Part 36 (1/2)

It had been from the beginning of things a Trojan dictum that the revealing of emotion was the worst of gaucheries--Clare, Garrett, and Robin himself had been schooled in this matter from their respective cradles; and now the lesson must be put into practice.

For Robin, of course, it was no revelation at all, but he dared not look at his aunt; he understood a little what it must mean to her. To those that watched her, however, nothing was revealed. She stood by the fire, her hands at her side, her head slightly turned towards her brother.

”Might I ask,” she said quietly, ”the name of the fortunate lady?”

”Miss Bethel!”

”Miss Bethel!” Garrett sprang to his feet. ”Harry, you must be joking! You can't mean it! Not the daughter of Bethel at the Point--the madman!--the----”

”Please, Garrett,” said Harry, ”remember that she has promised to be my wife. I am sorry, Clare----”

He turned round to his sister.

But she had said nothing. She pulled a chair from the table and sat down, quietly, without obvious emotion.

”It is a little unexpected,” she said. ”But really if we had considered things it was obvious enough. It is all of a piece. Robin tried for Breach of Promise, the Bethels in the house before father has been buried for three days--the policy and traditions of the last three hundred years upset in three weeks.”

”Of course,” said Harry, ”I could scarcely expect you to welcome the change. You do not know Miss Bethel. I am afraid you are a little prejudiced against her. And, indeed, please--please, believe me that it has been my very last wish to go counter in any way to your own plans. But it has seemed almost unavoidable; we have found that one thing after another has arisen about which we could not agree. Is it too late now to reconsider the position? Couldn't we pull together from this moment?”

But she interrupted him. ”Come, Harry,” she said, ”whatever we are, let us avoid hypocrisy. You have beaten me at every point and I must retire. I have seen in three weeks everything that I had cared for and loved destroyed. You come back a stranger, and without knowing or caring for the proper dignity of the House, you have done what you pleased. Finally, you are bringing a woman into the House whose parents are beggars, whose social position makes her unworthy of such a marriage. You cannot expect me to love you for it. From this moment we cease to exist for each other. I hope that I may never see you again or hear from you. I shall not indulge in heroics or melodrama, but I will never forgive you. I suppose that the house at Norfolk is at my disposal?”

”Certainly,” he answered. Then he turned to his brother. ”I hope, Garrett,” he said, ”that you do not feel as strongly about the matter as Clare. I should be very glad if you found it possible to remain.”

That gentleman was in a difficult position; he changed colour and tried to avoid his sister's eyes. After a rapid survey of the position, he had come to the conclusion that he would not be nearly as comfortable in Norfolk--he could not write his book as easily, and the house had scarcely the same position of importance. He had grown fond of the place. Harry, after all, was not a bad chap--he seemed very anxious to be pleasant; and even Mary Bethel mightn't turn out so badly.

”You see, Clare,” he said slowly, ”there is the book--and--well, on the whole, I think it would be almost better if I remained; it is not, of course, that----”

Clare's lip curled scornfully.

”I understand, Garrett, you could scarcely be expected to leave such comforts for so slight a reason. And you, Robin?”

She held the chair with her hand as she spoke. The fury at her heart was such that she could scarcely breathe; she was quite calm, but she had a mad desire to seize Harry as he sat there at the table and strangle him with her hands. And Garrett!--the contemptible coward!

But if only Robin would come with her, then the rest mattered little.

After all, it had only been a fortnight ago when he had stood at her side and rejected his father. The scene now was parallel--her voice grew soft and trembled a little as she spoke to him.

”Robin, dear, what will you do? Will you come with me?”

For a moment father and son looked at each other, then Robin answered--

”I shall be very glad to come and stay sometimes, Aunt Clare--often--whenever you care to have me. But I think that I must stay here. I have been talking to father and I am going up to London to try, I think, for the Diplomatic. We thought----”

But the ”we” was too much for her.

”I congratulate you,” she said, turning to Harry. ”You have done a great deal in three weeks. It looks,” she said, looking round the room, ”almost like a conspiracy. I----” Then she suddenly broke down.

She bent down over Robin and caught his head between her hands--

”Robin--Robin dear--you must come, you must, dear. I brought you up--I have loved you--always--always. You can't leave me now, old boy, after all that I have done--all, everything. Why, he has done nothing--he----”