Part 24 (1/2)

”Isn't it?” she said ingenuously. ”It often amuses me too. I did it for a freak--and--a reason.”

”But why 'Fenham'? You haven't really married any--er--fool of that name?”

”Not a bit. Thanks for the implied compliment all the same. The name did as well as any other. That's all.”

”What has become of Spence?”

”I don't know, and don't care. He turned out rather a cur,” she answered with a light laugh, showing no more confusion or restraint in alluding to the circ.u.mstance, than he had done when first she broached the subject of their parting. ”I had more than enough of him in three months, and couldn't stand the sight of him in five. He had just succeeded to a lot of money, you know, and became afflicted with swelled head there and then; in fact, became intolerably b.u.mptious.”

”Yes, I heard that from Skelsey, just when I was wondering hard how Spence was in a sudden position to undertake a--well, not inexpensive liability.”

She gave him a little punch on the arm--not ill-naturedly, for she was rather amused.

”It's mean of you to say that, Hilary. Come now, you can't say _you_ found it an 'expensive liability.'”

”Well, I'll concede I didn't, Hermia--not pecuniarily, that is. But it isn't to say that Spence would not have. I thought you were going to make a serious business of it that time. Why didn't you? You had hooked your fish, and seemed to be playing him all right. Then, just when you ought to have gaffed him--up goes the top joint, whipping aloft, and the fish is off.”

”He was a cur, and I'm well rid of him,” she returned, and there was a hard, vindictive gleam in her dark eyes. ”I did mean serious business, and so did he--very much so. Do you know what choked him off, Hilary?

It was when he learned there was no necessity for you to set me free-- that I was free as air already. While he thought I was beyond his reach, he declared he was only living for the day when I was no longer so. But, directly he found I was quite within it, and had been all along, he cooled off with a sort of magical rapidity.”

”Yes. Human nature is that way--and here too, there was an additional psychological motive. The knowledge would be likely to make a difference, you know. Knock a few chips out of your--er--prestige.”

She burst out laughing. ”You have a neat, but rather horrid way of putting things, Hilary. Yes. I quite see what you mean.”

He made no reply, and for some moments they strolled on in silence. He could not refuse to entertain a certain amount of admiration for the consummate and practical coolness of this woman. She would make an ideal adventuress. Nor did he in the very least believe that she was destined to come to grief--as by all the rules of morality he ought to have believed. That was not the way of life. She would probably end by entrapping some fool--either very old, or very young--endowed with infinitely more bullion or valuable scrip than gumption or self-control, and flas.h.i.+ng out into a very s.h.i.+ning light of pattern respectability.

”What are you thinking about, Hilary?” she said at last, stealing a side look at him. ”Are you still the least little bit angry with me about-- er--about things?”

”Not in the least. I never was. You had had enough of me--we had had enough of each other. The only thing to do was to separate. You may remember I told you so not long before?”

”I remember. And, Hilary--You would not--stand in my way if--”

”Certainly not. If you can humbug, to your advantage, any fool worth humbugging, that's no business on earth of mine--”

”Ah, that's just what I thought of you, Hilary,” she said, her whole face lighting up with animation. ”You were always a head and shoulders above any other man I ever knew.”

”--But--” he resumed, lifting a warning hand as he stopped and faced her. ”There is one and one only I must warn you off, and that most uncompromisingly.”

”Who is it?”

The very tone was hard and rasping, and her face had gone pale. All the light and animation had died out of her eyes as she raised them to his.

”That unspeakable young a.s.s of a cousin of mine--Percy West.”

”But--why?”

”Hermia, think. How on earth can you ask such a question? The boy is like a younger brother to me, and on no consideration whatever will I stand by and allow his life to be utterly spoiled, wrecked and ruined at the very outset.”

”Why should his life be wrecked or ruined?” she said sullenly, but with averted gaze. ”I could make him very happy.”