Part 24 (1/2)
”I should like,” Miss Merton said, ”to tell you about Lord Wolfenden and myself.”
Helene smiled languidly.
”You will excuse me, I am sure,” she said. ”It is scarcely a matter which interests me.”
Miss Merton flushed angrily. She was at a disadvantage and she knew it.
”I thought that you were very much interested in Lord Wolfenden,” she said spitefully.
”I have found him much pleasanter than the majority of Englishmen.”
”But you don't care to hear about him--from me!” Miss Merton exclaimed.
Helene smiled.
”I have no desire to be rude,” she said, ”but since you put it in that way I will admit that you are right.”
The girl bit her lip. She felt that she had only partially succeeded. This girl was more than her match. She suddenly changed her tactics.
”Oh! you are cruel,” she exclaimed. ”You want to take him from me; I know you do! He promised--to marry me--before you came. He must marry me! I dare not go home!”
”I can a.s.sure you,” Helene said quietly, ”that I have not the faintest desire to take Lord Wolfenden from you--or from any one else! I do not like this conversation at all, and I do not intend to continue it. Perhaps if you have nothing more to say you will go to your room, or if you wish to go away I will order a carriage for you. Please make up your mind quickly.”
Miss Merton sprang up and walked towards the door. Her pretty face was distorted with anger.
”I do not want your carriage,” she said. ”I am leaving the house, but I will walk.”
”Just as you choose, if you only go,” Helene murmured.
She was already at the door, but she turned back.
”I can't help it!” she exclaimed. ”I've got to ask you a question. Has Lord Wolfenden asked you to marry him?”
Helene was disgusted, but she was not hard-hearted. The girl was evidently distressed--it never occurred to her that she might not be in earnest. She herself could not understand such a lack of self-respect. A single gleam of pity mingled with her contempt.
”I am not at liberty to answer your question,” she said coldly, ”as it concerns Lord Wolfenden as well as myself. But I have no objection to telling you this. I am the Princess Helene of Bourbon, and I am betrothed to my cousin, Prince Henri of Ortrens! So you see that I am not likely to marry Lord Wolfenden! Now, please, go away at once!”
Miss Merton obeyed. She left the room literally speechless. Helene rang the bell.
”If that young person--Miss Merton I think her name is--attempts to see me again before I leave, be sure that she is not admitted,” she told the servant.
The man bowed and left the room. Helene was left alone. She sank into an easy chair by the fire and leaned her head upon her hand. Her self-control was easy and magnificent, but now that she was alone her face had softened. The proud, little mouth was quivering. A feeling of uneasiness, of utter depression stole over her. Tears stood for a moment in her eyes but she brushed them fiercely away.
”How could he have dared?” she murmured. ”I wish that I were a man! After all, then, it must be--ambition!”
CHAPTER x.x.xV.
A LITTLE GAME OF CARDS.
Mr. Sabin, whose carriage had set him down at the Cromer railway station with barely two minutes to spare, took his seat in an empty first-cla.s.s smoking carriage of the London train and deliberately lit a fine cigar. He was filled with that sense of triumphant self-satisfaction which falls to the lot of a man who, after much arduous labour successfully accomplished, sees very near at hand the great desire of his life. Two days' more quiet work, and his task was done. All that he had pledged himself to give, he would have ready for the offering. The finis.h.i.+ng touches were but a matter of detail. It had been a great undertaking--more difficult at times than he had ever reckoned for. He told himself with some complacency that no other man breathing could have brought it to so satisfactory a conclusion. His had been a life of great endeavours; this one, however, was the crowning triumph of his career.
He watched the people take their seats in the train with idle eyes; he was not interested in any of them. He scarcely saw their faces; they were not of his world nor he of theirs. But suddenly he received a rude shock. He sat upright and wiped away the moisture from the window in order that he might see more clearly. A young man in a long ulster was buying newspapers from a boy only a yard or two away. Something about the figure and manner of standing seemed to Mr. Sabin vaguely familiar. He waited until his head was turned, and the eyes of the two men met--then the last vestige of doubt disappeared. It was Felix! Mr. Sabin leaned back in his corner with darkening face. He had noticed to his dismay that the encounter, surprising though it had been to him, had been accepted by Felix as a matter of course--he was obviously prepared for it. He had met Mr. Sabin's anxious and incredulous gaze with a faint, peculiar smile. His probable presence in the train had evidently been confidently reckoned upon. Felix had been watching him secretly, and knowing what he did know of that young man, Mr. Sabin was seriously disturbed. He did not hesitate for a moment, however, to face the position. He determined at once upon a bold course of action. Letting down the window he put out his head.
”Are you going to town?” he asked Felix, as though seeing him then was the most natural thing in the world.
The young man nodded.
”Yes, it's getting pretty dreary down here, isn't it? You're off back, I see.”
Mr. Sabin a.s.sented.
”Yes,” he said, ”I've had about enough of it. Besides, I'm overdue at Pau, and I'm anxious to get there. Are you coming in here?”
Felix hesitated. At first the suggestion had astonished him; almost immediately it became a temptation. It would be distinctly piquant to travel with this man. On the other hand it was distinctly unwise; it was running an altogether unnecessary risk. Mr. Sabin read his thoughts with the utmost ease.
”I should rather like to have a little chat with you,” he said quietly; ”you are not afraid, are you? I am quite unarmed, and as you see Nature has not made me for a fighting man.”
Felix hesitated no longer. He motioned to the porter who was carrying his dressing-case and golf clubs, and had them conveyed into Mr. Sabin's carriage. He himself took the opposite seat.
”I had no idea,” Mr. Sabin remarked, ”that you were in the neighbourhood.”
Felix smiled.
”You have been so engrossed in your--golf,” he remarked. ”It is a fascinating game, is it not?”
”Very,” Mr. Sabin a.s.sented. ”You yourself are a devotee, I see.”
”I am a beginner,” Felix answered, ”and a very clumsy beginner too. I take my clubs with me, however, whenever I go to the coast at this time of year; they save one from being considered a madman.”
”It is singular,” Mr. Sabin remarked, ”that you should have chosen to visit Cromer just now. It is really a most interesting meeting. I do not think that I have had the pleasure of seeing you since that evening at the 'Milan,' when your behaviour towards me--forgive my alluding to it--was scarcely considerate.”
Mr. Sabin was quite friendly and unembarra.s.sed. He seemed to treat the affair as a joke. Felix looked glumly out of the window.
”Your luck stood you in good stead--as usual,” he said. ”I meant to kill you that night. You see I don't mind confessing it! I had sworn to make the attempt the first time we met face to face.”
”Considering that we are quite alone,” Mr. Sabin remarked, looking around the carriage, ”and that from physical considerations my life under such conditions is entirely at your mercy, I should like some a.s.surance that you have no intention of repeating the attempt. It would add very materially to my comfort.”
The young man smiled without immediately answering. Then he was suddenly grave; he appeared to be reflecting. Almost imperceptibly Mr. Sabin's hand stole towards the window. He was making a mental calculation as to what height above the carriage window the communication cord might be. Felix, watching his fingers, smiled again.
”You need have no fear,” he said; ”the cause of personal enmity between you and me is dead. You have nothing more to fear from me at any time.”
Mr. Sabin's hand slid down again to his side.
”I am charmed to hear it,” he declared. ”You are, I presume, in earnest?”
”Most certainly. It is as I say; the cause for personal enmity between us is removed. Save for a strong personal dislike, which under the circ.u.mstances I trust that you will pardon me”--Mr. Sabin bowed--”I have no feeling towards you whatever!”