by Elinor Glyn
XX
"Oh, Crow, dear, what are we to do, then?" said Lady Anningford."Surely, surely you don't anticipate any sudden catastrophe? In thesedays people never run away--"
"No," said the Crow. "They stay at home until the footman, or the man'slast mistress, or the woman's dearest friend, send anonymous letters tothe husband."
"But--"
"Well, I tell you, Queen Anne, to me this appears serious. I know Hectorpretty well, and I have never seen him as far gone as this before. Thewoman--she is a mere child--looks as unsophisticated as a baby, andprobably is. She won't have the least idea of managing the affair. Shewill tumble headlong into it."
"Well, what is to be done, then?" exclaimed Anne, piteously.
"You had better talk to him quietly. He is very fond of you. Thoughnothing, I am afraid, will be of the least use," said the Crow.
"But if she is going into the country they won't meet," reasoned Anne."You saw the dreadful-looking husband just now. Will he be the colonialwho will object, do you think, or the English snob who won't?"
But the Crow refused to give any more opinions except in general.
It all came, he said, from the ridiculous marriage laws in thisover-civilized country. Why should not people eminently suited to eachother be allowed to be happy?
"It is too bad, Crow," said Anne. "You take it for granted that Hectorhas the most dishonorable intentions towards Mrs. Brown. He may worshipher quite in the abstract."
"Fiddle-dee-dee, my child!" said Colonel Lowerby. "Look at him! Youdon't understand the fundamental principles of human nature if you saythat. When a man is madly in love with a woman, nature says, 'This isyour mate,' not a saint of alabaster on a church altar. There arenumbers of animals about who find a 'mate' in every woman they comeacross. But Hector is not that sort. Look at his face--look at him nowthey are passing us, and tell me if you see any abstract about it?"
Anne was forced to admit she did not; and it was with intense uneasinessshe saw her brother and his partner stop, and disappear through one ofthe doors towards the supper-room.
When her mother perceived the situation--or Morella--disagreeablemoments would begin at once for everybody!
Meanwhile, the culprits were extremely happy.
With the finest and noblest intention in the world, Theodora was tooyoung, and too healthy, not to have become exhilarated with the danceand the scene. Something whispered, Why should she not enjoy herselfto-night? What harm could there be in dancing? Every one danced--andJosiah, himself, had left her alone.
Hector had not said a word that she must rebuke him for; they had justwaltzed and thrilled, and been--happy!
And now she was going to eat some supper with him, and forget there wereany to-morrows.
They found a secluded corner, and spent half an hour in perfect peace.Hector was an artist in pleasing women--and to-night, though he neveronce transgressed in words, she could feel through it all that he lovedher--loved her madly. His voice was so tender and deep, and his thoughtfor her slightest wish and comfort so evident; he was masterful, too,and settled what she was to do--where to sit, and now and then he madeher look at him.
He was just so wildly happy he could not stop to count the cost; andwhile he worshipped her more deeply than when they had sat on the softgreensward at Versailles, even the whole sight of her pure soul nowcould not stop him--now he knew she loved him, and that there werepossible others on the scene. She had trusted him--had appealed to hissuperior strength; he did not forget that fact quite--but here at a ballwas not the place to analyze what it would mean. They were just twoguests dancing and supping like the rest, and were supremely content.
He found out where she was going for Whitsuntide, but said nothing ofhis own intentions.
The blindness and madness of love was upon him and held him in completebondage. The first shock, which her look of the wounded fawn had givenhim, was over. They had suffered, and made good resolutions, and parted,and now they had met again. And he could not, and would not, think wherethey might drift to.
To be near her, to look into her eyes, to be conscious of herpersonality was what he asked at the moment, what he must have. Therest of time was a blank, and meaningless. It is not every man wholoves in this way--fortunately for the rest of the world! Many gothrough life with now and then a different woman merely as an episode,as far as anything but a physical emotion is concerned. Sport, or theirown ambitions, fill up their real interests, and no woman could breaktheir hearts.
But Hector was not of these. And this woman had it in her power to makehis heaven or hell.
They had both passed through moments of exalted sentiment, even a littledramatic in their tragedy and renunciation, but circumstance is strongeralways than any highly strung emotion of good or evil. At the end oftheir good-bye at Madrid their story should have closed, as the storiesin books so often do, with the hero and heroine worked up to somewonderful pitch of self-sacrifice and drama. They so seldom tell of theflatness of the afterwards. The impossibility of retaining a balance onthis high pinnacle of moral valor, where circumstance, which is acommonplace and often material thing, decrees that the lights shall notbe turned out with the ring-down of the curtain.
Unless death finishes what is apparently the last act, there is alwaysthe to-morrow to be reckoned with--out of the story-book. So whileexalted--he by his sudden worship of that pure sweetness of soul inTheodora which he had discovered, she by her innocence and desire to doright--they had been able to tune their minds to an idea of a tendergood-bye, full of sentiment and vows of abstract devotion, and adherenceto duty.
And if he had gone to the ends of the earth that night the exaltation,as a memory, might have continued, and time might have healed theirhurts--time and the starvation of absence and separation. But fate haddecreed they should meet again, and soon; and all the forces whichprecipitate matters should be employed for their undoing.
For all else in life Hector was no weakling. He had always been a strongman, physically and morally.
His views were the views of the world. It seemed no great sin to him tolove another man's wife. All his friends did the same at one period oranother.
It was only when Theodora had awakened him that he had begun even tothink of controlling himself.
It was to please her, not because he was really convinced of the rightand necessity of their course of action, that he had said good-bye andagreed to worship her in the abstract.
He had been highly moved and elevated by her that night in Paris. Andwhen he wrote the letter his honest intention had been to follow itswords.
He did not recognize the fact that without the zeal of blind faith as tothe right, human nature must always yield to inclination.
So they sat there and ate their supper, and forgot to-morrow, and wereradiantly happy.
As they had gone down the stairs Monica Ellerwood had joined LadyBracondale in the gallery above.
"Oh! Look, Aunt Milly!" she had said. "Hector is with the American Itold you about in Paris. Do you see, going down to supper. Oh, isn't shepretty! and what jewels--look!"
And Lady Bracondale had moved forward in a manner quite foreign to herusual dignity to catch sight of them.
"It is the same woman he talked to at the opera last night," she said."She is not an American, but a Mrs. Brown, an Australian millionaire'swife, we were told. She is certainly pretty. Oh--eh--you said Hectorwas devoted to her in Paris?"
"Why, of course! You can ask Jack."
"I do not think we need worry, though, dear, because I am happy to sayHector shows great signs of wishing to be with Morella."
And with this pleasing thought she had turned the conversation.
"I think we must go back now," said Theodora, after she had finished thelast monster strawberry on her plate. "Josiah may be waiting for me."
Oh, she had been so happy! There was that sense vibrating througheverything that he loved her, and they were together--but now it mustend.
So they made thei
r way up the stairs and back to the ballroom.
Mrs. Devlyn had abandoned Josiah, and he stood once more alone andsupremely uncomfortable. A pang of remorse seized Theodora; she wishedshe had not stayed so long; she would not leave him again for a moment.
He had supped, it appeared, been hurried over it because Mrs. Devlynwished to return, and was now feeling cross and tired. He was quiteready to leave when Theodora suggested it, and they said good-night toHector and descended to find their carriage. But in that crowd it wasnot such an easy matter.
There was a long wait in the hall, where they were joined by theassiduous Marquis and Delaval Stirling. And Hector, from a place on thestairs, had all his feelings of jealous rage aroused again in watchingthem while he was detained where he was by his hostess.
Meanwhile, Sir Patrick Fitzgerald had gone about telling every one ofthe beauty of his new-found niece, and had brought his wife to beintroduced to her just after Theodora had left.
Since his scapegrace brother was going to make such an advantageousmarriage, and this niece had proved a lovely woman, and rich withal, hequite admitted the ties of blood were thicker than water.
Lady Ada was not of like opinion; she had enough relations of her own,and resented his having asked the Browns to Beechleigh for Whitsuntide.
"My party was all made up but for one extra man," she said, "whom Ithink I have found; and we did not need these people."