"On what lines, Harriet?"
She bit her lip, and a faint color came into her cheeks. But she had promised herself that she would go through with this, and she would not flinch now.
"I asked her if she really thought she could make you happy, if she married you, loving another man. At first she was quite casually confident. And then—I... I think she had the idea that something in my manner.... She suddenly asked me if I were quite objective about all this, or whether I—were fond of you myself—"
She stopped. And presently he said gently, "You told me just now that this couldn't be very nice for me. I think it's very much worse for you. But will it make it any better, Harriet, if I tell you that the most important thing in the world to me is to know what you answered Dilys at that point?"
She put out her hand to him, and he took it in a firm, warm clasp.
"Very well,"she said, softly but steadily. '*I told her that I loved you—which was true. Then she said that made her feel less awful about letting you down if she did go with Roddy, and she asked me if I thought you—you might grow fond of me, if she were not there. And I don't know now why I answered her that I did, Lin. Whether I just said what I wished it to be, or whether I honestly believed it, or whether I knew instinctively that it was the final thing which would convince her. Anyway, I said—yes, I thought you would."
"And how right you were, my darlmg." Lin laughed softly, and, leaning forward, scooped her up out of the chair. "You knew me even better than I knew myself, it seems. What are you crying about now?"
"Fm not crying,' Harriet said, and clung to him.
He smoothed her hair, and kissed her cheeks and her mouth, and said, "How did you get yourself engaged to Brent, then, my absurd goose?
"Oh, that? That's the rest of the explanation. There's quite a lot more."
"Is there? Well, go on with it." But, this time he sat down in the chair and drew her onto his knee, careless of what the eflRcient Miss Carter might think if she came in to announce anyx)ther client.
So it was in the indescribably comforting shelter of Lin's arms that she told him the rest of the story. How Dilys had acted more or less on her advice and had gone off with Roddy, leaving that unfortunate letter, explaining what had prompted her to go.
"Which letter is the one that Brent so dramatically destroyed in front of us, I take it?"
"Yes."
"Mountebank,"commented Lin, but rather indulgently.
"Oh, Lin! I think he did it on a generous impulse.'
"Do you? Much more likely that he realized it had outlived its usefulness."
"Oh,/za/"
He laughed.
"Don't begin defending Brent's motives too passionately. My jealousy of him is sufficiently recent for me to find that most unacceptable." " ^^;
She laughed, and kissed him rather shyly.
"You have no reason to be jealous of anyone where I am concerned,*' she told him gravely, and he held her very tightly for a moment.
"All right. Now give me the details of Brent's blackmail. For I suppose that's what it amounted to? He held that letter over you and made you do most things he wanted. Is that right?"
"To—to a certain extent, yes."
"But, my ridiculous darling, why didn't you tell him to show me the letter and be damned? Didn't you know how I feh about you?"
"Not at that time. And not for an absolute certainty at any time. Besides, you can't imagine how that letter was worded! Dilys didn't mean it spitefully or anything like that, but she'd made it sound as though she had acted almost entirely on my advice. Almost as though I had asked her to clear off and leave the running clear for me."
"And had you?" inquired Lin amusedly.
"Lin!"
"All right, dearest. I was just hoping for that last sop to my vanity," he told her teasinglv. "Your motives were of the purest, but Brent guaranteed^ that, with the aid of the letter, he could make you look a designing minx. Is that it?"
"Um-hm."
"And he used that to force vou into an engagement with him. Why? Is he keen on you?
"Oh, wo.'"
"Ridiculous fellow. I always thought poorly of his judgment. Now I know it's rotten. But what were his motives, then? Not so pure as yours, I take it?"
"He foresaw the possibility of being involved in this crisis which has, in fact, come upon him. And he thought— quite rightly, as it turned out—that if you believed my happiness to be involved, you would probably help him. I was so frightened about the letter, Lin, that I weakly agreed to become engaged to him on the understanding that if he needed your good offices I would ask for them. But I made it absolutely clear that I would not, in any circumstances, ask you for money to help him. I thought it... it wouldn 't do you any harm to be persuaded, even deceived, into saying a good word for him. But I never, never had the slightest
intention that you should be bamboozled out of a large sum of money on that false assumption.'*
** Ye-es. I see the delicate distinction,*' he admitted.
"Lin, you're not taking any of this a bit seriously! I—somehow, I never imagined that this would be your reaction," she exclaimed, half reproachfully.
"But then, my dearest, perhaps you had never before studied the reactions of a man who is crazy with joy," he said.
Harriet laughed. Then she drew a deep, deep sigh of most exquisite relief
"I don't really understand, even now, why it's all worked out so simply," she exclaimed.
"Perfection is apt to appear in very simple terms," he assured her with happy sententiousness. "When will you marry me, dear?"
"Oh—" she laughed again, but more with happiness than amusement. "I don't know—whenever you say.
He kissed her.
"Then do you mind my saying that, if you are contemplating marrying me quite soon, it is high time you took off the other fellow's ring?"
"Good heavens!" She looked down at Brent's ring in astonishment. "I had forgotten! Oh, I must give it back to him."
"Yes. He'll probably be glad to realize something on that," Lin agreed callously.
"Oh, no." She looked rather solemn. "He won't do that. It's his mother's ring."
Lin seemed unimpressed.
"Dear Harriet! Now you are no longer engaged to Brent, I can give my frank opinion—which is that he would sell the fittings off his grandmother's coffin, if they were detachable and of any value."
"No—don't, Lin! He values this ring. He has one or two odd scruples. I don't know why I feel so anxious to respect them, but-"
"Probably because they are so few," Lin assured her cheerfully. "Still, never mind. We will allow him his few good impulses."
She nodded.
"There was the ring," she said slowly, "and the fact that he destroyed the letter.*'
Lin refused to take that very seriously.
"I tell you—he thought it no longer had any use.*'
"No.'^She shook her head. "That isn't true. I'm sure that Brent, being what he is, still believed he could bluff and lie his way out. He deliberately gave me my chance, after all—"
"Oh, Harriet dear!"
"Do you realize that the last hour, which has brought such complete happiness to us, has brought ruin to Brent?" she said somberly.
"It was commg to him, anyway," Lin replied—but regretfully.
"No. Your offer of the money was going to save him."
Lin looked at her and frowned.
"What are you getting at, Harriet? You're not going to suggest—"
"Yes, I am," she exclaimed, with sudden determination. "As Brent's fiancee, I wouldn't have asked you for a penny on his behalf—I wouldn't have let you pay it. But, as your fiancee, I don't mind asking. Will you save him after all, Lin?"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Harriet could not have explained the impulse which made her intercede for Brent, who had caused her so much misery and fear.
Perhaps it was that in her own overwhelming happiness and relief, she felt she loved everyone and co
uld not bear that any distress should go unrelieved. Perhaps she was moved by some sort of sentimental gratitude to him for stopping short of final villainy—though, if that were so, she had to admit the ethics of the case were becoming extremly mixed. Or perhaps she had some obscure feeling that, since Brent had not had much of a chance in the early days, it was hard that she should have dashed this supreme "chance" from him.
Lin appeared to attribute her action to something else entirely. He smiled—though grimly—and inquired:
"Is this your first test of your power over me?"
"Oh, no, Lin! Only-"
"Only what?" he demanded, with teasing persistence. "Come on—confess your motives. I have a suspicion that they're shockingly sentimental and quite illogical."
She was silent, considering that. Then she said slowly, "I suppose a lot of generous impulses—which you can't justify, but which you know are right—are both sentimental and illogical. I know that, in this case, I'm suggesting we should be generous with your money. But—you were willing to do it for my happiness before, Lin."
"Good heavens! Don't suggest that anything so serious as your happiness is concerned now!" he protested amusedly. "You're simply asking me to extricate—in a most
expensive manner—this perfect scamp who means nothing much to either of us.' *
She looked at him thoughtfully.
"And yet I could imagine that my happiness in this wonderful hour would never be remembered as cloudless if I also had to remember his part in it. The fact that the explanations which gave us our lovely understanding, also spoiled his chance of being saved from ruin."
** My dear, you *re simply—'*
"Lin, please let him nave the money, after all. Give me that as my wedding present. '*
He didn't laugh that time. He drew her against him and looked down at her.
*'Do you mean that?'*
"Oh, yes."
"Even though I tell you that, if I agree, I shall stick to the exact terms? It would be your only wedding present from me."
"Oh, yes." She smiled happily. "Why should I need a wedding present if I have you? Td like it better that way. Then I shouldn't feel I was being generous entirely at your expense."
He kissed her softly.
"You are the sweetest thing," he said gently. "Brent shall have his cheque. And perhaps I shall allow myself the indulgence of giving you a very small, inexpensive wedding present in addition. '
"It isn't necessary," she told him contentedly, and returned his kiss.
"But there is one condition I impose—"
"Oh?"
"That you yourself give Brent the cheque, and tell him it is my wedding present to you."
"Oh, Lin, no!"
"On that condition only."
"But I shall feel such-such a fool."
"You will have no need to," he told her dryly.
"Are you perfectly serious?"
"Perfectly serious."
"Very well."
"Now take off that ring, and well go out and buy another
one, and have a celebration lunch, and generally behave like an engaged couple."
'*I was ^oing to catch the twelve o'clock train,** she objected mildly.
"Well, you are not going to catch it now. You are having lunch with me, and then I am taking the rest of today off-thank God it*s Friday—and, after that, I am driving you home to Fourways, where we will break the news to my mama, and have a wonderful weekend together.**
She had no objection to raise in this program of perfection. And, wafted on their way by the aamirably expressed congratulations of the perfect Miss Carter, they proceeded to put it into practice.
Harriet made one slight modification. She interrupted lunch to have a long telephone conversation with Maxine, in which she tried to make her morning's behavior sound reasonable.
"Do you mean to say that you've got rid of one fiance and acquired another, instead of catching the twelve o*clock train?" Maxine demanded, astonished.
*'It does sound a bit like that, I know.*'
"It not only sounds. It is, darling. And I used to think you reserved and retiring! It only shows how little we know of our nearest and dearest. But no one could be more delighted than I am. Particularly, as I knew, just from hearing you on the telephone to each of them, that you'd somehow got them in their wrong roles. You can give my future brother-in-law my best congratulations, and tell him my money was on him from the moment I heard you say hello to him."
Laughing, Harriet accepted her further affectionate good wishes and went back to pass them on to Lin.
The drive home through the long, long afternoon and evening was perfect. They found there was still so much to remember and explain, and the time was all too short.
Their arrival at Fourways was, of course, the most joyful surprise to Mrs. Mayhew. And she, like Maxine, accepted what she considered a rather puzzling changeover with very little question simply because the new arrangement so completely delighted her.
Only one explanation remained to be made—and that was to Brent. And, since she knew that he must be suffering as much anxiety as his optimistic nature permitted, Harriet
suddenly announced her intention of going over to see him right away.
"This evening, dear?'* Mrs. Mayhew found it impossible to accept this with no question. ''Brent?**
'*Yes. It'll be light for another hour. And—I shan't be long. There is something I have to explain to him."
To Mrs. Mayhew's further surprise, her son appeared to agree with this view. He followed Harriet out into the hall, and said, '*Wait a moment. I'll give you the cheque to take with you."
"Oh, Lin, will you? That makes it so nice and final."
Lin smiled a little grimly. Perhaps he was not unwilling to impart a nice finality to their relationship with Brent. But he went into his study, and sitting down at his desk, wrote the cheque without wincing.
Then he put it in an envelope and sealed it. So that Harriet never knew what amount Lin was, twice over, willing to pay to secure her happiness.
Smiling, she accepted the envelope and kissed him. Then, slipping on a soft cream coat, she went out of the house and across the fields to Brent's bungalow.
From some little distance away, she saw that he was still out in the garden lounging in a cane chair under the trees. So that, when she came right up to him, the scene might almost have been a continuation of the one there two days before.
He jumped up when he saw her. But, though he smiled and said, "This is a surprise and honor," she thought he looked rather harrassed and driven, and not quite so sure of himself as usual.
"Sit down, won't you?" He pushed forward a chair for her.
She sat down, crossing her hands lightly in her lap, so that her left hand was uppermost.
The new ring on her finger caught his attention at once, and he grinned and said, "Congratulations. He wasn't long coming to the point, was he?"
"No. When everything had been explained, we both knew exactly what we wanted," she agreed composedly.
"I'm glad, Harriet. You won't believe it, of course, after all that happened first. But now I've been fairly beaten at
my own game I'm rather pleased that you brought off your little effort."
She thought there were more delicate ways of putting it, but sensed that he really wished her well. And so she said, *'Thank you, Brent.** And then, "I have brought you back your mother's ring." She took it out of her handbag and held it out to him.
He took it with a slight smile and held it in the palm of his hand for a moment.
"Pity," he commented. "You're probably much the nicest girl who will ever wear it."
"Oh, I don't know—" She took the envelope out of her still open bag. "I have something else for you, too, Brent. Here It is."
He looked slightly puzzled. But he took the envelope from her and slid his thumb under the flap.
She watched him, with quite breathless interest. Then she saw him whiten suddenly, as he took
out the cheque and unfolded it.
He sat staring at it for a long time. Then he raised his eyes and looked at her rather haggardly.
"You made him do it, of course?" he said, a little hoarsely.
"It's his wedding present to me," Harriet told him, in obedience to Lin's directions. And, after all, she didn 't feel a fool.
"Oh, Harriet—" he leaned his forehead on his hand for a moment, so that she couldn't see his face "—why did you do it?"
"It's so easy to do nice things when you're very happy," Harriet said simply. "Does that straighten things out for you. Brent?"
He nodded.
She wondered what else he would say. Whether he would spoil this surprisingly moving moment by over eager thanks or, worse still, ghb protestations for the future.
But he did neither. The plausible, loquacious, charming Brent had nothing to say for once in his life.
It was a long time before he even said "Thank you," and when he did, it was in a rather uncertain, husky tone.
She supposed that, on the way there, she had some idea of giving him, a little grimly, friendly advice about not getting
into such a hole again—the sort of thing, perhaps, that one was entitled to say after having averted disaster from the culprit. But now there was nothing she wanted to say. She dicm't wish to attach any homilies—any "strings*'—to the munificent gift of Lin's, which had been given because he loved her and because she could not hate Brent.
*'I think ril 30 now,"she said gently, getting up.
*'ril walk with you as far as the stile," he said, and got up, too.
Strangely, they walked in silence, across the fields, until they came to the stile where he was to leave her.
Then he took the ring out of his pocket, where he had put it, and said: *' I 'd like you to have my mother's ring, after all, please."
"Oh, Brent-no."
"Yes, please. I know you can't wear it often—perhaps not at all. Lin mightn't want it. But I would like you to have it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes—quite sure." He took her hand and gently closed it on the ring.
"Good night, Harriet. And thank you."
They smiled at each other, and turned away to go their separate ways.
She ran the last few yards to Fourways. And, as she ran, she thought, / didn't tell him that I will wear it sometimes. But I will. Only not just now. Now, and until Fm married, it shall he only Lin's ring.
Harlequin Omnibus: Take Me with You, Choose What You Will, Meant for Each Other Page 41