XXIII
"This is very nearly my idea of perfect happiness," Sophy murmured, asshe leaned across the table and listened idly while John ordered thedinner. "Give me very little to eat, John, and talk a great deal to me.I am depressed about myself and worried about everything!"
"And I," he declared, "am just beginning to breathe again. I don't thinkI understand women, Sophy."
"Wasn't your week-end party a success?" she asked.
"Not altogether," he confessed; "but don't let's talk about it. Tell mewhat is depressing you."
"About myself, or things generally?"
"Yourself, first."
"Well, the most respectable young man you ever knew in your life, wholives in Bath, wants me to marry him. I don't think I could. I don'tthink I could live in Bath, and I don't think I could marry any one. AndI've just thirteen shillings and fourpence left, I haven't paid my rent,and my dressmaker is calling for something on account on Mondaymorning."
"There's only one answer to that," John insisted cheerfully. "I am goingto lend you fifty pounds while you make your mind up about the youngman."
She made a face at him.
"I couldn't borrow money from a strange gentleman," she protested.
"Rubbish!" he exclaimed. "If you begin calling me a stranger--butthere, never mind! We'll see about that after dinner. Now what is theother cause for depression?"
"I am not very happy about you and Louise," she observed.
"Why not?"
She hesitated. While she seemed to be pondering over her words, Johnstudied her almost critically. Unquestionably she was very pretty; herfair hair was most becomingly arranged, her petite features and delicatemouth were charming. Her complexion and coloring were exquisite, herneck and throat very white against the plain black satin of her gown.
"In a way," she confessed at last, "it's the play that's bothering me."
"The play?" he repeated.
"You won't like it," she sighed. "The reason the production has beendelayed so long is Graillot's insistence upon calling a spade a spade.Even with all Louise and Miles Faraday have managed to get him to leaveout, there is one scene which is certainly a little startling forEnglish playgoers."
"And Louise is in it?" he asked.
"Louise is the principal figure in it."
John's face darkened a little.
"I have noticed lately," he remarked gloomily, "that she rather avoidstalking about the play. I wish she'd chuck it altogether!"
Sophy shook her head.
"Louise won't do that," she said. "I sometimes think that her work ismore to her than anything else in life. I suppose you two will find away out of it, somehow."
"There is only one way, and Louise will have to make up her mind toit," John declared steadfastly. "However, my time hasn't come just yet.Until it comes, I must make the best of things. Tell me more about yourown love-affairs, Sophy."
"It isn't a love-affair at all!" she exclaimed, almost indignantly.
"Why, I am sorry. Your prospective alliance, then, shall I call it?"
"Oh, it isn't interesting," she said. "It's just a young man in Bath. Heis a lawyer and moderately well off. He has wanted me to marry him foryears. He was a friend of my brother's. Lately he has been bothering alittle more than usual--in fact, I suppose I have received what might becalled an ultimatum. He came up yesterday, and I went out with him lastnight. He has gone back to Bath this morning, and I have promised to lethim know in a month. I think that is why I went out to Waterloo Bridgein a mackintosh and got wet."
"Do you like him?" John asked practically.
"I like him, I suppose," Sophy sighed. "That's the worst of it. If Ididn't like him, there might be some chance. I can't realize myself everdoing more than liking him in a mild sort of way; and if he expectedmore, as of course he would, then I should probably hate him. He triedto kiss me on the way to the station and I nearly scratched him. Thatisn't like me, you know. I rather like being kissed sometimes."
John buried himself in the wine-list.
"Well," he admitted, "it doesn't sound very hopeful. I'm no sort ofjudge in these matters, but I have heard lots of people say that onegets on all right after marriage without caring very much before. Youdon't seem to have a very comfortable life now, do you?"
"Comfortable? No, but I am free," Sophy replied quickly. "I can come inand go out when I please, choose my own friends, give my kisses to whomI please. Marriage--the sort of marriage mine would be--is slavery, andnothing else. What I am afraid of," she went on, "is that when I wasdown in that highly respectable old city, sitting all day in arespectable little villa, with two servants to order about andhousekeeping-books to keep, I should feel the old pull come over me, andsome day I should chuck it all and come back here to play around underthe lights. It's rather fine to be here, you know--to be in theatmosphere, even if the lime-light misses one."
John sighed, and regarded her thoughtfully.
"You're a queer little girl, Sophy," he said. "I don't know how toadvise you."
"Of course you don't," she answered. "No one could. As for you, Isuppose you will marry Louise. What will happen to you after that, Idon't know. Perhaps I sha'n't care so much about London then. You'vemade it very nice for me, you know."
"You've made it bearable even for me," he told her. "I often think howlonely I should have been without you to talk to. Louise sometimes isdelightfully companionable, and kind enough to turn one's head. Otherdays I scarcely understand her; everything we say to one another seemswrong. I come away and leave her simply because I feel that there is awall between us that I can't get over."
"There isn't really," Sophy sighed. "Louise is a dear. Consideringeverything, I think she is wonderful. But you are utterly different. Sheis very complex, very emotional, and she has her own standards of life.You, on the other hand, are very simple, very faithful and honest, andyou accept the standards which have been made for you--very, veryrigidly, John."
"I wonder!" he murmured, as he looked into his wine-glass. "Sometimes Ithink I am a fool. Sometimes I think I'd do better to let go the stringsand just live as others do. Sometimes ideas come into one's head thatupset principles and everything. I don't know!"
Sophy leaned across the table toward him.
"Be a little more human, John," she begged. "You must feel kind thingssometimes. Couldn't you say them? I am depressed and gloomy. Be likeother men, for once, and flirt with me a little! Try to say things, evenif you don't mean them--just for once, for a few short hours!"
He held her hand for a moment. The fingers seemed to respond to histouch with a little thrill.
"You silly child!" he exclaimed. "If I were to begin to say all the kindthings I feel about you--"
"Begin, then--begin!" she interrupted. "What do you think of me, really?Am I pretty? Do you like to have me here at the table with you, or isyour mind too full of Louise? Do you notice that I've a pretty frock on,and my hair is nicely arranged? I have taken so much trouble to-night.What are you looking at?"
John's whole expression had suddenly changed. His eyes were fixed uponthe door, his face was stern as a granite block. Sophy turned quicklyaround. The _maitre d'hotel_, with another satellite in his rear, waswelcoming with much ceremony two lately arrived guests. Sophy clutchedat the table-cloth. The newcomers were Louise and the Prince of Seyre.
"I don't understand this!" John muttered, his lips twitching.
Sophy Gerard said nothing. Her cheeks were pink with excitement.
Suddenly Louise saw John and Sophy. She stood quite still for a moment;then she came toward them, slowly and a little languidly. The prince wasstill studying through his eye-glass the various tables which the headwaiter was offering for his consideration.
"What an astonishing meeting!" Louise remarked, as she laid her hand fora moment on Sophy's shoulder. "What is going on behind my back?"
John rose very slowly to his feet. He seemed taller than ever, andLouise's smile remained una
nswered.
"The rain broke up my week-end party," he explained, "and I met Sophy inthe Strand. In any case, I intended returning to-night. I understoodthat you would not be here until to-morrow about eleven o'clock."
"Those were my plans," Louise replied; "but, as you see, other thingshave intervened. Our little house party, too, was broken up by thisabominable weather, and we all motored up to town. The Faradays havegone home. The prince heard from Miles that I was at home, andtelephoned me to dine. _Me voici!_"
John was struggling with a crowd of hateful thoughts. Louise was wearinga wonderful gown; her hair was beautifully arranged; she had the air ofa woman whose toilet was complete and perfect down to the slightestdetail. The prince's slow drawl reached them distinctly.
"It was my servant's fault, I suppose," he said. "I told him to ring uplast night and order the table for two in that corner. However, we willtake the vacant one near your desk."
He looked around and, as if for the first time, missed Louise. He cametoward them at once.
"The prince seems to have ordered his table last night," John remarked,his tone, even to himself, sounding queer and strained.
Louise made no reply. The prince was already shaking hands with Sophy.
"I thought you were spending the week-end with my cousin, Strangewey,"he remarked, turning to John.
"We did spend part of it together," John replied. "The weather drove usback this afternoon."
"I congratulate you both on your good taste," said the prince. "There isnothing more abominable than a riverside retreat out of season. We aretaking the table on the left, Louise."
He led her away, and they passed down the room. John slowly resumed hisseat.
"Sophy," he demanded hoarsely, "tell me the truth. Is there anythingbetween the prince and Louise?"
Sophy nervously crumbled up the toast by her side.
"The prince admires Louise, and has done so for many years," sheanswered. "No one knows anything else. Louise never speaks of him to me.I cannot tell you."
"But you must know," he persisted, with a little break in his voice."Forgive me, Sophy, if I make an ass of myself. First Lady Hilda, andthen Graillot, and then--well, I thought Louise might have rung up tosee whether I was at home, if she came back sooner than she expected;and the prince took the table last night!"
She leaned over and patted him on the hand.
"Don't worry," she begged. "If Louise has to choose some day between himand you, I don't think she'll hesitate very long. And please rememberthat you were commencing to flirt with me. I insist upon it! I won't beput off. Don't look so stern, please. You look very statuesque andperfect, but I don't want to dine with a piece of sculpture. Rememberthat I am really looking very pretty, and that I am finding you tooattractive for my peace of mind. There's your text!"
He poured a glass of wine and drank it off.
"I'll do my best," he agreed. "If it sounds like rubbish, you can stillbelieve that I appreciate everything you've told me. You are pretty, andI am lucky to have you here. Now I'll try to make you believe that Ithink so."
She leaned over so that her head almost touched his.
"Go on, please!" she murmured. "Even if it hurts afterward, it will beheavenly to listen to!"
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