"How lovely to see you, too, Norma. I almost wondered whether it was you, for a moment."
"But why? Have I changed so much?" , "Yes and no," he said, and smiled at her with all the old affectionate admiration in his eyes. "You've grown tremendously elegant, but I see, now that you open your eyes wide and look surprised, that it is just the old Norma."
She was struck by the faintly nostalgic note in his voice, and, not stopping to think whether she should wait for the suggestion to come from him, she said: "Can't we go somewhere and have tea and talk?" There was a fraction of hesitation before he said: "Yes, do let's. Have you finished your shopping?" She glanced back at the counter.
"Oh, it was nothing important. I'll leave it. It can wait, better than our talk can."
He laughed at that, as though really pleased, and they went outside, and in spite of the crowds, Paul found a taxi without apparent difficulty, and took her to Gunters.
In the taxi they talked very little, because the drive was short. But as soon as they were seated opposite each other, in the full light, Norma looked across at him and said: "Did your mother tell you that we met at the opera some weeks ago?"
"Yes, she did. She said you were looking like a Florentine noblewoman, in a stunning brocade frock and marvelous earrings."
"Oh, II Yes, it is rather a nice frock," Norma murmured, unaccountably put out.
"Having a good time in London, Norma?" he asked, smiling at her, as though he realized she was put out about something, and wanted to put her at ease again.
"Yes. I'm having a perfectly lovely time," Norma assured him. And then, because that made her sound so very much of a play-girl and nothing else, she added: "Sometimes I think it's time I found something useful to do, during part of the day. I don't want to be just a pleasure-seeker, and, although I do attend some art and music lectures. I enjoy them so much that I'm afraid they only rank as entertainment."
Paul laughed, "Well, at the moment, I daresay you're simply having rather a prolonged holiday," he said.
"But, Paul, it's been prolonged about long enough."
She was suddenly overwhelmingly conscious of the fact. "I think it's time I saw something of the more serious side of things. You did say once that I might come and see your club and know something about the sort of work you do."
The waitress brought their tea at that moment, and set it out on the table, so that Norma felt she had chosen a bad moment and that Paul could avoid taking up her remarks, if he chose.
"This looks rather good, doesn't it?" Paul said, as soon as the waitress had departed, and Norma saw her chance slipping.
"Paul, why do you avoid answering me?" "Dear, did you ask me anything?"
"Not exactly. But I was talking about your work and your promise to show me something of it."
Paul passed his hand over his hah- and gave a rather perplexed laugh.
"Norma dear, don't you think it would be better if we just dropped that idea?"
"No," cried Norma, "I don't. Why should we? Unless you mean it would rather bore you to take me round"
"No, it wouldn't bore me." Paul stirred his tea with unnecessary vigour and looked down into his cup. "But I don't think your guardian would like it very much, if you came running around the East End with me."
"But he wouldn't know! At least"
"My dear," Paul said, "I don't like your guardian, but he certainly has his rights as your guardian, and just think neither you nor I would much enjoy doing something surreptitiously which we knew he would stop if he could."
"No, no of course I didn't mean that. I spoke without thinking," Norma admitted. "I thought, you know, I could go down once and see your club, without specially mentioning that I was going. I mean, I don't have to give an account of my time, or anything like that. I'm fairly independent. Then I'd tell him about it afterwards, and ask if I could go and help.
If you thought I was capable," she added humbly.
Paul put his hand over hers, as it lay on the table. "I'm sure you're capable, and it's sweet of you to want to help, but he'd never let you do it."
"But, Paul, he might. He's really very indulgent, you know. He might be sarcastic about my wanting to do
it, but I think he'd let me have my own way."
"No, dear, he wouldn't. Believe me, he's quite set his face against our knowing each other much."
Norma's heart missed a beat.
"But, Paul, I don't know why you're so sure of that, Was that why you didn't write or ring or anything?"
"Um-hm."
"But I think you're exaggerating his opposition.
Really, you are," Norma insisted earnestly. "And you were always rather light-hearted about it before. What made you change your mind? When did you begin to take his disapproval so seriously?"
"The day I came to say good-bye to you, before I left Fairlee," said Paul slowly.
"Then' Norma looked astonished. "But, Paul, that was all a silly mistake. You mean you heard afterwards that I had really been at home? That was just a stupid servant's mistake."
Paul looked at her almost pityingly, and then smiled.
"No, dear. It wasn't a stupid servant who mistakenly gave me the information that you were out. It was your guardian. And we could see you perfectly well from the window, as he gave it."
CHAPTER SEVEN
"PAUL" Norma just whispered his name. "Is that is that true?" In spite of her fur coat and the warm atmosphere, she felt cold.
"I'm sorry, dear. It's quite true. But don't take it so much to heart. Of course it was insolent and unkind of him, but he wanted to make it abundantly clear that I was to keep off the grass."
"But, Paul, why How unreasonable! And, anyway, far, far worse than that is his being almost deceitful to me about it. Why was I left to think that a servant had made a mistake? Why didn't he tell me point-blank that I was not to see you, and let us have it out, decently and frankly?"
"Well, for one thing, that wouldn't be his way of tackling a problem," Paul said. "And, for another, to
be quite fair, he must have known that would only make you more determined to know me. As a matter of fact, the servant did say, 'I think Miss Norma is out.
I'll ask Mr. Yorke.' So I suppose you were merely given an incomplete account of what happened."
"Oh, Paul, that's only quibbling," cried Norma in distress.
"But it got him over an awkward bit of wardly obstinacy," Paul said, with a rueful ;grin.
"I can't smile about it. II love him too much to be able to bear being deceived by him. Besides perhaps there were other things. Paul, will you please tell me just what happened at that interview."
Paul shrugged and made a slight grimace.
"Not very much, really. It was short and to the point. The servant showed me in and your guardian just said politely, 'I'm sorry, but Norma is out, I'm afraid,' and at that moment, you strolled into view at the far end of the lawn. I -said, 'So I see.' But he never batted an eyelash, and just said, 'I'm afraid I must still insist that she is out, so far as you are concerned.' I controlled my temper somehow, and explained that I had come to say good-bye, as I was going away"
"Oh, Paul! I wish you'd just knocked on the window!"
"I didn't think of that," he admitted with a short laugh, "and, if! had, I suppose I couldn't have done it. Yon are or, at least, you were just a darling kid, Norma, and your guardian was perfectly entitled to choose your friends for you, up to a point. He said, still very politely, that no doubt I would write to say good-bye, and he would take it as a favour if! didn't enter into any real correspondence with you."
"Paul, didn't you ask him what on earth he had against you?"
"Yes, of course. He said smoothly that he had nothing against me at all, except that he preferred to choose his ward's friends for her, while she was still very young and impressionable which, of course, you are, darling," Paul added in affectionate parenthesis.
"I'm not such a baby as that," Norma exclaimed indignantly, and Paul, regardin
g her admiringly, said: "No. You've grown up a lot in the last month or two. But there it is, my dear. Heaven knows, I think your guardian something quite unprintable, but that doesn't take away from the fact that he is perfectly within his rights to tell me to keep off the grass. Considering how young you are, I should be a cad if! tried to work up some clandestine friendship with you unknown to your guardian. I tried all ways I could, to think of a way round him, but I couldn't. And the only thing seemed to be to fade out for the time being, and hope that, later on, when you could choose your own friends, we still liked each other."
"Oh, Paul, I'll always like you and want to be friends, Norma exclaimed earnestly.
"Thank you, dear. I feel the same, you know. But don't" he cleared his throat and looked faintly embarrassed" don't think of me as a misjudged hero, or anything, will you? Just take it as lightly as you can, for the time being, and remember that eighteen is very young, and there's all the time in the world."
"Y -yes," Norma agreed, rather doubtfully. "But, oh, Paul, I wish I knew why he specially picked on you. It isn't as though he objects to my going about with other men Richard Inworth, for instance. I often go out with him. Why should you be specially banned?"
Paul looked at her thoughtfully, and started to say: "I don't know" Then he changed his mind and said: "Don't you really know?"
"No, of course not." Norma looked startled. "Do you?"
"Yes, I think so. He knew you and I liked each other, quite naturally, from the start. He banned me just because you did like me."
"But how ridiculous!"
"Oh no. How clever," retorted Paul, with a touch of grim humour. "I don't fit into his schemes, whatever they are, dear, and he wasn't going to have me fitting in, on my own. So he just washed me out, and went right ahead. AH things considered, it was probably the best thing to do from his point of view."
"What do you mean, exactly about 'fitting into his schemes'?" Norma said slowly.
"Well, I don't know exactly, as you say," Paul admitted. "But undoubtedly he's got some very definite ideas for your future. Possibly for your own good, but remember this Norma not necessarily. So be a little on your guard. I don't know quite how far he would be prepared to press his own ideas and wishes."
"I know you don't believe it, but he is genuinely fond of me," whispered Norma, , "
Paul remained silent.
"Paul, I know he's behaved badly to you, but"
"Don't worry about that, dear."
"There's just one other thing I have to ask"
"Yes, Norma?"
"After you got my message, sent through your mother, did you did you try to ring me up?"
"Yes. I rang up one evening while you were out." Norma shut her eyes for a moment.
"He answered, didn't he?"
"Yes."
"Oh, Paul, what did he say?"
"Well, to tell you the truth, my dear, I didn't give him a chance to say anything," Paul told her with a smile. "As soon as I heard his voice, I rang off again. I didn't think we had anything useful to say to each other, and, although he hadn't specifically mentioned telephone calls, I knew I was breaking the spirit, if not exactly the letter, of his prohibition."
"Then you think he didn't know it was you?" "He may have guessed, though I don't see why he should. I had no occasion to speak, since it was he who spoke first."
"Oh, thank heaven!" said Norma, and the tears came into her eyes.
"My dear, you're not afraid of him, are you?" Paul sounded concerned.
"Oh, no, I just thought, for a moment, that he he'd told me another lie. Or, at least, implied it."
"No," Paul said kindly, "I think you can exonerate him on that score. Don't distress yourself about it, Norma."
"No, I won't. It's all right." Paul looked at her affectionately.
"Listen dear. It's no good trying to fix a halo on to Justin Yorke. You'll get badly hurt every time it slips off. Just try to accept the fact that, though he is tremendously charming and, I don't doubt, a generous guardian, he is also a ruthlessly determined and rather unscrupulous man."
Norma winced.
"You say you're very fond of him. All right. We don't like or dislike people for their virtues or their faults. There's no reason why you shouldn't be fond of him, especially as, in most ways, he seems to be very good to you. Only don't build up in your imagination a Justin Yorke who doesn't exist."
"I don't, really," Norma said in a low voice. "I know instinctively that a lot of what you're saying is true. But, on the other hand, I do know him better than most people by now, Paul, and most of the time he's dear and kind and frightfully understanding."
There was a slight pause, and then Paul said: "Very well," though Norma thought, from the slightly resigned tone of his voice, that he reserved his own opinion in the face of what he considered to be exceptionally obstinate fidelity.
"I really ought to go now." She looked up, suddenly remembering the time.
"All right." He signed to the waitress to bring their bill. "It's been lovely seeing you, Norma, and I'm very glad to have had these explanations clear between us."
"I'm very glad, too, Paul." She smiled at him.
"Don't worry about me, or think I'm too terribly upset. It was just that... oh, well, I suppose what you had to say was rather unexpected."
"Yes, of course." He sounded almost soothing now. "And, even if it seems best for us not to see much of each other for a while, don't think I shall feel less friendly or forget about you or anything."
"Thanks, Norma. It's sweet of you to make that clear." He took her hand. "In view of your guardian's prohibition, I can't start saying, 'Don't forget me,' and all that sort of thing. But I'm very glad if it's just tacitly understood between us that, without having heroics, we hope to renew our friendship when the circumstances are a bit more favourable."
"Oh, Paul, you do put things well," Norma said, feeling that, if only her guardian could have heard how sensibly and honourably Paul was behaving, he would have relented.
"Thanks. I thought 'when the circumstances are more favourable' sounded rather like a Government circular, myself," declared Paul, with a laugh, as they got up to go. "But I'm glad if I've managed to express what we're both feeling."
Outside, he found a taxi for her.
"Good-bye, Norma. Look after yourself, and don't worry. I expect you'll be returning to Bishopstone sometime in the spring, and Xenia and I shall be at Fairlee then, you know. I dare say we shall see something of each other then, in the perfectly ordinary course of events.
"Oh, yes! I hadn't thought of that." Norma brightened considerably at the prospect.
"Feel less like the princess in the ivory tower now?' inquired Paul, laughing, as he handed her into the taxi.
"Yes," Norma said and smiled. "Though I think," she added, setting her red mouth rather firmly, "I think I shall have a word with the magician in charge, all the same."
Paul shut the door of the taxi, and leaned through the open window to say a last word.
"Do you think that's wise? Mightn't it be best to let sleeping dogs lie?"
"No," Norma said. "The dogs are not sufficiently asleep. Good-bye, Paul dear, and thank you for everything."
And then he stood back to wave his hand, and the taxi drove away.
As the taxi slipped in and out of the Oxford Street traffic, and then headed towards St. John's Wood, Norma leant back against the shiny upholstery and considered what she had said to Paul. She had committed herself at least, so far as her own pride was concerned to having things out with her guardian. And now she hated the prospect.
"But I can't go on like this," Norma thought. "I can't and I won't have him pulling strings in the background of my life, and manoeuvering me into situations that I'm unaware of myself."
"But, when she reached home, she realized that there was not going to be an immediate opportunity for a frank talk. There was a small dinner party that evening which she had forgotten, in the agitation of meeting and talking wit
h Paul and now she had barely time to bath and change before the guests were due.
By the time she came downstairs, her guardian was already in the drawing-room; standing before the fire and glancing at the evening paper. He looked up, as she came in, and Norma was struck afresh by the impossibility of guessing what went on behind that cool, imperturbable expression of his.
He looked quite extraordinarily handsome in evening clothes and she wondered, not for the first time, how old he really was. He might have been anything between thirty and forty, she supposed, and, when his usually cold blue eyes warmed, as he smiled a greeting, she thought how utterly charming he looked.
Only his thin handsome mouth then retained anything of that quality which made people afraid of him. That quality which the people in the train had long ago described as "sinister."
"Did you have a successful day's shopping?" he inquired, tossing down the newspaper.
"Yes, thank you. Very."
"I thought you must have, as you didn't come in to tea. I half expected you."
"Yes. I meant to come home to tea," Norma said. And then, as a sudden impulse of perversity moved her, she added: "But I met Paul Cantlin, while I was shopping, and we had tea together."
"Did you?" He sounded no more than conventional interested, and Norma felt shaken, as she reflected what active thoughts that casual comment must conceal.
"We practically ran into each other in a crowded store, and I suggested that we went somewhere where we could talk."
She thought she would explain that, in case he thought Paul had engineered the meeting. As it was, her guardian made a slight face, expressive of surprised distaste.
"My dear Norma! You made the suggestion?" "Yes," Norma said steadily. "It was such an age since I had seen or heard of Paul. I thought I'd like to find out why that was."
"And did you find out?" inquired her guardian, wit! the same sarcastic smile he might have bestowed on any other impulsive indiscretion of hers.
"Yes." Norma spoke slowly, and more coldly than she would have thought possible. "I found out."
And just then Coxon opened the door, and announce the first of their guests.
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