Part 91 (2/2)

The Beth Book Sarah Grand 39870K 2022-07-22

”Hardly!” Beth said, glancing up at her escort. ”But even if I were, Mr. Pounce, I am in London, not in the dark ages, and as sure of respect here, at the doors of a theatre, as I am in my own drawing-room. I believe, by the way,” she added lightly, not liking to hurt him by too blunt a snub, ”I believe this is the only big city in Europe of which so much can be said; and English women may thank themselves for it. We demand not protection, but respect. Here is the carriage. Good night!” She stepped in as she spoke, and took her seat.

”Oh pray, you really must allow me to see you safe home,” he exclaimed, following her into the carriage and taking the seat beside her before she could remonstrate. The servant shut the door, and they drove away. Beth boiled with indignation, but she thought it more dignified not to show it, and she dreaded to have a scene before the servants. Her demeanour was somewhat frigid, and she left him to open the conversation; but when he spoke she answered him in her usual tone. He, on the contrary, was extremely formal. He stroked his pointed beard, looked out of the window, and made remarks about the weather and the people in the streets, not avoiding the obvious, which was a relief.

The hall-door was opened as soon as the carriage stopped, and they got out.

”Thank you for your escort, and good night,” Beth said, holding out her hand to him, but he ignored it.

”I feel faint,” he said, and he looked it. ”Will you let me come in and sit down a minute, and give me a gla.s.s of water?”

”Why, of course,” Beth said. ”But have something stronger than water.

Come this way, into the library. Roberts, bring Mr. Pounce something to revive him.”

”What will you have, sir?” the butler asked.

”A gla.s.s of water, nothing but a gla.s.s of water,” Mr. Pounce said, most preciously, sinking into an easy-chair as he spoke.

The butler brought the water, and told Beth that Mr. and Mrs. Kilroy had not come in. She ordered some tea for herself.

Mr. Pounce sipped the water and appeared to revive.

”I have suffered terribly during the last three weeks,” he said at last.

”Have you really?” Beth rejoined with concern. ”What was the matter?”

”Need you ask!” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. ”Why, why have you treated me so?”

”Really, Mr. Pounce, I do not see that you have any claim on my special consideration,” Beth answered coldly.

”I have the claim of one who is entirely devoted to you,” he said.

”I have never accepted your devotion, and I will not have it forced upon me,” Beth answered decidedly. ”I should like you better, to tell the truth, if you were a little more devoted to your duty.”

”You allude to my wife,” he said. ”Oh, how can I make you understand!

But you have said it yourself--duty! What is duty? The conscientious performance of uncongenial tasks. But if a man does his duty, then he deserves his reward. I do my duty with what heart I have for it. No fault can be found with me either as a husband or a citizen.

Therefore, as a man, I consider myself ent.i.tled to claim my reward.”

”I am afraid you are not well,” Beth said. ”Don't you think you had better go home and rest?”

”Not until we come to an understanding,” he answered tragically.

Beth shrugged her shoulders resignedly, folded her hands, and waited, more interested in him as a human specimen in spite of herself than disturbed by anything his att.i.tude foreboded.

There was a bright wood fire burning on the hearth. Mrs. Kilroy liked to have one to welcome her when they had been out late, not for warmth so much as for cheerfulness. The summer midnight was chilly enough, however, for the gentle heat to be grateful; and Beth turned to the blaze and gazed into it tranquilly. The clock on the mantelpiece struck one. Roberts brought in a tray with refreshments on it, and set it down on a small table beside Beth. Before she helped herself she asked Mr. Pounce what he would have, but he curtly declined to take anything. She shrugged her shoulders, and fell-to herself with a healthy appet.i.te.

”How can you--how can you?” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed several times.

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