“All right. I’m not surprised, really. I thought the fellow had something on his mind.”
“Clever, aren’t you?”
“So you say,” replied Ellis chuckling. He added, “I’ll draw some beer. It might help our deliberations.”
“Don’t be too late.”
“Am I likely to be late?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“Oh well, can’t be helped,” said Ellis. “Let’s have breakfast at half-past-nine. I haven’t got to go up to town to-morrow.”
Bel gave him another little kiss and ran upstairs to get ready for bed.
This was marriage, thought Bel. It was absolute bliss. This was her life now—and always would be—cosy and comfortable and safe. Sometimes she thought about her life before she was married to Ellis; she thought of the loneliness and the wretched economies which she had been obliged to practise to make ends meet. She thought of how she had lain awake at night full of apprehension about the future. She thought of how she had risen early and rushed off to the office in the chill morning air; she remembered the crowded bus; people with tired white faces; mornings of pouring rain, when the bus was full of soaking umbrellas; or, worse still, mornings of dense, choking yellow fog.
All that was over now and she was lapped in the luxury of her husband’s love, but all the same it was right to think about it and remember what it had been like because it prevented her from taking her blessings for granted. Bel had so many blessings and Ellis was the greatest of them all. But for Ellis she would still be lonely and miserable and frightened, she would still be one of that sad crowd with drooping shoulders and anxious faces travelling to their daily toil in offices and shops.
Bel had made up her mind that she must never forget it—never, never forget it. She must never forget to say a prayer every night for all the lonely people in the world.
*
3
Breakfast was at nine-thirty, as Ellis had decreed. They had it together in the dining-room with the bright morning sun shining in through the open windows. Nothing was said about Alec’s troubles. He seemed cheerful: he looked rested and refreshed; some of the tired lines had been smoothed out of his face. In answer to his host’s inquiries he said he had slept like a top and dreamed about sweet peas.
“Ha, ha!” exclaimed Ellis. “That was my joke, Alec. You see, when Bel and I were married we decided that we were both too serious. We decided that we must cultivate a sense of humour. We both had a sense of humour but we hadn’t been exercising it properly—we hadn’t much chance—but now that we’re comfortably settled with no more worries we’re getting on with the job. It’s true, isn’t it, Bel.”
“Yes,” said Bel smiling, “we started with one joke a day but we’re improving rapidly.”
Alec laughed—as had been intended. He said, “That’s a grand idea. It’s a pity more people don’t keep their sense of humour in good training. Have you patented the invention, Ellis?”
“No, it’s free,” replied Ellis. “You can use it if you like.”
Bel noticed that, whereas last night they had called each other ‘Brownlee’ and ‘Drummond’, it was now ‘Ellis’ and ‘Alec’. She was aware that this meant a great deal and she was pleased about it for she had wanted them to be friends . . . men were so funny, thought Bel, hiding a little smile.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alec was still firm in his intention to return to London by the morning train so Ellis ran out the car and took him to Ernleigh station. Meanwhile Bel did some necessary chores, chatted to Mrs. Warmer about food and then went out to the garden.
Below the terrace was a wide strip of ground which had been cleared and dug, ready for planting. Bel planned to have a mass of colour here where it could be seen from the drawing-room window. She was standing and looking at it with a seedsman’s catalogue in her hand when the glass door opened and Louise came rushing out like a whirlwind.
“Where is he?” demanded Louise.
Bel turned in surprise. She was even more surprised when she saw that Louise was panting—as if she had run a mile—her face was flushed and her eyes were blazing.
“Where is he?” repeated Louise. “Where’s Alec?”
“Louise, what’s the matter?”
“Can’t you answer a plain question? Where’s Alec? That’s what I want to know.”
“I thought he wrote you a letter——”
“I got a note—a few lines, that’s all—saying he was sorry he couldn’t come to lunch because he was obliged to return home on business.”
“Yes, he had to go this morning.”
“He had to go this morning!” cried Louise furiously. “Why did he have to go this morning? When did he leave here? Where is he now?”
“Ellis took him to the station.”
“You let him go!” cried Louise. “You let him—go away!”
“But Louise, I couldn’t help it. He said——”
“You knew I was expecting him to lunch. It was all arranged. I was coming over to fetch him.”
“Yes, I know, but——”
“But!” cried Louise. “What’s the good of standing there and saying, ‘but’?”
“Louise, listen——”
“I won’t listen. You’ve deceived me! I thought you were my friend! You said you would have him to stay for the week-end—it was all arranged. You knew quite well that I wanted to see him—and you—you let him go away. Oh Bel, how could you! How could you be—so—so cruel!” Suddenly she was in tears. “And I had—such a nice—lunch—for him!” she sobbed. For a few moments Bel had been quite frightened—she had never seen Louise in such a rage—but now she was no longer frightened. She almost smiled, almost but not quite.
“Darling, come and sit down,” said Bel in soothing tones. “You’ve got it all wrong—really you have. I told Alec you were expecting him. I couldn’t do more.” She led Louise into the drawing-room and drew her down on to the sofa. “I couldn’t make him stay, could I?” asked Bel.
“You knew I wanted to see him—very much,” said Louise, mopping her eyes. “You knew I was longing to see him, didn’t you?”
“Not really,” said Bel doubtfully.
“What do you mean?”
It was difficult to explain what she meant. Of course she had known that Louise was expecting Alec to lunch, but she certainly had had no idea that Louise was ‘longing to see him’.
“What do you mean?” repeated Louise.
“Well, as a matter of fact I thought—I thought you were—rather—interested—in Roy.”
“Roy!” exclaimed Louise. “You thought I was ‘interested’ in him. Of course I like Roy; he’s very amusing—we have fun together—but I suppose when you say ‘interested’ you mean more than that.” She hesitated and then added in an incredulous tone, “You thought I was in love with that pirate!”
“Pirate?”
“That’s what he is—a pirate. Charming and entertaining, quite thrilling in a way, but absolutely selfish and unreliable. He’s ruthless,” added Louise. “If he wants something he takes it.”
Bel remembered Leslie Harding saying, ‘He takes what he wants. Other people can go to the devil for all he cares.’ She said, “Yes, I think he is a bit ruthless.”
“Well, never mind about Roy,” said Louise. “I’ve told you I’m not ‘interested’ in him. Tell me about Alec. Why did he rush off like that?”
“Alec said I was to tell you that his business is in ruins and he’s got to set to work and build it up.”
“Bel!” exclaimed Louise in horrified accents. “Bel, how absolutely frightful! What happened? Did he tell you about it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, go on. I suppose he wanted you to tell me——”
“No,” said Bel, shaking her head. “He said it would bore you. He said you would never want to see him again.”
“Never want to see him again?”
“That’s what he said.”
“Alec must
be mad! What sort of a person does he think I am? Does he think I’d give him up and never want to see him again because he’s lost all his money?”
“Yes, that’s what he thinks.”
“And you think so too, I suppose,” said Louise bitterly. “You’ve got the same foul opinion of me.”
“Nobody has got a foul opinion of you,” declared Bel, putting her arm round her friend’s waist and giving her an affectionate squeeze. “Louise darling, you’re all upset—you’re just being silly. There’s no earthly need to be upset. Poor Alec is terribly in love with you. You know that, don’t you?”
“He used to be.”
“He still is.”
“Did he say so?”
“He said he loved you the moment he saw you and he would go on loving you until he died.”
“Oh!” said Louise with a little sigh. She leant her head against Bel’s shoulder. “Tell me more.”
“You want a lot, don’t you?”
“Don’t tease. Just tell me all he said—everything—every single word.”
*
2
Bel had been given permission to use her own discretion as to what she told Louise and it seemed to her that the best thing was to tell the whole story from beginning to end. So she set to work without more ado. She began with the shabby old jacket and its torn lining and went on from there. Louise kept on interrupting and asking questions so the story took a long time to tell, but at last Bel came to the end—to the very end when Alec had announced his intention of selling his house, going into cheap lodgings and working day and night to put ‘Drummonds’ on its feet again and making it bigger and better than ever before.
“Oh Bel!” cried Louise with shining eyes. “Oh Bel, that’s splendid.”
“He’ll do it.”
“Yes, of course he’ll do it. We’ll do it together.”
“Together?”
“Yes, together. It will be a worthwhile thing to do. Alec can’t possibly live in cheap lodgings all by himself; he’d be frightfully lonely and miserable. He wouldn’t get proper food—or anything.”
“He can’t afford to marry. He said so.”
“I know—but he’s a silly fool,” said Louise tenderly. “It will be just as cheap to have a tiny flat—and ever so much nicer. I can cook his food and look after him properly, you see.”
“But Louise, I don’t think——”
“I shall write to him to-night—no I won’t,” said Louise in thoughtful tones. “Letters are useless. I couldn’t possibly explain everything properly in a letter. It will be better to go and see him. Yes, I shall go to Edinburgh and see him. I shall have to get hold of Mrs. Morgan to look after Daddy while I’m away. I wonder how soon she could come. Perhaps she might be able to come on Wednesday.”
“Louise, listen——” began Bel.
Louise was not ready to listen. She was far too busy making plans. “I can stay at the Caledonian Hotel,” she continued. “I’ve stayed there once or twice with Daddy and we were very comfortable. I shan’t tell Alec I’m coming, I’ll just go and see him. That’s much the best plan.”
Bel’s feelings were so mixed that she did not know what to say. She realised that Louise really loved Alec dearly and had loved him all the time. As a matter of fact Louise had said so. She had loved him but she had despised him—she had said she could not marry a man she despised. Now that Alec was going to work hard and pull his business together and make it bigger and better than ever before Louise could despise him no longer. Bel was glad about that—very glad indeed—because Alec was exactly the right man for Louise.
But was it all right? wondered Bel. Alec had said quite definitely that he could not afford to marry. Somehow Bel did not believe that he would marry Louise and take her to live in a tiny flat—a cheap uncomfortable flat. He had said he would have to economise in every possible way. Bel knew what that meant. It meant counting your pennies, buying cheap food, doing without new clothes, doing without holidays; it meant walking for miles in the rain to save a threepenny bus-fare. Would Alec agree to marry Louise and condemn her to that sort of life?
And how awful it would be if Louise went all the way to Edinburgh and Alec refused to agree to her plans!
It would be all the more awful because Louise was Louise. She was used to getting exactly what she wanted. She was not selfish—not a bit—for Louise always wanted happiness for the people she loved. She saw what was best for them and arranged their affairs in the best possible way. Obviously it would be best for Alec to have a home to return to after his day’s work and a loving wife waiting for him with a well-cooked meal. Louise wanted that for Alec; she would be absolutely shattered if Alec refused to agree to such a sensible plan.
“Bel,” said Louise after a little silence. “You haven’t told me what you think of my plan.”
“I’m not sure,” replied Bel. “Quite honestly I think it would be better to write. You see Alec said quite definitely——”
“Oh, I’m sure it will be all right,” interrupted Louise. “Alec will be terribly pleased when he sees me. He’ll do anything I say . . . and it’s such a sensible plan, isn’t it?”
“I’ll come with you to Edinburgh,” said Bel.
“You’ll come! Oh darling, how marvellous of you! I never thought of that for a moment . . . but it would make everything so much easier. Daddy won’t make such a fuss if he knows you’re going with me. Oh Bel, what a dear you are! What an absolute angel! Do you think Ellis will mind?”
Bel did not reply. Of course Ellis would mind but he would realise that she could not let Louise go to Edinburgh alone. She could always depend upon Ellis to understand.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
When Dr. Armstrong was informed of his daughter’s plan he was naturally very much against it—any father would have been against such an extraordinary plan—but Louise used all her persuasions, so at last the doctor gave in.
The doctor would not have given in if he had not known Alec Drummond and liked him very much indeed. Alec Drummond was an exceedingly good fellow. They had gone fishing together at Drumburly. They had fished the river together and they had fished the loch from a boat. It is impossible to spend a whole day in a small boat without getting to know one’s companion pretty thoroughly, so the doctor felt he knew Alec Drummond very well indeed . . . and he liked him. The doctor did not like Roy Lestrange. If the doctor had to choose between these two men as a husband for his darling child there was no doubt at all which of them he would choose.
The doctor would not have given in if Louise were going alone to Edinburgh, but Bel was going with her which made the expedition more tolerable. Bel was sensible and could be trusted to keep her friend’s impulsive nature in check.
“Oh well, if you’re determined to go, you must just go,” said Dr. Armstrong at last. “I think it’s mad, but——”
“You like Alec, don’t you, darling?”
“Yes, I like him very much indeed.”
“You’d like me to marry Alec, wouldn’t you?”
Dr. Armstrong did not want her to marry anyone—but that was selfish. He pulled himself together and replied, “I’d much rather you married him than—than someone else.”
“That’s lovely,” declared Louise, kissing her father affectionately. “That couldn’t be better. You’d rather I married Alec than anyone else.”
This was not exactly what he had said; it was not what he had meant either, but he could not explain.
“I know you’ll miss me,” continued Louise. “And I shall miss you quite horribly, but you don’t want your only daughter to be an old maid, do you?”
“No, of course not . . . but I can’t understand why you didn’t accept the man when he asked you to marry him; and why rush off to Edinburgh like this to tell him you’ve changed your mind? A letter would do just as well.”
“No, Daddy. It wouldn’t do at all.”
“I’ve told you I think it’s mad.”
“I suppose it is a
bit mad,” agreed Louise. “I’m rather a mad sort of person, I’m afraid.”
“And why did you have to wait until his business had gone to the dogs?” complained the doctor.
“Oh Daddy, it hasn’t gone to the dogs! It’s a very good business—Ellis says so—and it only needs a little care to make it bigger and better than ever before. We shall have to economise very strictly at first but Alec will soon put things straight. Anyhow you wouldn’t want me to marry for money, would you?”
The doctor sighed deeply and said, “Of course not, you silly girl, but all the same it’s a pity that he——”
“I don’t mind a bit,” declared Louise. “It will be fun economising and saving money. Alec and I love each other. That’s the main thing, isn’t it?”
Dr. Armstrong agreed that it was.
Having won her father’s consent it was necessary to engage Mrs. Morgan, so Louise went to see her in the little cottage near Newbury where she lived with her daughter and her son-in-law. Louise had not expected any difficulty here for Mrs. Morgan was always delighted to come to Coombe House whenever she was wanted (it was a pleasant change from her somewhat monotonous life) but on this occasion she was not very anxious to come. Her daughter was expecting a baby and Mrs. Morgan was busy helping her in the house. However, after some persuasion, she agreed to come on Wednesday until Friday.
It seemed rather foolish to go so far for such a short period but Louise was determined to see Alec and get everything fixed up, so she decided to travel north on Wednesday night and return by day on Friday.
Ellis made all the arrangements for the expedition and on Wednesday evening he met the two girls at Paddington, took them in a taxi to Euston and saw them safely into the northbound train. He was extremely efficient so there was no trouble of any kind whatever. He had their tickets, and gave them to the Sleeping-Car attendant with a substantial tip.
“You’ll look after the two ladies, won’t you?” said Ellis.
“Aye, that I will, sir,” was the reply.
“We’re in Scotland already!” exclaimed Louise.
Fletchers End (Bel Lamington Book 2) Page 22