"I was thinking of the way your face changed, when you recognized his voice. Who was he, Harriet? Or don't you want to say?"
"I don't in the least mind telling you." Harriet was determinedly frank. "It was Lindsay Mayhew. He wanted to see me before I went back home—to Fourways, I mean. I expect he has some message for his mother."
But she knew he could have no message for his mother. And, all the while she was laughingly putting off Maxine *s odd suspicion she was really wondering, with a sort of fearful curiosity, what it was that he wanted to say to her.
Surely, surely Brent had not said anything spiteful—or incautious? He had sounded so joyous and on top of the world that she was convinced nothing could have gone wrong. At least, she was almost convinced that nothing could have gone wrong.
She tried to recall the exact tone of Lin *s voice. Had he sounded cold or suspicious or critical? No, really, she couldn't think that he nad. If anything, he had sounded just polite and slightly apologetic for troubling her.
She began to wonder how he had known where to find her. Had Brent told him? Had they discussed her in some
f)ersonal way? What had they said to each other during that ong afternoon session together? In spite of herself, she began to feel nervous again. And she had no idea that this was reflected in her abstracted manner.
Maxine glanced at her curiously once or twice. But, with all her lighthearted and light-headed chatter, she did also know when to keep silent. And she decided that this was one of the occasions when sisterly curiosity would be singularly unwelcome.
After a while, Harriet managed to throw off her nervous anxieties. Or at least to push them away to a distance. And the rest of the evening was spent in the sort of pleasant idling that can have delicious significance only to members of the same family or very close friends.
But, when even Maxine had agreed that it was bed time, and the camp bed had been made up and the two girls had finally retired for the night, Harriet lay wide awake, listening to Maxine's easy and regular breathing, and wondering over and over again—Why, why did Lin want to see her once more?
It was a long time before she slept. And, even then, her vague anxieties seemed to follow her into her dreams.
The next morning, Maxine was loud in her expressions of regret that the visit was so soon over.
"You don't think you'll have time to dash back here, between this interview with Mr. Mayhew, and your catching your train?" she suggested hopefully.
"No, dear. Unless it's something quite unimportant, he's bound to keep me a little while. And my train goes at twelve."
"Well, if it is something unimportant—still, I suppose he wouldn't have bothered you to go along to his office if it hadn't been fairly important. He'd have settled the matter by phone."
"Yes," Harriet said. And wished her spirits wouldn't
sink so ridiculously low just because Maxine carelessly confirmed her own reflection.
They bade each other an affectionate goodbye, Maxine remarking that now the precedent had been established, the visit could be repeated as often as Mrs. Mayhew could spare her. And Harriet, outwardly extremely calm, took her way to Lin's office once more.
Unlike the previous day, the morning was dull and overcast, with a general air of gloom and menace. And, as Harriet entered the building, she nervously contrasted her present anxiety with the joyful relief that had possessed her when she left it not twenty-four hours ago.
This time she had to wait a few minutes until he was free. And these few minutes dragged themselves out more painfully than any others. However, presently even that had been endured lon§ enough, and Lin himself came out of his oflfice to usher her m.
He smiled and apologized for having kept her, with a friendly air that did something to reassure her.
"And I must also apologize for bringing you along here at all," he added, as he closed the door behind them. "I know your time is short. *'
"It's quite all right," Harriet assured him. "How did you know where to find me? "
"You told me that you were staying with your sister, Maxine. I took a chance on finding you in."
Then he had worked the thing out for himself She took some courage from that, and smiled at him as she sat down in the chair mdicated.
She thought he would immediately plunge into the explanation of why he had brought her there. But, though he sat down facing her, he did not begin to speak at once. And, after a moment, it was she who said: "Thank you very, very much for what you are doing for Brent."
He smiled, just a trifle grimly, and said, with candor, "I am doing it a great deal more for you than for Brent."
"Thank you," she murmured, and felt uncomfortably that she was a fraud.
He seemed a good deal occupied with one or two things on his desk. Then he looked up suddenly and asked: "Has Brent given you exact details of the arrangement?"
"No. Oh, no. He just telephoned and told me—"
*'Do you mean to say you haven't seen him since he came here?'*
He was patently astonished.
"No. You see, I wanted to spend the evening with my sister. I hadn't seen her since I went to Fourways," she explained, suddenly aware that some very pressing reason was needed to explain why she and her adored fiance had not met to talk over the happy solution of all their difficulties.
"I see.*' But he hardly seemed to do so. And after a moment, he added,''That makes it a bit awkward.''
"Does it?"
*'Yes. You see—" he paused, rubbed his chin meditatively, and then went on, with a curious air of embarrassment "—I was not able to do exactly what Brent wanted, Harriet, because—"
"But he told me you did!" she cried, in dismay and astojiishment. "He said ... he said everything went perfectly."
"Did he?" Lin's voice sounded a trifle dry. "Well, I expect what he meant was that he was very well satisfied with the alternative I suggested."
"0-oh."
It sounded all right, of course, but, for some reason or other, she felt rather dubious about the whole thing. She remembered Lin's saying to her, the previous afternoon, "Could you be a Uttle more explicit? and she felt like repeating his own words to him.
"You mean that you didn't feel able to put in a good word for him with your friend?" she said, rather timidly.
"My dear Harriet, I think you ought to know that it was very much more than asking me to put in a good word for him. What he proposed would have meant either that I deceived my friena—and client—into thinking that something was perfectly sound, when it was not, or else that I asked him to condone something definitely shady, as a personal favor to me. I really couldn't think of doing either, you know."
"N-no. I do see that. But—" she stared at him in puzzled dismay, because there had been no doubting Brent's complete satisfaction "—but what did you do then?"
"I took the only possible way out. That of crudely buying
Brent out of his troubles, by supplying him with the money he had represented himself—quite incorrectly—as having. That meant—"
"No!"
The violence of her dismay startled them both, and he stared at her while, white and with blazing eyes, she struggled to find other words.
"No, no, no!" she repeated. "I won't have you do that! I told him I wouldn 't. I will not be used as a stooge for getting money out of you so that Brent can squander it. You're not to give him anything, Lin. You're not to. Oh, this is too much! I said I wouldn't have it. Oh, why did I ever get involved in this?" She Uterally wrung her hands. "It serves me right. I'm very rightly punished." And she buried her face in her hands and sobbed excitedly.
"Harriet, please!'' He was astounded and distressed. "My dear girl, there isn't the slightest need to take it like this-"
"There is! I said that was the one thing I wouldn't do for him—have you tricked into giving him money—"
"I wasn't tricked, Harriet. The suggestion was my own."
"Oh, yes, but you were tricked, all the same," she sobbed bro
kenly. "You did it because of me—not through any friendship for Brent."
"Well—that I grant you." He smiled a little grimly, but, as her face was hidden, she didn't see that. "I'm afraid you mustn't expect me to show friendly concern for Brent, in addition to everything else. But I'm very willing to do it for you, Harriet."
"Oh, no! Oh, no!" The suggestion seemed to distress her more than anything else. "You mustn't do it, I don't want you to do it."
"But, dear child, I've already told Brent I will."
"You must tell him you won't, after all. How much was it?"
"Oh, Harriet, really I think-"
She looked up at last.
"How much was it?"
He made a slight face.
"I'm afraid I'm not prepared to tell you that. But it isn't more than I can afford.''
"That isn*t the point. I won't have you do it, even if it's a small sum."
He was silent, and she knew it was not a small sum.
"Oh, Lin!"
She looked at him despairingly. And, as though he could not help it, he came and sat on the arm of her chair and put his arm around her.
"Look here, Harriet, you are taking this in quite the wrong way," he said gently. "I think I know why you're so upset. You didn't mind my giving any help I could, when I was able to exercise that help myself and see that it wasn't put to other—perhaps improper—uses. Now that you know this help has got to take the form of money, you're afraid, in spite of all your loyalty to Brent, that it may not be used for tne purpose for which it is given. Isn 't that it? "
Sne snook her head.
"I just don't want you to give him money because of me," she repeated wretchedly.
He gave a half-vexed little laugh.
"My dear, it is the only way in which I can help him, and, as I tell you, I am perfectly willing to do it. No, wait a moment—" as she made another movement of violent protest "—at the same time, I am too old a hand to allow Brent to take sole charge of a large—of any sum of money. And my reason for bringing you here today was that I wished you to know what was happening and to exercise a—what shall I say—a sort of friendly supervision over the disposal of it."
'Tor we to?"
"Yes."
She shook her head again as though there were nothing of all this with which she could possibly agree.
"But, Harriet, that was my whole intention, in having you here before Brent arrives to settle the final details."
"Brent?" She looked up again with a sort of desperate eagerness."Is Brent coming here this morning?"
"Why, yes. We couldn't make more than the preliminary arrangements yesterday, you know."
" When is he coming?"
Lin glanced at his desk clock.
"Any time now, I suppose. In fact, he may already be here, waiting."
"Will you please have your secretary in and see if he is here?"
Lin glanced at her doubtfully.
"It's all right. I'll go and look out of the window." And, drying her eyes perfunctorily, she got up and went over to the window, where she stood with her back to the room, powdering her face, while Lin summoned his efficient secretary and asked if Mr. Penrose had yet come.
"Yes, Mr. Mayhew. He's in the outer office now."
"Shall we have him in right away?" Lin inquired of Harriet's back.
"We might as well." She managed to reply quite casually, though she still remained turned away, as though intent on her makeup.
"Please show Mr. Penrose in, then. Miss Carter."
Miss Carter withdrew, to return a few moments later, accompanied by an amiably smiling Brent.
He looked slightly taken aback when he saw Harriet. But, almost before Miss Carter had departed once more, he was greeting her with the "Hello, dading," of a satisfactorily devotedfianc^.
Harriet turned around to face him and the room. It was obvious that she had been crying, but she had herself well in hand. Now that the moment of supreme crisis had arrived and she had decided to have a complete showdown, she was completely calm.
"Brent, I made it quite clear to you that I would not have Lin asked for money."
"My dear—" it was Lin who interposed, a little annoy-edly " —I have already told you that / made the offer.''
"It's the same thing. Brent knows what I mean."
"I'm afraid I don't, sweetheart." Brent smiled at her, but just a little dangerously. "Lin couldn't see his way to help me in the manner I suggested, but most generously offered to do it with money instead. Are you suggesting that I should have refused?''
^^Of course you should have refused! He—he offered you the money because he thinks I love you and am engaged to you and that my happiness depends on your being kept out of trjouble. I know I was wrong—terribly, terribly wrong—to let him think that, even to the extent of helping you verbally. But I will not have Jiim done out of a large sum of
money on that false assumption. I won't, I won't! Now tell him what you like."
And, white and stonily resolute, she turned away from the two men, leaving them to stare at each other.
It was Lin, strangely enough, who recovered his voice first. *'Will someone tell me what this is all about?" he said, with rather elaborate calm.
*'Well—" began Brent, and then stopped.
"Tell him," Harriet said bitterly. "Tell him that you have a letter you want him to read. I don't doubt you have it with you. You can show it to him, I don't care anymore. I don't care how—how low and contemptible he thinks I am. He can't think me lower than I think myself. Show him the letter. And tell him that there's no engagement."
There was the most extraordinary silence. Then Lin said, rather hoarsely, "Is that true—that there is no engagement?"
"Yes," Brent said, with a shrug. "And there is no letter, either."
"You needn't keep it, and suppose that you can hold it over me later," Harriet told him quickly. "Show him the letter/70W."
"There is no letter," Brent repeated coolly. And, taking Dilys's letter from his billfold, he slowly tore it into small pieces and threw it into Lin's wastepaper basket.
It was a shockingly melodramatic gesture. But Brent had probably never been more in earnest.
The other two watched him in complete silence, Harriet's eyes growing wide and dark as she did so. Then, at last, she asked, almost in a whisper, "Why did you do that?"
"I don't know," Brent said, and that was undoubtedly the literal truth. "Only I've decided I probably shouldn't ever have a use for it, after all. I don't think, either, that we can usefully prolong this interview. If you catch the twelve o'clock train, Harriet. I'll see you on it. If not—I'll be seeing you sometime, I expect."
And, picking up his hat and gloves, which he had flung down on the desk when he came in, he smiled rather brazenly at both of them and went out of the room.
There was complete silence for a few minutes, after the door had closed behind him. Then Lin said, "It was a
splendid exit—but either I am exceptionally stupid, or there is still a great deal to explain."
She made a rather helpless little gesture.
*' Can't you explain to me, Harriet?''
*' Yes—oh, yes. I was just wondering where to begin.''
*'Begin at the begirtning," he suggested.
She laughed sadly.
"The beginning? The beginning was that I lied to you about Dilys and Roddy. I did know that she was keen on him."
He looked extremely taken aback—perhaps that the story should date right back to the days of his engagement to Dilys. But he only said, "Sit down, Harriet. And take your time."
So she sat down slowly in her chair once more, and he leaned against the side of the desk and regarded her, while she sought in her mind for phrases that would make the story clear. She no longer had any desire to alter it or to excuse her own part in it. All she wanted was that he should know the real truth at last.
"I knew—about Roddy and Dilys quite soon after I came to Fourways," she began slowly.
"Partly because of one or two things that happened, and partly because of something my sister had written in a letter—she had seen them together. Anyway, when Roddy came home and—and recognized me, I told him that I knew about him and Dilys. And, though it wasn't my business, I asked him why they didn't pluck up courage and tell you the truth—that Dilys had changed her mind. He said it wasn't as simple as that. That Dilys and, more particularly, Brent needed money—or, at any rate, moneyed prospects—and she couldn't make up her mind to take a comparatively poor man, whom she loved, instead of a rich man, who would solve all their financial worries. In any case, she ... she did like you very much, of course, and thought, from time to time, that she could somehow make the best of the existing arrangement. I—I'm sorry. This can't be very nice for you—but I must tell you the exact truth now."
"It's all right," he said, a little dryly. "Go on."
"Well, I agreed to Roddy's request that I wouldn't stir up a lot of awkward inquiries, by insisting on making it clear
that I had been the girl who brought him home that Saturday evening when we first met—"
"Just a moment. I thought you told me some time ago that you had already come to that decision, on your own. '*
"Yes. But when I began to see that I was getting involved in a real web of deception, I wanted to make my position clear, so far as that detail went. However, Roddy persuaded me that there was really no need for me to say anything— which, of course, was true."
"And the next thing you knew was that they had run off together?"
"No—oh, no." Harriet clasped her hands together painfully tightly. "Something else happened before that. I—I drove into Barndale with Dilys one afternoon, and the subject came up. To be quite honest," she admitted doggedly, "I brought up the subject—Fm not quite sure why. I asked her if she were unhappy about things, or something like that. And then we had a long talk about the situation, and she told me a good deal about the early years of herself and Brbnt—a sort of explanation of why they were rather— rather unstable and drifting people. I... I felt angry because she only seemed concerned with Roddy's happiness or Brent's, and didn't seem to understand that yours was involved, too. I'm afraid I—I gave her a certain amount of gratuitous advice—"
Harlequin Omnibus: Take Me with You, Choose What You Will, Meant for Each Other Page 40