Part 44 (1/2)

”I'm sure you'll trust me this far,” he said; ”people stare so when one is in the middle of the room.”

Hal sat down and drew off her gloves, feeling, in spite of herself, unmistakably happy. It was good to be there, instead of trudging home to Bloomsbury; and it was specially good to be chatting to him again.

A dear friend may be always a dear friend, and yet not just the one one wants at the moment. When things are difficult, and irritating, and disappointing, the pleasantest companion is apt to be one with so much individual regard for us at the time that we can hold forth upon our troubles without any fear of boring our listener.

When Hal had poured her tale of woe into Lorraine's ear, she had known that Lorraine was genuinely interested and sorry - and yet, also, that something else occupied her mind at the same time. Sitting now, opposite to Sir Edwin Crathie, it was perfectly apparent for the time being that his mind was entirely at her service.

This was further shown by the fact that he realised something was worrying her before she told him.

”What's the matter?” he asked abruptly; ”you look as if something very boring had happened.”

”It has.”

Hal kept her eyes lowered a moment, with a thoughtful air, and the corners of the fascinating mouth drooped a little.

”What has happened?... Tell me what is bothering you.”

He spoke reremptorily, yet with an evident concern for her that made the peremptory tone dangerously alluring. Hal remained silent, though she felt her pulses quicken, and he added:

”Come, we are going to be friends again; aren't we? I've told you I'm very sorry; I can't do more. You will really have to forgive me now.”

She looked into his face, and something in his eyes told her he was quite genuine for the time. Of course it might be rash, and unwise, and various other things, but it had been a difficult, trying week, and his sympathy was pa.s.sing good now. Sir Edwin met her gaze for a moment, and then lowered his.

He thought it was chiefly when her eyes laughed that he wanted to kiss her, but when they had that serious, rather appealing expression, he began to feel they were more disturbing still. Mastering his unmanageable senses with an effort, he looked up again, and said:

”Well, what is it? Of course you must tell me.”

”Brother Dudley is going to be married,” said Hal with her usual directness.

”When?” And Sir Edwin gave a low exclamation of surprise. ”Isn't it rather sudden?”

”Very,” in dry tones.

”And I suppose you don't want to love your prospective sister-in-law all in a hurry.”

”I don't want to love her at all.”

”Then I don't suppose you will,” with a little laugh. ”Presumably you know her.”

”I have known her a long time. If I had been asked, she is the last girl I could have believed Dudley would care for. I don't believe he does care for her in the real sense. She is very pretty, and she wanted to marry him, and she just played on his feelings.”

”What do you call 'in the real sense' ?” he asked pointedly.

”A pink spot burned in Hal's cheeks; she felt the question a little beside the mark, and did not want to answer it.

”She has rather a dull home, and is very poor, and I think she thought on the whole life would be improved if she were Dudley's wife.”

”And that is not the real sense?” insistently.

”It certainly is not love.”