The Second Fiddle Part 30

Then he ordered tea from a hovering waitress. "If you have anything decent to eat, you can bring it," he said savagely.

Stella smiled deprecatingly at the outraged waitress before she answered Julian.

"I'm not ill," she said gently, "and I couldn't very well tell you anything, could I, when I didn't know where you were?"

"Of course, if you make a point of eating and drinking poison," said Julian, bitterly, "you aren't likely to be very well. I suppose you could have told my mother, but no doubt that didn't occur to you. You simply wished--" He stopped abruptly at the approach of the waitress.

Stella did not try to pour out the tea; she showed no proper spirit under Julian's unjust remarks. She only put her elbows on the table and looked at him.

"There, drink that," he said, "if you can. It's the last chance you'll get of this particular brand. They call it China, and it looks like dust out of a rubbish-heap. I don't know what you call that thing on the plate in front of you, but I suppose it's meant to eat. So you may as well try to eat it."

"Food," said Stella, with the ghost of her old fugitive smile, "isn't everything, Julian."

"It's all you'll get me to talk about in a place like this," said Julian, firmly. "I wonder you didn't suggest our meeting in one of those shelters on the Strand! Do you realize that there's a Hindu two yards to your right, a family of Belgian refugees behind us, and the most indescribable women hemming us in on every side? How can you expect us to talk here?"

"But you and I are here," said Stella, quietly. "Julian, how could you believe what Eurydice told you?"

Julian lowered his eyes.

"Must I tell you now?" he asked gravely. "I'd rather not."

"Yes, I think you must," said Stella, relentlessly, "You needn't tell me much, but you must say enough for me to go on with. If you don't, I can't talk at all; I can only be afraid."

Julian kept his eyes on a tea-stained spot of marble. There was no confidence in his voice now; it was not even very steady as he answered her.

"I made a mistake," he said. "You weren't there. I wanted you to have everything there was. I can't explain. I ought to have let you choose, but if you'd chosen wrong I should have felt such a cur. I can't say any more here. Please, Stella!"

She was quick to let him off.

"I oughtn't to have left you so soon," she said penitently; "that was _quite_ my fault."

Julian made no answer. He drew an imaginary pattern on the table with a fork; he couldn't think why they'd given him a fork unless it was a prevision that he would need something to fidget with. It helped him to recover his a.s.surance.

"I suppose you know," he said reflectively, contemplating the unsuspicious Hindu on his right, "that I'm never going to let you out of my sight again?"

"I dare say I shall like being alone sometimes," replied Stella; "but I don't want you to go calmly off and arrange things that break us both to pieces. I'd never see you again rather than stand that!"

"Now," said Julian, "you've roused the Belgians; they're awfully interested. I'll never go off again, though you're not very accurate; it was you that went off first. I only arranged things, badly I admit, when I was left alone. I wasn't so awfully calm. As far as that goes, I've been calmer than I am now. Have you had enough tea?"

"You know it's you I mind about," said Stella, under her breath.

"You mustn't say that kind of thing in a tea-shop," said Julian, severely. "You're very nearly crying, and though I'd simply love to have you cry, I believe it's against the regulations. And there's a fat lady oozing parcels to my left who thinks it's all my fault, and wants to tell me so."

"I'm not crying," said Stella, fiercely. "I'm going back to work. I don't believe you care about anything but teasing."

"I don't believe I do," agreed Julian, with twinkling eyes; "but I haven't teased any one for six months, you know, Stella. How much may I tip the waitress? Let's make it something handsome; I've enjoyed my tea.

I'll take you across to the town hall."

"It's only just the other side of the road," Stella objected.

"Still, I'd like you to get into this taxi," said Julian, hailing one from the door.

Stella looked at him searchingly. "I should be really angry if you tried to carry me off," she warned him.

"My dear Stella," said Julian, meeting her eyes imperturbably, "I haven't the nerve to try such an experiment. I'm far too much afraid of you. Get in, won't you? The man'll give me a hand." He turned to the driver. "Drive wherever you like for a quarter of an hour," he explained, "and then stop at the town hall."

The taxi swung into the darkened thoroughfare, and Julian caught Stella in his arms and kissed her as if he could never let her go.

"Not very clever of you," he murmured, "not to guess why I wanted a taxi."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Not very clever of you," he murmured, "not to guess why I wanted a taxi"]

Stella clung to him speechlessly. She did not know what to say; she only knew that he was there and that the desperate loneliness of the empty world was gone.

She wanted to speak of the things that she believed in, she wanted not to forget to rea.s.sure him, in this great subdual of her heart; but she did not have to make the effort. It was Julian who spoke of these things first.

He spoke hurriedly, with little pauses for breath, as if he were running.

"I know now," he said, "I've been a fool and worse. I saw it as soon as I looked at you; it broke me all up. How could I tell you'd mind losing a man like me? I'm glad it's dark; I'm glad you can't see me. I'm ashamed. Stella, the fact is, I gave you up because I couldn't stick it; my nerve gave way."

"I shouldn't have left you so soon; it was all my fault for leaving you," Stella murmured.

"That rather gives the show away, doesn't it," asked Julian "not to be able to stand being left?"

"You weren't thinking only of yourself," Stella urged defensively.

"Wasn't I?" said Julian. "I kept telling myself I was behaving decently when I was only being grand. Isn't that thinking of yourself?"

"But on the downs," urged Stella, "you weren't like that, darling."

"You were on the downs, remember," said Julian. "I got your point of view then--to give in, anyhow, to love. It wasn't easy, but it made it more possible that if I didn't marry you, you only had hard work and a dull life. It seemed different when I heard about that fellow Travers.

You see, that cut me like a knife. I kept thinking--well, you know what a man like me keeps thinking--at least I don't know that you do. It was my business to fight it through alone."

"No it isn't," Stella protested quickly. "We haven't businesses that aren't each other's."

"Well," admitted Julian, "I couldn't bear thinking I'd cheated you out of my own values; so I let yours slide. I knew, if I gave you the choice, you'd stick to me; but I couldn't trust you not to make a mistake. That's where my nerve broke down."

"Ah, but I didn't know," whispered Stella; "I didn't know enough how to show you I loved you. If you'd seen, you wouldn't have broken down. I was afraid to try. Now I can. All these six months have eaten up my not knowing how." She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "You see, I do know how!"

He held her close, without speaking; then he murmured: "And knowing how doesn't make you afraid?"

"It's the only thing that doesn't," said Stella, lifting her eyes to his.

The taxi stopped before the door of the town hall.

"And have I got to let you go now?" Julian asked gently.

"I shall never really go," Stella explained; "but you can let me get out and tidy up the surveyor's papers, and then be free for you to-morrow."