Barnaby Part 32

"Oh, no, no, it was not," said Susan.

"Not Julia's hand disguised? That woman is capable of anything. She's been here several times inquiring. Sending in brazen messages!--"

"Is there anything in the paper?" said Barnaby.

Susan glanced hastily up and down the sheet. No, there was nothing.

Among the theatrical announcements an American play that had come to London.

"She is looking in the advertis.e.m.e.nts!" said Lady Henrietta, affectionately scornful. "My dear, the poor boy is thirsting for murders and politics."

The advertis.e.m.e.nts.... And among them----

"_To-night at 8._

"_The Great American Comedy--'Shut Your Windows' ... Mr. Rostiman's Company. Mr. Hayes, Mr. Vine..._" (a long list of names that were unknown to her, and unmeaning);--"_And Miss Adelaide Fish_."

Barnaby was up and dressed.

He was much amused at his own weakness, at his dependence on that slim, supporting arm. He let Susan settle him carefully in a chair, and then frightened her by getting on to his feet and pretending to walk out of the room. She flew to him, scared, reproachful, making him lean his weight on her shoulder as she brought him back.

"Tyrannical girl!" he said.

She looked down on him as he sat there, dressed and shaved, his clothes fitting rather loosely, his blue eyes hollow. How unspeakably dear he was. How hard to face emptiness....

"I'll put your mother in charge of you while I am gone," she said.

"Don't be too long," said Barnaby. "I'll miss you."

Unwillingly her heart sank. He would miss her. In that little while; in that scant half-hour--!

"Patient," she said, "you flatter."

And smiled at him bravely, and went away.

"I'll go to him immediately," said Lady Henrietta. She was writing furiously, despatching a counterblast to the aunt's interfering letter, which had contained more warnings than she had read aloud. It deserved six pages.

"How do you spell inseparable?" she asked, hardly interrupting the delightful business of administering a slap to one whose daughters-in-law were not wax and whose sons were wild. Distractedly she glanced at Susan.

"You look wan," she said. "I told them you were to have the motor with the hood off. Get all the air you can. Do you mind taking this old brooch into the town to be mended?" Her eyes twinkled as she unpinned it and put it in Susan's hand.

"There!" she said, "that will make sure you don't hurry back too soon, pretending you have had your breath of air."

The girl went into her own room and slipped on a hat and coat. While she tied a veil round her head she remembered that in the diamond star, which was the only thing in the house that was her own, a stone was loose. Since she must go in to the jeweller's on Lady Henrietta's trumped-up errand she might as well take it with her.

The motor was not round when she descended, and she sank into one of the deep chairs in the hall. When she was away from Barnaby the strength in her seemed to fail. It had been heavily tried, and the strain was telling on her, now that it was relaxed.

The tan that had been scattered on the avenue still deadened the sound of wheels. But she saw Macdonald, who was waiting to pack her into the car, moving to the door; and rising, she went towards it. She had not time to draw back as she saw her mistake, for Julia was on the steps.

Swift in seizing her opportunity the visitor walked in at the open door. There was something belligerent in her entrance.

"How is he?" she asked, without preamble, addressing Susan. Macdonald had fallen back discreetly.

"He is better," said Susan coldly. "I have to go out, Miss Kelly."

"I must see him," said Julia, in a low, intense voice that would not be denied. "I've tried and tried, but they never would let me in. You will take me to him."

"_I?_" said Susan.

Julia did not blench under these accents of proud surprise.

"Yes," she said. "You daren't refuse me. I know too much."

The a.s.surance in her voice warned the girl that this was no hysterical vapouring, but a challenge. She answered her bravely, maintaining an outward calm.

"I am sorry I cannot do as you wish," she said.

How lovely the woman was, with her angry flush, and her long-lashed eyes. How recklessly she spoke. Some theatrical impulse in her had overridden prudence; whoever liked might have heard her.... With that odd irrelevance that keeps the mind steady under fire Susan was wondering who it was that had said--"Yes, she's a beauty, but the back of her neck is common----"

"You have no right to keep us apart," said Julia. "I've been patient ... but this is too much! After all I'm not stone; I'm a woman--With all the world gabbling about you and your devotion--! I daresay you think you are getting an influence over him. Poor Barnaby--! All this while you have had him at your mercy!"

She fixed her eyes on Susan with an indescribable stare of scorn.

"Will you take me to him?" she said.

"I will not," said Susan.

Julia came nearer. They were practically alone. Macdonald was putting rugs in the motor.

"I believe you are fond of him," she said ruthlessly. "Fond of him!

You the cheat, you the impostor--!"

Ah,--she had known what was coming. She had read it in Julia's eyes.

Desperately she stood her ground.

"You insulted me once before," she said slowly.

"Yes," said Julia. "Even then I was not blinded.... But now I know.

I've known ever since the Hunt Ball, when Barnaby----"

"Barnaby--?" Susan repeated the word under her breath as if it was strange to her.

"--When Barnaby said that you were not his wife."

The girl stretched out her hands unconsciously for a support that she did not find. There was a mist between them, and she swayed on her feet. Weak in spirit and body from her long nursing, she felt as if someone had struck her a whirling blow. In a kind of vision she saw Barnaby and Julia dancing;--always Barnaby and Julia dancing;--people had talked that night; they had sympathized with her.... Well might Julia laugh at her disapproving world if he had whispered--that! And it was true. She had only to look in Julia's triumphant face to know that this thing was true.