Part 59 (1/2)
”I'm glad you admit that much! I say--I suppose you--you haven't heard anything of Vivien Wellgood?”
”I hear she's in excellent health and spirits.”
”I've never been so cut up about anything. Still, of course, she was a mere girl, and--well, things pa.s.s!”
”Luckily things pa.s.s. I've no doubt she'll soon console herself.”
”He'll be a very lucky fellow,” said Harry handsomely. After all, he himself had admired Vivien, and his taste was good.
”He will. In fact I think I know only one man good enough for her--and that's Andy Hayes.”
Harry's face was suddenly transformed to a peevish amazement.
”My dear girl, are you out of your mind? Don't say such silly things!
Old Andy's a good chap, but the idea that Vivien would look at him! He's not her cla.s.s; and she's the most fastidious little creature alive--as dainty and fastidious as can be!” He smiled again--probably at some reminiscence.
”I don't see why her being fastidious should prevent her liking Andy.”
Harry broke into open impatience. ”I like old Andy--well, I think I've done something to prove that--but, upon my soul, you all seem to have gone mad about him. You all ram him down a man's throat. It's possible to have too much of him, good fellow as he is. He and Vivien Wellgood!
Well, it's simply d.a.m.ned ridiculous!” He took out his watch and, as he looked at it, exclaimed with great irritation, ”Why the devil doesn't this woman come?”
”I thought Mrs. Belfield was always so punctual?”
”It's not Mrs. Belfield,” Harry snapped out.
”Well, don't be disagreeable to the poor woman simply because I said something you didn't like.”
”Something I didn't like? That's an absurd way of putting it. It's only that to be for ever hearing of n.o.body but--”
”That tall young woman over there seems to be staring rather hard at you and me, Harry.”
”By gad, it is her! I must run.” His smiles broke out again. ”I say, Doris, I shall get into trouble over this! You're looking your best, my dear, and she's as jealous as--I must run! Au revoir!”
”It's not Mrs. Freere--so I suppose it's Lady Lucy,” thought the Nun.
She was in high good temper at the result of her casual allusion to Andy Hayes. The shoe pinched there, did it? She was not vicious towards Harry; she wished him no harm--indeed she wished him more good than he would be likely to welcome--but the extreme complacency of his manner in the earlier part of their talk stirred her resentment. Her suggestion about Andy Hayes put a quick end to that.
Lady Lucy had an impudent little face, with an impudent little turned-up nose. She settled herself cosily into her chair on the balcony and peeled off her gloves.
”I'm so glad we're just by ourselves--I mean, since poor Mrs. Belfield wasn't well enough to come. I was afraid of finding Lily Freere!”
”What made you afraid of that?” asked Harry, smiling.
”Well, she is about with you a good deal, isn't she? Does your wife like being managed so much? Or is it your choice?”
”Mrs. Freere's an old friend.”
”So I've always understood!”