Rosa Mundi and Other Stories Part 20

After that moment of madness by the wis.h.i.+ng-gate Nina's wanton desire to provoke to wrath the monster to whom she was chained died a sudden and unnatural death. She was scrupulously careful of his feelings from that day forward, and he treated her with a freezing courtesy, a cynical consideration, that seemed to form a barrier behind which the actual man concealed himself and watched.

That he did watch her was a fact of which she was miserably conscious.

She knew with the certain knowledge of intuition that he studied her continually. She was perpetually under the microscope of his criticism, and there were times when she told herself she could not bear it. He was too much for her; too pitiless a tyrant, too stern a master. Her life was becoming insupportable.

A fortnight of their honeymoon had pa.s.sed away, when one morning Wingarde looked up with a frown from a letter.

"I have had a summons to town," he said abruptly.

Nina's heart leapt at the words, and her relief showed itself for one unmanageable second in her face.

He saw it, and she knew he saw it.

"I shall be sorry," he said, with cutting sarcasm, "to curtail your enjoyment here, but the necessity for my presence is imperative. I should like to catch the two-thirty this afternoon if you can be ready by then."

Nina's face was burning. She held herself very erect.

"I can be ready before then if you wish," she said stiffly.

He rose from the breakfast-table with a curt laugh. As he pa.s.sed her he flicked her cheek with the envelope he held in his hand.

"You are a dutiful wife, my dear," he said.

She winced sharply, and bent her head over her own letters.

"I do my best," she said, after a moment.

"I am sure of it," he responded dryly.

He paused at the door as if he expected her to say more. More came, somewhat breathlessly, and not upon the same subject.

Nina glanced up with sudden resolution.

"Hereford," she said, "can you let me have some money?"

She spoke with the rapidity of nervousness. She saw his hand leave the door. His face remained quite unmoved.

"For yourself?" he asked.

Considering the amount of the settlement he had made upon her, the question was absurd. Nina smiled faintly.

"No," she said, "not for myself."

He took a cheque-book from his pocket and walked to a writing-table.

"How much do you want?" he asked.

She hesitated, and he looked round at her.

"I--I only want to borrow it," she said haltingly. "It is rather a big sum."

"How much?" he repeated.

"Five thousand pounds," she answered, in a low voice.

He continued to look at her for several seconds. Finally he turned and shut up his cheque-book with a snap.

"The money will be placed to your credit to-morrow," he said. "But though a financier, I am not a money-lender. Please understand that! And let your family understand it, too."

And, rising, he walked straight from the room.

No further reference was made to the matter on either side. Nina's pride or her courage shrank from any expression of grat.i.tude.

In the afternoon with intense thankfulness she travelled southward.

Never were London smoke and dust more welcome.

They went straight to Wingarde's great house in Crofton Square. Dinner was served immediately upon their arrival.

"I must ask you to excuse me," Wingarde said, directly dessert was placed upon the table. "I have to go out--on business. In case I don't see you again, good-night!"

He was on his feet as he spoke. In her surprise Nina started up also.

"At this hour!" she exclaimed. "Why, it is nearly eleven!"

"At this hour," he grimly responded, "you will be able to dispense with my society no doubt."

His tone silenced her. Yet, as he turned to go, she looked after him with mute questioning in her eyes. She had a feeling that he was keeping something from her, and--perhaps it was merely the natural result of womanly curiosity baffled--she was vaguely hurt that he did not see fit to tell her whither his business was taking him.

A few words would have sufficed; but he had not chosen to utter them, and her pride was sufficient to suppress any display of interest in his affairs. She would not court the snub that she felt convinced he would not hesitate to administer.

So he left her without explanation, and Nina went drearily to bed. On the following morning, however, the sun shone upon her, and she went downstairs in better spirits.

The first person she encountered was her husband. He was sauntering about the morning-room in his overcoat, a cup of strong tea in his hand.

He greeted her perfunctorily, as his fas.h.i.+on was.

"Oh, good-morning!" he said. "I have only just got back. I was detained unavoidably. I am going upstairs for an hour's rest, and then I shall be off to the City. I don't know if you would care to drive in with me.

I shall use the car, but it will then be at your service for the rest of the day."

"Have you been working all night?" Nina asked incredulously.

He nodded.

"It was unavoidable," he said again, with a touch of impatience. "You had better have a second brew of tea, this is too strong for you."

He set down his cup and rang the bell.

Nina stood and looked at him. He certainly did not look like a man who had been up all night. Alert, active, tough as wire, he walked back to the table and gathered together his letters. A faint feeling of admiration stirred in her heart. His, strength appealed to her for the first time.