Part 5 (1/2)
”Phil! I never meant that.”
He said: ”If Alixe found that she cared for Ruthven, I don't blame her.
Laws and statutes can't govern such matters. If she found she no longer cared for me, I could not blame her. But two people, mismated, have only one chance in this world--to live their tragedy through with dignity.
That is absolutely all life holds for them. Beyond that, outside of that dead line--treachery to self and race and civilisation! That is my conclusion after a year's experience in h.e.l.l.” He rose and began to pace the floor, fingers worrying his moustache. ”Law? Can a law, which I do not accept, let me loose to risk it all again with another woman?”
She said slowly, her hands folded in her lap: ”It is well you've come to me at last. You've been turning round and round in that wheeled cage until you think you've made enormous progress; and you haven't. Dear, listen to me; what you honestly believe to be unselfish and high-minded adherence to principle, is nothing but the circling reasoning of a hurt mind--an intelligence still numbed from shock, a mental and physical life forced by sheer courage into mechanical routine... . Wait a moment; there is n.o.body else to say this to you; and if I did not love you I would not interfere with this great mistake you are so honestly making of your life, and which, perhaps, is the only comfort left you. I say, 'perhaps,' for I do not believe that life holds nothing happier for you than the sullen content of martyrdom.”
”Nina!”
”I am right!” she said, almost fiercely; ”I've been married thirteen years and I've lost that fear of men's portentous judgments which all girls outgrow one day. And do you think I am going to acquiesce in this att.i.tude of yours toward life? Do you think I can't distinguish between a tragical mistake and a mistaken tragedy? I tell you your life is not finished; it is not yet begun!”
He looked at her, incensed; but she sprang to the floor, her face bright with colour, her eyes clear, determined: ”I thought, when you took the oath of military service, you swore to obey the laws of the land? And the very first law that interferes with your preconceived notions--crack!--you say it's not for you! Look at me--you great, big, wise brother of mine--who knows enough to march a hundred and three men into battle, but not enough to know where pride begins and conscience ends. You're badly hurt; you are deeply humiliated over your resignation; you believe that ambition for a career, for happiness, for marriage, and for children is ended for you. You need fresh air--and I'm going to see you have it. You need new duties, new faces, new scenes, new problems. You shall have them. Dear, believe me, few men as young as you--as attractive, as human, as lovable, as affectionate as you, wilfully ruin their lives because of a hurt pride which they mistake for conscience. You will understand that when you become convalescent. Now kiss me and tell me you're much obliged--for I hear Austin's voice on the stairs.”
He held her at arms' length, gazing at her, half amused, half indignant; then, unbidden, a second flash of the old telepathy pa.s.sed between them--a pale glimmer lighted his own dark heart in sympathy; and for a moment he seemed to have a brief glimpse of the truth; and the truth was not as he had imagined it. But it was a glimpse only--a fleeting suspicion of his own fallibility; then it vanished into the old, dull, aching, obstinate humiliation. For truth would not be truth if it were so easily discovered.
”Well, we've buried it now,” breathed Selwyn. ”You're all right, Nina--from your own standpoint--and I'm not going to make a stalking nuisance of myself; no fear, little sister. h.e.l.lo!”--turning swiftly--”here's that preposterous husband of yours.”
They exchanged a firm hand clasp; Austin Gerard, big, smooth shaven, humorously inclined toward the ruddy heaviness of successful middle age; Selwyn, lean, bronzed, erect, and direct in all the powerful symmetry and perfect health of a man within sight of maturity.
”Hail to the chief--et cetera,” said Austin, in his large, bantering voice. ”Glad to see you home, my bolo-punctured soldier boy. Welcome to our city! I suppose you've both pockets stuffed with loot, now haven't you?--pearls and sarongs and dattos--yes? Have you inspected the kids?
What's your opinion of the Gerard batallion? Pretty fit? Nina's commanding, so it's up to her if we don't pa.s.s dress parade. By the way, your enormous luggage is here--consisting of one d.i.n.ky trunk and a sword done up in chamois skin.”
”Nina's good enough to want me for a few days--” began Selwyn, but his big brother-in-law laughed scornfully:
”A few days! We've got you now!” And to his wife: ”Nina, I suppose I'm due to lean over those infernal kids before I can have a minute with your brother. Are they in bed yet? All right, Phil; we'll be down in a minute; there's tea and things in the library. Make Eileen give you some.”
He turned, unaffectedly taking his pretty wife's hand in his large florid paw, and Selwyn, intensely amused, saw them making for the nursery absorbed in conjugal confab. He lingered to watch them go their way, until they disappeared; and he stood a moment longer alone there in the hallway; then the humour faded from his sun-burnt face; he swung wearily on his heel, and descended the stairway, his hand heavy on the velvet rail.
The library was large and comfortable, full of agreeably wadded corners and fat, helpless chairs--a big, inviting place, solidly satisfying in dull reds and mahogany. The porcelain of tea paraphernalia caught the glow of the fire; a reading lamp burned on a centre table, shedding subdued l.u.s.tre over ceiling, walls, books, and over the floor where lay a few ancient rugs of Beloochistan, themselves full of mysterious, sombre fire.
Hands clasped behind his back, he stood in the centre of the room, considering his environment with the grave, absent air habitual to him when brooding. And, as he stood there, a sound at the door aroused him, and he turned to confront a young girl in hat, veil, and furs, who was leisurely advancing toward him, stripping the gloves from a pair of very white hands.
”How do you do, Captain Selwyn,” she said. ”I am Eileen Erroll and I am commissioned to give you some tea. Nina and Austin are in the nursery telling bedtime stories and hearing a.s.sorted prayers. The children seem to be quite crazy about you--” She unfastened her veil, threw back stole and coat, and, rolling up her gloves on her wrists, seated herself by the table. ”--_Quite_ crazy about you,” she continued, ”and you're to be included in bedtime prayers, I believe--No sugar? Lemon?--Drina's mad about you and threatens to give you her new maltese puppy. I congratulate you on your popularity.”
”Did you see me in the nursery on all fours?” inquired Selwyn, recognising her bronze-red hair.
Unfeigned laughter was his answer. He laughed, too, not very heartily.
”My first glimpse of our legendary nursery warrior was certainly astonis.h.i.+ng,” she said, looking around at him with frank malice. Then, quickly: ”But you don't mind, do you? It's all in the family, of course.”
”Of course,” he agreed with good grace; ”no use to pretend dignity here; you all see through me in a few moments.”
She had given him his tea. Now she sat upright in her chair, smiling, _distraite_, her hat casting a luminous shadow across her eyes; the fluffy furs, fallen from throat and shoulder, settled loosely around her waist.
Glancing up from her short reverie she encountered his curious gaze.
”To-night is to be my first dinner dance, you know,” she said. Faint tints of excitement stained her white skin; the vivid scarlet contrast of her mouth was almost startling. ”On Thursday I was introduced--” she explained, ”and now I'm to have the gayest winter I ever dreamed of... . And I'm going to leave you in a moment if Nina doesn't hurry and come. Do you mind?”
”Of course I mind,” he protested amiably, ”but I suppose you wish to devote several hours to dressing.”