Part 26 (2/2)

”But would you be content to live as Mrs. Dermot does?”

”Content? I'd love it better than anything else, if I were with you.”

Then he forgot her reproof and she her high-minded resolves as his arms went round her and he drew her to him until their lips met in a long, pa.s.sionate kiss. Afterwards they sat hand in hand and talked of what the future would hold for them if only Fate were kind. And Mrs. Norton, speeding across India to shatter their dream-world, smiled a little grimly as she pictured to herself her meeting with Frank.

Next day the blow fell. Wargrave was sitting at lunch with Mrs. Dermot and Muriel in the hotel dining-room when Violet's telegram was handed to him. His companions could see that he had received bad news; but he pulled himself together and said nothing about it until he was alone with Mrs. Dermot in her private sitting-room after _tiffin_. Then he exclaimed suddenly, handing her the telegram:

”She's on her way here.”

Noreen understood even before she looked at the paper. When she read the message she asked:

”What's she coming here for?”

”I don't know. I haven't had a letter from her for a long time,” he replied wearily.

”What are you going to do about her?”

”What can I?” he said with a gesture of despair. ”It's for her to decide. If she wishes it I must keep my word.”

”But Muriel? What of her? You know she cares for you. Has she no right to be considered?” demanded her friend impatiently. ”Are you going to ruin her life as well as yours? This woman will only drag you down. She can't really be fond of you or she wouldn't forget you as she's been doing. You don't love her. Don't you see what it will all mean to you?--to be pilloried in the Divorce Court, made to pay enormous costs, perhaps heavy damages as well. And even now you say you're in debt. And then to be chained for life to a woman you don't care about while you're in love with another. Oh, Mr. Wargrave, do be sensible. Tell her the truth. Tell her you can't go on with it.”

”I've given her my word,” he said simply.

She pleaded with him pa.s.sionately, but to no avail. At last, as Muriel entered the room, she rose, saying:

”Tell her. I'll not mention the subject again.”

And she walked indignantly into her bedroom and shut the door almost with a bang; for the little woman was furious with him for what she deemed his cra.s.s stupidity.

”What's the matter with Noreen?” asked the girl in surprise.

Without a word he gave her the telegram.

”Oh Frank!” she gasped, and sank overwhelmed into a chair, letting the fatal paper flutter to the floor.

He did not go to her but stood by the window, the image of despair, gazing out with unseeing eyes.

”What am I to do?” he asked miserably.

”You must keep your word if she wishes it,” answered the girl bravely.

But the next moment she broke down and, burying her face in her hands, wept bitterly. He made no move to her; and she rose and went quietly back to her own room.

In the interval that elapsed before Violet's arrival Mrs. Dermot did not abandon hope, and in spite of her words she attacked Wargrave persistently, trying to shake his resolution. But to her despair Muriel sided with him and declared that he was right. So finally Noreen gave it up and vowed that she would wash her hands of the whole affair.

When Violet reached Darjeeling Wargrave met her at the railway station.

Face to face with him her anger died and something of the attraction he had had for her revived. So she greeted him effusively and all but embraced him on the platform. Other men seeing the meeting wondered why he looked so miserable when such a lovely woman evinced her delight at seeing him so plainly. She pa.s.sed her arm through his with an air of possession and chatted volubly while he watched his servant help hers to collect her luggage. When she took her seat in the _dandy_, or chair carried on the shoulders of coolies, and was being conveyed towards her hotel she behaved as though they had not been parted a week, rattled on gaily about her doings in Poona and Mahableshwar and, with all the glories of the Himalayas about her, declared that the Bombay hill-station was far lovelier than Darjeeling. Wargrave was relieved that she showed no desire to be sentimental and gladly responded to her mood, detailing the forthcoming gaieties and promising to take her to them all.

When they reached the Eastern Palace Hotel and were shown up into her private sitting-room she put her hands on his shoulders as soon as they were alone and said:

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