Part 17 (2/2)
Wellgood smiled sourly. ”You know better than to try that on me, Master Harry.”
”Yes! Well, I'll cut that, but I just want to mention--as a matter of business, which may affect your arrangements--that Vivien has promised to marry me.”
Vivien had stolen up to her father and now laid her hand lightly on his shoulder. He looked at her with a kindly sneer, then patted her hand.
”You like the fellow, do you, Vivien?”
”Yes, father.”
”Then I daresay we can fix matters up. Shake hands, Harry.”
Vivien kissed his forehead; the two men shook hands.
”I daresay you're not exactly taken by surprise,” said Harry, laughing.
”I've been calling rather often!”
”It had struck me that something was up.”
Wellgood was almost genial; he was really highly pleased. The match was an excellent one for his daughter; he liked Harry, despite a lurking suspicion that he was ”soft;” and the way now lay open for his own plan.
”You haven't asked me for my congratulations, Vivien,” said Isobel.
Vivien went over to her and kissed her, then sat down by the table, her eyes fixed on Harry. She was very quiet in her happiness; she felt so peaceful, so secure. Such was the efficacy of those wonderful words!
”And I wish you all happiness too, Mr. Harry,” Isobel went on with a smile. ”Perhaps you'll forgive me if I say that I'm not altogether taken by surprise either?”
Harry did not quite like her smile; there seemed to be a touch of ridicule about it. It covertly reminded him of their talk before tea, before he went to the west wood.
”I never had much hope of blinding your eyes, so I didn't even try, Miss Vintry.”
”I was thinking it must come to a head soon,” she remarked.
Harry flushed ever so slightly. She was hinting at the laggard in love again; it almost seemed as if she were hinting that she had brought the affair to a head. In the west wood he had forgotten her subtle taunt; he had thought of nothing but his pa.s.sion, and how impatient it was. Now he remembered, and knew that he was being derided, even in his hour of triumph. He felt another impulse of anger against her. This time it took the form of a desire to show her that he was no fool, not a man a woman could play with as she chose. He would like to show her what a dangerous game that was. He was glad when, having shot her tiny sharp-pointed dart, she rose and went into the house. ”You'll want to talk it all over with Mr. Wellgood!” He did not want to think of her; only of Vivien.
”Poor Isobel!” said Vivien. ”She's very nice about it, isn't she?
Because she can't really be pleased.”
Both men looked rather surprised; each was roused from his train of thought. Both had been thinking about Isobel, but the thoughts of neither consorted well with Vivien's ”Poor Isobel!”
”Why not?” asked Harry.
”It means the loss of her situation, Harry.”
”Of course! I never thought of that.”
”Don't you young people be in too great a hurry,” said Wellgood, with the satisfied smile of a man with a secret. ”You're not going to be married the day after to-morrow! There's lots of time for something to turn up for Isobel. She needn't be pitied. Perhaps she may be tired of you and your ways, young woman, and glad to be rid of her job!”
”Lucky there's somebody ready to take her place, then, isn't it?”
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