tookoff her glasses--It was like the sun coming out after days of stormclouds--her beautiful, beautiful blue eyes!--My "heart gave a bound"--(Ibelieve that is the way to express what I mean!)--I felt a strangeemotion of excitement and pleasure--I had not time to control myadmiration, I expect, --for she took fright and instantly replaced them, a bright flush in her cheeks--and went on talking in a more reservedway--Alas!--

Of course then I realized that she does not wear the glasses for anyreason of softening light or of defective sight, but simply to hidethose blue stars and make herself unattractive--. 

How mysterious it all is!--

I wish I had been able to conceal the fact that I had noticed that theglasses were off--Another day I would certainly have taken advantage ofthis moment and would have tried to make her confess the reason of herwearing them; but some odd quality in me prevented me from reaping anyadvantage from this situation, so I let the chance pass. --Perhaps shewas grateful to me, for she warmed up a little again. 

I began to feel that I might write the fool of a book right over fromthe beginning--and suggested to her that we should take it in detail. 

She acquiesced--. 

Then it suddenly struck me that she had not only spoken of style inwriting, of method in book making--but had shown an actual knowledge ofthe subject of the furniture itself. --How could little Miss Sharp, apoverty stricken typist, be familiar with William and Mary furniture?She has obviously not "seen better days, " and only taken up astenographic business lately, because such proficiency as she shows, notonly in this work but in account keeping and all the duties of asecretary, must have required a steady professional training. 

Could she have studied in Museums?

But the war has been on for four years and I had gathered that she hasbeen in Paris all that time--Even if she had left England in 1914, shecould only have been eighteen or nineteen then, and girls of that age donot generally take an interest in furniture. This thought kept botheringme--and I was silent for some moments. I was weighing things up. 

Her voice interrupted my thoughts. 

"The Braxted chair has the first of the knotted fringes known"--it wassaying. 

I had spoken of the Braxted chair--but had not recorded this fact--. 

How the devil could she have known about it?

"Where did you find that?"

"I knew someone who had seen it--" she answered in the same voice, buther cheeks grew pinker--. 

"You have never seen it yourself?"

"No--I have never been in England--. "

"----Never been in England?"

I was stupefied. 

She went on hurriedly--I was going to write feverishly, --so quickly didshe rush into questions of method in arranging the chapters, her armourwas on again--she had become cautious, and was probably annoyed withherself for ever having allowed herself to slip off her guard. 

I knew that I could disconcert her, and probably obtain some interestingadmissions from her--and have a thrilling fencing match, but someinstinct warned me not to do so--I might win out for the time being, butif she has a secret which she does not wish me to discover, she willtake care not again to put herself in a situation where this can happen. I have the apprehension always hanging, like Damocles' sword, over myhead, of her relinquishing her post. Besides, why should I trouble herfor my own satisfaction?--However, I registered a vow then that I wouldfind out all I could from Maurice. 

The inference of everything she says, does and unconsciously infers, isthat she is a cultivated lady, accustomed to talking with people of ourworld--people who know England and its great houses well enough to havemade her familiar with the knowledge of where certain pieces of famousfurniture are. --The very phrasing of her sentences is the phrasing ofour Shibboleth, and not the phrasing of the professional classes. 

And yet--she is meanly dressed--does housework--and for years must havebeen trained in professional business methods. It is profoundlyinteresting. 

I have never even questioned Maurice as to how he heard of her. 

Well, I write all this down calmly, the record of the morning, to letmyself look back on it, and to where the new intimacy might have led us, but for the sickening end to the day. 

Burton did not question her lunching with me this time--he had given theorder as a matter of course--He is very fine in his distinctions, andunderstood that to make any change after she once had eaten with mewould be invidious. 

By the time the waiters came in to lay the table, that sense of hurt, and then of numbness, had worn off--I was quite interested again in thework, and intensely intrigued about the possible history of the Sharpfamily!

I was using cunning, too, and displaying casual indifference, sowatchfulness was allowed to rest a little with the strange girl. 

"I believe if you will give me your help I shall be able to make quitea decent book of it after all, --but does it not seem absurd to troubleabout such thing's as furniture with the world in ruins and Empirestottering!"--I remarked while the ark-relic handed the omelette--. 

"All that is only temporary--presently people will be glad to take upcivilized interests again. "

"You never had any doubt as to how the war would end?"

"Never. "

"Why?"

"Because I believe in the gallantry of France, and the tenacity ofEngland, and the--youth of America. "

"And what of Germany?"

"The vulgarity. "

This was quite a new reason for Germany's certain downfall--! Itdelighted me--. 

"But vulgarity does not mean weakness!"

"Yes it does--Vulgar people have imperfect sensibilities, and cannotjudge of the psychology of others, they appraise everything by their ownstandard--and so cannot calculate correctly possible contingencies--thatshows weakness. "

"How wise you are--and how you think!"

She was silent. 

"All the fighting nations will be filled with vulgarians even when we dowin, though with most of the decent people killed--" I ventured tosay--. 

"Oh! no--Lots of their souls are not vulgar, only their environment hascaused their outward self-expression to seem so. Once you get below thepompous _bourgeoisie_ in France, for instance, the more delightful youfind the spirit, and I expect it is the same in England. It is thepretentious aspiring would-bes who are vulgar--and Germany seems filledwith them, "

"You know it well?"

"Yes, pretty well. "

"If it is not a frightfully impertinent question--how old are youreally, Miss Sharp--?" I felt that she could not be only twenty-threeafter this conversation. 

She smiled--the second smile I have seen--. 

"On the twentieth of October I shall be twenty-four. "

"Where on earth did you learn all your philosophy of life in the time!"

"It is life which teaches us everything--if we are not halfasleep--especially if it is difficult--. "

"And the stupid people are like me--not liking to learn any lessons andkicking against the pricks--. ", "Yes--. "

"I would try to learn anything you would teach me though, Miss Sharp. "

"Why?"

"Because I have confidence in you"--I did not add--because I loved hervoice and respected her character and----. 

"Thank you"--she said. 

"Will you teach me?"

"What?"

"How not to be a rotter--. "

"A man knows that himself--. "

"How to learn serenity then?"

"That would be difficult. "

"Am I so impossible?"

"I cannot say--but. "

"But--what?"

"One would have to begin from the beginning--. "

"Well?"

"And I have not time--. "

I looked at her as she said this--there was in the tone a faint echo ofregret, so I wanted to see the expression of her mouth--It told menothing. 

I could not get anything further out of her, because the waiters came inand out after this rather frequently, changing the courses--and so I didnot have any success. 

After lunch I suggested as it had cleared up that we should go at leastas far as the parterre, and sit under the shadow of the terrace--theflower beds are full of beans now--their ancient glories departed. MissSharp followed my bath chair, --and with extreme diligence kept me to there-arranging of the first chapter. For an hour I watched her darlingsmall face whenever I could. A sense of peace was upon me. We werecertainly on the first rung of the ladder of friendship--andpresently--presently--If only I could keep from annoying her in any way!

When we had finished our task she rose--. 

"If you don't mind, as it is Saturday I have promised Burton"--and shelooked at him, seated on a chair beyond earshot enjoying the sun--"to doup the accounts and prepare the cheques for you to sign--. So I will goin now and begin. "

I wanted to say "Damn the accounts"--but I let her go--I must play thetortoise in this game, not the hare. She smiled faintly--the thirdsmile--as she made me a little bow, and walked off. 

After a few paces she came back again. 

"May I ask Burton for the bread ticket I lent you on Thursday, " shesaid--"No one can afford to be generous with them now, can they!"

I was delighted at this. I would have been delighted at anything whichkept her with me an extra minute. 

I watched her as she disappeared down towards the Reservoirs withlonging eyes, then I must have dozed for a while, because it was aquarter to five when I got back to my sitting-room. 

And when I was safely in my chair there was a knock on the door, and inshe came--with a cheque-book in her hand. Before I opened it or eventook it up I knew something had happened which had changed her again. 

Her manner had its old icy respect as of a person employed, all thefriendliness which had been growing in the last two or three days hadcompletely departed. I could not imagine why--. 

She put the cheque-book open, and handed me a pen to sign with, and thenI signed the dozen that she had filled in, and tore them off as I didso. She was silent, and when I had finished she took them, sayingcasually that she would bring the corrected chapter typed again onTuesday, and was now going to catch her train--and before I could reply, she had gone into the other room--. 

A frightful sense of depression fell upon me--What could it possiblybe--?

Idly I picked up the cheque-book--and absently fingered the leaves--thenmy eye caught a counterfoil where I had chanced to open it. It was notin Miss Sharp's handwriting, although this was the house cheque-bookwhich Burton usually keeps, but in my own and there was written, justcasually as I scribble in my private account. --"For Suzette 5000 francs"and the date of last Saturday--and on turning the page there was thefurther one of "For Suzette 3000 francs" and the date of Monday!!

The irony of fate!--I had picked this cheque-book up inadvertently Isuppose on these two days instead of my own. 

X

It is quite useless for me to comment upon the utterly annoyingcircumstance of that mixup of cheque-books--Such things are fate--andfate I am beginning to believe is nothing but a reflex of our ownactions. If Suzette had not been my little friend, I should not havegiven her eight thousand francs--but as she has been--and I did--I muststand by the consequences. 

After all--a man?--Well--what is the use of writing about it. I am soutterly mad and resentful that I have no words. 

It is Sunday morning, and this afternoon I shall hire the one motorwhich can be obtained here, at a fabulous price, and go into Paris. There are some books I want to get out of my bookcase--and somehow Ihave lost interest here. But this morning I shall go and sit in theparish church and hear Mass. --I feel so completely wretched, the musicmay comfort me and give me courage to forget all about Miss Sharp. Andin any case there is a soothing atmosphere in a Roman Catholic church, which is agreeable. I love the French people! They are a continualtonic, if one takes them rightly. So filled with common sense, simplyusing sentiment as an ornament, and a relaxation; and never allowing itto interfere with the practical necessities of life. Ignorant people saythey are hysterical, and over passionate--They are nothing of thekind--They believe in material things, and in the "_beau geste_. " Wherethey require a religion, they accept a comforting one; and meanwhilethey enjoy whatever comes in their way and get through disagreeablesphilosophically. _Vive la France!_

 * * * * *

I am waiting for the motor now--and trying to be resigned. --Mass did megood--I sat in a corner and kept my crutch by me. The Church itself toldme stories, I tried to see it in Louis XV's time--I dare say it lookedmuch the same, only dirtier--And life was made up with etiquette andforms and ceremonies, more exasperating than anything now. But they wereahead of us in manners, and a sense of beauty. 

A little child came and sat beside me for about ten minutes, and lookedat me and my crutch sympathetically. 

"_Blessé de la guerre_, " I heard her whisper to her mother--"_CommeJean_. "

The organ was not bad--and before I came out I felt calmer. 

After all it is absurd of Miss Sharp to be disgusted about Suzette--Shemust know, at nearly twenty-four, and living in France, that there areSuzettes--and I am sure she is not narrow-minded in any way--What canhave made her so censorious? If she took a personal interest in me itwould be different, but entirely indifferent as she is, how can itmatter to her?--As I write this, that hot sense of anger and rebellionarises in me--I'll have to keep saying to myself that I am in thetrenches again and must not complain. 

I'll make Burton find out if Coralie is really staying here, and get herto dine with me to-night--Coralie always pretended to have a _béguin_for me--even when most engaged elsewhere. 

 * * * * *

_Monday:_

Sunday was a memorable day--. 

I went through the _Bois de Marne_ on that bad road because the treeswere so lovely--and then through the _parc de St. Cloud_. Even in wartime this wonderful people can enjoy the open air life!--

I think of Henriette d' Angleterre looking from the terrace of herChâteau over the tree tops--The poor Château! not a stone of which isstanding to-day--Did she feel sentimental with her friend the Comte deGuiche--as I would like to feel now?--If I had someone to be sentimentalwith. Alas! There was an ominous hot stillness in the air, and the skybeyond the Eiffel tower had a heavy, lurid tone in it. 

When we got across the river into the _Bois de Boulogne_ it seemed as ifall Paris was enjoying a holiday. I told the chauffeur to go down a side_allée_ and to go slowly, and presently I made him draw up at the sideof the road. It was so hot, and I wanted to rest for a little, themotion was jarring my leg. 

I think I must have been half asleep, when my attention was caught bythree figures coming up another by-path obliquely--the tallest of themwas undoubtedly Miss Sharp--but Miss Sharp as I had never seen herbefore!--

And a boy of thirteen, and a girl of eleven were at either side of her, the boy clinging on to her arm, he was lame and seemed to be adreadfully delicate, rickety person. The little girl was very small andsickly looking too--but Miss Sharp--my secretary!--appeared blooming andyoung and lovely in her inexpensive foulard frock--No glasses hid herblue eyes. Her hair was not torn back and screwed into a knot, but mighthave been dressed by Alice's maid--and her hat, the simplest thingpossible, was most becoming, with the proper modish "look. "--

Refinement and perfect taste proclaimed themselves from every inch ofher, even if everything had only cost a small sum. 

So that dowdy get-up is for my benefit, and is not habitual to her!--Oris it, that she has only one costume and keeps it for Sundays and daysof _fête_?--

In spite of my determination to put all thought of her from me--a wildemotion arose--a passionate longing to spring from the car and joinher--to talk to her, and tell her how lovely I thought she was looking. 

They came nearer and nearer--I could see that her face was rippling withsmiles at something the little brother had said--Its expression wasgentle and sympathetic and it was obvious that fond affection held allthree. 

The children might have been drawn by Du Maurier in Punch long ago, toexpress a family who were overbred. Race run to seed expressed itself inevery line of them. The boy wore an Eton jacket and collar and a tallhat--and it looked quite strange in this place. 

As they got close to me I could hear him cough in the hollow way whichtells its own story--. 

I cowered down behind the hood of the motor, and they passed withoutseeing me--or perhaps Miss Sharp did see me but was determined not tolook--. I felt utterly alone and deserted by all the world--and the samenervous trembling came over me which once before made me suffer so, andagain I was conscious that my cheek was wet with a tear. 

The humiliation of it! the disgrace of such feebleness!--

When they had gone by, I started forward again to watch them--I couldhear the little girl cry, "Oh! look Alathea!" as she pointed to the sky, and then all three began to quicken their pace down another _allée_, inthe direction of Auteuil, and were soon out of sight. 

Then, still quivering with emotion, I too glanced heavenward--Ye Gods!what a storm was coming on--!

Where were they going? there into the deep wood?--it was a good mile ortwo from the Auteuil gate--They would be soaked to the skin when therain did commence to fall--and there was a thunder storm beginningalso--were they quite safe?

All these thoughts tormented me, and I gave the chauffeur orders to takea road I thought might cut across the path they had followed, and whenwe reached the spot, I made him wait. 

The livid lightning rent the sky and the thunder roared like guns, andthe few people in sight rushed, panic-stricken, in a hopeless search forshelter--far greater fear on their faces than they show at German bombs. 

My chauffeur complained audibly, as he got down to shut the car--DidMonsieur wish to be struck by lightning? he demanded, very enraged. 

Still I waited--but no Sharp family appeared--and at last I knew I hadmissed them somehow--a very easy thing in that path-bisected wood. So Itold him he could drive like hell to my _appartement_ in the _Place desEtats Unis_--and off we rushed in the now torrential rain--It was one ofthe worst thunder storms I have ever seen in my life. 

I was horribly worried as to what could have happened to that littleparty, for that _alleé_ where I had seen them, was in the very middle ofthe _Bois_, and far from any gate or shelter. They must have got soakingwet if nothing worse had happened to them. And how could I hear anythingabout them?--What should I do? Was the Duchesse in Paris?--Could I findthe address possibly from her? But would she be likely to know it? justbecause Miss Sharp--"Alathea"--(what a lovely Greek name!) broughtbandages to the hospital?

However, this was worth trying, and I could hardly wait to get out ofthe motor, and get to the telephone. The _concierge_ came out with anumbrella in great concern and took me up in the lift herself--and therewas Burton waiting for me, he had come in by train to take me backsafely later on. 

How I cursed my folly in not having asked Miss Sharp herself for heraddress! Could Burton possibly know it?--How silly of me not to havethought of that before!

"Burton, I saw Miss Sharp and her family in the _Bois_--do you knowtheir address by chance?--I want to ring up and find out if they gothome all right. "

Burton could see my anxiety--and actually hurried in his reply!

"They live in Auteuil, Sir Nicholas, but I can't exactly say where--theyoung lady never seems very particular to give me the address. She saidI should not be needing it, and that they were likely to move. "

"Get on to the Duchesse de Courville-Hautevine as quickly as you can--. "

Burton did so at once, but it seemed a long time. 

--No, Madame la Duchesse was down at Hautevine taking some freshconvalescents, and would not return until the middle of the week--ifthen!

I nearly swore aloud--. 

"Are they talking from the _concierge's_ lodge or the hotel?--Burton askat both if they know the address of a Miss Sharp who brings bandages tothe hospital!"

Of course by this time the connection had been cut off, and it tookquite ten minutes to get on again, and by that time I could have yelledaloud with the feverish fret of it all, and the pain!

No one knew anything of a "Mees Shearp. "

"Mees Shearp--_Mais non_!"

Many ladies brought bandages, _hein_?!

I mastered myself as well as I could and got into my chair--. 

And in a few moments Burton brought me a brandy and soda, and put itinto my hand. 

"It won't be cleared up enough to go back to Versailles before dinner, Sir Nicholas, " he said--and coughed--"I was just thinking maybe--you'dbe liking some friends to come in and dine--Pierre can get something infrom the restaurant, if you'd feel inclined. "

The cough meant that Burton knows I am dreadfully upset, and that underthe circumstances anything to distract me is the lesser of two evils--!

"Ask whom you please, " I answered and drank the brandy and soda down. 

Presently, after half an hour, Burton came back to me, beaming--I hadbeen sitting in my chair too exhausted even to feel pain meanwhile--. 

He had telephoned everywhere, and no one was in town, but at last, atthe Ritz, where the _concierge_ knows all my friends, he had beeninformed that Mrs. Bruce (Nina) had arrived the night before, alone--hehad got connected up at her _appartement_, and she would be ''round ateight o'clock, very pleased to dine!'

Nina!--A pleasant thrill ran through me--Nina, and without Jim--!

The wood fire was burning brightly, and the curtains were drawn whenNina, fresh as a rose, came in--. 

"Nicholas!" she cried delightedly--and held out both hands. 

"Nina!--this is a pleasure, you old dear!--now let me look at you andsee what marriage has done--. "

Nina drew back and laughed!

"Everything, Nicholas!" she said--. 

A feeling of envy came over me--Jim's ankle is stiff for life--it seemshard that an eye can make such a difference!--Nina is in love with Jim, but no woman can be in love with me. 

Her face is much softer, she is more attractive altogether. 

"You look splendid, Nina, " I told her--"I want to hear all about it. "

"So you shall when we have finished dinner, " and she handed me my crutchas I got up from my chair. 

Pierre had secured some quite respectable food, and during dinner andafterwards when we were cosily smoking our cigarettes in thesitting-room, Nina gave me all the news of our friends at home. --Everysingle one of them was still working, she said. 

"It is marvelous how they have stuck it, " I responded--. 

"Oh no, not at all, " Nina answered. "We as a nation are people ofhabit--the war is a habit to us now--heaps of us work from a sense ofduty and patriotism, others because they are afraid what would be saidof them if they did not--others because they are thankful to have somesteady job to get off their superfluous energy on--So it ends byeveryone being roped in--and you can't think, Nicholas, how divine it isto get home after long hours of drudgery, to find the person you lovewaiting for you, and to know you are going to have all the rest of thetime together, until next day!"

"No, I can't imagine the bliss of that, Nina--. "

She looked at me suddenly--. 

"Well, why don't you marry then, dear boy?"

"I would, if I thought I could secure bliss--but you forget, it would befrom pity and not love that a woman would be kind to me. "

"I am--not quite sure of that, Nicholas"--and she looked at mesearchingly--"You are changed since last time--you are not so bitter andsardonic--and you, always have that--oh! you know what Elinor Glynwrites of in her books--that "it. "--Some kind of attraction that has noname--but I am sure has a lot to do with love--. "

"So you think I have got 'it, ' Nina?"

"Yes, your clothes fit so well--and you say rather whimsicalthings--Yes, decidedly, Nicholas, now that you are not so bitter--I amsure--. "

"What a pity you did not find that out before you took Jim, Nina!"

"Oh! Jim! that is different--You have much more brain than Jim, andwould not have been nearly so easy to live with!"

"Is it going well, Nina?"

"Yes--perfectly--that is why I came to Paris alone--I knew it would begood for him--besides I wanted a rest, Nicholas. "

"I thought you had married for a rest!"

"Well, if a man 'in love' is what you really want, --and not his just'loving' you--you have to use your wits; it can't be a rest, not if hehas made you care too. --When I was just tossing up between Jim andRochester, then I had not to bother about how I behaved to them. You seeI was the, as yet, unattained desired thing--but having accepted one ofthem, he has time to think of things, not having to fight to get me, andso I have to keep him thinking of things which have still speculation inthem--don't you see?"

"You have to keep the hunting instinct alive, in fact. "

"Yes--"

"You don't think it would be possible to find someone who was just one'smate so that no game of any sort would be necessary?"

She thought hard for a moment. 

"That, of course, would be heaven--" then she sighed--"I am afraid it isno use in hoping for that, Nicholas!"

"Someone who would understand so well that silence was eloquent--someonewho would read books with one, and think thoughts with one. Someone whowould lie in one's arms and respond to caresses--and not be counting thedollars--or--doing her knitting--. Someone who was tender and kind andtrue--Oh! Nina!"

I suppose my voice had taken on a tone of emotion--I was thinking ofMiss Sharp--Alathea--that shall be her name always for me now--. 

"Nicholas!" Nina exclaimed--"My dear boy, of course you are in love!"

"And if so?"

Instantly I became of more value to Nina--she realized that she had lostme, and that some other woman drew me and not herself--and although Ninais the best sort in the world and more or less really in love with Jim, I knew that a new note could grow in our friendship if I wished toencourage it--Nina's fighting instinct had been aroused to try to get meback!

"Who with?" she demanded laconically. 

"With a dream--. "

"Nonsense! you are much too cynical--Is it anyone I know?"

"I should not think so--she has not materialised yet. "

"This is frightfully interesting, my dear old boy!"

"So you think I'll have a chance then?"

"Certainly when you are all finished. "

"My new eye is to be in before Christmas, and my new leg after the newyear, and my shoulder gets straighter every day!"

Nina laughed--. 

"Real love would be--I suppose--if you could make her adore you beforeyou looked any handsomer!"

And this sentence of Nina's rang in my ears long after she had gone, andoften in the night. I could not sleep, I felt something had happened andthat fate might be going to take Miss Sharp--Alathea--from me--. 

 * * * * *

And then before morning in fretful dreams I seemed to be obsessed by thecooing of love words between a woman and a child--. 

XI

Monday was a perfectly impossible day--I spent all the morning before Ireturned to Versailles in writing to Maurice, telling him he must findout all about Miss Sharp--Alathea--I felt if I told him her Christianname it would be a clue--and yet even to assist in that, which was, atthe moment, my heart's desire, I could not overcome my personal disliketo pronounce it to Maurice!--it seemed as something sacred to mealone--which makes me reflect upon how egotistical we all are--and howwe would all rather fail in attaining what is our greatest wish than notto be able to express our own personality--!

Nina had suggested before she left that I should stay in Paris and cometo the theatre with her--. 

"We could have some delicious old times, Nicholas, now that you are somuch better. "

Once this would have thrilled me--only last Spring! but now thecontrariness in me made me say that it was absolutely necessary that Ireturned immediately to Versailles. I believe I should have answeredlike that even if there had been no Miss Sharp, --Alathea--in the case, just because I now knew Nina really wanted me to stay--every man is likethat, more or less, if only women knew!--The whole sex relation is oneof fence--until the object has been secured--and then emotion dies outaltogether, or is revived in one or the other, but very seldom in both. Love--real love--is beyond all this I suppose, and does not depend uponwhether or no the other person excites one's desire for conquest. Lovemust be wonderful--I believe Alathea--(I have actually written itnaturally this time!--) could love. I never used to think I could, atthe best of moments I have analysed my emotions, and stood aside as itwere, and measured just how much things were meaning to me. 

But when I think of that scrap of a girl, with her elusive ways, herpride, her refinement, even her little red hands--! I have a longing--apassionate longing to hold her always near me--to know that she ismine--that for the rest of time I should be with her, learning from herhigh thoughts, comforted by her strength of character--believing inher--respecting her--Yes, that is it--_respecting her_. How few womenone meets with attractions that one really respects. --One respects manyelderly ones, of course, and abstract splendid creatures, but bringingit down to concrete facts, how few are the women who have drawn one'sadmiration or excited one's desire, who at the same time onereverenced!--Love must mean reverence--that is it. 

And what is reverence--?

The soul's acknowledgment of the purity of another--and purity in thissense means truth and honor, and lofty aims--not the denial of allpassion, or the practice of asceticism. 

I utterly reverence Alathea, and yet I am sure with that mouth--if sheloved me she would be anything but cold. How on God's earth can I makeher love me--?

I went back to Versailles after luncheon, having had to see thespecialist about my eye, he thinks the socket is so marvelously healedlately, that I could have the glass one in now much sooner thanChristmas. I wonder if some self confidence will return when I can feelpeople are not revolted when looking at me?--That again issuper-sensitiveness. Of course no one is revolted--they feel pity--andthat is perhaps worse. When I get my leg too, shall I have the nerve tomake love to Alathea and use all the arts which used to be so successfulin the old days?

I believe if I were back in 1914--I should still be as nervous as a catwhen with her--Is this one of the symptoms of love again?

George Harcourt has many maxims upon the subject of love--One is that aFrenchman thinks most of the methods of love--An Englishman more of thesensations of love--and an Austrian of the emotions of love--. I wonderif this is true? He also says that a woman does not really appreciate aman who reverences her sex in the abstract, and is chivalrous about allwomen, --she rather thinks him a simpleton--. What she does appreciate isa man who holds cynical views about the female sex in general, and showsreverence and chivalry towards herself in particular!

This I feel is probably the truth--!

I did not expect to hear anything of Alathea on the Monday, she was notdue until Tuesday at eleven o'clock, but when I came in from my sunseton the terrace, I found two telegrams, all the first one said was--

 "Extremely sorry will be unable to come to-morrow, brother seriously ill. A. Sharp--. "

And no address!

So I could not send sympathy, or even offer any help--I could have swornaloud! The storm had wrecked its vengeance on someone, then, and thepoor little chap had probably taken cold. 

If I could only be of some use to them--Perhaps getting the best Doctoris out of their reach. I was full of turmoil while I tore open the otherblue paper--this was from Suzette--. 

"I come this evening at eight. "

It was nearly seven o'clock now, so I could not put her off--and I amnot sure that I wanted to--Suzette is a human being and kindly, and herheart is warm. 

When Burton was dressing me I told him of Miss Sharp's telegram. 

"The poor young lady!" he said--. 

Burton always speaks of her as the "young lady"--he never makes amistake about class. 

Suzette for him is "Mam'zell"--and he speaks of her as a mother mightabout her boy's noisy, tiresome rackety school friends--necessary evilsto be put up with for the boy's sake--The fluffies he announces alwaysby their full titles--"Madame la Comtesse"--etc. , etc. , with a face ofstone. Nina and the one or two other Englishwomen he is politelyrespectful to, but to Miss Sharp he is absolutely reverential--she mightbe a Queen!

"I expect the poor little fellow got wet through yesterday, " Ihazarded--. 

"He's that delicate, " Burton remarked. 

So Burton knows something more about the family than I do after all--!

"How did you know he was delicate, Burton, or even that Miss Sharp had abrother?"

"I don't exactly know, Sir Nicholas--it's come out from one time toanother--the young lady don't talk. "

"How did you guess, then?"

"I've seen her anxious when I've brought in her tray--sometimes, andonce I ventured to say to her--'I beg pardon Miss, but can I do anythingfor you, ' and she took off her glasses sudden like--and thanked me, andsaid it was her little brother she was worrying about--and you maybelieve me or not as you like, Sir Nicholas, but her eyes were full oftears. "

I wonder if Burton guessed the deep emotion he was causing me--My littledarling! with her beautiful blue eyes full of tears, and I impotent tocomfort or help her--!

"Yes--yes?" I said--. 

"She told me then that he'd been delicate since birth, and she fearedthe winter in Paris for him--I do believe Sir, it's that she works sohard for, to get him away south. "

"Burton--what the devil can we do about it?"

"I don't very well know, Sir Nicholas--Many's the time I've badly wantedto offer her the peaches and grapes and other things, to take back tohim--but of course I know my place better than to insult a lady--tisn'tlike as if she were of another class you see Sir--she'd have grabbed 'emthen, but bein' as she is, she'd have been bound to refuse them, and itmight have tempted her for him and made things awkward. "

Burton not only knows the world but has tact--!

He went on, now once started. 

"I saw her outside a wine shop once when I got off the tram atAuteuil--She was looking at the bottles of port--and I made so as topass, and her not see me, but she turned and said friendlylike--'Burton, do you suppose this shop would keep really good port--?'I said as how I would go in and see, and she came with me--They had somefairly decent--though too young, Sir Nicholas, and it was thirty-fivefrancs the bottle--I saw she had not an idea it would be as much asthat--her face fell--Do you know, Sir, I could see she hadn't that muchwith her, --it was the day before she's paid you see--her colour came andwent--then she said--'I wonder Burton if you could oblige me with payingthe ten extra francs until to-morrow--I must have the best!'--You maybelieve me, Sir Nicholas, I got out my purse quick enough--and then shethanked me so sweet like--'The Doctor has ordered it for my mother, Burton, ' she said--'and of course she couldn't drink any but the best!'"

"Who on earth can she be, Burton? It does worry me--can't you possiblyfind out? I would so like to help them. "

"I feel that, Sir--but here's the way I figure it--When gentry lives inforeign towns and don't seem anxious for you to know their address itdon't seem right like to pry into it. "

"Burton, you dear old brick!--well supposing we don't try to pry, butjust try how we can possibly help her--You could certainly besympathetic about the brother since she has spoken to you--and surelysomething can be done--? I saw her at the Duchesse's you know--do yousuppose she knows her--?"

"I do, Sir Nicholas--I never meant to speak of it, but one day Her Gracecame to see you and you were out and she caught sight of Miss Sharpthrough the half open door--and she jumped like a cat, Her Grace did, 'Halthee'--she cried out--or some name like that, --and Miss Sharpstarted up and went down the stairs with her--She seemed to be kind ofexplaining, and I am not sure that Her Grace was too pleased--. "

(Burton thinks all Duchesses should be called "Grace" whether they areFrench or English. )

"Then we should certainly be able to find out from the Duchesse--. "

"Well, I would not be so sure of that Sir Nicholas--You see the Duchesseis a very kind lady, but she is a lady of the world, and she may haveher reasons. "

"Then what do you suggest, Burton?"

"Why, I hardly know--perhaps to wait and see, Sir Nicholas. "

"Masterly inactivity!"

"It might be that I could do a bit of finding out if I felt sure no harmcould come of it. "

I was not quite certain what Burton meant by this--What possible harmcould come of it?

"Find out all you can and let me know--. "

 * * * * *

Suzette opened the door and came in just as I finished dressing--Burtonleft the room. --She was pouting. 

"So the book is not completed, Nicholas?--and the English Mees comesthree times a week--_hein_?"

"Yes--does that upset you?"

"I should say!"

"May I not have a secretary?--You will be objecting to my Aunt coming tostay with me, or my dining with my friends--next!"

I was angry--. 

"No--_mon ami_--not that--they are not for me--those--but a secretary--a'Mees'--_tiens_?--for why do you want us two?"

"You _two_! good Lord! Do you think, Suzette--_Mon Dieu!_"--I now becamevery angry. "My secretary is here to type my book--. Let us understandone another quite--You have overstepped the mark this time, Suzette, andthere must be an end. Name whatever sum you want me to settle on you andthen I don't ever wish to see you again. "

She burst into frantic weeping. She had meant nothing--she wasjealous--she loved me--even going to the sea could do nothing for her! Iwas her _adoré_--her sun, moon and stars--of what matter a leg or aneye--! I was her life--her _Amant_!!

"Nonsense, Suzette!--you have told me often it was only because I wasvery rich--now be sensible--these things have to have an end some day. Ishall be going back to England soon, so just let me make you comfortableand happy and let us part friends--. "

She still stormed and raged--'There was someone else--it was the"Mees"--I had been different ever since she had come to the flat--She, Suzette, would be revenged--she would kill her--!'

Then I flew into a rage, and dominated her, and when I had herthoroughly frightened I appealed to the best in her--and when she wassobbing quietly Burton came in to say that dinner was ready--his facewas eloquent!

"Don't let the waiters see you like that, " I said. 

Suzette rushed to the glass and looked at herself, and then beganopening her gold chain bag to get out her powder and lip grease--I wenton into the salon and left her--. 

What an irony everything is--! When I was yearning for tenderness andlove--, even Suzette's, I was unable to touch her, and now because I amquite indifferent, both she and Nina, in their separate ways, have begunto find me attractive. So there is nothing in it really, it is only asto whether or no you arouse the hunting instinct!

Suzette wore an air of deep pathos during our repast--. She had put someblue round her eyes to heighten the effect of the red of the real tears, and she appeared very pretty and gentle--It had not the slightest effectupon me--I found myself looking on like a third person. The mole withits three black hairs seemed to be the only salient point about her. 

Poor little Suzette!--How glad I felt that I had never even pretended ascrap of love for her!

That astonishing sense of the fitness of things which so many of thesewomen possess, showed itself as the evening wore on--. Finding thesituation hopeless, Suzette accepted it, curbed the real emotion inherself and played the game--She tried to amuse me--and then wediscussed plans for her future. A villa at Monte Carlo she decided atlast--A _bijou_ of a place! which she knew of--. And when we parted atabout eleven o'clock everything was arranged satisfactorily. Then shesaid good-bye to me--She would go back to Paris by the last train--. 

"Good-bye, Suzette!"--and I bent down and kissed her forehead--"You havebeen the jolliest little pal possible--and remember that I haveappreciated it, --and you will always have a real friend in me!"

She burst into tears once more--real tears--. 

"_Je t'aime bien!_" she whispered--"I shall go to Deauville--_Va!_"

We wrung hands, and she went to the door, but there she turned, and someof her old fire came back to her--. 

"Pah! these English Meeses! thin, stiff, _ennuyeuse_!--thou wilt yetregret thy Suzette, Nicholas!" and with this she left me. 

 * * * * *

So that episode in my life is ended--and I shall never repeat theexperiment. 

But are not women the most amazing creatures!

You adore them and give them abject devotion and they treat you asdirt--nothing can be so cruel as the tenderest hearted woman is to amale slave--! Another woman appears upon the scene--then the first onebegins to treat you with some respect. You grow masterful--love isaroused in her. You become indifferent--and very often it is she whothen turns into the slave!--The worst of it is that when you really careyou are incapable of playing a game successfully. The woman'ssubconscious mind _knows_ that it is merely pretense--and so she remainsa tyrant. --It is only when she herself has ceased to put forthsufficient attraction to keep you and you are growing numb that you canwin out and find your self-respect again. 

There was a moment when I was very angry with Suzette and almost shakingher, when I saw in her eyes the first look of real passionateaffection--!

Are there any women in the world who could be mates?--who would be ableto love one, and hold one at the same time--satisfying one's mind andone's spirit and one's body--?--Could Alathea--?--I do not know. 

I had got this far in my speculations when a note was brought to me by asmart French maid--it was now past eleven at night--. 

It was from Coralie--. 

"I am here, _cher Ami_--I am rather in a difficulty--Can I come to yoursitting-room?"

I scribbled "of course"--and in a moment she came--seductive anddistressful. Duquesnois had been recalled to the front suddenly--herhusband would be back on the morrow--. Might she stay and have some St. Galmier water with me--could we ring the bell and order it, so that thewaiter might see her there?--because if the husband asked anything--hecould be sure it was only the much wounded Englishman, and he would notmind--!!

I was sympathetic!--the St. Galmier came. 

Coralie did not seem in a hurry to drink it, she sat by the fire andtalked, and looked at me with her rather small expressive eyes--andsuddenly I realized that it was not to save any situation that even acomplacent and much-tried war-husband might object to, but just to talkto me alone--!!

She put forth every charm she possessed for half an hour--I led heron--watching each move with interest and playing right cards in return. Coralie is very well born and never could be vulgar or blatant, so itwas all entertaining for me. This is the first time she has had thechance of being quite alone. We fenced--I showed enough _empressement_not to discourage her too soon----and then I allowed myself to benatural, which was being completely indifferent--and it worked its usualcharm!

Coralie grew restless--she got up from the sofa she stood by thefire--she came at last quite close up to my chair--. 

"What is there about you, Nicholas, " she cooed, "which makes one forgetthat you are wounded--. When I saw you even in the _parc_--with that_demoiselle_ I felt--that--"--She looked down with a sigh--. 

"How hard upon Duquesnois, Coralie! a good-looking, whole man!"

"I have tired of him, _Mon ami_--he loves me too much--the affair hasbecome tame--. "

"And I am wild, is that it?"

"A savage--yes--One feels that you would break one's bones if you wereangry--and would mock most of the time, --but if you loved. _MonDieu!_--it would be worth while!"

"You have had immense experience of love Coralie, haven't you?"

She shrugged her shoulders--. 

"I am not sure that it has been love--. "

"Neither am I. "

"They say that you have given millions to the little _demi-mondaine_Suzette la Blonde----and that you are crazy about her, Nicholas--Did Isee her on the stairs just now?"--

I frowned--. She saw in a moment it was not the right line--. "For that!it is nothing, Nicholas--they are very attractive, those ladies--oneunderstands--but--your book and your secretary?--_hein?_--"

I lit a cigarette with supreme calm, and did not answer, so that she wasobliged to go on--. 

"Her face is pretty in spite of those glasses, Nicholas--and one sawthat she walked well as she went on. "

"May not a secretary have a decent appearance then?"

"When they have they do not remain secretaries long. "

"You had better ask Miss Sharp if she means to stay when next you chanceupon her then--I don't exchange much conversation with her myself. "

There is no exact English word which would describe Coralie's face--Shewas longing to believe me--but felt she could not--quite--! She knew itwas foolish to bait me, and yet the female in her was too strong forany common sense to win--Her personality had to express herself just asstrongly about her jealousy of my secretary, as mine had to expressitself about not telling Maurice, Alathea's name, --in both cases we cutoff our noses to spite our faces. I was aware of my folly, I do not knowif Coralie was aware of hers. Her exasperation so increased in a fewmoments that she could not control herself--and she spoke right out--. 

"When we have all been so kind to you, Nicholas, it is too bad for youto waste your time upon that--!"

I became stern, then, as I had earlier become with Suzette, and madeCoralie understand that I would have no interference from anyone. Ifrightened her--and presently she left me more attracted than she hasever been--. As I said before, women are amazing creatures. 

XII

On Wednesday morning I received a reply from Maurice at Deauville--hehastened to answer he said--He had heard of Miss Sharp through a man inthe American Red Cross, where Miss Sharp had been employed. He knewnothing more about her, he had seen her once when he was interviewingher, and Miss whatever the other woman's name was, he had forgottennow--and he had thought her suitable and plain and capable, that is all. 

I had tried to word my letter not to give the impression of peculiarinterest, but no doubt Coralie, who had returned to the band on Monday, had given him her view of the case, for he added that these people wereoften designing although they looked simple--and in my loneliness hefelt sure I would be happier and better at the sea with my friends--!

I would have been angry, only there was something humorous in the wayeveryone seems to think I am incapable of managing my own affairs!--Whatis it they all want of me--? Not that I should be happy in my own way, but that I should contribute to their happiness--they want toparticipate in what my money is able to procure--and they do not wantinterference from outside. Every one of my friends--and relations--wouldbe hostile if I were to announce that I was in love with Miss Sharp, andwanted to marry her--Even though it was proved to them that she waspretty--a perfect lady--intelligent--virtuous--clever! She is not oftheir set and might, and probably would, be a stumbling block in theirpath when they wished to make use of me!--so she would be taboo! None ofthem would put it in that way of course, their opposition would be (andthey might even think they were sincere) because they were thinking of_my_ happiness!

Burton is the only person whose sympathy I could count upon!

How about the Duchesse?--that is the deepest mystery of all--I must findout from Burton what was the date about when she came to my_appartement_ and found Alathea. Was it before that time when she askedme if I were in love--and I saw that dear little figure in thepassage?--Could she have been thinking of her--?

By Thursday when there was no further news I began to feel so restlessthat I determined to go back to Paris the following week. It was allvery well to be out in the _parc_ at Versailles with a mind at ease, butit feels too far away when I am so troubled. 

I sent Burton in on Friday to Auteuil--. 

"Just walk about near the wine shop, Burton, and try to find out byevery clue your not unintelligent old pate can invent, where Miss Sharplives, and what is happening? Then go to the Hotel de Courville and chatwith the concierge--or whatever you think best--I simply can't standhearing nothing!"

Burton pulled in his lips. 

"Very good, Sir Nicholas. "

I tried to correct my book in the afternoon. I really am trying to dothe things I feel she thinks would improve my character--But I am onegnawing ache for news--Underneath is the fear that some complication mayoccur which will prevent her returning to me. I find myself listening toevery footstep in the passage in case it might be a telegram, so ofcourse quite a number of messages and things were bound to come fromutterly uninteresting sources, to fill me with hope and then disappointme--It is always like that. I really was wild on Friday afternoon, andif George Harcourt had not turned up--he is at the Trianon Palace nowwith the Supreme War Council--I don't know what I should have done withmyself. Lots of those fellows would come and dine with me if I wantedthem--some are even old pals--but I am out of tune with my kind. 

George was very amusing. 

"My dear boy, " he said, "Violetta is upsetting all my calculations--shehas refused everything I have offered her--But I fear she is beginningto show me too much devotion!"

This seemed a great calamity to him. 

"It is terribly dangerous that, Nicholas!--because you know, my dearboy, when a woman shows absolute devotion, a man is irresistiblyimpelled to offer her a back seat--it is when she appeals to his senses, shows him caprice, and remains an insecure possession, that he willoffer her the place his mother held of highest honour. "

"George, you impossible cynic!"

"Not at all--I am merely a student of human instincts andcharacteristics--Half a cynic is a poor creature--A complete one hasalmost reached the mercy and tolerance of Christ. "

This was quite a new view of the subject--!

He went on--. 

"You see, when men philosophize about women, they are generally unjust, taking the subject from the standpoint that whatever frailties theyhave, the male is at all events exempt from them. Now that isnonsense--Neither sex is exempt--and neither sex as a rule willcontemplate or admit its failings. --For instance, the sense of abstracttruth in the noblest woman never prevents her lying _for_ her lover orher child, yet she thinks herself quite honest--In the noblest man thesense is so strong that it enables him to make only the one exception, that of invariably lying _to_ the woman!"

I laughed--he puffed one of my pre-war cigars--. 

"Women have no natural sense of truth--they only rise to it throughsublime effort, "--

"And men?"

"It is ingrained in them, they only sink from it to cover their naturalinstincts of infidelity. "

His voice was contemplative now--. 

"How we lie to the little darlings, Nicholas! How we tell them we haveno time to write--when of course we have always time if we really wantto--we never are at a loss for the moments before the creatures are asecure possession!"

"The whole thing gets back to the hunting instinct, my dear George--Ican't see that one can be blamed for it--. "

"I am not blaming, I am merely analysing. Have you remarked that when aman feels perfectly secure about the woman he will give his hours ofduty to his country, his hours of leisure to his friends who flatterhim, and the crumbs snatched from either to the poor lady of his heart!But if she excites his senses, and remains problematic, he will skimphis duty, neglect his friends, and snatch even hours from sleep to spendthem in her company!"

"You don't think then that there is something higher and beyond all thisin love, George?--something which you and I have never come acrossperhaps?"

"If one met a woman who was all man in mind, all woman in body, and allchild in soul--it is possible--but where are these phoenixes to bediscovered, my son?--It is wiser not to dissatisfy oneself by thinkingof them--but just go on accepting that which is always accorded to thevery rich!--By the way, I saw Suzette la Blonde dining last night withold Solly Jesse--_Monsieur le Comte Jessé!_--She had a new string ofpearls on and was stroking his fat hand, while her lips curled withlove--I thought--??"

I lay back in my chair and laughed and laughed--And I had imagined thatSuzette really felt for me, and would grieve for at least a week ortwo--but I am replaced in four days--!

I do not think I even felt bitter--all those things seem so far awaynow. 

When George had gone, I said to myself--"All man in mind"--yes I am sureshe is--"All woman in body"--Certainly that--"All child in soul"--I wantto know about her soul--if we have souls, as Nina says--by the way, Iwill send a messenger into the Ritz with a note to ask Nina to spend theday with me to-morrow. We have got accustomed to the impossibledifficulty of telephoning to Paris, and waiting hours for telegrams--amessenger is the quickest in the end. 

How the war drags on--! Will it really finish this year afterall--people are very depressed these last days--I do not write of any ofthis in my journal--others will chronicle every shade--When I let myselfthink of it I grow too wild. I become feverish with longing to be up andwith the old regiment--When I read of their deeds--then I growrebellious. 

 * * * * *

_Monday:_

No news--yet--It is unbearable--Burton returned from Auteuil with noclue whatsoever--except that the _concierge_ at the Hotel de Courvillehad never heard of the name of Sharp! That proves to me that "Sharp" isnot Alathea's name at all. He was a newcomer--and there were so manyyoung ladies who came and went to see Madame la Duchesse that he couldnot identify anyone in particular by description. 

Nina turned up early on Saturday in time for lunch--She was lookingravishing in entirely new clothes--like Suzette, she has found that the"_geste_" is altering--Germans may be attacking Paris--Friends andrelations may be dying in heaps, but women must have new clothes andfashion must have her say as to their shapes--And what a mercy it is so!If there was nothing to relieve war and seriousness--all the nationswould be raving lunatics by now. 

"Jim will be crazy about you, Nina, when he sees you in that hat!"

"Yes, won't he! I put it on to make you crazy now!"

"Of course I always am!"

"No, Nicholas--you were once--but you are altered, some quite newinfluence has come into your life--you don't say half such horridthings. "

We lunched in the restaurant. Some of the Supreme War Council were aboutat the different tables, and we exchanged a few words--Nina preferred itto my sitting-room. 

"Englishmen do look attractive in uniform, Nicholas, don't they, " shesaid--. "I wonder if I had seen Jim in ordinary things if I would havebeen so drawn to him?"

"Who knows? Do you remember how sensible you were about him andRochester!--it is splendid that it has turned out so well. "

" . .. Where is happiness, Nicholas?" and her eyes became dreamy, --"Ihave a well balanced nature, and am grateful for what has been given mein Jim, but I can't pretend that I have found perfect content--becausesome part of me is always hungry--. I believe really that you were theonly person who could have fulfilled all I wanted in a man!"

"Nina, you had not the least feeling for me when you first saw me afterI was wounded, do you remember you felt like a sister--a mother--and afamily friend!"

"Yes, was not that odd!--because of course the things which used toattract me in you and which could again now, were there all the time. "

"At that moment you were so occupied with 'Jim's blue eyes, ' and his'white nice teeth, ' and 'how his hair was brushed, ' and 'how well hisuniform fitted'--to say nothing of his D. S. O. And his M. C. That youcould not appreciate anything else. "

"You have a V. C. , your teeth are divine, and you too have blue eyes, Nicholas--. "

"Eye--please, --the singular or plural in this case makes all thedifference, but I shall have my new one in fairly soon now and thenillusion will help me!"

Nina sighed--. 

"Illusion! I am just not going to think of what perhaps might havehappened if I had not been surrounded with illusion, last February--. "

"Well, you can always have the satisfaction of knowing that as yourinterest in Jim diminishes, so his will increase--George Harcourt and Ithrashed it all out the other day--and you yourself admitted it, when wedined. To keep the hunting instinct alive is the thing--You will havethe fondest lover when you go back to Queen Street, Nina!"

"I--suppose so--. But would it not be wonderful if one had not to playany game, but could just love and be so satisfied with each other thatthere would not be any fear--. "

Nina's eyes were sad--Did she remember my words at our last meeting?

"Yes that would be heaven!"

"Is that what you are dreaming about, Nicholas?"

"Perhaps. "

"What a fortunate woman she will be!--And of yourself, what shall yougive her?"

"I shall give her passion--and tenderness, and protection, anddevotion--she shall share the thoughts of my mind and the aspirations ofmy soul--. "

"Nicholas!--you talking in this romantic way--she must be a miracle!"

"No--she is just a little girl. "

"And it is she who has made you think about souls?"

"I expect so--. "

"Well, I must not think of them, or of anything but what a good time weshall all have when the war is over, and what nice things I've bought inParis--and of how good-looking Jim is--Let us talk of something else!"

So we spoke of every-day matters--and then we went into the _parc_--andNina stayed by my bath chair and amused me. But she does not knowanything about Versailles or its history--and she cannot makepsychological deductions--and all the time I was understanding with onepart of me that her hat was awfully becoming, and everything about herperfect; and with another part I was seeing that her brain islimited--and that if I had married her I should have been bored todeath!

And when the evening came and she left me, after our long day, I felt asense of relief--Oh! there can be no one in the world like myAlathea--with her little red hands, and cheap cotton garments! I realizenow that life used to be made up of the physical--and thatsomething, --perhaps suffering, has taught me that the mental and thespiritual matter more. 

Even if she does come back--how am I to break through the wall of icewhich she has surrounded herself with since the Suzette chequebusiness?--I can't explain--she won't even know that I have parted withher. 

Of course she has heard the fluffies often in the next room when theyhave come to play bridge in the afternoon. Perhaps she may even haveheard the idiotic things they talk about--yes--of course she must havean awful impression of me--. 

The contrast of her life and theirs--and mine! I shall go on with myPlato--it bores me--it is difficult, and I am tired--but _I will_!. 

XIII

Suspense is the hardest thing to bear--what a ridiculous truism! It hasbeen said a thousand times before and will be said a thousand timesagain!--because it has come to everyone at some moment, and so its painis universally understood. To have attained serenity would mean that onewas strong enough not to allow suspense to cause one a moment's doubt ordistress. I am far from serenity, I fear--for I am filled with unrest--Itry to tell myself that Alathea Sharp does not matter in my life atall--that this is the end--that I am not to be influenced by hermovements or her thoughts, or her comings and goings--I try not to thinkof her even as "Alathea"--And then when I have succeeded in some measurein all this, a hideous feeling of sinking comes over me--that physicalsensation of a lead weight below the heart. What on earth is the good ofliving an ugly maimed life?

It was ten times easier to carry on under the most disgusting andfearsome circumstances when I was fighting, than it is now wheneverything is done for my comfort, and I have all that money can buy. 

What money cannot buy is of the only real consequence though. I mustread Henley again, and try to feel the thrill of pride I used to feelwhen I was a boy at the line "I am the master of my fate, I am thecaptain of my soul. "

----What if she does not come back, and I do not hear any more of her?

Stop! Nicholas Thormonde, this is contemptible weakness!

 * * * * *

This evening it was wonderful on the terrace, the sun set in a blaze ofcrimson and purple and gold, every window in the _Galerie des Glasses_seemed to be on fire--strange ghosts of by-gone courtiers appeared to beflitting past the mirrors. 

What do they think of the turmoil they have left behind them, I wonder?Each generation torn by the same anguish which the worries of lovebring?--And what is love for?--Just to surround the re-creative instinctwith glamour and render it æsthetic?

Did cave men love?--They were exempt from pain of the mind at allevents. Civilization has augmented the mental anguishes, and pleasuresof love, and when civilization is in excess it certainly distorts andperverts the whole passion. 

But what is love anyway? the thing itself I mean. It is a want, and anache and a craving--I know what I want. I want firstly Alathea for myown, with everything which that term implies of possession. Then I wantto share her thoughts, and I want to feel all the great aspirations ofher soul--I want her companionship--I want her sympathy--I want herunderstanding. 

When I was in love with Nina--and five or six others--I never thought ofany of these things--I just wanted their bodies: Therefore it is onlywhen the spiritual enters into the damned thing, I suppose, that onecould call it love. By that reasoning I have loved only Alathea in allmy life. But I am stumped with this thought--If she had one eye and noleg below the knee--should I be in love with her? and feel all theseexalted emotions about her? I cannot honestly be certain how I wouldanswer that question yet, so this shows that the physical plays thechief rôle even in a love that seems spiritual. 

Matho--in Flaubert's Salammbô was beaten to a jelly but his eyes stillflamed with love for his princess--But when she saw him as thisrevolting mass, did her love flame for him? Or was she exalted only bythe incense to her vanity--and a pity for his sufferings? Heloise andAbelard were pretty wonderful in their love, but his love becametransmuted much sooner than hers, because all physical emotions weregone from him. Plato's idea that man gravitates towards beauty for somesubconscious soul desire to re-create himself through perfection, and soattain immortality, is probably the truth. And that is why we shrinkfrom mutilated bodies--. Until I can be quite sure that I should loveAlathea just the same were she disfigured as I am--I cannot in justiceexpect her to return my passion--. 

Nina became re-attracted (if I can coin that word)--because I was out ofreach. The predatory instinct in woman had received a rebuff, anddemanded renewed advance. --She still keeps a picture in some part ofher mental vision of what I was too, therefore, I am not so revoltingto her--but Alathea has not this advantage, and has seen me onlywounded. 

I have done nothing to earn her respect--She has apprehended my uselesslife in these last months--She has heard the chattering of mycompanions, whom I have been free to choose--the obvious deduction beingthat these are what I desire--And finally, she knows that I have had amistress. --In heaven's name _why_ should she be anything but what she isin her manner to me!--Of course she despises me. So that the only thingI could possibly allure her by would be that intangible something whichNina and Suzette and even Coralie--have inferred that Ipossess--"It"!!--. And how would that translate itself to a mind likeAlathea's?--It might mean nothing to her--It probably would not. Theonly times I have ever seen any feeling at all in her for me were whenshe thought she had destroyed a wounded man's interest in a harmlesshobby--and felt remorse--And the freezing reserve which showed when shehanded me the cheque-book--and the perturbation and contempt when I wasrude about the child. --At other times she has shown a blankindifference--or a momentary consciousness that there was admiration inmy eye for her. 

Now what do I get out of the iciness over Suzette's cheque?

Two possibilities--. 

One--that she is more prudish than one of her literary cultivation, andworldly knowledge is likely to be, so that she strongly disapproves ofa man having a "_petite amie_"--or--

Two--that she has sensed that I love her and was affronted at thediscovery that at the same time I had a--friend?--

The second possibility gives me hope, and so I fear to entertain abelief in it--but taken coldly it seems the most likely. --Now if she had_not_ been affronted at this stage, would she have gone on believing Iloved her, and so eventually have shown some reciprocity?

It is just possible--. 

And as it is, will that same instinct which is in the subconscious mindof all women--and men too for the matter of that--which makes them wantto fight to retain or retake what was theirs, influence her nowunconsciously to feel some, even contemptuous, interest in me? This alsois possible--. 

If only fate brings her to me again--. That is where one is done--whenabsence cuts threads. 

To-morrow it will be Monday--a whole week since I received her telegram. 

I shall go up to Paris in the morning if I hear nothing and go myself tothe Hotel de Courville to try and obtain a trace of her--if that isimpossible I will write to the Duchesse. --

 * * * * *

_Reservoirs--Night:_

As I wrote the last words--a note was brought to me by Burton--someonehad left at the Hotel. 

 "Dear Sir Nicholas--(it ran)

 I am very sorry I have been unable to come out to do my work--but my brother died last Tuesday, and I have been extremely occupied--I will be at Versailles at eleven on Thursday as usual. 

 Yours truly, A. Sharp. "

 * * * * *

Her firm writing, more like a man's than a woman's looked a little shakyat the end--Was she crying perhaps when she wrote the letter--the poorlittle girl--What will the death mean to her eventually? Will thenecessity to work be lessened?

But even the gravity of the news did not prevent a feeling of joy andrelief in me--I would see her again--Only four days to wait!

But what a strange note!--not any exhibition of feeling! she would notshare even that natural emotion of grief with me. Her work is business, and a well bred person ought not to mix anything personal into it. --Howwill she be--? Colder than ever? or will it have softened her--. 

She will probably be more unbending to Burton than to me. 

The weather has changed suddenly, the wind is sighing, and I know thatthe summer is over--I shall have the sitting-room fire lighted andeverything as comfortable as I can when she does turn up, and I shallhave to stay here until then since I cannot communicate with her in anyway. This ridiculous obscurity as to her address must be cleared away. I must try to ask her casually, so as not to offend her. 

 * * * * *

A week has passed--. 

Alathea came on Thursday--I was sickeningly nervous on Thursday morning. I resented it extremely. As yet the only advance I have made is that Ican control most of the outward demonstrations of my perturbations, butnot the sensations themselves. I was sitting in my chair quite stillwhen the door opened, and in she came--Just the scrap of a creature indead black. Although there was no crepe, one could see that the garmentswere French trappings of woe, that is, she had a veil hanging from hersimple small hat. I felt that she had had to buy these things for thefuneral, and probably could not afford a second set of more dowdy onesfor her working clothes, so that there was that indescribable air ofelegance about her appearance which had shown in the _Bois_ that Sunday. The black was supremely becoming to her transparent white skin, andseemed to set off the bright bronze brown of her hair--the rebelliouslittle curls had slipped out beside her ears, but the yellow hornspectacles were as uncompromising as ever--I could not see whether hereyes were sad or no--her mouth was firm as usual. 

"I want to tell you of my sympathy, " I said immediately--"I was so sorrynot to know your address that I might have expressed it to you before--Iwould have wished to send you some flowers. "

"Thank you, " was all she answered--but her voice trembled a little. 

"It was so stupid of me not to have asked you for your addressbefore--you must have thought it was so careless and unsympathetic. "

"Oh! no"--. 

"Won't you give it to me now that I may know in the future?"

"We are going to move--It would be useless--it is not decided where wego yet. "

I knew I dared not insist. 

"Is there some place where I could be certain of a message reaching youthen? because I would have asked you to come to the flat to-day and notout here if I could have found you. "

She was silent for a moment. I could see she was in a corner--I felt anawful brute but I had said it all quite naturally as any employer wouldwho was quite unaware that there could be any reluctance to give theinformation, and I felt it was better to continue in this strain not torender her suspicious. 

After a second or two she gave the number of a stationer's shop in theAvenue Mosart--. 

"I pass there every day, " she said. 

I thanked her--. 

"I hope you did not hurry back to your work--I can't bear to think thatperhaps you would have wished to remain at home now. "

"No, it does not matter"--There was an infinite weariness in hertone--A hopeless flatness I had never heard before, it moved me so thatI blurted out--. 

"Oh! I have felt so anxious, and so sorry--I saw you in the _Bois_ twoSundays ago in the thunder storm, and I tried to get near the path Ithought you would cross to offer you the carriage to return in, but Imissed you--Perhaps your little brother caught cold then?"

There was a sob in her voice--. 

"Yes--will you--would you mind if we just did not speak of anything butbegan work. "

"Forgive me--I only want you to know that I'm so awfully sorry--and Oh, if there was anything in the world I could do for you--would you not letme?"

"I appreciate your wish--it is kind of you--but there is nothing--Youwere going to begin the last chapter over again--Here is the old one--Iwill take off my hat while you look at it, " and she handed it to me. 

Of course I could not say anything more--I had had a big bunch ofviolets put on the table where she types, in Burton's roomadoining--they were the first forced ones which could be got inParis--and I had slipped a card by them with just "my sympathy" on it. 

When she came back into the room hatless, her cheeks were bright pinkbelow the glasses--and all she said was "Thank you" and then I saw alittle streak of wet trickle from under the horn rims. I have never hadsuch a temptation in my life--to stretch out my arms and cry "Darlingone, let me comfort you, here clasped close to me!"--I longed to touchher--to express somehow that I felt profoundly for her grief. --

"Miss Sharp--" I did burst out--"I am not saying anything because I knowyou don't want me to--but it is not because I do notfeel--I'm--I'm--awfully sorry--May not I perhaps send some rosesto--your home--or, perhaps there is someone there who would likethem--flowers are such jolly things!"--Then I felt the awfully illchosen word "jolly" was--but I could not alter it. 

I believe that _gaucherie_ on my part helped though a little, her finesenses understood it was because I was so nervously anxious to offercomfort--a much kinder note came into her voice--. 

"I'll take the violets with me if you will let me, " she said--"Pleasedon't trouble about anything more--and do let us begin work. "

So we started upon the Chapter. 

Her hands were not so red I noticed. I am becoming sensitive to what iscalled "atmosphere" I suppose, for I felt all the currents in the roomwere disturbed--that ambience of serenity did not surround Alathea andkeep me unconsciously in awe of her as it always has before--I was awarethat my natural emotions were running riot and that my one eye wasgazing at her with love in it, and that my imagination was conjuring upscenes of delight with her as a companion. Her want of complete controlallowed the waves to reach her, I expect--for I knew that she was usingall her will to keep her attention upon the work, and that she wasnearly as disturbed as I was myself--. 

But how was she disturbed?--was she just nervous from events--or was Icausing her any personal trouble? The moment I felt that perhaps I was, a feeling of assurance and triumph came over me--! Then I used every bitof the cunning I possess--I tried to say subtle things--I made her talkabout the ridiculous book, and the utterly unimportant furniture--I madeher express her opinion about styles, and got out of her that a simpleQueen Anne was what she herself preferred. --I _knew_ that she was givingway and talking with less stiffness because she was weak with sorrow, and probably had not had much sleep--I _knew_ that it was not becauseshe had forgotten about the Suzette cheque or really was more friendly. I _knew_ that I was taking an unfair advantage of her--but Icontinued--Men are really brutes after all!--and gloried in my powerevery time the slightest indication showed that I possessed it! I lostsome of my diffidence--If I could only have stood upon two feet and seenwith two eyes--I know that even the morning would have ended by mytaking her in my arms, cost what might; but as I was glued to my chairshe was enabled always at this stage to stay out of reach--and fencedgallantly with me by silence and stiff answers--but by luncheon timethere was a distinct gain on my side--I had made her feel something, Ino longer was a nonentity who did not count--. 

Her skin is so transparent that the colour fluctuates with everyemotion. I love to watch it. What a mercy that I had very strongsight!--for my one eye sees quite clearly. 

At luncheon we talked of the time of the Fronde--Alathea is sowonderfully well read. I make dashes into all sorts of subjects, andfind she knows more of them than I do myself--What a mind she must haveto have acquired all this in her short twenty-three years. 

"You are not thinking of leaving Paris, I hope when you move, " I said aswe drank coffee. "I am going to begin another book directly this one isfinished. "

"It is not yet decided, " she answered abruptly. 

"I could not write without you. "

Silence. 

"I would love to think that you took an interest in teaching me how tobe an author--. "

The faintest shrug of the shoulders--. 

"You don't take any interest?"

"No. "

"Are not you very unkind?"--

"No--If you have anything to complain of in my work I will listenattentively and try and alter it. "

"You will never allow the slightest friendship?"

"No. "

"Why?"

"Why should I?"

"I must be grateful even that you ask a question, I suppose--Well, Idon't know quite myself why you should--You think I am a rotter--Youdespise my character--you think my life is wasted and that--er--I haveundesirable friends. "

Silence. 

"Miss Sharp! you drive me crazy never answering--I can't think why youlike to be so provoking!" I was stung to exasperation. 

"Sir Nicholas, " and she put down her cup with displeasure--"If you willnot keep to the subject of work--I am sorry but I cannot stay as yoursecretary. "

Terror seized me--. 

"I shall have to if you insist upon it--I suppose--but I am longing tobe friends with you--and I can't think why you should resent it so--Weare both English, we are both--unhappy--we are both lonely--. "

Silence!--

"Somehow I don't feel it is altogether because I am a revolting objectto look at that you are so unkind--you must have seen lots like me sincethe war--. "

"I am not unkind--I think you are--May I go to my work now?"

We rose from the table--And for a second she was so near to me the pentup desire of weeks mastered me and the tantalization of the morningovercame me so that a frantic temptation seized me--I _could not_ resistit--I put out one arm while I steadied myself with the other by the backof a chair, and I drew her tiny body towards me, and pressed my lips toher Cupid's bow of a mouth--And Oh God the pleasure of it--right orwrong!

She went dead white when I released her, she trembled, and in her turnheld on to the back of the chair--. 

"How dare you!" she panted--"How dare you!--I will go this minute--Youare not a gentleman. "

The reaction came to me--. 

"That is it, I suppose--" I said hoarsely--"I am not a gentlemanunderneath--the civilization is mere veneer--and the _man_ breaksthrough it--I have nothing to say--I was mad, that is all. You will haveto weigh up as to whether it is worth your while to stay with me or not. I cannot judge of that. I can only assure you that I will try not to erragain--perhaps some day you will know how you have been making me sufferlately--I shall go to my room now, and you can let me have your decisionin an hour or so--. "

I could not move because my crutch had fallen to the floor out of myreach--She stood in indecision for a moment and then she bent and pickedit up and gave it to me. She was still as white as a ghost. As I got tothe door I turned and said--. 

"I apologize for having lost my self-control--I am ashamed of that--anddo not ask you to forgive me--Your staying or not is a businessarrangement. I give you my word I will try never to be so weak again. "

She was gazing at me--For once I had taken the wind out of her sails--. 

Then I bowed and hobbled on into my bedroom, shutting the door after me. 

Here my courage deserted me. I got to the bed with difficulty and threwmyself down upon it and lay there, too filled with emotion to stir. Thethought tormenting me always. Have I burnt my boats--or is this only thebeginning of a new stage?

Time will tell. 

XIV

I lay and wondered and wondered what were Alathea's emotions after Ileft her. Should I ever know? When the hour was up I went back into thesitting-room. I had struggled against the awful depression which wasovercoming me. I suppose every man has committed some action he is sorryand ashamed of, forced thereto by some emotion, either of anger ordesire, which has been too strong for his will to control--. This is theway murders must often have been committed, and other crimes--I had notthe slightest intention of behaving like a cad--or of doing anythingwhich I knew would probably part us forever. --If my insult had beendeliberate or planned, I would have held her longer, and knowing I wasgoing to lose her by my action, I would have profited by it. As I lay onmy bed in great pain from the wrench in getting there alone--I tried toanalyse things. The nervous excitement in which she always plunges memust have come to the culminating point. The only thing I was glad aboutwas that I had not attempted to ask forgiveness, or to palliate myconduct. If I had done so she would undoubtedly have walked straight outof the hotel--but having just had the sense to leave her to think for awhile--perhaps--?

Well--I was sitting in my chair--feeling some kind of numbanguish--which I suppose those going to be hanged experience, whenBurton brought in my tea--and I heard no sound of clicking next door--Iasked him as naturally as I could if Miss Sharp had gone--. 

"Yes, Sir Nicholas, " he answered, and the shock, even though it wasexpected, was so great that for a second I closed my eye. 

She had left a note, he further added, --putting the envelope down on thetable beside the tray--. 

I made myself light a cigarette and not open it, and I made myself saycasually--

"I am afraid she feels her brother's death dreadfully, Burton!"

"The poor young lady, Sir Nicholas!--She must have kept up brave likeall the time this morning, and then after lunch when I come in--whileyou were resting, Sir--it got too much for her, I expect, sittin'alone--for she was sobbin' like to break her heart--as I opened thedoor. She looked that forlorn and huddled up--give you my word, SirNicholas--I was near blubberin' myself. "

"I am so awfully sorry--What did you do, Burton?"

"I said, '--Let me bring you a nice cup of tea, Miss. '--It is alwaysbest to bring ladies tea when they are upset, Sir Nicholas, as you mayknow--She thanked me sweet like, as she always does--and I made so boldas to say how sorry I was, and I did hope she had not had any extratrouble to deal with over it; and how I'd be so glad to advance her hernext week's salary if it would be any convenience to her--knowingfunerals and doctors is expensive--Out of my own money of course I gaveher to understand--because I knew she'd be bound to refuse yours, SirNicholas. 

"--At that her tears burst out afresh--She had no glasses on, and shelooked no more than sixteen years old, give you my word Sir--She thankedme like as if it was something real kind I'd thought of--I felt sort ofashamed I could not do more--

"Then she seemed to be having a struggle with herself--just as if she'drather die than take anything from anybody--and yet knew she had to--Sheturned them, blue eyes on me streamin' with tears, and I had to turnaway, Sir Nicholas--I had really. --

"'Burton, ' she says--. 'Have you ever felt that you wanted to be deadand done with it all--that you couldn't fight any more?'

--"'I can't say as I have, Miss, ' I answered her--'but I know my masterfeels that way often--' Perhaps she felt kinder, sorry for you too, SirNicholas, because as I said that, she gave a sort of extra sharp sob andburied her face in her hands--. 

"I slipped out of the room then and brought the tea as quick as I couldyou may believe me Sir--and by that time she had pulled herselftogether--'It is stupid to have any proud feelings--if you have to workBurton' she said--'I will be--grateful for the loan of your money--and Iam happy to have such a friend' . .. And she put out her little bit of ahand--She did, Sir Nicholas--and I never felt so proud in my life--She'sjust a real lady to her finger tips. She is, Sir--I shook it as gentleas I could, and then was obliged to blow my nose, I felt thatblubberish--I left the room at once, and when I come back for the tray, and to bring the money she had her hat on, and the note written for youSir--I took the violets and began putting them in the box for her totake--but she stopped me--. 

"'Violets fade so soon--I will not take them, thanks, ' she said--'I haveto do some shopping before I go home and I could not carry them. ' But Iknew it was not that. --She did not want to take them--perhaps she feltshe'd given up enough of her pride to take my money--for one day--So Isaid nothing, --but that I did hope she would be feeling better by thetime she came to the _appartement_ on Saturday. She did not speak, shejust nodded her head and smiled kind like at me and went. "

I could not answer Burton--I too just nodded my head--and the dear oldboy left me alone--My very heart seemed bursting with pain andremorse--When he had gone--I seized the letter and opened it. 

 * * * * *

 "To Sir Nicholas Thormonde, Bart, V. C. , " (it began, and then)

 "Dear Sir:

 Circumstances force me to work--so I shall have to remain in your service--if you require me. I am unfortunately quite defenceless, so I appeal to whatever chivalry there is in you not to make it so impossible that I must again give in my resignation. 

 Yours faithfully, A. Sharp. "

 * * * * *

I fell back in my chair in an agony of emotion--My darling! Myqueen!--whose very footprints I worship--to have had to write such aletter--to me!

The unspeakable brute beast I felt! All my cynical calculations aboutwomen fell from me--I saw myself as I had been all day--utterlyselfish--not really feeling for her grief, only making capital out of itfor my own benefit--. At that moment, and for the rest of the day andnight, I suffered every shade of self reproach and abasement a man canfeel. And next day I had to stay in bed because I had done some stupidthing to my leg in lying down without help. 

When I knew I could not get into Paris by Saturday when Alathea was tocome to the flat--I sent Burton in with a note to the shop in the AvenueMosart. 

 "Dear Miss Sharp--(I wrote)

 "I am deeply grateful for your magnanimity. I am utterly ashamed of my weakness--and you will not have called upon my chivalry in vain, I promise you. --I have to stay in bed, so I cannot be at the flat, and if you receive this in time I shall be obliged if you will come out here again on Saturday. 

 Yours very truly, Nicholas Thormonde. "

Then I never slept all night with thoughts of longing and wondering ifshe would get it soon enough to come. 

Over and over in my vision I saw the picture of her sitting there inBurton's room sobbing--My action was the last straw--My shamefulaction!--Burton showed the good taste and the sympathy and understandingfor her which I should have done--. And to think that she is troubledabout money, so that she had to take a loan from my dear oldservitor--far greater gentleman than I am--. And that I cannot be theleast use to her--and may not help her in any way! I can go on no longerin this anguish--as soon as I feel that peace is in the smallest measurerestored between us--I will ask her to marry me, just so that I can giveher everything. I shall tell her that I expect nothing from her--onlythe right to help her family and give her prosperity and peace--. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday:_

I was still in bed on Saturday morning at eleven--the Doctor came out tosee me very early and insisted that I be kept quite still untilMonday--So Burton had my bed table brought, and all my papers andthings--There had come a number of letters to answer, and he had askedme if Miss Sharp could not do them as soon as she arrived. 

"Burton, perhaps she'll feel not quite at ease with me alone in herelike this. Could you not make some excuse to be tidying drawers andstay while I am dictating, " I said. 

"Very good, Sir Nicholas. "

When he replies with those words I know that he is agreeing--withreservations--. 

"Out with what you are thinking, Burton. "

"Well, Sir Nicholas"--and he coughed--"Miss Sharp--is that understandin'sh'd know in a minute your things wasn't likely to be in a mess, andthat you'd got me there on purpose--It might make her awkward like--. "

"You may be right, we will see how things turn out. "

Presently I heard Alathea in the sitting-room and Burton went in to seeher. 

"Sir Nicholas is very poorly to-day, Miss"--I heard him say--"The Doctorwon't let him out of bed--I wonder if you'd be so kind as to take downhis letters--they are too much for him himself not being able to situp--and I have not the time. "

"Of course I will, Burton, " her soft voice answered. 

"I've put the table and everything ready--and I thank you kindly--"Burton went on--"I am glad to see you looking better, Miss. "

I listened intently--It seemed as if I could hear her taking off herhat--and then she came into the room to me--but by that time my heartwas beating so that I could not speak loud. 

I said "good morning" in some half voice, and she answered thesame--then she came forward to the table. Her dear little face was verypale and there was something pathetic in the droop of her lips--herhands, I noticed, were again not so red--. 

"All the letters are there"--and I pointed to the pile--"It will be sogood of you if you will do them now. "

She took each one up and handed it to me without speaking and I dictatedthe answer. --I had had one from Suzette that morning thanking me for thevilla--but I was clearly under the impression that I had put it with theone from Maurice and one from Daisy Ryven at the other side of the bed, so I had no anxiety about it--Then suddenly I saw Alathea's cheeks flamecrimson and her mouth shut with a snap--and I realized that the irony offate had fallen upon me again, and that she had picked up Suzette'slavender tinted, highly scented missive. She handed it to me without aword--. 

The letter ended:

 "_Adieu Nicholas! tu es, Toujours Mon Adoré Ta Suzette. _"

but the way it was folded only showed "_Toujours Mon Adoré--TaSuzette_"--and this much Alathea had certainly seen--. 

I felt as if there was some evil imp laughing in the room--There wasnothing to be said or done. I could not curse aloud--so I simply tookthe letter, put it with Daisy Ryven's--and indicated that I was waitingfor the next one to be handed to me--So Alathea continued her work. --Butcould anything be more maddening--more damnably provoking!--andinopportune--Why must the shadow of Suzette fall upon me all the time?--

This of course will make any renewal of even the coldest friendlinessimpossible, between my little girl and me--. I cannot ask her to marryme now, and perhaps not for a long time, if ever the chance comes to meagain, in any case. Her attitude, carriage of head, and expression ofmouth, showed contempt, as she finished the short-hand notes. And thenshe rose and went into the other room to type, closing the door afterher. 

And I lay there shivering with rage and chagrin. 

I saw no more of Alathea that morning--She had her lunch in thesitting-room alone, and Burton brought the dishes in to me, and afterluncheon he insisted that I should sleep for an hour until half-past twoo'clock. He had some accounts for Miss Sharp to do, he said. 

I was so exhausted that when I did fall asleep I slept until nearlyfour--and awoke with a start and an agony of apprehension that she mighthave gone--but no--Burton said she was still there when I rang forhim--and I asked her to come in again--. 

We went over one of the earlier chapters in the book and I made somealterations in it; she never showed the slightest interest, nor did shespeak--; she merely took down what I told her to--. 

"Do you think that will do now?" I asked when it was complete. 

"Yes. "

Tea came in then for us both. --She poured it out, still without utteringa word--she remembered my taste of no sugar or milk, and put the cupnear me so that I could reach it. She handed me the plate of those nastymake-believe biscuits, which is all we can get now--then she drank herown tea. 

The atmosphere had grown so tense it was supremely uncomfortable. I feltthat I must break the ice. 

"How I wish there was a piano here, " I remarked _à propos_ ofnothing--and of course she greeted this, with her usual silence. 

"I am feeling so rotten if I could hear some music it would make mebetter. "

She made the faintest movement with her head, to show me I suppose thatshe was listening respectfully, but saw no occasion to reply. 

I felt so unspeakably wretched and helpless and useless lying there, Ihad not the pluck to go on trying to talk, so I closed my eye and laystill, and then I heard Alathea rise and softly go towards the door--. 

"I will type this at home--and return it to the flat on Tuesday if thatwill be all right, " she said--and: I answered:

"Thank you" and turned my face to the wall--And after a little, when shehad gone, Burton came in and gave me the medicine the Doctor had toldhim to give me, he said--but I have a strong suspicion it was simplyasperine, for then I fell into a dreamy sleep and forgot my aching bodyand my troubled mind. 

And now I am much better in health again--and am back in Paris andto-night Maurice, up from Deauville at last, is coming to dine with me. 

But what is the good of it all?

XV

I was awfully glad to see old Maurice again--he was looking brown andless dilettante--though his socks and tie and eyes matched as well asever! He congratulated me on the improvement in health in myself too, and then he gave me all the news--. 

Odette has been "painting the lily, " and used some new skin tightenerwhich has disfigured her for the moment, and she has retired to thefamily place near Bordeaux to weep until her complexion is restoredagain--. 

"Very unfortunate for her, " Maurice said--"because she had nearlysecured a roving English peer who had enjoyed 'cushy' jobs during thewar, and had been recruiting from the fatigues of red-taping atDeauville--and now, with this whisper of a spoiled skin, he hadtransferred his attentions to Coralie--and there was trouble among thegraces!"--Alice's plaintiveness had actually caught a very rich neutralwho was forwarding philanthropic schemes for great ladies--and she hopedsoon to wed. 

Coralie seemed in the most secure and happy case, since she is alreadyestablished, and can enjoy herself without anxiety. --Maurice hinted thatbut for her _béguin_ for me, she could land the English peer, anddivorce poor René--her docile war husband--and become an EnglishCountess!

"Thou hast upset everything, Nicholas. Duquesnois is desolated--Coraliechanged directly she saw you here--he says--and then to divert herselfand forget you, took Lord Brockelbank from Odette!"

"_Vieux coquin! Va!_" and Maurice patted me on the back--. 

They were enchanted with my presents to them lately, he added, and wereall longing to return to Paris soon and thank me. 

The war was simply growing into a nuisance and the quicker it was overthe better for everyone. (!)

Then he beat about the bush for a little longer and at last began togrow nearer the vital subject!--

He had seen some of my Mont Aubin relations--fortunately for me, theyhave been far from Paris in this last year--and they had anxiously askedhim if I thought of, marrying?--What in fact _was_ I doing with myselfnow that my wounds were healing?

I laughed--. 

"I am so glad my mother was an only child and they are none of them nearenough to have the right to bore me--they had better continue their goodworks at Biarritz--I am told my cousin Marguerite's convalescent home isa marvel! I have sent her frequent donations. "

Then Maurice plunged in--. 

"You are not--becoming entangled in any way with your secretary, are you_Mon ami_?" he asked. 

I had decided beforehand that I would not get angry at anything hesaid--so I was ready for this. 

"No, Maurice--" and I poured out a second glass of port for him--Burtonhad left us alone by now--. "Miss Sharp does not know that I exist--sheis simply here to do her work, and is the best secretary any man couldwant--I knew Coralie would infect you with some silly idea. "

Maurice sipped his port. --"Coralie said that in spite of the girl'sglasses there was some air of distinction about her--as she walkedon--and that she _knew_ and _felt_ you were interested. "

I remained undisturbed. 

"I am, immensely interested--I want to know who she really is. She is alady--even a lady of our world. --I mean she knows about things inEngland--where she has never been--that she could not possibly knowunless her family had spoken of them always. She has that unconsciousair of familiarity and ease with subjects which would surprise you. Can't you find anything out for me, old boy, as to who she is?"

"I will certainly try--Sharp?--it is not a name of the greatworld--no--?"

"Of course that is not her real name--"

"Why not ask her yourself, _Mon brave_!"

"I'd like to find a man with pluck enough to ask her anything she didnot wish him to!"

"That little girl!--but she appeared meek and plain, and respectable, Nicholas--You intrigue me!"

"Well, put your wits to work Maurice, and promise me you will not talkto the others about anything. I shall be very angry if you do. "

He gave me every assurance he would be silent as the grave--and then hechanged the topic to that of Suzette--He was sorry I had given her hercongé, because I would find it hard to replace her--Those so honest andreally not too rapacious, were very difficult to find--Since he hadheard that Suzette was no longer my little friend, he had been lookingout for me, but as yet had seen nothing suitable!!

"You need not trouble, Maurice, " I told him, "I am absolutely finishedwith that part of my life--I loathe the whole idea of it now--. "

Maurice inspected me with grave concern--. 

"My dear chap--this appears serious--You are not _in love_ with yoursecretary are you?--or is it possible that you are bluffing, and thatshe has replaced Suzette, and you wish tranquility about the subject?"

I felt a hot flush mounting to my forehead--The very thought of myadored little girl in the category of Suzette!--I could have struck myold friend--but I had just sense enough to reason things. Maurice wasonly speaking as any of the Paris world would speak. A secretary, whom aman was obviously interested in, was certainly not out of the runningfor the post of "_Maitresse-en-titre!_"

He meant no personal disrespect to Alathea. For him women were either ofthe world or they were not!--True, there was an intermediate class "_Lesbraves gens_"--_Bourgeoises_--servants, typists, etc. , etc. --But onecould only be interested in one of these for one reason. That is howthings appeared to Maurice. I knew his views; perhaps I had shared themin some measure in my unregenerate days. 

"Look here Maurice--I want you to understand--that Miss Sharp is a ladyin every way--I have already told you this but you don't seem to havegrasped it--and that she has my greatest respect--and it makes me sickto think of anyone talking of her as you have just done. Although I knowyou did not mean anything low, you old owl!--She treats me as though Iwere a tiresome, elderly employer--whom she must give obedience to, butis not obliged to converse with. She would not permit the slightestfriendship or familiarity from any man she worked for. "

"Your interest is then serious, Nicholas?"

Maurice was absolutely aghast!

"My _respect_ is serious--my curiosity is hot--and I wantinformation. "----

Maurice tried to feel relieved--. 

"Supposing financial disaster fell upon your family, old boy--would youconsider your sister less of a lady because she had to earn bread foryou all by being a typist!"

"Of course not--but it would be very dreadful!--Marie!--Oh! I could notthink of it!"

"Then try to get the idea into your thick head that Miss Sharp isMarie--and behave accordingly--That is how I look at her. "

Maurice promised that he would, and our talk turned to the Duchesse--hehad seen her at a cross country station as he came up, and she would beback in Paris the following week--This thought gave me comfort. Everyonewould be back by the fifteenth of October he assured me, and then wecould all amuse ourselves again--. 

"You will be quite well enough to dine out, Nicholas--Or if not you mustmove to the Ritz with me, so that you at least have entertainment on thespot, _Mon cher_!"

We spoke then of the book--Furniture was a really refined andinteresting subject for me to be delving into. Maurice longed to readthe proofs, he averred. 

When he had left me, I lay back in my chair and asked myself what hadhappened to me?--that Maurice and all that lot seemed such miles andmiles away from me--as miles and miles as they would have seemed intheir triviality, when we used to discuss important questions in "Pop"at Eton. 

How I must have sunk in the years which followed those dear old days, ever even to have found divertisement among the people like Maurice andthe fluffies. Surely even a one-eyed and one-legged man ought to be ableto do something for his country politically, it suddenly seemed tome--and what a glorious picture to gaze at!--If I could some day go intoParliament, and have Alathea beside me, to give me inspiration and helpme to the best in myself. How her poise would tell in English politicalsociety! How her brain and her power of exercising her criticalfaculties! Apart from the fact that I love every inch of her wisp of abody--What an asset that mind would be to any man!--And I dreamed anddreamed in the firelight--things all filled with sentiment andexaltation, which of course no fellow could ever say aloud, or letanyone know of--A journal is certainly an immense comfort, and I do notbelieve I could have gone through this hideous year of my life withoutit. 

How I would love to have Alathea for my wife--and have children--Itcan't be possible that I have written that! I loathe children in theabstract--they bore me to death--Even Solonge de Clerté's twoentertaining angels--but to have a son--with Alathea's eyes----God! howthe thought makes me feel!--How I would like to sit and talk with her ofhow we should bring him up--I reached out my hand and picked up a volumeof Charles Lamb and read "Dream Children"--and as I finished I felt thatidiotic choky sensation which I have only begun to know since somethingin me has been awakened by Alathea--or since my nerves have been on therack--I don't remember ever feeling much touched, or weak, or silly, before the war--. 

And now what have I to face--?

A will, stronger, or as strong as my own--A prejudice of the deepestwhich I cannot explain away--A knowledge that I have no power to retainthe thing I love--No guerdon to hold out to her mentally orphysically--Nothing but the material thing of money--which because ofher great unselfishness and desire to benefit her loved ones, she mightbe forced to consider. My only possibility of obtaining her at all is tobuy her with money. And when once bought, --when I had her here in myhouse, --would I have the strength to resist the temptation to takeadvantage of the situation?--Could I go on day after day never touchingher, --never having any joys?--until the greatness of my love somehowmelted her dislike and contempt of me--?

I wish to God I knew. 

She will never marry me unless I give my word of honour that the thingwill only be an empty ceremony--of that I feel sure even ifcircumstances aid me to force her into doing this much. And then one hasto keep one's word of honour. And might not that be a greater hell thanI am now in of suffering?

Perhaps I had better go to the sea--like Suzette--and try to break thewhole chain and forget her--. 

I rang the bell for Burton then, and told him of my new plan, as he putme to bed. We would go off to St. Malo, --for a week, and I gave ordersthat he should make the necessary arrangements to get permits. To travelanywhere now is no end of a difficulty. 

I wrote to Alathea without weakening--I asked her to collect the Mss. And make notes of what she thought still should be altered--during myabsence--I wrote as stiffly, and in as business like a manner aspossible--and finally I went to sleep, and slept better than I have donefor some time. 

 * * * * *

_St. Malo:_

How quaint these places are! I am at this deserted corner by thesea--where the hotel is comfortable, and hardly touched by the war--I amnot happy--the air is doing me good, that is all--I have broughtbooks--I am not trying to write--I just read and endeavor to sleep--andthe hours pass. I tell myself continually that I am no more interestedin Alathea--that I am going to get well, and go back to England--that Ihave emerged, and am a man with a free will once more--and I am a greatdeal better--. 

After all, how absurd to be thinking of a woman, from morning to night!

When I get my new leg, and everything is all healed, up in a year ortwo, shall I be able to ride again?--Of course I shall, no doubt, andeven play a little tennis?--I can shoot anyway--if we will be allowed topreserve partridges and pheasants when the war is over in England. 

Yes, of course life is a gorgeous thing--I like the fierce wind to blowin my face--and yesterday, much to Burton's displeasure, I went outsailing--. 

How could I be such a fool, he inferred--as to chance a wrench puttingme back some months again--But one has to chance things occasionally. Inever enjoyed a sail more because of this very knowledge. 

 * * * * *

A week has passed since we came to this end of the earth--and again Ihave grown restless--perhaps it is because Burton came in just now witha letter in his hand--. I recognized immediately Alathea's writing. 

"I made so bold as to leave the young lady our address before we left, Sir Nicholas, in case she wanted to communicate with us, and she writesnow to say, would I be good enough to ask you if you took with youChapter Seven, because she cannot find it anywhere. "

Then he went on with evident constraint to tell me that the rest of theletter said that while she was working on Friday a "Mademoiselle laBlonde" called, and insisted upon passing Pierre who answered thedoor--and coming in to her--("It was Mam'zelle of course, Sir Nicholas!"Burton snapped!) And that she had demanded my address--but Miss Sharphad not felt she was justified in giving it to her--but had said letterswould be forwarded--. 

"I hope to goodness that the baggage made no scene with the young lady, Sir Nicholas, " Burton growled--"Of course she don't say in theletter--but it's more than likely--I would not have her insulted for theworld. "

"Nor I either, " I retorted angrily--"Suzette ought to know better nowthat I have given her everything she wanted--Will you let her understandplease that this must not occur again--. "

"I'll see that the lawyer does it, Sir--that is the only way to dealwith them persons--though Mam'zelle was the best of her sort. Seems tome Sir Nicholas, they are more bother than they are worth. I said italways, even when I was younger--They leave their trail of trouble whereever they go. "

How I agreed with him!

So here was a fresh barrier arisen between Alathea and myself!--a freshbarrier which I cannot explain away. The only comfort I get out of thewhole thing is that imperative necessity must have been driving mylittle darling--or she would not put up with any of these things for amoment, and would have given her _demission_ at the same time as shewrote. 

If money is so necessary to her--perhaps after all I could get herconsent to marry me--The very thought made my pulses bound again--andall my calm flew to the winds! All the sage reasoning which wasbeginning to have an effect upon me evaporated!--I knew that once more Iwas as utterly under the spell of her attraction, as the moment when mypassionate lips touched her soft reluctant ones--Ah! that thought! thatmemory--One I have never let myself indulge in--but now, all resistancebroken on every side, --I spent the rest of the day dreaming about thejoy of that kiss--until by night time I was as mad as a hatter, and morefull of cruel unrest than ever--. 

I hate this place--I hate the sea--It is all of no use--I shall go backto Paris. 

XVI

The first thing I learned when I reached the _appartement_ was that theDuchesse had returned, and wished to see me. This was good news--andwithout even telephoning to Maurice, I got into my one horse Victoriaand repaired to the Hotel de Courville--. 

The Duchesse was sitting in her boudoir upstairs when I got in. --She hada quaint expression upon her face. I was not certain that her greetingwas as cordial as usual--Has gossip reached her ears also?

I sat down near her and she took my crutch from me tenderly, herinstinct for "_blessés_" never failing her. 

I thought I would begin at once before she could say anything whichmight make questioning her impossible. 

"I have been longing to see you, Duchesse, to ask you if you could helpme to find out who my secretary, Miss Sharp, is?--because I saw her herein the passage one day, and I thought you might possibly be able toidentify her--. "

"_Tiens?_"

"Her christian name is 'Alathea'--I heard her little sister call herthat once when I saw them and they did not see me, in the _Bois_--She isa lady--and I feel Sharp is not her name at all. "

The Duchesse put on her eyeglasses--. 

"She has not shown a sign that she wishes you to know her history?"

"No--"

"Then, my son, do you think it is very good taste to endeavor todiscover it?"

"Perhaps not--" I was nettled--I hated that the Duchesse should bedispleased with me, then I went on--"I fear that she is very poor and Iknow that her little brother died just lately, and I would give anythingin the world to help them in some way. "

"Sometimes one helps more by showing discretion. "

"You won't assist me then, Duchesse? I _feel_ that you know Miss Sharp. "

She frowned--. 

"Nicholas--if I did not love you really, I should be angry. --Am I thecharacter to betray friends--presuming that I have friends--for a youngman's curiosity?"

"Indeed it is not curiosity--it is because I want to help--. "

"Camouflage!"

I felt angry now. 

"You assume that your secretary is a _demoiselle du monde_"--she wenton--"if you have reached that far--you should know that there is somehonor, some _tenue_ left in old families, --and so you should treat herwith consideration, and respect her incognito. --All this is not likeyou, my son!"

The Duchesse had dropped the "thee and thou"--it hurt me. 

"I want to treat her with every respect--" I reiterated. 

"Then believe me it is unnecessary for you to know her name--I am notaltogether pleased with you, Nicholas. "

"Dear Duchesse! that grieves me--I wish I could explain--I have onlywanted to be kind--and I don't even know her address and could not sendflowers when her brother died. "

"They did not want flowers, perhaps--Take my advice--of the best I cangive--Pay your secretary her wages--as high ones as she will accept--andthen treat her as if she were fifty years old--and wore glasses!"

"She does wear glasses--abominable yellow horn rimmed spectacles!" Iannounced excitedly. --"Have you never seen them?"

The Duchesse's eyes flashed--. 

"I have not said I ever met Miss Sharp, Nicholas--"

I knew the affair was now hopeless--and that I would only risk the realdispleasure of my dear old friend if I continued in this way. So Isubsided. --I had some instinct too that I would not receive sympathyeven if I owned that my intentions were strictly honourable. 

"I will say no more--except that should you know these people _cherèDuchesse_--and you ever discover that I could help them in any way--thatyou will call upon me to any extent. "

[Illustration: The fiery vixen Suzette (Renee Adoree) is enraged tolearn of Sir Nicholas' (Lew Cody) attentions to other women, and leavesin a flurry. (A scene from Elinor Glyn's production "Man and Maid" forMetro-Goldwyn-Mayer)]

She looked at me very searchingly and said laconically. 

"_Bien. _"

Then we talked of other things, and I tried to reingratiate myself--Thewar was going better--Foch would wish to push his advantage. Things musthave some end--in the near future. --When was I going to England?--Allthese subjects we discussed. 

"When I am out of the hands of these doctors and have my new leg andeye--I will return, and then, I want to go into Parliament. "

The Duchesse warmed up at once. --That was just the thing for me todo--that and to marry some nice girl of my own world, of which theremust be an embarrassment of choice--with all the men killed in mycountry!

"I would want such an exceptional woman, Duchesse!"

"Do not look for the moon, my son--Be thankful if she has beensufficiently well brought up to have a decent conduct--the manners ofthe young girls now revolt me. --I try to go with the times----but thesenew fashions are disgusting. "

"Do you think a woman ought to be perfectly innocent and ignorant oflife to make the marriage happy--" I asked. 

"The insides of the minds of young girls one is never sure of, but the_tenue_ should be correct at all costs, so that they may have somethingto uphold them as well as religion--which is no longer so surroundingas it used to be. "

"Duchesse, I want someone who would love me passionately, and whom Icould passionately love. "

"For that, my poor boy--" and she sighed--"it is not found among younggirls--these things come after one knows, and can discriminate--put themaside from your thoughts--they are temptations which one resists if onecan, and at all events makes no scandals about. --Love! _Mon Dieu_, it isthe song of the poets, it cannot happen in the world--withsatisfaction--It must be a pain always--Do your duty to your race, andyour class--and try not to mix up sentiment with it!"

"There is no hope of my finding someone I could really love, then?"

"I do not know--in your own country it may be--here it is the wife ofsomeone else who holds the charm--and if it were not for _tenue_ societycould not exist. 

"All that one must ask of the young is that they act with discretion, sothat they can reach the autumn of life without scandals against theirnames--If the _Bon Dieu_ adds love--then they have been indeedfortunate. "

"But Duchesse--with your great heart--have you never loved--?"

Her eyes seemed to grow beautiful and young again--they diffused afire--. 

"Loved--Nicholas--! All women love once in their lives--happy for themif it has not burnt their souls in its passage--Happy if the _Bon Dieu_has let it merge into love for humanity--" And soft tears dimmed thedark blue brilliancy. 

I leaned forward and kissed her hand with deep devotion--then theancient servitor came in and she was called to a ward--but I leftfeeling that if there is really some barrier of family between Alatheaand me--there would be no use in my appealing to the Duchesse--Sorrowsshe understands--and war and suffering--and self-sacrifice--Love sheunderstands and passion--and all that appertains thereto--but all thesethings go to the wall before the conception of the meaning of _noblesseoblige_ which ruled when Adelaide de Mont Orgeuil--wedded the Duc deCourville-Hautevine, in the eighties! The only thing left now was totelephone to Maurice--. 

He came in for a few minutes just before dinner--. 

He has questioned Alwood Chester of the American Red Cross, who had toldhim that Miss Sharp had been Miss Sharp always while she worked forthem, and that no one knew anything further about her. 

Well!--if her father is a convict, and her mother--in a mad house, andher sister consumptive--I still want her for herself--. 

Is that true--Could I face disease and insanity coming into my family--?

I don't know--All I know is that I do not believe whatever curse hangsover the rest it has touched her--She is the picture of health andbalance and truth--Her every action is noble--and I love her--I loveher--there!

Next day she came in at ten as usual--She brought all the chaptersannotated--. As her attitude towards me had been as cold as it waspossible for an attitude to be, I cannot say that there was any addedshade of contempt since her interview with Suzette--What had passedbetween them perhaps Burton will be able gradually to discover--. 

I controlled myself, and behaved with a businesslike reserve--She hadnothing to snub me for, or to disturb her--She took the papers at twelveo'clock--and I sighed as she left the room--I had watched her furtivelyfor nearly two hours--Her face was a mask--And she might indeed reallyhave been concentrating upon the work in hand. Her hands are whiteningconsiderably--. I believe their redness had something to do with herlittle brother, perhaps she put very hot things on his chest. --I havenever seen such a white skin--it shows like mother of pearl against thecheap black frock--The line of the throat is like my fascinating Nymphwith the shell--indeed the mouth is not unlike her's also. I wonder ifshe has dimp--but I had better not think of those things--!

I am now determined to ask her to marry me on the first occasion I canscrew up my courage sufficiently. I have decided what I am going to say. I am going to be quite matter of fact--I shan't tell her that I love hereven--I feel if I can secure her first I shall have a better chanceafterwards. If she thought I loved her, her nature is of that honestkind that she might think it was dishonorable to make so uneven abargain with me--but if she just thinks I want her for my secretary andto play to me--and even perhaps that there is some brute part which shedespises mixed up in my feeling for her--and which I would promise tokeep in check--she may feel that it is fair for her to take my name, andmy money, and give me nothing in return. 

After lunch, which we did not have together, George Harcourt came in, and diverted me until four o'clock. 

After we had discussed the war news for a long time he began as usualabout Violetta--. 

She was perfection!--She had fulfilled all he had ever asked of awoman--but--or rather in consequence of this--she had begun to bore him, while a new vixen with no heart and the brain of a rabbit--now drew himstrangely!

"And what are you going to do about it, my dear George?"

"Deceive her of course, Nicholas. It is a painful necessity that my kindheart forces me to perpetrate. "

He was smoking contemplatively. 

I laughed--. 

"You see, dear boy--one can't be brutal with the little darlings, sothat is the only course open to one, for their limited reasoning powerdoes not enable them to grasp that it is not one's fault at all when oneceases to care--the trouble lies with their own weakeningattraction. --So one has to go on bluffing until they themselves weary, or find out inadvertently that one's affection has been transferred!"

"Don't you think there are some to whom you could tell the truth?"

"I have not met any--if they do exist. "

"If I were a woman it would insult me far more for a man to think I wasso stupid that he could deceive me, than if he said frankly he no longercared. "

"Probably--but then women don't reason in that way--you might prove byevery law of logic that it was because they themselves had disillusionedyou, and that you had no control over the coming or going of youremotion--but at the end of your peroration they would still reproach youfor being a fickle brute, and believe themselves blameless, and sinnedagainst!"

"It is all very difficult!"--I sighed unconsciously--. 

--"Are you in some mess, my son?" George asked concernedly. --"In yourcase with Suzette, money can always smooth things--she has perhaps beenannoying?"

"I have entirely finished with Suzette--George, how a man pays for allhis follies--Have you, with all your affairs, ever got off scot free?"

George leaned back in his chair--his well cut face which expresses as arule a rather kindly whimsical cynicism grew stern--and his very voicealtered. 

"Nicholas--one has to pay one's shot every time--A man pays in money, orin jewels or in disgrace, or in regret and remorse--and he has tocalculate beforehand to what extent that which he desires is worth theprice which will become due--It is a brainless idiot who does notcalculate, or who laments when he has to stump up. I admit women are ofsupreme interest to me, and their companionship and affection--bought orotherwise--are necessary to my existence--So I resignedly discharged mydebt every time. "

"How will you pay it then about Violetta whom you say is an angel, andblameless?"

"I shall have some disgusting moments of discomfort and remorse--andfeel a moral Bluebeard--I shan't go scot free--. "

"And she--? That won't help her. "

"She will pay in tears for having been weak enough to love me--she willfeel the consolation of martyrdom--and soon forget me. "

"And you don't think one incurs some kind of hoodoo--in indulging inthese things--I am thinking of Suzette--her shadow--almost one would sayprojected by fate, is what is causing me trouble now, not any deliberateaction she is committing against me. "

"Part of the price, my boy! You can't steal anything, or do anythingagainst the law, be it of man or of morals or of the spirit--that youdon't have to pay for it--and there is no use in haggling beforehand orin squealing after. The thing is to learn early enough in life what isworth while and what you really want, before you lay up for yourselflimitations. "

"That is true--. "

"Now let us analyse what gains and losses you have had in the Suzettebusiness. Let us take the gains first--You had a jolly little companionduring some months of pain and weariness--She helped you over adifficult moment--You were not leading her astray. To be the friend ofwar-heroes was her _métier_--you paid her highly in solid cash--You areunder no obligation to her--. But the law has decreed that man must haveno illicit relations, so the force of that current, or belief, orwhatever it is, makes you pay some price for having broken thelaw--Accept it and get through with it--And if the price has been tooheavy decide not to incur such debts again. The whole bother occursbecause you don't look ahead, my boy! There was a case when I was ayoungster and just joined my Battalion of Guards which will illustratewhat I mean, of Bobby Bulteel, Hartelford's brother. --He cheated atcards--He was a kind of cousin of my mother's so the family felt thescandal awfully--He was kicked out of course, and utterly broke, andLady Hilda Marchant ran off with him, and left her husband. She adoredthe fellow who had every charm--Well that was not worth while--The oddsare too heavy for anyone ever to have the ghost of a chance to pullcheating off. He was simply a fool, you see. Take chances, but neverwhen the scales have gone beyond the angle of forty-five degrees!"--Thenhaving finished his cigar George rose in the best of tempers--. 

"You may take it from me Nicholas--it sounds old fashioned--but tobehave like a gentleman and always be ready to discharge yourobligations, are the best rules for life. ----Ta ta, dear boy--Shalllook in on you soon again--" and he went!

Of course his logic is unanswerable--So I had better accept the shadowof Suzette falling upon my relation with Alathea, and try to gain my endin spite of it--And what is my very end?

Not of course that I shall spend the rest of my life as Alathea'shusband-in-name-only, hungry and longing and miserable--but that aftersecuring her certain companionship I shall overcome her prejudices, conquer her aversion, and make her love me. --But to have the chance todo all this it is absolutely necessary that I shall be near heralways--So my idea of marriage is not so far-fetched after all!

And if she will accept me, someday, upon _any terms_--provided they donot mean separation--I shall believe that half the battle is won--I feelmore cheerful already!--How sound reasoning does one good, even if it isas baldly brutal as George's!

XVII

Burton gave forth some information this evening, as he was dressing mefor dinner. He had now discovered from Pierre how Suzette had behavedwhen she intruded upon Alathea. She had entered the room--"PassingPierre without so much as asking his leave, and he with his wooden legnot so nimble as might be!" She had gone to the writing table anddemanded my address. "An affair of business which must be attended to atonce, " she had announced. Pierre standing at the door had heard allthis. Burton added "He said that Mam'zelle was that scented and that gotup, of course Miss Sharp must have known what she was. "

Alathea apparently had answered with dignity, that she had received noorders to give any address, but that letters would be forwarded. 

"She took no more notice of Mam'zelle than if she was a chair, " Pierrehad told him--who, having his own troubles with women, was prepared tosee a conflict! Suzette became nonplussed, and losing her temper alittle told Alathea that she hoped she would get as much out of thesituation as she herself had done! Alathea continued writing as thoughshe had not heard, and then told her quite politely in French, that ifshe would kindly leave whatever letters were to be sent on, she wouldsee that they went that night, and had added:

"Now, I need not detain you longer. " Suzette became furious, andstamping, said she was "Mademoiselle la Blonde, " and had more rightthere than Alathea!

Pierre had here interfered, and catching hold of Suzette's arm, haddragged her from the room. 

I tingled with shame and wrath. That the person I respect most in theworld should have been exposed to such a scene--! Burton too washorrified--. 

I had the most awful sensation of discomfort--the very fact of having tohear of all this through servants was sufficiently disgusting, withoutthe events themselves being so degrading. 

What must Alathea think of me! And I cannot even allude to the subject. How wonderful her dignity has been that she has allowed no extracontempt to come into her manner. 

How shall I have the pluck to ask her to marry me? I mean to do soto-morrow when she comes. 

 * * * * *

_Saturday:_

I am going to write the events of these last days down without anycomment. 

I came in to the sitting-room after Alathea had arrived. She was writingat her desk in the little salon. I looked in and asked her if she wouldcome in and speak to me. Then I got to my chair. She entered obedientlywith the block in her hand, ready to begin work. 

"Will you sit down, please, " I said, indicating a chair, where she wouldface me and the light, so that no shade of her expression should be lostupon me. (I shall become quite an expert in reading mouths. I am obligedto study hers so closely!)

I felt less nervous than I have ever felt when with her. I thought therewas the faintest shade of alertness in her manner. 

"I am going to say something which will surprise you very much, MissSharp, " I began. 

She raised her head a little. 

"I will put the case to you quite baldly--I am very rich as you know--Iam still horrid to look at--I am lonely and I want a companion who wouldplay the piano to me, and who would help me to write books, and whowould travel with me. I cannot have any of these simple things becauseof the scandal people would make--so there is only one course open tome--that is to go through the marriage ceremony--Miss Sharp--under thoseterms will you marry me?"

Her attitude had become tense--her face did not flush, it became verypale. She remained perfectly silent for a moment. I felt just the sameas I used to do before going over the top--a queer kind of excitement--awonder if I'd come through or not. 

As she did not answer I went on. "I would not expect anything from youexcept a certain amount of your company. There would not be any questionof living with me as a wife--I would promise even to keep in check thatside which you once saw and which I was so sorry about. I would settlelots of money on you, and give anything to your family you might wish. Iwould not bother you, you would be quite free--only I would like you totake interest in my work in a way--and to play to me--even if you wouldnot talk to me. "

My voice broke a little at the end of this; I was conscious of it, andof how weak it was of me. Her hands clasped together suddenly--and sheappeared as though she was going to speak, then remained silent. 

"Won't you answer me at all?" I pleaded. 

"It is such a strange proposal--I would wish to refuse it at once----"

"It is quite bald, I know, " I interrupted quickly. "I want to buyyou--that is all--you can name the price. I know if you consented itwould merely be for the same reason which makes you work. I presume itis for your family, not for yourself; therefore, I am counting upon thatto influence you. Whatever you would want for your family I should bedelighted to give you. "

She twisted her locked hands--the first sign of real emotion I have seenin her. 

"You would marry me--without knowing anything about me? It is verystrange--. "

"Yes. I think you are extremely intelligent--if you would consent totalk to me sometimes. I want to go into Parliament--when I am patched upand more decent looking, and I believe you would be of the greatest helpto me. "

"You mean the whole thing simply as a business arrangement?"

"I have already stated that. "

She started to her feet. 

"The bargain, " I went on, "would be quite a fair one. I am offering tobuy a thing which is not for sale--therefore, I am willing to paywhatever would tempt the owner to part with it. I am not mixing up anysentiment in the affair. I want the brain of you for my scheme of life, and the laws of the quaintly civilized society to which we belong, donot permit me to hire it--I must buy it outright. I put it to younet--is there any way we can effect this deal?"

Her lips were quivering--. 

"You would say this, no matter what you might hear of my family?"

"I am quite unconcerned as to their history. I have observed you, andyou possess all the qualities which I want in the partner who can helpme to live my new life. For me you are just a personality--" (thus Ilied valiantly!) "not a woman. "

"Can I believe you?" she asked a little breathlessly. 

"You are thinking of that day when I kissed you--" her lips told me bytheir sudden drawing in, that she was agitated. 

"Well--I expect really that you know men well enough, Miss Sharp, toknow that they have sudden temptations--but that a strong will canovercome them. I was very much moved about your grief that afternoon, and the suppressed emotion, and the exasperation you had caused me, unbalanced me--I am quite unlikely ever to feel again--if you will marryme, I will give you my word I will never touch you, or expect anything, of you except what you agree to give in the bargain. You can lead yourown life--and I can lead mine. "

I felt suddenly that these last words were not very wise--for theyaroused in her mind the thought that I should go on having friends likeSuzette. I hastened to add--

"You will have my deepest respect, and as my wife shall be treated withevery courtesy and honour. "

She sat down again and raised her hands to her eyes as though to removeher glasses, and then remembered and dropped them. 

"I see that you would rather not answer to-day, Miss Sharp--you mightprefer to go now and think about it?"

"Thank you. " She turned and walked back into the little salon without aword more, and when she went I closed my eye exhausted with the greatstrain. 

But I did not feel altogether hopeless until Burton came in to tell melunch was ready and said that Alathea had gone. 

"The young lady said as how she would not be back she expected, and shetook her own pens and things in her bag. She was as white as a lily, give you my word, Sir Nicholas. "

I am ashamed to say that I felt a little faint then. Had I oversteppedthe mark, and should I never see her again?

A whole party of the fluffies were coming to dinner, and we were to havea very gay evening. I ordered my one horse Victoria and went for a drivein the _Bois_, to calm myself, and the trees with their early autumntints seemed to mock at me. I could see too much beauty in them, and ithurt. Everything hurt! This was certainly the worst afternoon I have hadto bear since I came to on No-Man's Land near Langemarke. But I supposeat dinner I played the game, for Coralie and the rest congratulated me. 

"Getting quite well, Nicholas! And of a _chic_! _Va!_"

We played poker afterwards and the stakes were high, and I was thewinner the whole time, until I could see anxiety creep into more thanone eye (pair of eyes! I have got so accustomed to writing of eyes inthe singular that I forget!) We had quantities of champagne and someexotic musicians Maurice had procured for me, and a nude Hindoo dancer. 

Everyone went more or less mad. 

They left about four in the morning, all rather drunk, if one must writeit. But the more I had drunk the more hideously sober and filled withanguish I seemed to become, until when I had called the last cheerygood-night and was at last alone in my bed, I felt as if the end hadcome, and that death would be the next and only good thing which couldhappen to me. 

I have never before had this strange detached sense in such measure asthis night. As of a hungry agonized spirit standing outside its wretchedbody, and watching its feeble movements, conscious of their futility, conscious of being chained to the miserable thing, and only knowingrebellion and agony. 

Burton gave me a sleeping draught, and I slept far into the next day toawake more unhappy than ever, obsessed with self-contempt anddegradation. 

In the afternoon, I received a note from Maurice, telling me that he hadinadvertently heard that a fellow in the American Red Cross had seenMiss Sharp's passport, when she had been sent down to Brest for them, and the name on it was Alathea Bulteel Sharp, and judging that thesecond name sounded as if it might be a well-known English one, hehastened to tell me, in case it should be a clue. I could not thinkwhere I had heard it before, or with what memory it was connecting in mybrain. I had a feeling it was something to do with George Harcourt. Ipuzzled for a while, and then I looked back over the pages of myjournal, and there found what I had written of his conversation--BobbyBulteel--Hartelford's brother--cheating at cards--and married to LadyHilda Marchant----

Of course!--The whole thing became plain to me! This would account foreverything. I hobbled up and got down the peerage. I turned to theHartelford title, and noted the brothers--the Hon'bles--John Sinclair, Charles Henry, and Robert Edgar. This last must be "Bobby" Then I readthe usual things--"Educated at Eton and Christchurch, etc. , etc. " "Leftthe Guards in 1893. " "Married in 1894--Lady Hilda Farwell, only daughterof the Marquess of Braxted (title extinct) and divorced wife of WilliamMarchant, Esquire. " "Issue--"

"Alathea--born 1894, John Robert born 1905, and Hilda born 1907. "

So the whole tragic story seemed to unfold itself before me. 

Alathea is the child of that great love and sacrifice of her Mother--Iread again the words George had used: "She adored the fellow who hadevery charm. " All the world might cast him out, but that one faithfulwoman gave up home and name and honour, to follow him in his disgrace. That was love indeed, however misplaced! I looked again at the dates andmade a calculation of the time divorces took then, and I saw that mylittle darling girl could only have escaped illegitimacy by perhaps afew hours!

What had her life been? I pictured it. They must have hidden diminishedheads in hole and corner places during the dreary years. Such a man asBobby Bulteel must have been, as George said, a weakling. TheHartlefords were poor as church mice, and were not likely to assist ascapegrace, who had dishonoured them. I remembered hearing that on theold Lord Braxted's death years ago, Braxted was sold to theMerrion-Walters, Ironfounders from Leeds. No doubt the old man had cuthis daughter off without the traditional shilling, but even so, somehundreds a year must have been theirs. What then did the poverty ofAlathea suggest? That some constant drain must be going on all the time. Could the scapegrace still be a gambler, and that could account for it?This seemed the most probable explanation. 

Then all over me there rushed a mad worship for my little love. Hersplendid unselfishness, her noble self-sacrifice, her dignity, herserenity. I could have kissed the ground under her feet. 

I made Burton spend untold time telephoning to the Embassy, and then toVersailles to Colonel Harcourt--would he not dine with me? He was sorryhe was engaged but he would lunch the next day. Then when the longevening was in front of me alone--I could hardly bear it. And, driven todesperation at last, when Burton was undressing me, I said to him:

"Did you ever know anything of the Hartlefords, Burton--Bulteel is thefamily name?"

"Can't say as I did personally, Sir Nicholas, " he answered, "but ofcourse, when I was a young boy taking my first fourth-footman's place, before I came to your father, Sir Guy, at Her Grace of Wiltshire's, Icould not help hearing of the scandal about the cheating at cards. Thewhole nobility and gentry was put to about it, and nothing else wastalked of at dinner. "

"Try and tell me what you remember of the story. "

So Burton held forth in his own way for a quarter of an hour. There hadbeen no possible doubt of the crime, it was the week after the Derby, and Bulteel had lost heavily it was said. He was caught red-handed andgot off abroad that night, and the matter would have been hushed upprobably but for the added sensation of Lady Hilda's elopement with him. That set society by the ears, and the thing was the thrill of theseason. Mr. Marchant had been "all broken-up" by it, and delayed thedivorce so that as far as Burton could remember, Captain Bulteel couldnot marry Lady Hilda for more than a year afterwards. All this coincidedwith what I already knew. Lord Braxted too, "took on fearful, " and diedof a broken heart it was said, leaving every cent to charity. The entailhad been cut in the generation before and the title became extinct athis death. 

I did not tell Burton then of my discovery, and lay long hours in thedark, thinking and thinking. 

What did the Duchesse's attitude mean? In the eyes of the Duchesse deCourville-Hautevine, _neé_ Adelaide de Mont Orgeuil--to cheat at cardswould be the worst of all the cardinal sins. Such a man as Bobby Bulteelmust be separated from his kind. She knew Lady Hilda probably (theDuchesse often stayed in England with my mother) and she probably felt adisapproving pity for the poor lady. The great charity of her mind wouldbe touched by suffering, if the suffering was apparent, and perhaps shehad some affection for the girl Alathea. But no affection could bridgethe gulf which separated the child of an outcast from her world. Thesins of the father would inevitably be visited upon the children by anunwritten law, and although she might love Alathea herself, she couldnot countenance her union with me. The daughter of a man who had cheatedat cards should go into a convent. I instinctively felt somehow thatthis would be her viewpoint. 

Does Alathea know this tragedy about her father? Has she had to livealways under this curse? Oh! The pity of it all. 

Morning found me more restless and miserable than I have ever been, andit brought no sign of my love!

XVIII

George Harcourt was called suddenly to Rome that morning and so evenhearing him talk further about the Bulteels was denied me for the time. I passed some days of the cruelest unrest. There was no sign of Alathea. I allowed Maurice to drag me out into the world and spent my eveningsamong my kind. 

A number of my old pals have been killed lately, such an irony when thewar seems to be drawing to a close! There is still an atmosphere oftension and unrestfulness in the air, though. 

After an awful week George Harcourt came back and dropped in to see me. I opened fire at once, and asked him to tell me all that he knew of theBulteels, especially his old brother officer Bobby. 

"I have a particular reason for asking, George, " I said. 

"Very curious your speaking of them, Nicholas, because there has justbeen the devil of a fuss in the French Foreign Legion about thatinfernal blackguard; it came to my knowledge in my work. "

"Has he been cheating at cards again?"

George nodded. 

"Tell me from the beginning. "

So he started--many of the bits I already knew. Lady Hilda had been agreat friend of his and he dwelt upon the life of suffering she hadhad. 

"There were a few years of frantic love and some sort of happiness, Iexpect, and then funds began to give out, and Bobbie's insane desire togamble led him into the shadiest society, at Baden-Baden and Nice, andother warm spots. Poor Hilda used to go about with him then in a shamed, defiant way, running from any old friend, or staring over his head. Ihappened upon them once or twice in my wanderings; then I lost sight ofthem for some years, and the next thing was someone told me the poorwoman had broken down and was a nervous wreck, and two children had beenborn in quick succession, when the first one was about eleven years old, and the whole family were in miserable straits. I think relations paidup that time--with the understanding that never again were they to beapplied to. And since then I have heard nothing until the other day itcame to my ears that the eldest girl--she must be over twenty now, wassupporting the entire family. One of the children died lately, and nowBobby has put the cap on it. I am sorry for them, but Bobby isimpossible. "

Oh! My poor little girl, what a life! How I longed to take her out ofit!

He went on. 

"Strange how certain instincts show themselves under every condition. Bobby was no physical coward, and to talk to and mix with casually, themost perfect gentleman you ever met. Awfully well read and a topper atclassics and history, and sang like a bird. He had the grand manner, and could attract any woman, though to give the devil his due--I believefor some years he was faithful to Lady Hilda. "

"I should think so!" I said indignantly. "After accepting her greatsacrifice!"

"Nothing lasts, my dear boy, that is not fundamental. Bobby was a rotterthrough and through, and so he couldn't even behave decently to thewoman who had given up everything for him, once her charm went. But--that something in human beings which is unaccountable, when theyare well bred, made him join the French Foreign Legion immediately warbroke out, and behave with great gallantry. "

"What brought on the last episode?"

"He was probably bored in the dull post where he was, with not muchfighting to do lately, and resorted to his old game to cover up losses, which he could not pay, and had the bad luck to be caught for the secondtime. I told you he was a fool and did not know how to calculate theprice of his follies. "

"When did you hear of this?"

"Only last night on my return, and there will be a disgusting scandal, and the old story will be raked up and it is pretty beastly forEnglishmen. "

"Can money keep it quiet, George?"

"I expect so, but who would be fool enough to pay for such a fellow?"

"I would, and will, if you can manage it without letting my nameappear. "

"My dear boy, how does it interest you? Why should you do such aquixotic thing? It is twenty-five thousand francs. "

"Only twenty-five thousand francs! I'll give you the cheque this minuteGeorge, if you can, in your own way, free the poor devil. "

"But Nicholas--you must be mad my dear boy!--Or you have some strongmotive I do not know of. "

"Yes, I have--I want this chap freed from disaster, not for his sake, but for the sake of the family. What must that poor lady have gonethrough, and that poor girl!"

George looked at me with his whimsical cynical eye. 

"It's awfully decent of you, Nicholas, " was all he said though, and Ireached for my cheque-book, and wrote a cheque for thirty thousandfrancs with my stylo. 

"You may need the extra five thousand, George--to make sure of thething, and I count on you to patch it up as soon as you can. "

He left after that, promising to see into the affair at once, andtelephone me the result--and when he had gone I tried to think over whatit all means?

Alathea did not know of this when I asked her to marry me last week. Shemust never know that I am paying, even if that makes matters easy enoughfor her to refuse me. The reason of her long silence is because thisfresh trouble has fallen upon them, I am sure. I feel so awfully, notbeing able to comfort her. The whole burden upon those youngshoulders. --

Just as I wrote that yesterday, Burton came in to say that Miss Sharpwas in the little salon, and wished to see me, and I sent him to prayher to come in. I rose from my chair to bow to her when she entered, shenever shakes hands. I was awfully pained to see the change in her. Herpoor little white face was thin and woebegone and even her lips pale, and her air was not so proud as usual. 

"Won't you sit down, " I said with whatever of homage I could put into myvoice. 

She was so humbled and miserable, that I knew she would even have takenoff her glasses if I had asked her to, but of course I would not dothat. 

She seemed to find it hard to begin. I felt troubled for her andstarted. 

"I am awfully glad that you have come back. "

She locked her hands together, in the shabby, black suede gloves. 

"I have come to tell you that if you will give me twenty-five thousandfrancs this afternoon, I will accept your offer, and will marry you. "

I held out my hand in my infinite joy, but I tried to control all otherexhibition of emotion. 

"That is awfully good of you--I can't say how I thank you, " I said in avoice which sounded quite stern. "Of course I will give you anything inthe world you want. " And again I reached for my cheque-book and wrote acheque for fifty thousand and handed it to her. 

She looked at it, and went crimson. 

"I do not want all that, twenty-five thousand is enough. That is theprice of the bargain. "

I would not let this hurt me. 

"Since you have consented to marry me, I have the right to give you whatI please--you may need more than you have suggested, and I wanteverything to be smooth and as you would wish. "

She trembled all over. 

"I--I cannot argue now, I must go at once; but I will think over what Imust say about it. "

"If you are going to be my wife, you must know that all that is minewill be yours; so how can a few thousand francs more or less now makeany difference, though if you have any feeling concerning it, you canpay me back out of your first month's dress allowance!" and I tried tosmile. 

She started to her feet. 

"When shall I see you again?" I pleaded. 

"In two days. "

"When will you marry me?"

"Whenever you arrange. "

"Must you go now?"

"Yes--I must--I am grateful for your generosity, I will fulfill my sideof the bargain. "

"And I mine. "

I tried to rise, and she handed me my crutch, and then went towards thedoor, there she turned. 

"I will come on Friday at ten o'clock as usual, Good-bye, " and she bowedand left me. 

What a remarkable way to become an engaged man!! But only joy filled meat that moment. I wanted to shout and sing--and thank God!

Alathea will be mine, and surely it will only be a question of timebefore I can make her love me, my little girl!

I rang for Burton. I must have rung vigorously for he came in hurriedly. 

"Burton, " I said, "Congratulate me, my old friend--Miss Sharp haspromised to marry me. "

For once Burton's imperturbability deserted him, he almost staggered andput his hand to his head. 

"God bless my soul, Sir Nicholas, " he gasped, and then went on, "Begpardon, Sir, but that is the best piece of news I ever did hear in mylife. "

And his dear old eyes were full of tears while he blew his nosevigorously. 

"It will be a very quiet wedding, Burton. We shall have it at theConsulate, and I suppose at the church in the _Rue d'Agesseau_, if MissSharp is a Protestant--I have never asked her. "

"The wedding don't so much matter, Sir Nicholas. It is having the younglady always here to look after you. "

"Without her glasses, Burton!"

"As you say Sir, without them horn things. " And there was a world ofunderstanding in his faithful eyes. 

He left the room presently with the walk of a boy, so elated was he, and I was left alone, thrilling in every nerve with triumph. How I longfor Friday I cannot possibly say. 

In the afternoon Maurice and Alwood Chester, and Madame de Clerté cameto see me, and all exclaimed at my improved appearance. 

"Why you look like a million dollars, Nicholas, " Alwood said, "What isup, old bird?"

"I am getting well, that is all. "

"We are going to have a party on Sunday to introduce you to theloveliest young girl in Paris, " Solonge announced. "The daughter of afriend of mine without a great dot, but that does not matter for you, Nicholas. We think that you should marry and marry a _jeune fillefrancaise_!"

"That is sweet of you. I have shown how I appreciate young girls, havenot I?"

"For that--no!" she laughed, "But the time has come--. "

I felt amused, what will Alathea think of these, my friends? Solonge isthe best of them. 

Maurice had an air of anxiety underneath his watchful friendliness. He'sfine enough to _feel_ atmospheres, or whatever it is that comes frompeople, not in words. He felt that some great change had taken place inme, and he was not sure what aspect it would have in regard to himself. He came back after he had seen Madame de Clerté to her coupé!--She hasessence also now, --and his rather ridiculous, kindly, effeminate, little dark face was appealing. 

"_Eh bien, mon ami?_" he said. 

"_Eh bien?_"

"There is something, Nicholas, what? Was the clue of any use to you?"

"Yes, thank you a thousand times, Maurice, I could trace the wholething. Miss Sharp comes of a very distinguished family, which I know allabout. Her uncle is a miserable Earl! That is respectable enough, especially a tenth Earl! And her maternal grandfather was a 'Marquess. '"

"_Vrai, mon vieux?_"

"Quite true!"

Maurice was duly interested. 

"You were right then about the breeding, it always does show. "

I had difficulty in not telling him my news, but I thought it wiser toremain silent until after Friday! Friday! Day of days!

Maurice suspected that there was something beyond in all this, and wasnot sure which course would be the best to pursue; one of sympathy orunconsciousness. He decided upon the latter and presently left me. 

Then I telephoned to Cartier to hare some rings sent up to look at. Ihave a feeling that I must be very discreet about giving Alatheapresents, or she will be resentful and even suspect that my bargain isnot entirely a business one. I am afraid I seemed a little too pleasedat our interview; I must be indifferently aloof on Friday. 

I suppose I had better not give her my mother's pearls until after theceremony. I wonder if there will be a fuss when I suggest her going tothe _Rue de la Paix_ for clothes? I apprehend that there will be astubborn resistance to almost everything I would wish to do. 

How will the Duchesse take it! Probably philosophically, once it is anaccomplished fact. 

At that moment Burton brought me in a note from that very lady! I openedit eagerly, and its contents made me smile. 

The Duchesse wrote to remind me of a request I once made her, that if acertain family were in trouble that I would assist them to any amount. Twenty-five thousand francs were now absolutely necessary on the moment, if I could send them to her by bearer, I would know that I was doing agood deed!

For the third time that day I reached for my cheque-book and wrote acheque, but for only the sum asked on this occasion, and then whenBurton had brought me note paper, I sent a little word with it, to theDuchesse, and when I was alone again I laughed aloud. 

Three people determined upon it must surely save the scapegrace!--Iwonder which of the three will get there first!

I would not go out anywhere to dinner, I wanted to be alone to thinkover the whole strange turn of fate. Do strong desires influence events?Or are all these things settled beforehand? Or is there something inreincarnation, which Alathea believes in, and the actions of one lifecause that which looks like fate in the next? We shall have many talkson this subject, I hope. 

I wonder, how long it will take for my little love to come voluntarilyinto my arms?----?

XIX

_Saturday_:

I wonder how long I shall go on writing in this Journal? I suppose onceI should be happy it would not be necessary; well the moment has not yetcome, in in spite of my being the _fiancé_ of the woman I desire. 

At ten o'clock I was waiting for her in the sitting-room, and I wasthinking of that other time when I waited in anxiety, in case she didnot return at all. I was very excited, but it was more the exhilarationI used to feel when we were going to have some stunning maraudingexpeditions over No-Man's Land. The old zest was in my veins. 

I heard Alathea's ring, and after she had taken off her hat she cameinto the room. I believed that her anxieties must be assuaged becauseGeorge Harcourt had telephoned late on Thursday night to say that he hadbeen successful, and that he had four thousand francs to hand back tome, the affair having been concluded for twenty-six thousand. So whatwas my surprise to see Alathea's face below her glasses more woebegonethan ever! At first it gave me a stab of pain. Does she really hate meso? She did not mention the money, so I wonder if it is that she doesnot yet know her father is cleared? I bowed as coldly as I used alwaysto do, and she asked me if I had a chapter ready for her to type? Ianswered that I had not, because I had been too busy with other thingsto have composed anything. 

"I think we had better discuss the necessary arrangements for ourmarriage before we can settle down to our old work, " I said. 

"Very well. "

"I shall have to have your full name and your father's and mother's andall that, you know, to make it legal. My lawyer will attend to all theformalities--they are quite considerable, I believe. He arrives fromLondon on Monday. I got him a passport by pulling a lot of strings. "

She actually trembled. It seemed as if the idea of all this had not cometo her, some of the value of her sacrifice would be diminished if thefamily skeleton should be laid bare, I could see she felt, so Ireassured her. 

"Believe me, I do not wish you to tell me anything about your family. Aslong as you can give just sufficient facts to satisfy the law, I have nocuriosity to see them unless I can be of use. "

"Thank you. "

"I think a fortnight is the quickest that everything can be settledin. --Will you marry me on the seventh of November, Miss Sharp?"

"Yes. "

"Do you care for the church ceremony, or will the one at the Consulatedo?"

"I should think that would be quite enough for us. "

The ring cases were all lying upon the table by me--I pointed to them. 

"I wonder if you would choose an engagement ring?" and I began openingthe lids. "It is customary, you know, " I went on as she startedreluctantly. I intended to be firm with her in all the points where Ihad rights. 

"Don't you think it is a little ridiculous?" she asked. "A ring for amere business arrangement?"

I would not allow myself to be hurt, but I was conscious that I felt alittle angry. 

"You would prefer not to choose a ring then? Very well, I will decidefor you, " and I took up one really magnificent single stone diamond, setas only Cartier can set stones. 

"This is the last thing in modernity, " and I handed it to her. "A hardwhite diamond of egregious size, it cannot fail to be a reminder of ourhard business bargain, and I shall ask you to be good enough to wearit. "

I suppose she saw that I was not pleased, for she drew in her lips alittle, but she took the ring. 

Her hands seemed very restless as she held it, they were certainly notnearly so red as they formerly were. 

"Am I to put it on now?"

"Please. "

She did so, only she put it on her right third finger, her cheeksgrowing pink. 

"Why do you do that?" I asked. 

"What?"

"Put the ring on the wrong hand. "

She changed it reluctantly, then she burst out:

"I suppose I ought to thank you for such a very splendid gift, but Ican't, because I would much rather not have it, please do let us keep tobusiness in every way, and please don't give me any more presents. I amgoing to be just your secretary, with my wages commuted into some lumpsum, I suppose. "

I felt more angry, and I think she saw it. I remained silent, whichforced her to speak. 

"Do you intend that I shall live here, in the flat?"

"Of course. Will you please choose which of the two guest rooms youwould prefer, they both have bathrooms, and you will have the decorationre-done as you wish. "

Silence. 

My exasperation augmented. 

"Will you also please engage a maid, and go and order every sort ofclothes which you ought to have. I know by the way you were dressed whenI saw you in the _Bois_ that Sunday, that your taste is perfect. "

She stiffened as I spoke. It was quite plain to be seen that she loathedtaking anything from me, but I had no intention of ceding a single pointwhere I had the right to impose my will. 

"You see you will be known as my wife, therefore you must dressaccording to the position, and have everything my mother used to have. Otherwise, people would not respect you, and only think that you wereinvidiously placed. "

Her cheeks flamed again at the last words. 

"It is difficult to picture it all, " she said; "Tell me exactly what youexpect of me daily. "

"I expect that when you have breakfasted, in your room if you wish, thatyou will come and talk to me, perhaps do a little writing, or go out todrive, or what you wish, and that we shall lunch, and in the afternoondo whatever turns up. You will want to go out and see your friends anddo what you please. And perhaps you will play to me as often as you feelinclined, and after dinner we can go to the theatre, or read, or dowhatever you like. And as soon as my treatments with these doctors areconcluded, and I have my new leg and eye, and we shall hope war isfinished, we can travel, or go back to England, and then I shall begintaking up a political career, and I shall hope you will take a realinterest in that and help me as though I were your brother. "

"Very well. "

"You will order the clothes to-day?"

"Yes. "

She was subdued now, the programme was not very formidable, except thatit contained daily companionship with me. 

"Have you told the Duchesse de Courville-Hautevine yet that we areengaged?" I asked after a moment's pause. 

Discomfort grew in her manner. 

"No. "

"Do you think that she will not approve of the marriage?"

"She may not. "

"Perhaps you would rather that I told her?"

"As you please. "

"I want you to understand something quite clearly, Alathea. " She startedwhen I said her name, "and that is that I expect you to treat me withconfidence, and tell me anything which you think that I ought to know, so that we neither of us can be put in a false position, beyond that, believe me, I have no curiosity. I desire a companionship of brain, anda sort of permanent secretary who does not feel hostile all the time, that is all. "

I could see that she was controlling herself with all her will, and thatshe was overwrought and intensely troubled. I knew that some barrier wasbetween us which I could not at present surmount. All she said after aminute was:

"How did you know that my name was 'Alathea'?"

"I heard your little sister call you that the day I saw you in the_Bois_. I think it a very beautiful name. "

Silence. 

Her discomfort seemed to come to a climax, for after a little she spoke. 

"The twenty-five thousand francs beyond the twenty-five I asked you for, I cannot return to you. I feel very much about it, and that you shouldpay for my clothes, and give me presents. It is the hardest thing I everhad to do in my life, --to take all this. "

"Do not let it bother you, I am quite content with the bargain. Perhapsyou would rather go now after we have selected which room you willhave. "

"Thank you. "

She gave me my crutch, and I led the way and she followed. I knewinstinctively that she would choose the room which was furthest frommine. She did!

"This will do, " she said immediately we entered it. 

"The look-out is not so nice, it only gets the early morning sun, " Iventured to remark. 

"It is quieter. "

"Very well. "

"It was rather arranged for a man, and is perhaps severe. Do you wishanything changed?"

She did not appear to take any more interest in it than if it had been ahotel room. She had given it the merest glance, although it is quite alittle masterpiece in its way, of William and Mary--even the panellingbeing English, and of the time, and the old rose silk window and bedcurtains. 

"I don't want anything altered, thank you. "

It seemed a strange moment, to be talking thus calmly to the woman who, in a fortnight, will be my wife. I feel that a volcano is really workingunder our feet, and that adds to the excitement!

When we got back to the sitting-room I offered to send the carriage forher to go and do her shopping, but she refused, and I thought it waswiser to let her go. We shall have years to talk in presently, and thereis always the danger of our coming to an open rupture, and the bargainbeing off, if we see much of one another now. 

"Good-bye, " she said a little nervously, and I bowed and said"Good-bye, " and she went from the room. 

And when she had gone I laughed aloud, and began to analyse thesituation. 

George Harcourt has paid the gambling debt, therefore the fifty thousandI gave Alathea cannot have been used for that. Some fresh worry isperhaps upon the wretched family. The obvious thing for me to do is togo and see the Duchesse, and yet I have some strange sort of wish thatit should be Alathea herself who tells me everything, and not that shebecomes aware, by inference, that I must know. I feel that our futurehappiness depends upon her giving up all this stubborn pride. What is atthe back of her mind? I do not know. That resentment and dislike of mehas only become crystallized since the Suzette affair. I am sure shethinks that Suzette is my mistress still, and this insults her, but shereasons that with the bargain as it is, she has not the smallest rightto object. She is furious with herself to think that it should matter toher. That is a thought! Why indeed should it matter if she is utterlyindifferent to me? Is it possible? Can it be that? No--I dare not thinkof it, but, in any case it will be the most thrilling situation, onceshe is my wife. 

I believe it would be wisest for me not to go to the Duchesse's butsimply to write her a note telling her of my news, then anything shemay tell me will be gratuitous. 

I had just finished doing this when once again a letter was brought infrom that lady, and this time it was to thank me for my cheque, and totell me that it had been the means of preventing a most disagreeablescandal and bringing peace to a family!

Sardonic mirth overcame me. So three separate people seem to be underthe impression that they have paid this gambler's debts! Each apparentlyunaware that there was anyone else in the running! It looks as if"Bobby" had wolfed the lot! Does Alathea know, and is this the extracause of her worry?

I sent my note back by the Duchesse's messenger, who still waited, andwent to my luncheon. 

In about an hour the telephone rang--a request from the Hotel deCourville that I should repair there immediately without fail. 

"Her Grace spoke herself, " Burton said, "and said it was most important, Sir Nicholas. "

"Very well, order the carriage. By the way. Burton, did you congratulateMiss Sharp?"

Burton coughed. 

"I did make so bold, Sir Nicholas, as to tell the young lady how veryglad I was, but she took it queer like, she stiffened up and said it wasonly a business arrangement, to be able to write your letters and doyour work without people talking about it. That seemed funny to me, so Isaid nothing more. "

"Burton it is funny for the moment, Miss Sharp is only marrying me forsome reason for her family, the same one which forces her to work, but Ihope I can make her think differently about it some day. "

"Pardon the liberty I am taking, Sir Nicholas, but perhaps she don'tlike the idea of Mam'zelle, and don't know she's gone for good. "

"That is probably the case. "

Burton's wise old face expressed complete understanding, as he left theroom, and presently I was on my way to the Hotel de Courville, a senseof exhilaration and of excitement and joy in my heart!

XX

The Duchesse was playing impatiently with her glasses when I wasannounced by the servant of ninety! Her face expressed some strongfeeling. I was not sure if it was tinged with displeasure or no. Shehelped me to sit down, and then she began at once. 

"Nicholas, explain yourself. You tell me you are engaged to yoursecretary! So this has been going on all the time, and you have not toldme. I, who was your mother's oldest friend!"

"Dear Duchesse, you are mistaken, it has only just been settled. No onewas more surprised at my offer than Miss Sharp herself. "

"You know her real name, Nicholas? And her family history? You haveguessed, of course, from my asking you for the twenty-five thousandfrancs, that they were in some difficulty?"

"Yes, I know Alathea is the daughter of the Honorable Robert and LadyHilda Bulteel. "

"She has told you all of the story, perhaps?--but you cannot know whatthe money was for, because the poor child does not know it herself. Itis more just that I should inform you, since you are going to marry intothe family. "

"Thank you, Duchesse. "

She then began, and gave me a picture of her old friendship with LadyHilda, and of the dreadful calamity which had befallen in her going offwith Bobby Bulteel. 

"It was one of those cases of mad love, Nicholas, which fortunately seemto have died out of the modern world, though for the truth I must saythat one more _séduisant_ than _ce joli Bulteel_, I have never met! Onecould not, of course, acknowledge them for a crime like that, but I haveever been fond of poor Hilda and that sweet little child. She was bornhere, in this hotel. Poor Hilda came to me in her great trouble, and Iwas in deep mourning myself then for my husband, --the house is large, and it could all pass quietly. "

I reached forward and took the Duchesse's hand and kissed it, and shewent on:

"Alatheé is my godchild, one of my names is Alatheé. The poor littleone, she adored her father, in all those first years. They wandered muchand only came to Paris at intervals, and each time they came, a littlepoorer, a little more troubled, and then after a lapse I heard those twowere born at Nice--wretched little decadents, when my poor Hilda was amass of nerves and disillusion. Alatheé was eleven then. It was, _parhazard_, when she was about fourteen that she heard of her father'scrime. She was the gayest, most sweet child before that, through alltheir poverty, but from that moment her character was changed. Itdestroyed something in her spirit, one must believe. She set firmly toeducation, decided she would be a secretary, cultivated herself, worked, worked, worked! She worshipped her mother, and resented immensely herfather's treatment of her. "

"She must always have had a wonderful character. "

"For that, yes, " and the Duchesse paused a moment, then went on:

"Quite a tremendous character, and as Bobby sank and poor Hilda becamemore ill, and wretched, that child has risen in strength, and supportedthem all. Since the war came they have almost lived upon her earnings. The father is without conscience, and of a selfishness unspeakable! Hismoney all went to him for his use, and Alatheé was left to supplementthe mother's wretched two or three thousand francs a year. And now thatbrute has again cheated at cards, and poor Hilda came to me in her greatdistress, and remembering your words, Nicholas, I called upon you. Itwould have been too cruel for the poor woman to have had to sufferagain. Hilda took the money and gave it to this infamous husband, andthe affair was settled that night. Alatheé knows nothing about it. "

Light was dawning upon me. The admirable Bobby has evidently played uponthe feelings of both wife and daughter!

"Duchesse, why did you not wish me to know the real name, and would nothelp me at all about 'Miss Sharp, '--won't you now tell me your reason?"

The Duchesse shaded her eyes from the fire with a hand-screen, and itcame between us, and I could not see her face, but her voice changed. 

"I was greatly surprised to find the girl in your flat one day. I hadnot understood with whom she was working. I was not pleased about it, frankly, Nicholas, because one cannot help knowing of your existence andyour friends, and I feared your interest for a secretary might be as forthem, and I disliked that my godchild should run such a risk. When_jeunes filles_ of the world have to take up menial positions they areof course open to such situations, and have to expect difficulties. Iwished to protect her as well as I could. "

Suddenly I saw myself, and the utterly rotten life I had led, that this, my old friend, even, could not be sure of my chivalry. I loathed thelax, cheap honor of the world and its hypocrisy. I could not even beindignant with the Duchesse, judging me from that standpoint. She wasright, but I did tell her that men had a slightly different angle inlooking upon such things in England, where women worked, and wererespected in all classes, and that the idea of making love to anysecretary would never have entered my head. It was the intelligence andthe dignity of Alathea herself which had made me desire her for acompanion. 

"It is well that you are English, Nicholas. No Frenchman of family couldhave married the daughter of a man who had cheated at cards. "

"Even if the girl was good and splendid like Alathea, Duchesse?"

"For that, no, my son, we have little left but our traditions, and ournames, and those things matter to us. No, frankly, I could not havepermitted the union had you been my son. "

So I had been right in my analysis of what would be the bent of my oldfriend's mind. 

"You are pleased now, though, dear Duchesse?" I pleaded. 

"It seems impossible, from my point, and I would not have encouraged it, but since it is done, I can but wish my dear Alatheé and you, my dearboy true happiness. "

Again I took and kissed her kind hand. 

"In England, especially in this war time, questions are not asked, _n'est ce pas_? She can be 'Sharp' simply and not Bulteel, then it maypass. For the girl, herself, you have a rare jewel, Nicholas--unselfish, devoted, true, but the will of the devil! You shall not be able to turnher as you wish, if her ideas go the other way!"

"Duchesse, the situation is peculiar, there is no question of love init. Alathea is marrying me merely that she may give money to her family. I am marrying that I may have a secretary without scandal. We are notgoing to be really husband and wife. "

The Duchesse dropped her fire-screen, her clever-eyes were whimsical andsparkling. 

"_Tiens_!" she said, and never has the delicious word conveyed so muchmeaning! "You believe that truly Nicholas? Alatheé is a very pretty girlwhen properly dressed--"

"And without glasses!"

"As you say, without glasses, which I hear cover her fine eyes when inyour society!"

"I asked her to marry me under those terms, and it was only upon thoseterms she accepted me. "

The Duchesse laughed. 

"A nice romance! Well, my son, I wish you joy!"

"Duchesse, " and I leaned forward, "do you really think I can make herlove me? Am I too awful? Is there a chance?"

The Duchesse patted my arm and her face shone with kindliness. 

"Of course, foolish boy!" And she broke into French, using the "thee"and "thou" again affectionately. 'I was very handsome!--that whichremained, --and all would look the same as ever when the repairing shouldbe complete!'

"So very tall and fine, Nicholas, and hair of a thickness, and what isbest of all, that air of a great gentleman. Yes, yes, women will alwayslove thee, _sans_ eye, _sans_ leg, do not disturb thyself!"

"Don't tell her I love her, Duchesse, " I pleaded. "We have much to learnof each other. If she did not believe it was a bargain equal on bothsides, she would not marry me at all!"

The Duchesse agreed about this. 

"Whatever she has promised she will perform, but why she does not lovethee already I cannot tell. "

"She dislikes me, she thinks I am a rotter, and I expect she was right, but I shall not be in the future, and then perhaps she will change. "

When I left the Hotel de Courville it had been arranged that theDuchesse would receive my wife with honour, her world only knowing thatI had married an English "Miss Sharp. "

I heard no more of my _fiancée_ until next morning, when she telephoned. Did I wish her to come that day?

Burton answered that I hoped she would, about eleven o'clock. 

I intended to tell her that I thought that it might be wiser now if shedid not come again until the wedding, as once we were engaged I wouldnot allow her to run the risk of meeting anyone and giving a falseimpression. I think the strain would be too great in any case. 

I did not come in to the salon until she was there, and she rose as Ientered. She was whiter than ever, and very stern. 

"I have been thinking, " she said, before I could speak, "that if Ipromise to fulfill the bargain, and live here in the flat with you, going through the ceremony at the Consulate is quite unnecessary. Yourcaprice of having me for your wife merely in name in England, may pass, and it seems ridiculous to be tied. I am quite indifferent to whatanyone thinks of me. I would prefer it like that. "

"Why?" I asked, and wondered for a moment what had occurred. 

"There are so many stupid law things, if there is a marriage, and if youhave the same from me without, surely you see that it is better. "

I first thought that it was this fear of my knowing her family historywhich was at the root of this suggestion, but then I remembered that shewould know that I would hear it in any case from the Duchesse. What thencould it be?

I felt cruel, I was not going to make things too easy for her. If shehas the will of the devil, she has also the pride!

"If you are indifferent to such an invidious position as your new ideawould place us in, I am not, I do not wish my friends to think that I amsuch a cad as presumably to have taken advantage of your being mysecretary. "

"You wish to go on with the marriage then?"

"Of course. "

She clasped her hands together suddenly, as if she could control herselfno longer, and I thought of what she had said to Burton about feelingthat she could not fight any more. I would not allow myself tosympathize with her. I was longing in every nerve of my being to takeher into my arms, and tell her that I loved her, and knew everything, but I would not do this. I cannot let her master me, or we shall neverhave any peace. I will not tell her that I love her until her pride isbroken, and I have made her love me and come to me voluntarily. 

She was silent. 

"I have informed the Duchesse de Courville that we are engaged. I sawher yesterday. "

She started perceptibly. 

"She has told you my real name?"

"I have known that for some time. I thought I had made it plain to youthat I am not interested about the subject, we need not mention itagain, you have only to talk to old Robert Nelson, my lawyer, when hecomes on Monday. He will tell you the settlements I propose to make, andyou can discuss with him as to whether or not you think themsatisfactory. Perhaps you on your side will tell me what reason you havestrong enough to make a girl of your natural self-respect, willing totake the position of my apparent mistress?"

She burst out for a second, throwing out her hands, then controllingherself. 

"No, I won't tell you. --I will tell you nothing, I will just stick tothe bargain if I must. You have no right to my thoughts, only myactions!"

I bowed; disagreeable as she was, there was a distinctly pleasant zestin fighting!

"Perhaps of your courtesy, you will take off those glasses now, since Iam aware that you only wear them to conceal your eyes, and not that theyare necessary for your sight. "

She flushed with annoyance. 

"And if I refuse?"

I shrugged my shoulders. 

"I shall think it very childish of you. "

With a petulance which I had never seen in her she tossed her head. 

"I don't care, at present I will not. "

I frowned but did not speak. This will be discussed between us later. My fighting spirit is up, she _shall_ obey me!

"Did you order the clothes yesterday?"

"Yes. "

"Enough, I hope. "

"Yes. "

"Well, now, I have a suggestion to make which I am sure will please you, and that is that you will appoint some meeting place with Mr. Nelson forTuesday morning, since you do not trust my good taste far enough even tolet me know your home address. Perhaps at the Hotel de Courville, if theDuchesse will permit, and that then we do not meet until the seventh ofNovember at the ceremony. Mr. Nelson will arrange with you all the lawof the thing and what witnesses you must have, and everything, and thiswill save these useless discussions, and give you a little breathingspace. "

This seemed to subdue her, and she agreed less defiantly. 

"And now I will not detain you longer, " I said stiffly. "_Au revoir_until the seventh of November at whatever hour is arranged, or if wemust meet before at the signing of the contract, " and I bowed. 

She bowed also, and walked haughtily to the door, and left. 

And greatly exhilarated, I decided to go and lunch with Maurice at theRitz. 

As I came from the lift, Madame Bizot's daughter came out of theconcierge's lodge with her baby, and it was making its same littlecooing, gurgling noises that caused me so to feel that time when Alatheafirst began to interest me. I stopped and spoke to the mother, a comelyyoung woman, and the little creature put out its tiny hand and claspedone of my fingers, and over me there came a weird thrill. Shall I everhear noises like that, and have a son of Alathea's and mine to take myhand. Well the game of her subjection is interesting enough anyway, andrather ashamed of my emotion, I went on into the Victoria and wascrawled to the Ritz. 

Here I ran into a fellow in the Flying Corps, who told me that Nina'sboy, Johnnie, had been killed the night before, in his first fight witha Boche plane. I do not know that any of the tragedies of the war haveaffected me more. My poor Nina! She really loved her son. I telegraphedto her at once my fondest sympathies, and the thought of her grief wouldnot leave me all the way, war-hardened as I am. 

I did not tell Maurice of my approaching wedding. I have a plan that heshall only know when I ask him to come to the Hotel de Courville to bepresented to my wife. 

The Fluffies have returned from Deauville, and Coralie and Alice joinedus at luncheon. They have the most exquisite new garments, and were fullof sparkle and gaiety. Alice's wedding, to the rich neutral, seemsreally to be coming off. Her air was one of subdued modesty andgentleness, and when I congratulated her she made the tenderestacceptance of it, which would have done justice to a young virgin ofthe _ancien regime_! Coralie met my eye with her shrewd small ones, andwe looked away! After lunch we sat in the hall for a little, Mauricetaking Alice to try on her clothes, so Coralie and I were left alone. 

"You are looking quite well now Nicholas, " she whispered, "Why don't youask me to come and dine with you, at your adorable flat, --alone?"

"You would be bored with me before the evening was over. "

"Arrange it, and try! Always there are the others, except that night atVersailles. There is an air with you Nicholas, --one has forgotten allabout your eye. I have thought and thought of you. --You have interferedwith all my pleasures in life!"

"I am going back to England quite soon, Coralie, won't you come now tothe _rue de la Paix_ and let me buy you a little souvenir of all thelovely times we have had together in the last year?"

So she came, and selected a gem of an opera glass. An opera glass isdiscreet, it can be accepted by anyone; even a woman determined toimpress my mind with her dignity and charm, as Coralie was attempting todo, upon our expedition. She had made up her mind that I should nolonger be just a benefit to the three of them, but her own especialproperty, and she is clever enough to see that I am in a mood to admiredignity and discretion! I spent a most amusing hour with her, enjoyingmyself in the spirit of watching a good play at the _Comedie Français_. At about four o'clock, when we returned to the Ritz, Coralie wasbaffled. I could see that she was keener than ever, and beginning to bea little worried and unsure of herself!

As I drove back to my flat, taking a roundabout way through the Bois, Imused and analysed things. And what is the psychological reason for somepresents being quite correct to give and some not? It all goes back tothe re-creative instinct and through what this manifests itself. Giftswhich have any relation to the body, to give it pleasure, or to decorateit, are the expressions of the sex relationship, and so presumably thesubconscious mind, which only sees the truth in everything, only feelsharmonious when these gifts are given by either parents or relations, asa dower, so to speak, or the husband or prospective husband. Hencethrough the ages, the unconscious relegation of certain presents asacceptable only from certain people. Any present which gives pleasure tothe mind alone is the tribute of friendship, but those to touch the bodyare presumably not. I could give Coralie an opera glass as a mark of myesteem, but a bracelet which she would wear on her arm would haveanother meaning!

Alathea resents every present, those for the body because they suggestmy possession of her, those for the mind because she feels no friendshipfor me at all!

Well, well!

What will she do I wonder during the fortnight of our engagement? I feelthat I can afford to wait with patience and certainty. But the thoughtthat I do not even know my _fiancée's_ address, and that she isresentful and defiant, and rebellious at everything, and yet intends tomarry me, on the seventh of November, is really almost humorous!

And now it behooves me to put my house in order, and map out exactlywhat I mean to do!

XXI

The days go slowly on, my preparations are complete. My good friendNelson arrived on Monday and took charge of the affair. He was entirelyaware of the Bulteel story, it was the great scandal of twenty-fiveyears ago. He expressed no opinion as to my marrying into such a family, but went about the business end with diligence. I made a very nicesettlement upon Alathea, more than he thought was necessary. Then hespoke of arrangements for possible children, and fixed that, too. Iwonder what she will say when she reads that part! I have settled withthe Duchesse, who is entering into the spirit of the thing with herusual delicious whimsical understanding, that some time soon after thewedding she shall ask about ten of our principal mutual friends to comein the afternoon, and she will present Alathea to them, and if anyonemakes comments upon the matter, she will say that she is the daughter ofan old English friend, and even if Coralie recognizes her as the girlwho was with me at Versailles, she will not dare to say a word about anyprotegée of the Duchesse's. She is much too afraid of offending her, being received at the Hotel de Courville herself on sufferance onlybecause of her birth and family. As for Maurice, I can manage him! Now Iam beginning to wonder what Alathea would prefer to do? I don't want tosee her until the ceremony, but I suppose I must. 

The Duchesse has arranged that I should meet my _fiancée_ in hersitting-room and sign the contract there on the day before the wedding, five days from now. Alathea, she tells me is like a frozen image, butfaithful to her promise to me, my dear old friend has not made anycomment or tried to aid matters. I think she rejoices that I shall havesuch an interesting time in the breaking down of the barrier. 

Nina writes heartbrokenly; Johnnie was very dear to her; sorrow seems tohave brought out all that is best in her. She says she feels that shejust drifted along, taking all good and happiness for granted, and notdoing enough for other people, and that now she is going to devote herlife to making Jim happy and contented, and hopes some day, not too faroff, to have another child to care for. Darling old Nina! She always wasthe best sort in the world. 

Of Suzette I have heard nothing, although Burton says he caught sight ofher on the stairs just whisking into the flat above mine, which has beentaken by a lovely actress, a cousin of hers, who has married a richretired Jew _antiquaire_!

There are still possibilities of complications here!

But I feel quite serene, Alathea will be mine. She cannot get away fromme. I can insidiously, from day to day, carry out my plan of winningher, and the tougher the fight is, the more it will be worth whileafterwards!

_November 6th. _

To-day was really wonderful! Mr. Nelson has presumably seen Alathea andher family several times. I have refused to hear anything about it, andhe arrived with her alone at the Hotel de Courville. I had understoodthat her mother was coming with her, but she was ill and did not turnup. 

The Duchesse and I were talking when the two were announced. Alathea wasin a nice little grey frock and had her glasses on. I think she knew theDuchesse would not approve of that camouflage, because there was an airof defiance about her, her rebellious Cupid's bow of a mouth was shutsternly, she was even quite repellant, --she has never attracted me more!

The Duchesse was sweet to her and made no remark about the glasses, butwas called back to the ward almost immediately for a little, and whileshe was gone Mr. Nelson read over the settlement. 

"I think you are giving me a great deal too much, " Alathea saidannoyedly. "I shall feel uncomfortable, --and chained. "

"I intend my wife to have this. " I answered quietly. "So I am afraid youwill have to agree. "

She pulled in her lips but said no more until the part about thechildren came, when she started to her feet, her cheeks crimson. 

"What is this ridiculous clause?" she asked angrily. 

Old Mr. Nelson looked unspeakably shocked. "It is customary in allmarriage settlements, my dear young lady, " he said reprovingly, andAlathea looked at me with suspicion, but she said nothing, and theDuchesse, returning then to the room, all was soon signed, sealed anddelivered! Mr. Nelson withdrew, saying he would call for Miss Bulteelnext day for the wedding. 

When we were alone the Duchesse kissed us both. 

"I hope for your happiness, my children, " she said. "I know you both, and your droll characters, the time will come when you may know eachother, and in any case, I feel that you will both remember that _tenue_, a recognition of correct behaviour, helps all situations in life, andthe rest is in the hands of the _Bon Dieu_. "

Then she left us again, and Alathea sat stiffly down upon anuncompromising little Louis XV _canapé_ out of my reach. I did not moveor speak, indeed I lit a cigarette casually. 

Alathea's face was a study! I watched her lazily. How had I ever thoughther plain? Even in those first days, disguised with the horn spectacles, and the tornback hair, the contour of her little face is so perfectlyoval, and her neck so round and long, but not too long. There is not theleast look of scragginess about her, just extreme slenderness, asmall-boned creature of perhaps five foot four or five, with childishoutline. To-day in the becoming little grey frock, and even with theglasses on she is lovely, perhaps she seems so to me because I now knowthat the glasses are not necessary. The expression of her mouth said, "Am I being tricked? Does the man mean to seize me when he gets mealone? Shall I run away and have done with it?"

She was restless, her old serenity seems to have deserted her. 

"I wanted to ask you, " I began calmly, "What you would like to doimmediately after the wedding. I mean would you prefer that we went toVersailles? The passport business makes everything so difficult, orwould you rather go down to the Riviera? Or just stay at the flat?"

"I don't care in the least, " she replied ungraciously. 

"Then if you don't care, we will stay at the flat, because if I do notinterrupt my treatment I shall be the sooner well to go to England. Haveyou engaged a maid?"

"Yes. "

"You will give orders that your trunks are sent in in the morning, then, and that she has everything ready for you. "

"Very well. "

All this time her face was turned away from me as much as possible. Forone second a fear came to me that after all perhaps it is real hate shehas for me, which will be unsurmountable, and I was impelled to ask her:

"Alathea, do you detest the idea of marrying me so much that you wouldrather break the whole thing?"

She turned and faced me now, and I feel sure blue fire was coming fromthose beautiful eyes, could I have seen them!

"It is not a question of what I would wish or not, nor of my feelings inany way. I am going through with the ceremony, and shall be yourpermanent secretary, because I am under great monetary obligations toyou, and wish for security for my family in the future. You put it to methat you wanted to buy me, and I could name the price--you have overpaidit. I shall not go back upon my promise, only I want to feel perfectlysure that you will expect nothing more of me than what we havearranged. "

"I shall expect nothing more; your sense of the fitness of things willsuggest to you not to make either of us look ridiculous in public byyour being over disagreeable to me, we shall carry on with a semblanceof mutual respect, I hope. "

She bowed. 

The temptation to burst out and tell her of my feelings wasextraordinary. I absolutely trembled with the control it required not torise from my chair and go and take her hands; but I restrained everysign and appeared as indifferent as she is. The Duchesse came back in afew moments and I said I would go. 

I did not even then shake hands with Alathea, and the Duchesse came outinto the passage with me, to see me safe into the lift, she is always sokind to anything crippled. 

"Nicholas, " she whispered, "Her manner to you is very cruel, but do notbe discouraged!--I feel that it is more promising than if she were kind. She has also had a dreadful time with the father, who has now beentransferred to the _poste_ in the desert in Africa. One must hope forgood, and her poor mother is going off to Hyères with little Hilda andtheir faithful old maid, the only servant they had, so after the weddingyou will have your bride all to yourself!"

"Perhaps the thought of that is what is making her so reluctant and icyto-day!"

The Duchesse laughed as she handed me my crutch and closed the liftdoor. "Time will tell, my son!" and she waved her hand as I disappearedbelow. 

And now I am alone before the crackling fire in my sitting-room, --and Iwonder how many men have spent the eve of their marriages in so quiet amanner? I feel no excitement even. I have re-read this journal, it is apretty poor literary effort, but it does chronicle my emotions, and thegradual growing influence Alathea has been exercising upon me. Byputting down what happens between us each day like this, I can thenreview progress once a week, and can take stock of little shades whichwould not be remembered otherwise. 

 * * * * *

At that moment the telephone rang, and George Harcourt asked if he mightcome round and smoke a cigar. 

"Your pre-war ones are so good, Nicholas, " he said. He was in at theRitz, from Versailles, for the night. 

I answered "Yes. " I like to talk to old George, I don't know why I callhim old always, he is forty-eight perhaps, and absolutely wellpreserved, and women love him passionately, more perhaps than when hewas young. 

When we were settled in two comfortable arm chairs before the fire, heheld forth as usual. He had arranged the affairs of Bobby Bulteel onlyin the nick of time. "I have all the receipts, Nicholas, to hand toyou, " he said. 

"The wretched creature was overcome with gratitude. We had a long chat, and he plans to clear out and start life afresh in the Argentine as soonas War is over and he can be released from his commission. He is boundto end in hell with his temperament, but it won't matter so long as poorLady Hilda is not dragged down too. He agreed to leave the family hereunmolested now, and not return for years to them, when he does retirefrom the army. "

Then I told my old friend that I intended to marry the daughter on themorrow. He was very surprised. 

"I could not imagine what your interest could be, Nicholas, unless ithad something to do with a woman, but where did you ever meet the girl, my dear boy?"

I explained. 

"You might come to the wedding, George, " I said. 

[Illustration: Alathea (Harriet Hammond) realizes that Suzette (ReneeAdoree) is the only woman that stands between her and the love of SirNicholas (Lew Cody). (A scene from Elinor Glyn's production "Man andMaid" for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer)]

He promised he would, then he smoked for a minute or two in silence. "Pretty terrible thing, marriage, " and he puffed blue rings with perfectprecision. "I have never been able to face it. What has made you slipinto the mesh?"

"Because I think I have found someone who will be a good companion andnot bore me. "

"You are not in love then? It is a sensible arrangement, and in that wayyou have a chance of happiness; also the girl has had a hard life, andmay be grateful for comfort and kindness. "

"What do you suppose men really want, George?"

"The continuous stimulation of the hunting instinct, of course. It issatiety which kills everything, but what a small percentage of womenknow how to keep it alive, on the mental side!"

I waited for him to go on. 

"You see, dear boy, love which is only the camouflaged aspect of thecreative instinct, cannot really hold, but a clever woman acts as a spurto the mind, keeps it hunting in the abstract, as well as gratifying, not too generously, the physical desires. Unfortunately it has neverbeen my good fortune to encounter such a being, so I have never beenable to remain faithful. You are very much in luck if Bobby's girl showsintelligence. She ought to be a remarkable creature because she was bornat the white heat of passion on both parents' side, and self-sacrificeand devotion added on the mother's. "

"She is, George. "

"My best wishes, Nicholas. I think you are wise, probably wounded asyou are, it will be nice for you to have an agreeable companion, " and hesighed. 

"You have quite finished with Violetta?"

"Now that is the odd part, " and he actually removed his cigar from hislips. "I thought I had, but when I went to see her with the certainintention of deceiving her and backing out gracefully, --that vixenCarmencita was drawing me so strongly!--I found Violetta quite tranquil. She said she had realized that I was cooling off, and her rule was tohold nothing which did not wish to stay, so she was quite prepared topart from me. She was very tender, she looked beautiful, and you knowwhen it came to saying farewell, I found myself quite unable to do so! Ihad prepared a lot of lies about my not being justified in giving thetime from my work, but before I could tell them Violetta had forestalledme by assuring me that she knew I must really stick closer to my office, and she would no longer expect much of my company. You know, Nicholas, Isuddenly found her charm renewed tenfold, and I could only congratulatemyself upon the fact that the affair with Carmencita had not gone farenough to amount to anything, and now I am in pursuit of Violetta again, and 'pon my soul, Nicholas, if she only keeps me wondering, I believe Ishall be really in love!"

"Shall you marry, George?"

He looked almost bashful. 

"It is just possible, --Violetta is a widow. "

Then our eyes met and we both laughed aloud. 

"You can contemplate happiness, George with your widow, because you feelthat she now knows how to handle you, and I contemplate happiness withmy little girl, because I respect her character and adore every inch ofher, and by Jove! old man, I believe we shall both get what we arelooking for!"

Then our talk drifted to politics and the war, and it was just aboutmidnight before old George left, and when he had gone I opened thewindow wide, and looked out on the night, there was a half moon almostset, and the air was still, and very warm for the beginning of November. There are nights like that, mysterious and electric when all sorts ofstrange forces seem to be abroad. And something of romance in me exaltedmy spirit, and I found myself saying a prayer that I might be true to mytrust, and have strength enough of will to wait patiently until myAlathea comes voluntarily into my arms. 

And how I wonder what she is thinking about, there at Auteuil?

I went along into the room which is to be hers to-morrow, and I saw thatit was all arranged, except the flowers, which would come in fresh inthe morning. And then I hobbled back to my own room and rang for Burton. The faithful creature waits for me no matter how late I am. 

When I was safely in bed, he came over to me, and his dear old faceshowed emotion. 

"I do indeed wish you happiness, Sir Nicholas, to-morrow will be thebest day of my life. "

We shook hands silently, and he left me, still writing in this journal!

I feel no excitement, rather as if another act in the drama of life wasended, that is all, and that to-morrow I am starting upon a new onewhich will decide whether the end of the play shall be tragedy orcontent?

XXII

I am not going to describe the wedding in this Journal. A civil ceremonyis not interesting in its baldness. I had literally no emotions, andAlathea looked as pale as her white frock. She wore a little sable toqueand a big sable cloak I had sent her the night before, by Nelson. Thering was the new diamond hoop set in platinum. No more gold fetters formodern girls!

Old George and Mr. Nelson were our witnesses, and the whole thing wasover in a few minutes, and we were being congratulated. Burton was byfar the happiest face there, as he helped me into the automobile, lentby the Embassy. Alathea had just shaken hands with Mr. Nelson and beenwished joy by George. I wonder what he thought of the glasses, whicheven for the wedding she had not taken off!

"May you know every happiness, Lady Thormonde, " he said. "Take care ofNicholas and make him quite well, he is the best fellow on earth. "

Alathea thanked him coldly. He is such a citizen of the world that heshowed no surprise, and finally we were off on our way to the flat. 

Here Madame Bizot and her daughter, and the baby, awaited us! And in thecreature's tiny hand was a bunch of violets. This was the first timeAlathea smiled. She bent and kissed the wee face. These people know andlove her. I stayed behind a few moments to express my substantialappreciation of their friendly interest. Burton had been beside thechauffeur to help me in and out, and while we had been driving Alatheahad not spoken a word. She had turned from me, and her little body wasdrawn back as far in the corner as possible. 

My own emotions were queer. I did not feel actually excited. I felt justas I used when we were going to take up a new position on the line wheregreat watchfulness would be necessary to succeed. 

The maid Alathea had engaged arrived in the morning, and I had had theloveliest flowers put in all the rooms. Pierre intended to outdo himselffor the wedding _déjeuner_, I knew, and Burton had been able to findsomewhere a really respectable looking footman, not too obviouslywounded. 

Alathea handed me my crutch as we got out of the lift. Perhaps shethinks this is going to be one of her new duties!

We went straight into the sitting-room and I sat down in my chair. Hermaid, named Henriette, had taken her cloak and hat in the hall, and Isuppose from sheer nervousness, and to cover the first awkward moments, Alathea buried her face in the big bowl of roses on a table near anotherarm chair, before she sat down in it. 

"What lovely flowers!" she said. They were the first words she hadspoken to me directly. 

"I wondered what would be your favorites. You must tell me for thefuture. I just had roses because they happen to be mine. "

"I like roses best too. "

I was silent for quite two minutes. She tried to keep still, then Ispoke, and I could hear a tone of authority in my voice. 

"Alathea, again I ask you please to remove your glasses, as I told youbefore, I know that you wear them only so that I may not see your eyes, not for sight or light or anything. To keep them on is a littleundignified and ridiculous now, and irritates me very much. "

She colored and straightened herself. 

"To remove my glasses was not part of the bargain. You should have madeit a condition if you had wanted to impose it. I do not admit that youhave the least right to ask me to take them off, and I prefer to wearthem. "

"For what possible reason?"

"I will not tell you. "

I felt my temper rising. If I had not been a cripple I could not haveresisted the temptation to rise and seize her in my arms, tear the d----d things off! and punish her with a thousand kisses. As it was, I feltan inward rage. What a fool I had been not to have actually made theremoval of them a _sine qua non_ before I signed the contract!

"It is very ungenerous of you, and shows a spirit of hostility which Ithink we agreed that you would drop. "

Silence. 

The desire to punish her physically, beat her, make her obey me, was theonly thing I felt. A nice emotion for a wedding day!

"Do you mean to wear them all the time, even when we go out in theworld?" I asked when I could control my voice. 

"Probably. "

"Very well then, I consider you are breaking the bargain in spirit, ifnot in the letter. You, yourself, said you were going to be my permanentsecretary--no secretary in the world would insist upon doing somethingshe knew to be a great irritation to her employer. "

Silence. 

"You are only lowering yourself in my estimation by showing thisobstinacy. Since we have now to live together, I would rather not haveto grow to despise you for childishness. "

She started to her feet, and with violence threw the glasses on to thetable. Her beautiful eyes flashed at me; the lashes are that peculiarcurly kind, not black, but soft and dusky, a little lighter near theskin. It is the first time I have ever seen such eyelashes on a woman'slids. One sees them quite often on little boys, especially littlevagabonds in the street. The eyes themselves are intensely blue, andwith everything of passion and magnetism, and attraction, in them. It isno wonder she wore glasses while having to face the world by herself! Awoman with eyes like that would not be safe alone in any avocation wheremen could observe her. I have never seen such expressive, fascinatingeyes in my life. I thrilled in every fibre of my being, and with triumphalso to think that our first battle should be won!

"Thank you, " I said, making my voice very calm. "I had grown so torespect your balance and serenity, I should have been sorry to have tochange my opinion. "

I could see that she was palpitating with fury at having been made toobey. I felt it wise to turn the conversation. 

"I suppose lunch will be ready soon. "

She went towards the door then, and left me. I wondered what she wouldsay when she got to her room and found the three sapphire bangleswaiting for her on the dressing table!

I had written on a card inside the lid of the box:

"To Alathea with her husband's best wishes. "

Burton announced lunch before she returned to the sitting-room. I senthim to say that it was ready, and a moment after she came in. She hadthe case in her hand which she put down on the table, and her cheekswere very pink, her eyes she kept lowered. 

"I wish you would not give me presents, " she gasped a littlebreathlessly, coming close up to my chair. "I do not care to receivethem, you have loaded me with things--the sables, the diamond ring, theclothes, everything, and now these. "

I took the case and opened it, removing the bangles. 

"Give me your wrist, " I said sternly. 

She looked at me too surprised at my tone to speak. 

I put out my hand and took her bare arm, her sleeves were to the elbows, and I deliberately put the three bracelets on while she stood petrified. 

"I have had enough of your disagreeable temper, " I said in the samevoice. "You will wear these, and anything else I choose to give you, though your rudeness will soon remove my desire to give you anything. "

She was absolutely flabbergasted, but I had touched her pride. 

"I apologize if I have seemed rude, " she said at last. "I--suppose youhave the right really--only--" And her whole slender body quivered witha wave of rebellion. 

"Let us say no more about the matter, but go into lunch, only you willfind that I am not such a weakling, as you no doubt supposed you wouldhave to deal with. " I hobbled up from my chair, Burton discreetly nothaving entered the room. Alathea gave me my crutch, and we went in tothe dining-room. 

While the servants were in there I led the conversation upon the warnews, and ordinary subjects, and she played the game, but when we werealone with the coffee, I filled her glass with Benedictine, which shehad refused when Burton handed the liqueurs. She had taken no wine atall. 

"Now drink whatever toast you like, " I told her. "I am going to drinkone to the time when you don't hate me so much and we can have a littlequiet friendship and peace. "

She sipped her glass, and her eyes became inscrutable. What she wasthinking of I do not know. 

I find myself watching those eyes all the time. Every reflection passesthrough them, they are as expressive of all shades of emotion as theeyes of a cat, though the beautiful Madonna tenderness I have never seenagain since the day when she held the child in her arms, and I was rudeto her. 

When we went back into the salon I knew that I was passionately in lovewith her. Her restiveness is absolutely alluring, and excites all myhunting instinct. She looks quite lovely, and the subtle magnetism whichdrew me the first days, even when she appeared poor and shabby, and redof hand, is stronger than ever--I felt that I wanted to crush her in myarms and devour her, the blood thumped in my temples, I had to use everyatom of my will with myself, and lay back in my chair and closed my eye. 

She went straight to the piano and began to play. It seemed as thoughshe were talking, telling me of the passion in her soul. She playedweird Russian dances and crashed agonizing chords, then she playedlaments, and finally a soft and soothing thing of McDowell's, and everynote had found an echo in me, and I had followed, it almost seemed, allher pain. 

"You play divinely, child, " I said, when she had finished. "I am goingto rest now, will you give me some tea later on?"

"Yes, " and her voice was quite meek, while she helped me with mycrutch, and I went to the door of my room. 

"I would like you to wear nice soft teagowns. My eye gets so weariedwith everything bright after a while. I hope--you have got all you want, and that your room is comfortable?"

"Yes, thanks. "

I bowed and went on into my room and shut the door. Burton was waitingto help me to lie down. 

"It has been a very tiring day for you, Sir Nicholas, " he said, "and forher Ladyship also. "

"Go and have a rest yourself, Burton, you have been up since cock crow, the new man Antoine can call me at five. " And soon I was in a land ofblissful dreams. 

Of course it was the very irony of fate that Suzette should haveselected this very afternoon to come in and thank me for the Villa whichshe was just now going down to see--!

Antoine opened the door to her while Burton was out. I heard afterwardsthat she told him she had an appointment with me when he had hesitatedabout letting her in. She was quite quietly dressed and had no greatlook of the _demi-monde_, and a new footman, blunted with war service, was probably impervious even to the very strong scent which she wassaturated with--that perfume which I had never been able entirely tocure her liking for, and which she reverted to using always when shewent away from me, and had to be corrected of again and again when shereturned. 

Antoine came to my room by the passage, and said "a lady was in thesalon to see me by appointment. "

For a moment I was not suspicious. I thought it might be Coralie, andfearing Alathea might be somewhere about, and it might be awkward forher, I hastened to rise and go in to see and get rid of the inopportuneguest. I told Antoine he must never let anyone in again withoutpermission. 

It was just growing dim in the salon, about half-past four o'clock, anda figure rose from the sofa by the fire as I entered. 

"_Mon chou--mon petit cheri_!" I heard, simultaneously with a softlyclosing sound of the door behind the screen, which masks the entrance tothe room from the hall--Antoine leaving I supposed at the time, probablyit was Alathea I surmised afterwards!

"Suzette!" I exclaimed angrily. "Why do you come here?"

She flew to me and held out her arms, expressing affection and gratefulthanks. She had come for no other reason only just to express herfriendly appreciation! To get rid of her was all I desired. I never wasmore angry, but to show it would have been the poorest game. I did nottell her it was my wedding day. I just said I was expecting somerelatives, and that I knew she would understand and would go at once. 

"Of course, " she said, and shook me by the hand. I was still standingwith my crutch. She was passing to see her cousin Madame Angier, in theflat above, and could not resist the temptation to come in. 

"It must be the very last time, Suzette, " I said. "I have given you allthat you wanted, and I would rather not see you again. "

She pouted, but agreed, and I drew her to the door and saw her into thecorridor, and even followed her to the front door. She was chatting allthe time. I did not answer. I was speechless with rage, and could havesworn aloud, when at last I heard the door shut between us, then Istrode back into my room, praying that Alathea _had_ been unaware of myvisitor. 

Nemesis, on one's wedding day!

I waited until five and then went back into the sitting-room to mychair, and Antoine brought in the tea, and turned on the lights, and amoment or two afterwards Alathea came in. Her eyes were stony, and asshe advanced up the room she sniffed the air disgustedly, her finenostrils quivering. Suzette's pungent perfume was no doubt still presentto one coming from outside!

Hauteur, contempt and disgust, expressed themselves in my littledarling's blue eyes. There was nothing to be said--_qui s'excuses'accuse--!_

She wore a soft lavender frock, and was utterly delectable, and when Ireflected that but for this impassable barrier, which my own action inthe past had been the means of erecting between us, I might now havemade her love me, and that on this, our wedding day, she might have beencoming into my arms. I could have groaned aloud. 

"May I open the window, " she said with the air of an offended Empress. 

"Yes, do, open it wide, " and then I laughed aloud cynically. I could aseasily have cried. 

Alathea would not of course have spoken about her suspicions, to do sowould have inferred that she took an interest in me beyond that of asecretary; every impression she always has given me is that nothing inmy life can matter to her one jot. But I know that this affair ofSuzette does matter to her, that she resents it bitterly, that it is thecause of her smouldering anger with me. She resents it because she is awoman, and, how I wish I might believe that it is because she is not asindifferent towards me as she pretends. 

She poured out the tea. I expect my face looked like the devil, I didnot speak, I knew I was frowning angrily. A rising wind blew the curtainout and banged the window. She got up and shut it, then she threw somecedar dust on the fire from the box which it is kept in on a table near. She had seen Burton do this no doubt. I love the smell of cedar burning. 

Then she came back and poured out the tea and we both drank it silently. 

The room looked so comfortable and home like, with its panelling of oldpitch pine, cleaned of its paint and mellowed and waxed, so that itseems like deep amber, showing up the greyish pear-wood carvings. Onemight have been in some room in old England of about 1699. Everythinglooked the setting for a love scene. The glowing lamps, apricot shaded, and the firelight, and the yellow roses everywhere, and two humanbeings who belonged to one another and were young, and not cold ofnature, sitting there with faces of stone, and in each one's heartbitterness. Again I laughed aloud. 

The mocking sound seemed to disturb my bride. She allowed her tea cup torattle as she put it down nervously. 

"Would you like me to read to you, " she asked icily. 

And I said "Yes. "

And presently her beautiful cultivated voice was flowing along. It wasan article in the _Saturday Review_ she had picked up, and I did nottake in what it was about. I was gazing into the glowing logs, andtrying to see visions, and gain any inspiration of how to find a way outof this tangle of false impression. I must wait and see, and endeavorwhen we get more accustomed to one another--somehow to let Alathea knowthe truth. 

When she finished the pages she stopped. 

"I think he is quite right, " she said, but I had not heard what theargument was, so I could only say "Yes!"

"Will it interest you going to England?" I then asked. 

"I dare say. "

"I have a place there you know. Shall you care to live in it after thewar is over?"

"I believe it is the duty of people to live in their homes if they haveinherited them as a trust. "

"And I can always count upon you to do your duty. "

"I hope so. "

Then I exerted myself and talked to her about politics and what were myviews and aims. She entered into this stiffly, and so an hour passed, but all the time I could feel that her inner self was disturbed, andmore resentful and rebellious than ever. We had been two puppets makingconversation all the time, neither had said anything naturally. 

At last the pretense ended, and we went to our separate rooms to dressfor dinner. 

Burton had returned by now, and I told him of the detestable thing whichhad happened, at which he was much concerned. 

"Best of her sort was Mam'zelle, Sir Nicholas, but I've always said theybring trouble, every one of them, --if I may make so bold!"

And as I hobbled back into the salon to meet my wife for our firstdinner alone, once more I heartily agreed with him!

XXIII

Alathea looked perfectly lovely when she came into the salon dressed fordinner. It is the first time I have seen her in anything pertaining tothe evening. She had a gauzy tea-gown on, of a shade of blue like hereyes. Her nut brown hair was beautifully done, with the last "look" likeCoralie's, showing her tiny head. Whether she likes it or no, I mustgive her some pearl earrings, and my mother's pearls. That will be amoment! But I had better wait a little while. Her eyes were shining withexcitement or resentment, or a mixture of both. She was purely feminine. She intended to attract me I am certain, her subconscious mind did atall events, even though she would not have admitted it to herself. Shewas smarting still about Suzette. The situation fills her with distrustand uneasiness, but I know now, after analysing every point, when Icould not sleep last night, that she is not really indifferent to me. And it is because she is not, that she is angry. 

I registered a vow that I would _make_ her love me without explainingabout Suzette, fate can let her find out for herself. 

I had not come to the comforting conclusion that she is not indifferentat the beginning of the evening though, so the sense of self-confidenceand triumph did not uplift me then. I was still worried at the eventsof the afternoon. 

I had troubled to put on a tail coat and white waistcoat, not a dinnerjacket as usual, and had even a buttonhole of a gardenia, found byBurton for this great occasion!

I looked into her eyes with my one blue one, which is I suppose, as blueas her own. She instantly averted her glance. 

"I cannot offer you my arm, milady, " I said rather sarcastically, "So wewill have to go in after each other. "

She bowed and led the way. 

The table was too beautifully decorated, and the dinner a masterpiece!while the champagne was iced to perfection, and the Burgundy a poem! Thepupils of Alathea's eyes before the partridge came, were black as night. Burton discreetly marshalled Antoine out of the room each time after thedishes were handed. 

"When will you get your new eye?" my wife--I like to write that!--askedin the first interval when we were alone, "and your new leg?"

"I suppose they will both be restored to me in a day or two. It will beso wonderful to walk again. "

"I should think so. "

Then something seemed to strike her suddenly, of how hateful it must allhave been for me. Her hard expression changed and she almost whispered:

"It--will seem like a new life. "

"I mean to make a new life, if you will help me. I want to get away fromall the old useless days. I want to do things which are worth while. "

"Shall you soon go into Parliament?"

"I suppose it will take a year or two, but we shall begin to pave theway directly we go back to England, and I hope that will be forChristmas. "

She avoided looking at me. I could never catch her eye, but her adorablelittle profile was good enough to contemplate, the crisp curl by her eardelighted me, and another in the nape of her neck filled me with wildlongings to kiss it, and the pearly skin beneath it!

I think I deserve great praise for the way I acted, for the whole thingwas acting. I was cold, and as haughty and aloof as she was herself, butI used every art I knew of to draw her out and make her talk. 

She is such a lady that she fell into the stride and spoke politely asif to some stranger who had taken her into dinner at a party. 

At last we talked of the Duchesse, and we discussed her interestingcharacter, such a marvel of the _ancien régime_!

"She is so very good and charitable, " Alathea said, "and has always atwinkle in her eye which carries her through things. "

"You laugh sometimes, too?" I asked with assumed surprise. "That isdelightful! I adore the 'twinkle in the eye, ' but I was afraid you wouldnever unbend far enough so that we could laugh together!"

I think this offended her. 

"Life would be impossible without a sense of humor, even if it is a grimone. "

"Well, nothing need be grim any more, and we can both smile at therather absurd situation between us, which, however, suits us bothadmirably. You will never interfere with me, or I with you. "

"No--" There was a tone in this which let me feel that her thoughts hadharked back to Suzette. 

"The Duchesse is going to have a little tea party for us on Saturday, you know, so that you may be introduced as my wife. "

Alathea became embarrassed at once. 

"Will people know my real name?"

"No--we shall tell no stories, but we shall not be communicative. Youwill be introduced as an old English friend of the Duchesse's. "

She looked at me for an instant and there was gratitude in herexpression. 

"Alathea, I want you to forget all about the troubles which must haveclouded your life. They are all over now, and some day, perhaps you willintroduce me to your mother and little sister. "

"I will, of course when they come back from the South. My mother hasoften been so ill. "

"I want you to feel that I would do anything for them. Are you sure theyhave all they want?"

She protested. 

"Indeed--yes, far more. You have given too much already. "

She raised her head with that indescribable little gesture of hauteur, which becomes her so beautifully. I could read her mind. It said, "Iloathe receiving anything from him, with that woman in the background!"

When we went into the salon I wondered what she would do. I did notspeak. She took my crutch and shook up my cushion, taking great care notto touch me. I could not look up. I knew that a powerful electriccurrent would pass from my eye to hers, if I did, and that she would seethat I was only longing to take her to my heart. 

I remained silent and gazed into the fire. She sat down quietly on thesofa at the side, so that I would have to turn my head to look at her. Thus we remained for quite five minutes, speechless. The air throbbedwith emotion. I dared not move. 

At last she said, "Would you care that I should read to you again, orplay?"

"Play for a little. " My voice was chilly. I was quite determined theiciness should come from me first, not her, for a few days. 

She went to the piano, and she began the Debussy she had played thatafternoon when I had first asked her to play--I never can remember itsname--and when she had finished she stopped. 

"What made you play that now?" I asked. 

"I felt like it. "

"It wrenches my nerves. What makes you feel all unrestful and rebelliousand defiant, Alathea, am I not keeping the bargain?"

"Yes, of course. "

"You are bored to death then?"

"No, I am wondering. "

"Wondering what?"

She did not answer. I could not see her without getting up out of mychair. 

"Please come here, " I asked in an indifferent cold voice. "You know itis so difficult for me to move. "

She came back and sat down upon the sofa again. The light of the apricotlamp fell softly on her hair. 

"Now tell me about what you were wondering. "

Her mouth grew stubborn and she did not speak. 

"It is so unlike you to do these very female things, beginning sentencesand not going on. I never saw anyone so changed; once I looked upon youas the model for all that was balanced, and unlike your sex. It was Iwho used to feel nervous and ineffectual, now, ever since we have beenengaged, you seem to be disturbed, and to have lost your serenity. Don'tyou think as it is the first evening that we are alone together that itwould be a wise thing to try and get at each other's point of view? Tellme the truth Alathea, what has caused the alteration in you?"

Now she looked straight at me, and there was defiance in her expressiveeyes. 

"That is just what I was wondering about. It is true, I seem to havelost my serenity, I am self-conscious--I am conscious of you. "

A delicious sensation of joy flowed through me, and the feeling oftriumph began which is with me still. If she is conscious of me--!

"Do you mind if I smoke?" I asked with complete casualness to hide myemotions. She shook her head, and I lit a cigarette. 

"You were uneasy because you did not trust me, you thought underneaththere might be some trap, and that I would seize you once you belongedto me. There was a moment when I might have felt inclined to do so, though I would never have broken my word, but you have cured me of allthat, and there is nothing to prevent our being quite goodacquaintances, --even if your prejudice does not ever allow you to befriends. "

For a second a blank look came into her expression. I was banking on myknowledge of the psychology of a human mind, the predatory instinct mustinevitably be aroused in her by my attitude of indifference, if I canonly act well enough and keep it up! I should certainly win in a fairlyshort space of time. But she is so attractive, I do not yet know if Ishall have the strength of mind to do so. 

"Are you not going to give me some regular work to do each day?" sheasked with a tone of mock respect in her voice. "None of the lettershave been answered lately, or the bills paid. "

"Yes. I scrambled through them all myself while I was waiting, but ifyou will look over the book again, we might finally send it to apublisher. "

"Very well. "

"I don't want you to feel that you have ever to stay in or do any workyou don't feel inclined for. We shall have lots of time, for the rest ofour lives. No doubt to-morrow you would wish to spend with your mother, if she is going away. "

"I said good-bye to her this morning. There is no need for me to goback. I came prepared to stay. Unless of course you would rather bealone, then I can go out for a walk. " This last with a peculiar tone inthe words. 

"Naturally you will want to go for walks, and drives, and shopping. Youdon't imagine that I shall expect you to be a prisoner, just waiting onmy beck and call!"

"Yes, that is how I took the bargain. It is quite unfair otherwise. I amhere as a paid dependant and receiving really too high wages for anypossible work I can give in return. I would not have entered into itotherwise or on any other terms. I loathe to receive favors. "

"Madame Lucifer!"

She flashed blue sparks at me!

"I am not forced to command you to work you know, " I went on "that isnot part of the bargain, the bargain is entirely concerned with my notasking _you_ to give me any favors, personal favors, like affection, orcaresses, etcetera, or that I shall ever expect you to be really mywife. "

She frowned. 

"Well, you may put your mind entirely at rest, you have been so awfullydisagreeable to me for so long, ever since we were at Versailles in thesummer, that you don't attract me at all now, except your intellect andyour playing. So if you will talk sometimes and play sometimes, thatwill be all right. I don't desire anything else. Now, assured aboutthis, can't you be at ease and restful again?"

I know why she wore glasses. She cannot control the expression of hereyes! The pupils dilate and contract and tell one wonderful things! Iknow that this attitude of mine is having a powerful effect upon her, the feminine in her hates to feel that she has lost power over me--evenover my senses. I could have laughed aloud, I was so pleased with mysuccess, but I did not dare to look at her much, or I could never havekept the game up. She was more delectable than I can ever describe. 

"It would interest me so much to know why your hands used to be so red, "I asked after a little pause. "They are getting so much whiter now. "

"I had work to do, dishes to wash, our old nurse was too ill, as well asmy mother, and my little brother then--" there was a break in her softvoice. "I do not like red hands any more than you do. They distressedmy father always. I will try to take care of them now. "

"Yes--do. "

The evening post had come in, and been put by Burton discreetly on aside table. He naturally thought such mundane things could not interestme on my wedding night. I caught sight of the little pile and askedAlathea to bring them to me. 

She did. One from Coralie was lying on top and one immediately under itfrom Solonge de Clerté! Alathea saw that they were both in femalewriting. The rest were bills and business. 

"Do you permit me to open them?" I asked punctiliously. 

"Of course, " and she reddened. "Are you not master here? How absurd toask me!"

"It is not; you are Lady Thormonde, even if you are not my wife, andhave a right to courtesy. "

She shrugged her shoulders. 

"Why did you put--'To Alathea from her husband' on the bracelets? Youare 'Sir Nicholas' and not my husband. "

"It was a _bêtise_, a slip of the pen; I admit you are right, " andindifferently I opened Coralie's effusion, smiling over it. I put up myhand as if to shade my eye, and looked at Alathea through the fingers. She was watching me with an expression of slightly anxious interest. Icould almost have believed that she was _jealous_!

My triumph increased. 

I removed my hand and appeared only to be intent upon Coralie's letter. 

"Perhaps we each have friends which might bore the other, so when youwant to have parties tell me, and I will arrange to go out, and when Iwant to, I will tell you. In that way we can never have any jars. "

"Thank you, but I have no friends except the Duchesse, or very humblepeople who don't want to come to parties. "

"But you will be making plenty of new friends now. I have some which youwill meet out in the world which I daresay you won't care about, andsome who come and dine with me sometimes, who probably you woulddislike. "

"Yes, --I know. "

"How do you know?" I asked innocently, affecting surprise. 

"I used to hear them when I was typing. "

I smiled. I did not defend them. 

"If you should chance to meet, would you be civil to them?"

"Of course, 'Coralie, ' 'Odette, ' and 'Alice, ' the Duchesse has oftendescribed them all! It was 'Coralie' who came to talk to you atVersailles in the park, was it not?"

Her voice was contemptuously amused and indifferent, but her littlenostrils quivered. Underneath she was disturbed I knew. 

"Yes, Coralie is charming, she knows more about how to put clothes onbecomingly than any other woman. "

"Do they dine often? Because I could perhaps arrange to go and have mymusic lesson with Monsieur Trani on those evenings, twice a week oroftener?"

"You would refuse to meet them?" I pretended to be annoyed. 

"Certainly not, one does not do ridiculous things like that. I will meetwhoever you wish. I only thought it might spoil your pleasure if I werethere, unless of course you have told them that I am only a permanentsecretary masquerading under the name of your wife--so that they neednot restrain themselves. "

Her face had become inscrutable. She was quite calm now. I grewuncertain again for a moment. Had I carried the bluff far enough?

"They have all quite charming manners, but as you infer they might notbe so amused to come to the dinner of a married man. I think the lastpart of your speech was rather a reflection upon my sense of being agentleman though. I of course have not informed anyone of our quaintrelations. --But remember you told me once you did not think I was agentleman, so I must not be offended now. "

She did not speak, she was looking down and her eyelashes made a shadowon her cheeks. Her mouth was sad. 

Suddenly something pathetic about her touched me. She is such a gallantlittle fighter. She has had such an ugly cruel life, and Oh! God she isgrowing to love me, and soon shall I be able to tell her that I worshipthe ground she walks on, and appreciate her proud spirit and greatself-respect? But I cannot chance anything. I must go on and follow whatI know to be sound psychological reasoning. 

I felt my will weakening then, she looked so perfectly exquisite therein the corner of the sofa. We were alone. --It was nearly ten o'clock atnight, the flowers were scenting the air, the lights were soft, thedinner had been perfection. After all I am a man, and she legallybelongs to me. I felt the blood rushing wildly in my veins. I had toclench my hands and shut my eye. 

"I expect you are tired now, " I said a little breathlessly. "So I willsay good-night--Milady, and hope that you will sleep well the firstnight in your new home. "

I got up and she came forward quickly to hand me my crutch. 

"Good-night, " she whispered quite low, but she never looked at me, thenshe turned and went slowly from the room, never glancing back. And whenshe had gone instead of going to bed I once more sank into my chair. Ifelt queerly faint, my nerves are not sound yet I expect. 

Well, what a strange wedding night!

Burton's face was a mask when he came to undress me. Among the manystrange scenes he has witnessed and assisted at, after forty yearsspent in ministering to the caprices of the aristocracy, I believe hethinks this is the strangest!

When I was in bed and he was about to go, I suddenly went into a peal ofbitter laughter. He stopped near the door. 

"Beg pardon, Sir Nicholas?" he said as though I had called to him. 

"Aren't women the weirdest things in the world, Burton!"

"They are indeed, Sir Nicholas, " and he smiled. "One and all, fromMam'zelle to ladies like her Ladyship, they do like to feel that a manbelongs to themselves. "

"You think that is it, Burton?"

"Not a doubt of it, Sir Nicholas. "

"How do you know them so well, never having married, you old scallywag!"

"Perhaps that's why, Sir. A married man looses his spirit like--and hisbeing able to see!"

"I seem lonely, don't I Burton, " and I laughed again. 

"You do, Sir Nicholas, but if I may make so bold as to say so, I don'tthink you will be so very long. Her Ladyship sent out for a cup of teadirectly she got to her room. "

And with an indescribable look of blank innocence in his dear old eyes, this philosopher, and profound student of women, respectfully left theroom!

XXIV

The day after my marriage I did not come into the salon until justbefore luncheon, at half-past twelve o'clock. My bride was not there. 

"Her Ladyship has gone out walking, Sir Nicholas, " Burton informed me ashe settled me in my chair. 

I took up a book which was lying upon the table. It was a volume ofLaurence Hope's "Last Poems. " It may have come in a batch of newpublications sent in a day or two ago, but I had not remarked it. It wasnot cut all through, but someone had cut it up to the 86th page and hadevidently paused to read a poem called "Listen Beloved, " the paper knifelay between the leaves. Whoever it was must have read it over and over, for the book opened easily there, and one verse struck me forcibly:

 "Sometimes I think my longing soul remembers A previous love to which it aims and strives, As if this fire of ours were but the embers Of some wild flame burnt out in former lives. Perchance in earlier days I _did_ attain That which I seek for now, so all in vain. Maybe my soul and thine were fused and wed In some great night, long since dissolved and dead. "

And then my eye travelled on to the bottom of the page. 

 "Or has my spirit a divine prevision Of vast vague passions stored in days to be When some strong souls shall conquer their division And two shall be as one eternally. "

We are both strong souls, shall we have the strength to conquer outsidethings and be really "one eternally"?

Alathea must have been looking at this not an hour or more ago, what didit make her think of, I wonder?

I determined to ask her to read the whole poem presently, when we shouldbe sitting together in the afternoon. 

It had come on to rain and was a wretched dismal day, I wondered whyAlathea had gone out. Probably she is as restless as I am, and beingfree to move, she can express her mood in rapid walking!

I began to plan my course of action. 

To go on disturbing her as much as possible--

To give her the impression that I once thought her perfection, but thatshe herself has disillusioned me, and that I am indifferent to her now. 

That I am cynical, but am amused to discuss love in the abstract. 

That I have friends who divert me, and that I really only want her to bea secretary and companion, and that any interest I may show in her ismerely for my own vanity, because she is, to the world, my wife!

If I can only keep this up, and not soften should I see her distressed, and not weaken or give the show away, I must inevitably win the game, perhaps sooner than I dare hope!

I felt glad she had not been there, so that I could pull myselftogether, and put my armour on, so to speak, before we met. 

I heard her come in just before luncheon and go to her room, and thenshe came on to the sitting-room without her hat. 

Her taste is as good as Coralie's, probably her new clothes come fromthe same place, she appeared adorable, and now that I can observe her atleisure, she seems extremely young, --the childish outline, and theperfect curve of the little cheek! She does not look over eighteen yearsold, in spite of the firm mouth and serene manner. 

I had the poems in my hand. 

"I see you have been reading these, " I remarked after we had given eachother a cold good-morning. 

The pupils of her eyes contracted for a second, she was annoyed withherself that she had left the paper cutter in the book. 

"Yes. "

"After lunch will you read to me?"

"Of course. "

"You like poetry?"

"Yes, some. "

"This kind?"

Her cheeks became softly pink. 

"Yes, I do. I daresay I should have more classical tastes, but theseseem real, these poems, as if the author had meant and felt what she waswriting about. I am no judge of poetry in the abstract, I only like itif it expresses some truth, and some thought--which appeals to me. "

This was quite a long speech for her!

"Then poems about love appeal to you?" I asked surprised. 

"Why not?"

"Why not indeed, only you always have seemed so austere and aloof, Ihardly thought such a subject would have interested you!"

She gave a little shrug of her shoulders. 

"Perhaps even the working bees have dreams. "

"Have you ever been in love?"

She laughed softly, the first time I have ever heard her laugh. It gaveme a thrill. 

"I don't think so! I have never talked to any men. I mean men of ourclass. "

This relieved me. 

"But you dream?"

"Not seriously. "

Burton announced luncheon at that moment, and we went in. 

We spoke of the rain, and she said she liked being out in the wet. Shehad walked all down the _Avenue Henri Martin_ to the _Bois_. We spoke ofthe war news, and the political situation, and at last we were aloneagain in the salon. 

"Now read, will you please. "

I lay back in my chair and shaded my eye with my hand. 

"Do you want any special poem?"

"Read several, and then get to 'Listen Beloved, ' there is a point in itI want to discuss with you. "

She took the book and settled herself with her back to the window, alittle behind me. 

"Come forward, please. It is more comfortable to listen when one can seethe reader. "

She rose reluctantly, and pulled her chair nearer me and the fire, thenshe began. She chose those poems the least sensuous, and the moreabstract. I watched her all the time. She read "Rutland Gate, " and hervoice showed how she sympathized with the man. Then she read "Atavism, "and her little highly bred face looked savage! I realized with a quiverof delight that she is the most passionate creature, --of course she is, with that father and mother! Wait until I have awakened her enough, andshe will break through all the barriers of convention and reserve, andpride. 

Ah! That will be a moment!

"Now read 'Listen Beloved. '"

She turned the pages, found it, and began, and when she reached the twoverses which had so interested me, she looked up for a second, and herlovely eyes were misty and far away. Then she went on and finished, letting the book drop in her lap. 

"That accords with your theory of reincarnation, that souls meet againand again?"

"Yes. "

"In one of the books I got upon the subject it said all marriages werekarmic debts or rewards. I wonder what our marriage is, don't you?Perhaps we were two enemies who injured each other, and now have tomake up by being of use, each to each. "

"Probably, " she was looking down. 

"Do you ever have that strange feeling that you are searching forsomething all the time, something of the soul, that you areunsatisfied?"

"Yes, often. "

"Read those last verses again. "

Her voice is the most beautiful I have ever heard, modulated, expressive, filled with vibrant vitality and feeling, but this is thefirst time she has read anything appertaining to love. I could hear thatshe was restraining all emphasis, and trying to give the sensuouspassionate words a commonplace cold interpretation. Never before has sheread so monotonously. I knew, ("sensed" is the modern word), that thiswas because she probably felt and understood every line and did not wantto let me see it. Suddenly I found myself becoming suffused withemotion. 

Why all the delay, the fencing, the fighting, to obtain this desiredthing! This woman--my mate!

That she is my mate I know. My mate because my love is not based uponthe senses alone, but is founded upon reverence and respect. Ihope--believe--I _am certain_ that we shall one day realize the truth ofthe words:

 "When some strong-souls shall conquer their division, And two shall be as one eternally! Finding at last upon each others breasts Unutterable calm and infinite rest. "

For me, that means love, not the mere gratifying of the huntinginstinct, not the mere primitive passion for the longed for body, but aunion of the souls, which can be satisfied, having soared beyond thelaws of change. 

What is it which causes unrest? Obviously because something is wantingupon one of the planes on which we love, and so that part which isunsatisfied, unconsciously struggles to have its hunger assuagedelsewhere. 

There is no aspect of mind, body and soul in me, which I feel would findno counterpart in Alathea. If I reached out to any height spiritually, she could go as high, or higher. The cleverest working of the brain Icould hope to manifest would find a complete comprehension in her. Andas for the body! Any student of physiognomy can see that those delicatelittle nostrils show passion, and that cupid's bow of a mouth willdelight in kisses!

Oh! My loved one, do not make we wait too long!

 * * * * *

Ye Gods! What a state of exaltation I was in when I wrote those lineslast night! But they are the truth, even if I now laugh at my expansion!

I wonder how many men are romantic underneath like I am and ashamed toshow it?

When Alathea had finished the verses for the second time, she againdropped the book in her lap. 

"What is your conception of love?" I asked casually. 

"As I shall always have to crush it out of my life from now onward Iwould rather not contemplate what my conception of it might have been. "

"Why must you crush it out?" I asked blandly. "Your fidelity to me wasnot part of the bargain, fidelity has to do with the sex relationships, which do not concern us. One would not ask a secretary to become a nun, on account of one. One would only ask her to behave decently, so as notto shock the world's idea of the situation she was supposed to befilling. "

Her face grew subtle, a look came into the eyes which might have comeinto George's or mine. I suddenly realized how well she really knows theworld from the hard school the circumstances of her life have caused herto learn in. 

"Then I may take a lover, some day, should I desire to?" she asked alittle cynically. 

"Certainly, if you tell me about it and don't deceive me, or make melook ridiculous. The bargain would be too unfair to you at your ageotherwise. "

She looked straight into my eye now and hers were a little fierce. 

"And you--shall you take a mistress?"

I watched the smoke of my cigarette curling. 

"Possibly, " I answered lazily, as though the matter were too much aforegone conclusion to discuss. "Should you mind?"

A faint movement showed in her throat as if she had stopped herselfswallowing. She looked down. I know she finds it very difficult to lie, and could not possibly do so if we were gazing at each other. 

"Why should I mind?"

"No of course, why should you?"

She looked up then, but not at me. Her eyes flashed and her lip curledin contempt. 

"Two seems vulgar though, " she snapped. 

"I agree with you, the idea wounds my aesthetic senses. "

"Then we need not expect another--in the flat just yet?"

At last it was out!

I appeared not to understand, and smoked on calmly, and before I couldanswer the telephone rang. She handed me the instrument, and I said"Hello. " It was Coralie! She spoke very distinctly, and Alathea, who wasnear, must have been able to hear most of the words in the silence. 

"Nicholas, I am going to be by myself this evening, you will have adinner for me? Just us alone, _hein?_"

I permitted my face to express pleasure and amusement. _My wife_ watchedme agitatedly. 

"_Non, chère Amie_--Alas! To-night I am engaged. But I shall see yousoon. "

"_Est il vrai--ce mensonge-la?_"

Coralie said this loud!

I put up my hand so as to be able to continue observing Alathea's face. It was the picture of disgust and resentment. 

"Yes, it is perfectly true, Coralie--_Bon soir_. "

In a temper, one could gather, Coralie put the receiver down! And Ilaughed aloud. 

"You see I prefer your intellectual conversation to any of my friends!"I told Alathea. 

Alathea's cheeks were a bright pink. 

"It is not that, " her tone was sarcastic, "so much as that you probablyhave a sense of _tenue_, as the Duchesse says. After a little while youwill not have to observe it so strictly, " and she rose from her chairand went to the window. "If you are going to rest now, I would wish togo out, " her voice was a little hoarse. 

"Yes, do go, and if you will be near the _rue de la Paix_ go intoRoberts' and ask if the new menthol preparation has come, and if sobring it back to me, it takes ages for things to be sent now. "

"I was not going to the _rue de la Paix_. I was going to a hospital. "

"Never mind then, and don't hurry back, Burton will give me my tea. So_au revoir_ until dinner Miladi. "

I had to say all this because I was at breaking point, and could not anylonger have kept up the game, but would have made an ignominioussurrender, and have told her I loved her, and loathed the idea of amistress, and would certainly murder any lover she should ever glanceat!

She went from the room without a word more. And left alone I tried tosleep, but it was no good. I was too excited. I don't think I am such afool as to flatter myself. I am trying to look at the situationabstractedly. And it seems to me that Alathea is certainly interested inme, certainly jealous of Suzette, of Coralie, furious with herself forbeing so, really convinced now that she has lost her hold upon me, --andis uneasy, rebellious, disturbed and unhappy!

All this is perfectly splendid, --my darling little girl!

After a while I went to sleep in my chair, and was awakened by Burtoncoming in to turn on the lamps. 

"Her Ladyship has ordered tea in her room, Sir Nicholas, " he told me, "Shall I bring yours here?"

"Her Ladyship has come in then?" I said. 

"Her Ladyship did not go out, Sir, " Burton answered surprised. 

What did this mean I wondered? But I saw no sign of Alathea until shecame in ready for dinner as the clock struck eight. 

She was pale but perfectly composed, she had evidently been having somebattle with herself and had won. 

All through dinner she talked more politely and indifferently than shehas for a long time. She was brilliantly intelligent, and I had a mostdelightful repast. We both came up to the scratch, I think. 

She longs to visit Italy, she told me; she has not been there since shewas a child. I said I would take her directly the war would be over, andthings in the way of travel had become possible again. How strong herwill must be to have so mastered herself. No slightest sign of emotion, one way or another, showed now. She was the serene, aloof companion ofthe day at Versailles, before Suzette's shadow fell upon us. I grewpuzzled, as the evening wore on, and just a little unsure of myself. HadI gone too far? Had I over disgusted her? Had all interest died out, andso is she enabled to fulfill the bargain without any more disturbance ofmind?

I asked her to play to me at last, I was growing so apprehensive, andshe went from one divine thing to another for quite an hour, and then atten o'clock stopped and said a dignified and casual "good-night" leavingme sitting in my chair. 

I heard twelve and one strike after I too went to bed, no sleep wouldcome, I was reviewing things, and strengthening my courage. Then I gotup and hobbled into the salon to get the "Last Poems, " the door wasopen, why I don't know, nor do I know what impelled me to go out intothe passage and towards Alathea's room, some powerful magnet seemed todraw me. The carpets are very deep and soft, no noise of footfalls canbe heard. I crept near the door and stopped. What was that faint sound?I listened, yes it was a sob. I crept nearer. 

_Alathea was crying. _

A soft continued moaning as of one in resigned distress. I could hardlybear it. I could hardly prevent myself from opening the door and goingto her to comfort her. 

My darling, darling little girl!

Flight was my only resource. So I left her to her tears, and returned tomy bed, and when I was safely there and could think, a wild sense oftriumph and power and satisfaction filled me! The weight, which all theevening her marvelous self-control had been able to make me feel, liftedfrom my heart, and I rejoiced!

Is it possible that the primitive instinct of the joy of conquest couldmake of me such a brute!

_It gave me pleasure to know that my little love suffered!_

The sooner would she belong to me--quite!

XXV

Marriage is the most turbulent state I could have imagined! Whether ornot Alathea and I will ever get the tangle straightened out I am notcertain. Now as I write--Saturday afternoon, the ninth of November, 1918--it looks as if we were parted forever, and I am so irritated andangry that as yet I feel no grief. 

The quarrel all arose from my fault, I suppose. When Alathea came intothe sitting-room at about ten o'clock she had blue circles round hereyes, and knowing what caused them I determined to ask her about themand disturb her as much as possible! This was mean of me. 

"You poor child! You look as if you had been crying all night. I do hopenothing is troubling you?"

Her cheeks flushed. 

"Nothing, thank you. "

"Your room cannot be properly aired then, or something. I have neverseen you looking so wretchedly. I do wish you would be frank with me. Something must have worried you. People don't look like that fornothing. "

She clasped her hands together. 

"I hate this talk about me. What does it matter how I look, or am, solong as I do the things I am engaged for?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I suppose it ought not to, but one has afeeling that one hates anyone under one's roof to be unhappy. "

"I am not unhappy. I mean not more unhappy than I have always had tobe. "

"But the causes which made you sad before have been removed surely, onlythings which are occurring now from day to day between you and me, canbring fresh trouble. Is it something I have done?"

Silence. 

"Alathea, if you knew how you exasperate me by your silences! I wasalways taught that it was very rude not to answer when one was spokento. "

"It depends upon who speaks, and what about, and whether they have aright to an answer. "

"Then the inference is that I have no right to an answer, when you aresilent?"

"Probably. "

I grew irritated. 

"Well, I think I have a right, I ask you a plain question--have I doneanything which has caused you distress--distress which is so evidentthat you must have been crying!"

She threw up her arms. 

"Why on earth cannot you keep to business, it is quite unfair. If I werereally your secretary and nothing more you would never persecute me foranswers like this!"

"Yes I would. I have a perfect right to know why anyone in my service isunhappy. Your fencing tells me that it _is_ something which I have donewhich has hurt you, and I insist upon knowing what it is. "

"I shall not tell you, " defiantly. 

"I am very angry with you, Alathea, " my voice was stern. 

"I don't care!" hers was passionate. 

"I think you are very rude. "

"You have told me that before--well I am rude then! I will tell younothing. I will do nothing but just be your servant to obey orders whichrelate to the work I have been engaged for. "

I felt so furious I had to lie back in my chair and shut my eye. 

"You have a very poor sense of a bargain, if you only keep it in theletter. Your underneath constant hostility makes everything sodifficult, the inference of your whole attitude toward me, and ofeverything you say and do, is that you feel injured, that you have somegrudge against me. "

I tried to speak levelly. 

"What on earth have I ever done to you except treat you with everycourtesy? Except that one day when you had the baby in your arms and Iwas rude, but apologized, and that one other time when I kissed you, andGod knows I was sorry enough afterwards and have regretted it eversince. What _is_ the reason of your attitude; it is absolutely unfair?"

This seemed to upset her considerably. She hated the idea that she wasthought unfair. It may have made her realize too that she _had_ adefinite sense of injury. She lost her temper, she stamped her scrap ofa foot. 

"I hate you!" she burst out. "You and your bargain! I wish I was dead!"and then she sank into the sofa and covered her face with her hands, andby the shaking of her shoulders, I saw that she was crying!

If I had been cool enough to think then, I suppose I could have reasonedthat all this was probably most flattering to me, and an extra proof ofher state of mind, but the agitation it had plunged me into made meunable to balance things, and I too allowed my temper to get the betterof me, and I got up as best I could and seizing my crutch, I walkedtowards my bedroom door. 

"I shall expect an apology, " was all I said, and went in and left heralone. 

If we are to go on fighting like this, life won't be worth living!

I tried to calm myself and went in the window, but the servants cameinto the room to make the bed, so I was forced to go back again to thesitting-room. Alathea had gone into the little salon, I suppose, becausefor the same reason, she could not have returned to her room. I sat downin my chair quite exhausted. I did not feel like reading or doinganything. 

It was to-day that we were to go to the Duchesse's in the afternoon forAlathea to be presented to our friends as my wife! I wondered if shehad forgotten this!

After an hour Burton came in with the second post. 

"You do look badly, Sir Nicholas!" he said. His face was perplexed andtroubled. "Can I get you anything?"

"Where is Her Ladyship, Burton?"

Then he told me that she had gone out. I could see he wanted to saysomething. His remarks are generally valuable. 

"Out with it, Burton. "

"I do think it is Mam'zelle that's causing all the trouble. As bad luckwould have it, as I opened the door to let Her Ladyship out, who shouldcome up the stairs a moment after but Mam'zelle! They must have passedon the floor below. Neither had taken the lift, which as you know, SirNicholas, is out of order again, since last night. "

"Then she thinks Suzette has come in here to see me Burton. By Jove whata devilish complication! I think we had better move from the flat asquickly as we can. "

"It seems as if it would be advisable, Sir Nicholas. "

"Can you suggest anything, Burton? I really am quite knocked overto-day. "

"Her Ladyship don't chat to servants like some ladies, or I could easilylet her maid know that Mam'zelle don't visit here, so that won't do, " hemused. "You could not tell her yourself straight out. Sir Nicholas, could you?"

"It would be difficult, because it presupposes I think she minds aboutit, and for me to let her know that would insult her more thananything. "

"Beg pardon, Sir Nicholas, but there was a young woman some twenty yearsago, who had a temper like, and I always found it was best just to makea fuss of her, and not do no reasoning. That is what they wants, SirNicholas, indeed it is. I've watched them in all classes for a matter ofmany years. You can get what you want of them if you only make a fuss ofthem. "

"What does 'to make a fuss of' exactly mean Burton?"

"Well, it is not for me to tell you Sir, knowing ladies as you do, butit is just kissing and fondling them, and them things, makin' them feelthat they're just everything, --even reasonable, Sir Nicholas. "

Burton's dryly humorous face delighted me. His advice was first class, too!

"I'll think it over, " I told him, and he left me alone. 

That would be one way of winning or losing everything certainly! But itwould also be breaking my word, and I don't believe I could do that. 

Alathea came in in time for luncheon. Her face was set in a mutinousobstinate mould. We went into the dining-room immediately, and so therewas no chance of conversation. I noticed that she wore no bracelets orrings, nothing of mine, not even the wedding ring. 

We were icy to each other during the meal, and made conversation, andwhen we were alone with the coffee I just said:

"I hope that you have not forgotten that at four o'clock we are to go tothe Duchesse's to meet the friends that she thinks it is suitable foryou to know. "

Alathea started. I could see she had not registered this fact for thisdate. 

"I would rather not go, " she said resentfully. 

"I daresay you would. So would I, but we owe the Duchesse gratitude forall her kindness to us, and I fear we must. "

We did not speak further. I could not talk until she apologized, and Irose to go out of the room. She gave me my crutch. Her not apologizingmade me burn with resentment. 

I had not been in the salon a minute, however, before she came in, herface crimson. She stood in front of me. 

"I apologize for showing my temper this morning. Would it not do afterto-day if I just lived out somewhere, and came in and worked as before?It is a perfect farce that I live here, and wear a wedding ring, eventhe servants must be laughing at me. "

"I notice you do not wear a wedding ring. Your whole attitude isperfectly impossible, and I demand an explanation. What is the reason ofit? We made a bargain, and you are not keeping it. "

"If you will give me time to work, I will pay you back the fiftythousand francs, and the clothes and jewels I can leave behind me--Iwant to go. "

She spoke with a break in her voice now. 

"Why do you want to go suddenly, there is nothing different to-day toyesterday or any other day? I refuse to be the puppet of your caprices. "

She stood clasping and unclasping her hands, never looking at me. 

"Alathea, " I said sternly, "look me straight in the face and tell me thetruth. _What_ is your reason. "

"I can't" still her eyes were down. 

"Is there someone else?" My voice sounded fierce to my own ears. I had asudden fear. 

"But you said it would not matter if there was someone else--if I toldyou, " she answered defiantly. 

"There is someone else then?" I tried to be casual. "Look at me. "

Slowly she raised her eyes until they met my one. 

"No, there is no one. --I just don't want to live here, in this flat anylonger. "

"Unless you can give me some definite reason for this extraordinarybehaviour on your part, I am afraid I must refuse to discuss thesituation, and meanwhile will you please go to your room and fetch therings and bracelets. "

She turned and left without a word--I daresay she wondered what I wasgoing to do with them. 

She brought them back. 

"Come here close. "

She came rebelliously. 

"Give me your hand. "

"I won't. "

"Alathea, I will seize it, crippled as I am, and make you obey me byforce if you will not for asking. "

Her whole face expressed furious resentment, but she is too sensible andlevel headed to make a scene, so she gave me her hand. I put the weddingring back, and the big diamond one. 

"Now you will wear them until you convince me of your reason sothoroughly that I myself take them off, the bracelets you can do as youlike about--throw them away, or give them to your maid. And thisafternoon I hope I can count upon your instincts of being a lady to makeyou behave so that no one can chatter about us. "

She drew away her hand, as though my touch burnt her. Her expression wascontemptuously haughty. 

"Of course you can count upon me for this afternoon, " and she turned andwent out of the room again. 

And now I am waiting for her to come back dressed for the Duchesse'sreception, it is ten minutes to four o'clock. The volcano upon which weare living cannot go on simmering much longer, there is bound to be anexplosion soon!

 * * * * *

_Later:_

Things are developing! My bride and I never spoke a word on the way tothe Hotel de Courville. She was looking the most desirable morsel a mancould wish to present to his friends. The sable cloak and the mostperfect frock and hat. Her maid is evidently a splendid hairdresser. Shewas "of a _chic_, " as Maurice afterwards told me. 

I had telephoned and broken the news to him while I was waiting forAlathea to come. He was not surprised, he pretended, and now that themarriage is an accomplished fact, he is too well bred not to fall intothe attitude of delight about it. Maurice has no intention of droppingme--married or single!

Thus when we arrived, and went up in the lift to the sitting-room, wefound him among the first to greet us. 

The Duchesse kissed us both fondly, and said many pleasant things, andhaving placed me in a suitable chair, brought everyone to me, andpresented Alathea to them all. 

They were the very _crême de la crême_ of the Faubourg who could becollected in Paris--many are still in the country. Coralie was there, with two resentful pinpoints in her clever little eyes, but the mostgracious words on her lips. 

They none of them could find fault with the appearance of my wife--norher manner. She has the ways of the _ancien régime_ like the Duchesse. I could see that she was having a huge success. 

While everything seemed to be going beautifully and all the company hadgone on into another small anti-room where the "_goûter_" was, my dearold friend came to me. 

"It is not progressing Nicholas--_Hein_?"

"There is some screw very loose, Duchesse. She absolutely hates me andwants to go and live out of the flat!"

"_Tiens_!--She is jealous of some one. Nicholas, it is not possible thatyou have still--?"

I did not grow angry. 

"No indeed, that is over long ago, but I do believe she thinks it isnot. You see the person in question comes to see a relative who hasmarried an _antiquaire_ on the floor above me, and Alathea has seen heron the stairs and imagines she comes to see me!"

"And you cannot tell her?"

"I am not supposed to know it would matter to her!"

"_Bon_. Do you really love the child, Nicholas?"

"_Chère Amie_, with my whole heart. I only want her in all the world. "

"And she is being impossible for you surely! I know her character--ifshe thinks you have a mistress--her pride is of _le diable_!"

"It is indeed. "

The Duchesse laughed. 

"We must see what can be done, dear boy. Imagine though what I havediscovered! That infamous father took that money that you gave, when theaffair had already been settled by _le Colonel_ Harcourt with yourmoney! A relation of mine attested at the investigation and had to knowthe facts. Nicholas, you _preux chevalier_! You paid twice, and neversaid a word! You are of a devotion! It was splendid of you, but my poorHilda is heartbroken that you have been so pillaged. "

At that moment the crowd returned from the other room and the Duchesserose and left me. 

Coralie now sat with me. 

"_Mes compliments_, Nicholas! She is lovely! But what a fox, --thou!"

"Am I not? It is so delicious to find things out for oneself!"

Coralie laughed; she has a philosophic spirit, as I have found alwaysthose much love-battered ones possess. She accepts my defection andagain looks to the main chance to see how she can benefit by it. 

At last the whole thing was over, and Maurice and I had a cigarettetogether in the tea room. 

People would be crazy, "simply crazy, my dear chap, " about Alathea, hetold me. She was "_séduisante_, " how right I had been! How fortunate Iwas! When was I going to England?

He said farewells after this, and once more _my wife_ and I were alonein the brougham. 

Alathea wore her mask. Having been received now as my wife, and by theDuchesse whom she loves and respects, she knows she cannot go onsuggesting she will not live in the flat with me. She cannot bringherself to speak about Suzette, because the inference would be that sheobjects. I wondered if the Duchesse had been able to say anything toher. 

She did not speak at all and went straight to her room when we arrived. 

It was five minutes past eight when she came in to the sitting-room. 

"I am sorry if I have kept you waiting, " were her first words. 

At dinner we spoke ceremoniously of the party. And when we went back tothe salon she went straight to the piano and played divinely for anhour. 

The music soothed me. I felt less angry and disturbed. 

"Won't you come over and speak now?" I called in a pause, and she cameover and sat down. 

"Don't let us talk to-night, " she said. "I am trying to adjust things inmy mind. I want to go to my mother to-morrow, if you will agree. She isill again, and has not been able to start. From there I will tell you ifI can force myself to keep on with it, or no. "

"I cannot understand why it should be so difficult, the idea did notaffright you when we first talked of it. You voluntarily accepted theproposal, made your bargain, promised to stick to it, and here afterthree days you are trying to break out, and are insinuating that thecircumstances are too horrible for you to continue bearing it. Surelyyour reason and common sense must tell you that your behaviour isgrotesque. "

The same agitation which always shows when we talk thus overcame heragain. She did not speak. 

"I could understand it better if you were a hysterical character. Youdid not seem to be so, but now no ridiculous school miss of romancecould be more given to the vapours. You will absolutely destroy theremaining respect I have for you, unless you tell me the truth, and whatis underneath in your mind influencing you to behave so childishly. "

This stung her to the quick, as I had meant that it should. She boundedup. 

"Well, --I will then. I hate being in the house--with your mistress!"

She was trembling all over, and as white as marble. 

I leaned back and laughed softly. My joy was so immense I could not helpit. 

"To begin with, I have no mistress, but if I had how can it possiblymatter to you, since you hate me, and yourself arranged to be only mysecretary. "

"You have no mistress!" I could see she thought I was lying ignobly. 

"I had one, as of course you know, but the moment I began to think thatyou might be an agreeable companion, I parted from her, at the time whenyou saw the counterfoils in the cheque-book, and changed to me fromthat moment. "

"Then--?" she still looked incredulous. 

"She has a cousin living in the flat above, married to an _anticaire_. She comes to see her. You have no doubt met on the stairs. And on ourwedding day she came in here, not knowing, to thank me for a villa I hadgiven her at Monte Carlo as a good-bye present. I am very angry that sheintruded, and it shall never happen again. "

"Is this true?" She was breathless. 

That made me angry. 

"I am not in the habit of lying, " I said haughtily. 

"_Mademoiselle la Blonde_, " and her lips curled. "She came in while youwere at St. Malo. She inferred you had not parted then!"

"That was because she was jealous, and is very temperamental. I hadthought that quality was confined to her class. "

I too can hit hard when I am insulted!

Alathea flashed at me. She was beginning to realize that she was at adisadvantage. 

"You are not unutterably shocked that I should have had a--friend, areyou?"

Her face grew contemptuous. 

"No, my father had one. Men are all beasts. "

"They may be in the abstract, but are not when they can find a womanworth love and respect. "

She shrugged her shoulders. 

"My mother is an angel. "

"Now that your mind is at rest as to this question, have you any othercause of complaint against me? Though why it should matter to you what Ido or don't do in this respect, as long as I am courteous to you, andfulfill my side of the bargain, I cannot think. One could imagine youwere jealous!"

"Jealous!" she flared furiously. "Jealous, I! How ridiculous. --One hasto care to be jealous!" and then she flounced out of the room. 

Yes, --even when they appear all that is balanced, there is nothing soamazing as a woman!

XXVI

_Sunday:_

I slept last night soundly for some strange reason, and woke quite lateon Sunday morning. 

One frequently has some sense of depression or some sense of exhaltationbefore one is quite conscious, and quite often cannot account for eitherstate. Presumably Alathea had left me full of contemptuous indifference, but I awoke with a feeling of joy and satisfaction, which graduallychanged to flatness, when I became fully aware of things. 

For indeed what reason had I for great rejoicing? None, except that themenace of the Suzette bogie may be lifted. 

I rang for Burton. It was nine o'clock. 

"Has Her Ladyship breakfasted yet, Burton?"

"Her Ladyship breakfasted at eight, and left the house at half-past, SirNicholas. "

My heart sank. So I was going to have a lonely morning. She had said shewanted to go to her mother, I remembered now. I did not hurry to get up. The doctors were coming with the wonderful artist who is making my newfoot, at twelve o'clock, and I am to have it on to-day for the firsttime. This would be a surprise for Alathea when she returned to lunch. Iread my journal in bed, and thought over the whole of our acquaintance. Yes, certainly she has greatly changed in the last six weeks. Andpossibly I am nearer my goal than I could have dared to hope. 

Now my method must be to be sweet to her, and not tease her any more. 

How wonderful it will be when she does love me. I have not thought muchabout my own feelings lately. She has kept me so often irritated andangry, but I know that there is a steady advance, and that I love hermore than ever. 

To see her little mutinous rebellious face softening--?--it will beworth all the waiting. But meanwhile she is out, and I had better getup!

 * * * * *

I wonder if all the hundreds of other fellows who lost a leg below theknee and were cripples for eighteen months felt the same as I did whenthe new limb was fixed, and they stood upon two feet again for the firsttime. 

A strange, almost mad sense of exaltation filled me. I could walk! I wasno longer a prisoner, dependent upon the devotion of attendants!

I should no longer have to have things placed within reach, and be madeto realize impotency!

It hurt and was awkward for a while. --But Oh! the joy, joy, joy!!

After the doctors and the specialist had gone with heartycongratulations, my dear old faithful servant had tears in his eyes ashe dressed me. 

"You must excuse me, Sir Nicholas, but I am so glad. "

Excuse him! I could have hugged him in my own joy. 

He arrayed me in one of Mr. Davies's pre-war masterpieces, and we bothstood in front of the long glass in my bedroom, and then we solemnlyshook hands!

It was too glorious!

I wanted to run about! I wanted to shout and sing. I played idiotictricks, walking backwards and forwards, like one of Shackleton'spenguins. Then I went back to the glass again, actually whistling atune! Except for the black patch over my eye, I appeared very much thesame as I used to do before the war. My shoulder is practically straightnow. I am a little thinner, and perhaps my face bears traces ofsuffering, but in general I don't look much altered. 

I wonder what Alathea will say when she sees me! I wonder if it willmake any difference to her?

To-morrow morning they are going to put in my eye. 

I have not written all this in my journal, it seemed too good to betrue, and I had a kind of superstitious feeling that I must not eventhink of it, much less write, in case it did not come off. But now themoment has come! I am a man again on two feet. Hurrah!

I looked out of the window and kissed my hand to a young girl in thestreet. I wanted to call to her, "I could walk with you now, perhapssoon I could run!" She looked at me with the corner of her eye!

Then I planned how I would surprise Alathea! I would be in my bedroomwhen I knew she was in the salon before lunch, and then I would walk in!

I became excited, there was about a quarter of an hour to wait. I triedto sit down and settle to a book, but it was useless, the words conveyedno sense. I could not even read the papers!

I began listening to every sound, there were not many things passing atthis time on a Sunday morning, but of course she was walking, notdriving. One o'clock struck. She had not returned. Burton came in to askif I would postpone lunch. 

"Her Ladyship did not say when she would be back, " he said. 

"We had better not wait then. I believe now she told me she would not bein. "

Burton had opened a pint of champagne. On this tremendous occasion hefelt I should drink my own health!

I had begun to lose some of my joy. ----I wished she had been here toshare it with me. ----

 * * * * *

I have walked up and down--up and down. It is four o'clock now, and shehas not returned. No doubt her mother is ill, perhaps, --perhaps--

_Midnight:_

I have spent a beastly day. My exhilaration has all evaporated now. Ihave had no one to share it with me. Maurice and everyone is leaving mediscreetly alone, knowing I am supposed to be on myhoneymoon--Honeymoon!

I spent the afternoon waiting, waiting. And after tea when Alathea hadnot arrived I began taking longer turns, walking up and down the broadcorridor, and at last I paused outside her room, and a desire came overme to look in on it, and see how she had arranged it. 

There was silence. I listened a moment, then I opened the door. 

The fire was not lit, it all seemed cold and cheerless. I turned on thelight. 

Except for the tortoise-shell and gold brushes and boxes I had had puton the dressing table for her, there was not an indication that anyonestayed there, none of the usual things women have about in their rooms. One could see she looked upon it just as an hotel, and not a permanentabode. There were no photographs of her family, no books of her own, nothing. 

Only the bracelets were on the table still in their case, and on lookingnearer, I saw there was a bottle of scent. It had no label, and when Iopened it I smelled the exquisite perfume of fresh roses that she uses. Where does she get it? It is the purest I have ever smelt in my life. 

I looked at the quaint little fourpost bed that I had found in that shopat Bath, a perfect specimen of its date, about 1699, with the old deeprose silk pressed over the shell carving. 

I had an insane desire to open the drawers in the chest and touch herstockings and gloves. I had a wild feeling altogether I wanted my love, rebellious, unrelenting, anyhow! I just longed for her. 

I resisted my stupidities and made myself leave the room, and then triedto feel joy again in my leg. 

Burton was turning on the lamps when I got back to the salon. 

"There are rumours that something is going to happen, SirNicholas, --talk of an Armistice I heard when I was out. Do you thinkFoch will do it?"

But I know all these rumours and talks, we have heard them before, sothis did not affect me. I could feel nothing, as time went on, but apassionate ache. Why, why must she be so cruel to me? Why does she leaveme all alone?

Alathea, I would never be so unkind to you. And yet I don't know, if Iwere jealous and angry, as I suppose she is, I could of course be muchcrueler. 

Her Ladyship's maid had been given the day out by her mistress, Burtoninformed me, so that we could gain no information from her. We waiteduntil half-past eight for dinner, but still my little girl did not come, and in solemn state in a white tie and tail coat, I dined--alone!

In spite of the champagne, which Burton again handed, apprehension setin. What can have happened to her? Has she had an accident? Does shemean never to return? Are all my calculations of no sense, and has sheleft me forever?

In despair, at ten o'clock I telephoned the Hotel de Courville. 

Lady Thormonde had been there in the morning, I was told, but theDuchesse had left for Hautevine at two o'clock. --No one was in the housenow. --No, they did not know Lady Hilda Bulteel's telephone number. Shehad no telephone they supposed. --No, they did not know the address. 

Auteuil, and the name Bulteel, that is all! Perhaps something could bedone on a week-day, but on a Sunday night, in war time, all wasimpossible. And at last in an agony of doubt and apprehension, Iconsented to retire to bed. 

Had I made some mistake? I tried to remember. She had said she meant todecide if she could bear the situation or no, and that she was going toher mother. She wanted to be with her. She had been ill and could notstart. Yes, of course that is it. The mother is ill, and they have notelephone. I must wait until the morning. She cannot really mean not tocome back. In any case she would have let me know. 

But what an agony of suspense!

Burton came and gave me my medicine, when I was in bed, and although Iknew it was a camouflaged sleeping draught, I drank it. I just could notbear it any longer. 

But I only slept until four, and now I am sitting up writing this, andI feel as if every queer force was abroad, and that all sorts ofmomentous things are happening. --Oh, when will daylight come--

 * * * * *

I was awakened by cannon!

I leaped from my bed. Yes, leaped! I had been dreaming that a surpriseparty of Germans were attacking the trench, and I was just rallying themen for a final dash when heavy guns began a bombardment which wasunexpected. --Oh God! let me get up and over the top in time!

Wild with excitement, I was now wide awake!

Yes, there were cannons booming!

Had Bertha begun again?

What was happening?

Then I heard murmurs in the street. I rang the bell violently. I hadslept very late. Burton rushed in. 

"An Armistice, Sir Nicholas, " he cried joyously. 

"It's true after all!"

An Armistice! Oh, God!

So at last, at last we have won, and it has not been all in vain!

I shook with emotion. How utterly absorbed in my own affairs I had beennot to have taken in that this was coming. George Harcourt hadtelephoned that he had news for me, I remember now, while we were at theHotel de Courville on Saturday, and I had paid no attention. 

I was too excited all through breakfast to feel renewed anxiety aboutAlathea. I was accepting the fact that she had stayed with her mother. Surely, surely she would be in soon now!

The oculist, and his artist-craftsman, would be arriving soon, at eleveno'clock, if the excitement of an Armistice does not prevent them! I hopeall that won't be going on when Alathea does come in!

Burton has questioned her maid. She knows nothing of Miladi's movementsonly that she herself had been given permission to go out for the day. 

All the servants have gone more or less crazy! Pierre hopped in justnow, jolly old chap! and in his excitement embraced me on both cheeks!

(He has a wooden stump, not a smart footed thing like mine, but I shallchange all that now!). 

Antoine could not contain himself, and heaven knows what theunderservants did!

I told them all to run out and see what was happening, but Pierre saidno, the _déjeuner_ of Monsieur must not be neglected. Time enough in theafternoon!

Eleven came, and with it the oculist, and by luncheon time I had asecond blue eye! But Oh! the shouting in the streets and the passionatejoy in the air!

The two men preened themselves upon keeping this appointment upon sogreat a day, and indeed my gratitude was deep. But the same gladness didnot hold me as when my leg was given back to me. Everything was nowswallowed up in an overwhelming suspense. 

What could have kept Alathea?

I walked to the glass soberly when the doctors had gone, eager to getaway and join the rejoicers. And what I saw startled me. How astonishingthe art of these things is now! Unless I turn my glance in someimpossible way I have apparently two bright blue eyes, with the samelids and lashes, the scrap of shrapnel only injured the orb itself, anddid not touch the lid, fortunately, and the socket had healed upmiraculously in the last month. I am not now a disgusting object. Perhaps, possibly--Yes, can I induce her to love me soon?

But what is the good of it all? She has not returned, and now somethingmust be done. 

But on this day of days no one could be found to attend to anything!Shops were shut, post offices did not work. The city was mad withrejoicing. 

At luncheon I ate, --gulped down my food. Burton's calm reassured me. 

"You don't think anything has happened, do you Burton?"

"No, Sir Nicholas. Her Ladyship is no doubt with her family. I don'tfeel that anything is amiss. Her Grace returns to-morrow anyway, and wecan hear for sure then. Would you not care to drive out and see thepeople, Sir? It is a day!"

But I told him no. He must go, they all could go. I would wait in andcould now attend to myself! But I knew somehow that the dear old boywould not leave me. 

The hours went by, the shouting grew louder, as bands passed on theirway to the _Champs Elysées_ to see the cannon, which I heard were nowdragged there. Burton came in from time to time to tell me the news, gathered from the _concierge_ below. 

I telephoned to Maurice, he was wild with delight! They were going tohave a great dinner at the Ritz and then go and _farandole_ in thestreets with the people, would not we (_we!_) join them!

Everyone was going. Odette telephoned too, and Daisy Ryven. All wererejoicing and happy. 

The agony grew and grew. What if she means to leave me and has justdisappeared, not telling me on purpose to punish me? At this thought Iwent frantically into her room again, and looked on the dressing-table. The ring cases were there in a drawer in the William and Marylooking-glass, but no rings. No, if she had not meant to return shewould have left them behind her. This gave me hope. 

I had the fire lit. Burton lit it, everyone else was out. 

Of course the crowd has prevented her returning. There would be greatdifficulty in getting back from Auteuil. 

Some of the fellows of the Supreme War Council rang up. They were lessexhilarated by the news. A pity, they thought. Foch could have enteredBerlin in a week!

At last, when I had been pacing like a restless tiger, and twilight wascoming, I sank into my chair overcome with the strain. 

I did not mean to feel the drivel of self pity, but it is a ghastlything to be all alone and anxious, when everyone else is shouting forjoy. 

I was staring into the fire. I had not had the lights lit on purpose. Iwanted the soft shadows to soothe me. Burton had gone down again to the_concierge_. 

A bitterness and a melancholy I cannot describe was holding me. Of whatgood my leg and my eye if I am to suffer torment once more? A sense offorsakenness held me. Perhaps I dozed, because I was worn out, whensuddenly I was conscious of a closing door, and opening my eye, I sawthat Alathea stood before me. 

A log fell and blazed brightly, and I could see that her face wasgreatly moved. 

"I am so sorry if you have been anxious. --Burton says you have. I wouldhave been back earlier but I was caught in the crowd. "

I reached out and turned on the lamp near me, and when she saw my eyeand leg, she fell upon her knees at my side. 

"Oh! Nicholas, " she cried brokenly, and I put out my hand and took herhand. 

 * * * * *

What a thing is joy!

My heart beat madly, the blood rushed in my veins. What was that noise Iheard in my ear beyond the shouting in the street?

Was it the cooing which used to haunt my dreams?

Yes it was. And Alathea's voice was murmuring in French:

"_Pardon, pardon, j' etais si bien ingrate--Pardonnez moi--Hein?_"

I wanted to whisper:

"Darling you have returned, --nothing matters any more, " but I controlledmyself. She must finally surrender first!

Then she sprang to her feet and stood back to look at me. I rose too andthere towered above her. 

"Oh, I am so glad, so glad, " she said tremulously. "How wonderful, --howmiraculous!--It is for this great day!"

"I thought that you had left me altogether. " I was a little breathless, "I was so very sad. "

Now she looked down. 

"Nicholas, " (how I loved to hear her pronounce my name) "Nicholas, Ihave heard from my mother of your great generosity. You had helped uswithout ever telling me, and then paid again to stop my mother'sanxiety, and again to stop mine. Oh! I am ashamed, --humbled, that I havebeen as I have been to you, forgive me, forgive me, I ask you to from myheart. "

"I have nothing to forgive child. Come let us sit down and talkeverything over, " and I sank into the sofa and she came beside me. 

She would not look at me, however, but her little face was gentle andshy. "I cannot understand though why you did all that. I cannotunderstand anything about it all. --You do not love me. --You only wantedme for your secretary, and yet you paid over a hundred thousand francs!The generosity is great. "

I gazed and gazed at her. 

"And you hate me, " I said as coolly as I could "and let me buy you, sothat you could save your family. --Your sacrifice was immense. "

Suddenly she looked straight up at me, her eyes filled with passion, sothat wild fire kindled in my blood. 

"Nicholas, --I do not hate you. "

I took both her hands and drew her to me, while outside in the streetthey were singing the _Marseillaise_ and yelling for joy. 

"Alathea, tell me the truth, what then do you feel?"

"I don't know. I wanted to murder Suzette. I could have drownedCoralie. --Perhaps you can tell me, --here in your arms--!"

And with wild abandon she fell forward into my fond embrace. 

Ah! God! The bliss of the next few moments with her soft lips pressed tomine! Then I could not repeat often enough that I loved her, nor makeher tell me how she loved me in return!

Afterwards, I grew masterful and ordered her to recount to me everythingfrom the very beginning. 

Yes, she had been attracted by me from the first day, but she hated thefriends I had round me, and she did not like the aimlessness of my life. 

"Whenever I used to be growing too contemptous though, Nicholas, I usedto remember the V. C. , and then the feeling went off, but I was growingangrier and angrier with myself, because in spite of believing you onlythought of me as one of them, I could not prevent myself from lovingyou. There is something about you that made one forget all about yourleg and your eye!"

"Those cheques disgusted you!" and I kissed the little curl by herear--she was clasped close to me now. --"That was the beginning of mydetermination to conquer you and have you for my own!"

She caressed my hair. 

"I adore thick hair, Nicholas, " she whispered, "but now you have hadenough flattery! I am off to dress!"

She struggled and pretended she wanted to leave me, but I would not lether go. 

"Only when I please and at a price! I want to show you that you have ahusband who in spite of a wooden leg and a glass eye, is a powerfulbrute!"

"I love you, --strong like that, " she cooed, her eyes soft with passionagain. "I am not good really, --or austere, --or cold. "

And I knew it was true as she paid the toll!

Presently I made her let me come and choose which frock she was to puton for dinner, and I insisted that I should stay and see her hair beingbrushed, and the maid, Henriette, with her French eye, beamed upon usunderstandingly!

While Burton almost blubbered with happiness when I told him HisLadyship and I were friends again. 

"I knew it, Sir Nicholas, if you'd just made a fuss of her. "

How right he was!

What a dinner we had, gay as two children, fond and foolish assweethearts always are, --and then the afterwards!

"Let us go and see the streets, " my little love implored, "I feel thatwe should shout our divine happiness with the crowd!"

But when we went out on the balcony to investigate, we saw that would beimpossible, I am not yet steady enough on my feet to have faced thatthrong. So we stood there and sang and cheered with them, as they swepton towards the _Arc de Triomphe_, and gradually a delirious intoxicationheld us both, and I drew her back into the softly lighted room. 

"Lover!" she whispered as she melted into my arms, and all I answeredwas, "Soul of Mine. "

And now I know what the whole of those verses mean!

And so this Journal is done!