'^Thereiswhat?"
"A solution we neither of us ever thought of "
*'I don't believe it."
"Yes, there is. I could go to Emma and Darry. Mrs. Dorley said I was to go down there weekends if I wanted to. And I know she would be willing for me to go there from the hospital and spend the time while I was convalescing. Then-"
**Sorry, Thea. That way out is closed, too." He sounded regretful but quite firm about that. *'I went down to see Emma this morning before I came here—after I knew Geraldine wouldn 't take you back, you know.''
"Yes?"
"And she is having to close the house for the time being, after all. Her sister is ill, and Emma has to go and nurse her."
"And Darry?"Thea asked anxiously. t "Eh? Oh, Darry will go with her." "Oh, he'll hate that!'^
"Like other people, Darry will have to learn to do a few things he doesn 't lilce," Lindsay said dryly.
"Not if he knows it," murmured Thea absently. "Will the house be auite shut up then?"
"I'm afraid so, Thea. i believe Emma will look in once a week—she will be near enough for that. But she couldn't look after someone else besides her sister. Much less go backward and forward between homes."
"No, of course not. I see that."
"So there is no escape for you." His dark eyes smiled at her teasingly, but with a shade of anxiety, she thought, and immediately she wondered if she were seeming ungrateful and eager to escape from the situation he had so generously created.
"I don't really want to escape," she said with naive candor. "I only didn't want to involve you in this if there were any other way out."
He laughed and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
"I am involved. We'll leave it at that. And now you may consider yourself engaged. '*
Before Thea could say anything to that, her nurse came in with tea, and Lindsay said quite coolly, *'Ah, here's the first person to congratulate us. Nurse, your patient is going to be married."
"Married!" The nurse set down the tray and beamed with romantic approval. "To you, Mr. Varlon?"
"Certainly to me. You didn't think I'd let her marry anyone else, did you?"
How well he does it! thought Thea.
"Well now, isn't that splendid. That's something to cheer her up, and no mistake. The best of luck, dear." Thea's nurse smiled at her with all the kindly interest of which she was capable—which was a great deal. "Now, all you've got to do is get well in good time for a summer weddmg. You'll make the prettiest bride possible."
"Yes. Won't she?" Lmdsay said thoughtfully. And Thea found herself laughing and blushing and behaving just like a bride, funnily enough, as she put it to herself
Over tea he was extraordinarily jovial, but whether or not it was to reassure her and make her feel that everything was most satisfactorily settled, Thea could not decide.
For herself, she was unable to take the situation quite in her stride, and although she smiled and even laughed once or twice, at the back of her mind was the terrific, inescapable thought: / have said Vll marry Lindsay, However little it means in actual fact, I have said I'll marry him.
And as though to emphasize her thoughts, he said to her then, "What kmd of ring would you like, Thea? Since it's bound to be a very short engagement, I think you'd better have your ring as soon as possible."
"Oh dear! do you—do you have to give me all the expensive trimmings?"Thea said.
I think so." He laughed at her tone. "And I would like to give you a ring, in any case."
"I'm costing you the most awful lot of money one way and another, I m afraid."
"I can bear it," he told her. "Won't you tell me what ring you would like?"
"I never really thought about it, Lin. Would you get me something you think would suit me and—and don't make it
very valuable, because you don't really have to, and it isn't like a real engagement. *
'*You mean you leave the choice to me?"
*'Yes," Thea said, and remembered suddenly something else that Stephen had said about Lindsay: *'I don't expect he's ever asked the price of wedding rings."
Well, he'll have to, now, thought Thea, and wondered if he were really making his admirable best of a situation that secretly appalled him."
Not that it was any good worrying now. The decision had been made. But she wondered what Stephen and Mrs. Dorley would think when they both heard. And all at once she very much wanted them both, and thought how dear and sane and ordinary they seemed in contrast to the situation into which she seemed to have wandered.
Perhaps Lindsay thought she had had enough excitement for one clay and sensed that she was growing tired.
''I'll have to go now, Thea child. I've a dinner engagement and I've got to look in at the theater tonieht."
He stood up and she thought, How tall ana handsome he is. No wonder so many women have run after him. And—and, in a way, I've^ot him. It's rather frightening.
*'You won t worry anymore, will you? he said, and she shook her head. "I'll come in tomorrow and bring you your ring."
"Oh, Lin, I forgot—I won't be able to wear it yet."
He frowned. "No, of course not. I hadn't thought of that. Never mind, you can wear it on your right hand for the time being."
She thought it was very nice of him to be so determined to have the whole arrangement signed and sealed, and she smiled and said, "Very well. That will be nice."
He stood looking down at her, and his smile took on that quizzical character.
"Well, do I kiss my fiancee? Do you want us to play our parts thoroughly, or only to bother about it when we have an audience?"
"I like being kissed," Thea stated simply. And with a laugh he bent down and kissed her on her lips.
Lone after he had gone, she lay there thinking about that kiss. She supposed Lin was what one called an accomplished lover. He could turn on all this sort of thing, as and
when required. He certainly did it very well. It gave a comforting air of reality to this strange arrangement that she had taken on, only she mustn't take it too seriously because it was only a piece of playacting.
She had never imagined herself sharing any sort of life with a worldly, although charming, enigma like Lin. He was years older than she was, for one thing, and two or three times her age in experience. She had always supposed that anyone she married would be young and frank and understandable. Someone rather like herself. Someone rather like Stephen.
And at the thought of Stephen she experienced a rather dreadful little twinge, because of the irrevocable character of what she was doing. Lin had said it was a temporary arrangement, that she was free to do what she liked later, and so on. But no words or phrases hid the fact that she was taking a step that could never really be retraced.
One could see that when one thought of Stephen. Not that there had ever been any lovemaking between her and Stephen. He had never even kissed her except when he said goodbye to her. But they had been perfect companions, utterly at ease with each other, hardly needing to explain or dissect the things that most people found so difficult to straighten out between themselves.
Nothing had been said, it was true. But then the friend^ ship had been interrupted so sharply—so prematurely—by his going to America. There had always been the feeling that they would pick up the ends with perfect ease when he returned, and that afterward the friendship might develop into—anything.
Now he would come back to find her a married woman. Panic overwhelmed Thea at this reflection. But she fought her way through the cold wave, and determinedly regained calm again.
rm a very lucky girl, Thea told herself. '
And if that were not enough, her nurse came in and told her exactly the same thing.
Thea smiled and said—yes, she knew she was lucky, anc yes, she was very happy.
"You seem such a young little thing to be marrying someone so handsome and so famous," her nurse told her.
"You mean you wonder what he sees in me?" Thea
couldn't resist, because her sense of mischief came uppermost at that.
"Oh, no. I can imagine a lot of men falling for you,'* her nurse conceded generously. "You're so pretty, for one thing. Only you'd expect someone like Lindsay Varlon to go in for the frightfully sophisticated, back-chattmg type."
"I do give him some back chat sometimes,' Thea said. And her nurse laughed a good deal and said "No doubt that was what did it."
"I suppose you're not going to have a long engagement?" Her nurse's interested question broke m on her thoughts again.
"Oh, no. Very short. I expect I shall be married almost from here."
"Married from here? From the hospital? Why, how very nice and romantic. Everyone will be thrilled."
Thea thought that was very nice of everyone, and said so.
"You see, I haven't got a home myself," she explained carefully. "I was—staying with my cousin at the time of the accident, and—"
"But won't you want to be married from Miss Marven's place?"
"No," Thea said. "No, I don't think that could be very conveniently arranged." And she secretly shuddered at the very thought of the complications that would be involved in being married from "Miss Marven's place."
Geraldine wouldn't be pleased about this marriage. In fact, she would be absolutely furious.
She'll try to make trouble, of course, if she can, Thea thought. But it seemed so impossible to do anything now that would not increase Geraldine's enmity, that Thea gave up worrying about it. For one thing, she felt perfectly certain that Lindsay was capable of protecting her from the worst effects of Geraldine's spite. Tnat, at least, was one of the advantages of marrying a worldly and experienced man.
To her surprise, Thea found herself an object of considerable interest among the hospital staff the next morning. Her own nurse had hadtime to spread the story of her fame and a very comprehensive account of the romantic circumstances surrounding her.
Several nurses whom she did not know at all looked in to ask how she was feeling, and to give her good wishes and
inquire whether she really was going to be married from the hospital.
"Well, I don*t know. We haven*t actually settled anything yet/'Thea explained. "But if I stay here until Tm well enough to walk around, I think I probably shall be married from here."
Everyone seemed to think it such a splendid idea, that Thea felt it would be cruel to disappoint them now. And when Lindsay arrived in the late afternoon, she immediately asked him eagerly, "Can I be married from here?**
He laughed a good deal.
"Come, this has a gratifyingly eager sound about it," he said teasingly. "Why? Is tharwhat you want, child?"
"Well, I can't really think of anything else very suitable," Thea explained. "Don't you have to live a certain time in one place or something before you can be married? I would think I'll have lived long enough in the hospital to qualify by the time I leave here. And there—there really isn't anywhere else where I can live for a time between leaving here and getting married, is there?"
"No, Thea. I suppose there isn't," he agreed. "A hospital wedding would be quite good publicity, too."
"Good what?"
"Good publicity."
"Do we have to bother about that?"
"I think that with Geraldine on the warpath, there is no harm in having a certain amount of publicity about our wedding. I confess, with some shame, that I am usually regarded as 'news' in a minor degree. A hospital wedding with a certain amount of journalistic chitchat about it would certainly put the whole thing on a highly respectable level."
"Isee.'^
He smiled, perhaps at her serious expression, and sat down on the side of her bed, which was against the rules but certainly made their conversation more intimate and friendly.
"Don't you want to see what I've brought for you?"
"Oh! Is it my ring?" Suddenly she was more excited than she had ever expected to be.
He seemed amused and a little touched by her pleasure.
"Yes. It's your ring." He took out a jeweler's box and
opened it for her, because she had still not got used to having only one hand she could use.
"Oh, Lin!" She cried out his name in eagerness and joy. "Is it—is it real?'*She^azed, awed, at the softly pink pearl.
He laughed and laughed.
"Did you think I'd give you an artificial pearl, darling?"
"No, but—oh, Lin, I've never seen anything so beautiful. What made you think of it? What made you choose a pink pearl? It's so—so romantic, somehow."
"Is it? Well, it's just the color of this little streak of pink down here," and he lightly drew his finger down her cheek. "Perhaps that's what made me think of it."
Then he took the ring out of its case and slipped it on her finger.
"There-it's a trifle big for you at the moment, but your fingers have grown a little thin, poor child."
"It looks lovely, Lin. I can't believe it's mine." She spread out her hand and looked at it with great satisfaction. "I'm afraid you didn't listen to anything I said about not being extravagant about it. But you can have it back when the—the show is over and—"
"Don't be a little fool," he exclaimed, much more sharply than he had ever spoken to her. "That ring isn't on loan. It's yours. I want you to have it."
"Oh," Thea said very meekly. And then, "Thank you, Lin."
And, perhaps aware that he had spoken too sharply, he put his arm around her and kissed her.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to speak harshly. But you will keep the ring, won't you?''
She kissed him very gently in return, and he gave her a half-amused, half-perplexed glance that she found impossible to understand.
He was not able to stay long, but the ring caused a considerable sensation when she displayed it later, and the many congratulations so well sustained the engaged-girl feeling that Thea began to think she was growing quite used to the idea of being married to Lindsay.
During the next week, flowers and fruit appeared regularly, to the accompaniment of approving comments from her nurse. Lindsay was not able to come and see her more
than two or three times, but the evidence of his thought for her was not lacking.
"He certainly has a nice technique," was her nurse's comment, and Thea laughed more than the remark strictly merited.
Most of the time Thea was in very good spirits. She was feeling better each day, and it was impossible not to rejoice in the complete freedom from financial worry and the feeling of future security. If it sometimes came over her that the price she was paying for all this was likely to involve her in a curious, perhaps even dangerous situation, the vague feeling of panic was only momentary and she always assured herself that there was not much choice before her m any case.
It was perfectly obvious that in the eyes of her nurse and any other member of the staff who paid her flying visits, she was an amazingly lucky person. And it was not likely, thought Thea, that all of them were wrong.
Her stay at the hospital lengthened more than had been expected at first. In herself she was progressing well, but her hand needed a good deal of attention. By the last week in May, however, she was allowed up in her room and even out on the wide veranda, where she could look over the Surrey hills and enjoy the sun.
"Isn't it time you thought about wedding dressesT" her nurse asked her one day. "I expect you're going to be well enough to be a June bride, and you'll wear white, won't you?^'
Thea was nearly betrayed into saying, "I don't know." But she had found by now that it gave a queer impression when she was vague about the details that were supposed to absorb the attention of every bride.
Not that she was superior to the interesting topic of what she was to wear, now that it had been introduced, but she always found it just a little difficult to believe that these things were going to happen to her, and that it was for her to make the decisions.
"Oh, yes, I expect I'll wear white," she agreed. "I wonder how I can arrange about
gettng my dress. I couldn't very well go up to town yet, could I? "
"Certainly not." Her nurse was-€mphatic about that. "And anyway, if you were well enough to go up to town, we;
would have to regard you as well enough to be discharged, you know. And we don't want that."
By which her nurse meant that she and her fellow nurses didn't want to be done out of the romantic wedding from the hospital.
"Til think it over,'*Thea said.
But even the problem of the wedding dress was solved quite easily by Lindsay.
"I'll have a selection sent down for you to choose from," he said. "And—yes, of course you'll wear white, and look very young and virginal and enchanting."
Thea felt just a little bit like one of the figures in some theatrical production of his. But she saw that he couldn't help regarding anything like this from the point of view of the perfection of the scene.
So she agreed to his proposal, and she and her nurse (and, to tell the truth, as many others of the nurses as could snatch a few guilty moments from their duties) spent an entrancing afternoon selecting a wedding dress.
In the end, by almost unanimous agreement, a very youthful, appealing dress of silk organdy was chosen. There was nothing very startling about the design—in fact, it was quite extraordinarily simple. But, as one of the nurses said, You look such a darling in it. And that big cloud of veil that goes with it shows your yellow hair through it in the sweetest way."
It had been agreed between her and Lindsay that there should be nothing in the way of a official honeymoon. For one thing, his work prevented him from being away from London for very long, and for another, they both felt that the respective roles of devoted bride and bridegroom were going to be sufficiently difficult to sustain throughout the wedding, without putting them to the added test of a conventional honeymoon.
Instead, he was taking her for a long weekend to a hotel on the south coast, where he declared there would be enough to amuse her, without the joufney being long enough to tire her.
The second collection of 3 great novels by Mary Burchell Page 53