Part 51 (1/2)

”No, no, _no_! Of course he'd disapprove. But then--he soon forgives a thing, if he thinks it clever. And it is clever, isn't it?--some of it.

He'd laugh--and then it would be all right. _He'd_ never pay out his enemies, but he couldn't help enjoying it if some one else did--could he?” She pleaded like a child.

”'No need to forgive them,'” murmured Darrell, as he rolled over on his back and put his hat over his eyes--”for you would have 'shot them all.'”

Under the shelter of his hat he tried to think himself clear. What _really_ were her motives? Partly, no doubt, a childish love of excitement--partly revenge? The animus against the Parhams was clear in every page. Cliffe, too, came badly out of it--a fantastic Byronic mixture of libertine and cad. Lady Kitty had better beware! As far as he knew, Cliffe had never yet been struck, with impunity to the striker.

If these precious sheets ever appeared, Ashe's position would certainly be shaken. Poor wretch!--endeavoring to pursue a serious existence, yoked to such an impish sprite as this! His own fault, after all. That first night, at Madame d'Estrees', was not her madness written in her eyes?

”Now tell me, Lady Kitty”--he roused himself to look at her with some attention--”what do you want me to do?”

”To find me a publisher, and”--she stooped towards him with a laughing shyness--”to get me some money.”

”Money!”

”I've been so awfully extravagant lately,” said Kitty, frankly.

”Something really will have to be done. And the book's worth some money, isn't it?”

”A good deal,” said Darrell. Then he added, with emphasis--”I really can't be responsible for it in any way, Lady Kitty.”

”Of course not. I will never, _never_ say I told you! But, you see, I'm not literary--I don't know in the least how to set about it. If you would just put me in communication?”

Darrell pondered. None of the well-known publishers, of course, would look at it. But there were plenty of people who would--and give Lady Kitty a large sum of money for it, too.

What part, however, could he--Darrell--play in such a transaction?

”I am bound to warn you,” he said, at last, looking up, ”that your husband will probably strongly disapprove this book, and that it may do him harm.”

Kitty bit her lip.

”But if I tell n.o.body who wrote it--and you tell n.o.body?”

”Ashe would know at once. Everybody would know.”

”William would know,” his companion admitted, unwillingly. ”But I don't see why anybody else should. You see, I've put myself in--I've said the most shocking things!”

Darrell replied that she would not find that device of much service to her.

”However--I can no doubt get an opinion for you.”

Kitty, all delight, thanked him profusely.

”You shall have the whole of it before you go--Friday, isn't it?” she said, eagerly gathering it up.

Darrell was certainly conscious of no desire to burden himself with the horrid thing. But he was rarely able to refuse the request of a pretty and fas.h.i.+onable woman, and it flattered his conceit to be the sole recipient of what might very well turn out to be a political secret of some importance. Not that he meant to lay himself open to any just reproach whatever in the matter. He would show it to some fitting person--to pacify Lady Kitty--write a letter of strong protest to her afterwards--and wash his hands of it. What might happen then was not his business.

Meanwhile his inner mind was full of an acrid debate which turned entirely upon his interview with Ashe of the day before. No doubt, as an old friend, aware of Lady Kitty's excitable character, he might have felt it his duty to go straight to Ashe, _coute que coute_, and warn him of what was going on. But what encouragement had been given him to play so Quixotic a part? Why should he take any particular thought for Ashe's domestic peace, or Ashe's public place? What consideration had Ashe shown for _him_? ”Tu l'as voulu, Georges Dandin!”

So it ended in his promising to take the MS. to London with him, and let Lady Kitty know the result of his inquiries. Kitty's dancing step as they returned to the house betrayed the height of her spirits.