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"Your proposals are most generous," said Mr. Dalmayne, "and do you credit. But in matters of this kind I should never dream of attempting to control my daughter. You have, however, my full permission to speak to her, and if she is willing to marry you, you both have my full consent. My wife shares my views entirely. Marie is out with her mother at the present moment, but she will be in all the afternoon, and if you will call about four I will see that you have the opportunity for which you are seeking."
I thanked Mr. Dalmayne most cordially and promised to return in the afternoon. When I again arrived at Eaton Terrace I was shown into the drawing-room, where I found Mrs. and Miss Dalmayne and a sister of Mrs.
Dalmayne's. Tea was brought in, and shortly afterwards the visitor took her departure. A few minutes later Mrs. Dalmayne made some excuse for leaving the room, and I was left alone with Marie. My heart had beaten hard from excitement as I had knocked at the door, but strange to say I felt no nervousness now. I plunged into the matter that brought me without delay. I told Miss Dalmayne of the wonderful effect produced upon me by her beauty and charm, and in the fewest words possible I asked her to be my wife, promising that she would never repent it.
"You have done me a great honour," said Miss Dalmayne, "but I must have a little time to think over what you have said and to consult my parents. You shall hear from me at latest the day after tomorrow."
I shortly afterwards took my leave, and departed buoyed up by the strong hope that the desire of my heart would be obtained.
Nor was I disappointed. On the day she had promised I received a letter from Miss Dalmayne saying that she was willing to accept me, but frankly confessing that she had no love for me as yet, though admitting that she liked me. "If," she continued, "you are willing to take me on this understanding, I am ready to be your wife."
Needless to say I was willing to accept these terms, and three months afterwards we were man and wife.
It was in the month of July that we were married, and we went to Aix-les-Bains for the honeymoon. A few days previously Mr. Dalmayne asked me to lend him a thousand pounds, which I did cheerfully, for after what my friend Ross had told me I was fully prepared for such a request.
My wife had never been to Aix before, and seemed to amuse herself very much. She played a little at the tables, and with a considerable amount of success. I must admit that she was very kind to me, and though of course I easily saw that I did not at present possess her real affection, I was not discontented, and hoped for the time to come when we should be all in all to each other. We had met very few acquaintances at Aix, for it was not a good season as far as English visitors were concerned, owing to attacks on our country and Government by the French papers. But when we had been there about three weeks a Captain Morland came upon the scene. Captain Morland, who was an officer in the Grenadier Guards, had known my wife since she was a child. They seemed very pleased to see each other again, but there was a certain sadness that I noticed in the young officer's manner. He had just been invalided home from South Africa, where he had been on active service during the time with which my narrative deals. He was a handsome young man, tall and well built, and with kind and expressive blue eyes. He was singularly reticent as to his exploits during the war, though I heard from a friend of his who was with him at Aix that he had been mentioned in despatches and had been recommended for the D.S.O. He was a man to whom the merest chance acquaintance was certain to take a fancy. I am bound to say that I did so myself, and I hope that in what I am calmly relating I shall not be considered to have intentionally failed to do him justice.
It was the second week in August, and as the weather was very hot, my wife and I had determined to leave Aix and go to Trouville for a little sea air and bathing. Three days before our departure I returned to the hotel to dress for dinner. I was just going through the corridor when I heard voices in our sitting-room. They were the voices of my wife and Captain Morland.
I don't think that I am naturally a mean man, but I was mean enough to listen on this occasion.
"You mustn't blame me, Hubert," said my wife, "we were all on the verge of ruin, and I was bound to marry him."
"How could you consent to do such a thing? You don't care for him in the least."
"No," said my wife; "nor shall I ever do so if I live for fifty years.
I care for no one but you. But I shall always do my duty to my husband, who is a kind and good man and lives entirely for me."
"If he died, you would marry me?" asked Captain Morland.
"Of course I would, and, as the children's storybooks say, 'live happily ever afterwards.' But don't let us discuss deplorable futurities."
This was enough for me. I saw, now that it was too late, how wise my sister Ruth had been, and how foolishly I had acted. There was nothing to be done, however, to remedy matters, in view of the words spoken by my wife, and words which breathed of truth. I went out quietly into the garden of the hotel and came back a few minutes later. I asked Captain Morland to dine with us, and he accepted my invitation. I carefully watched him and my wife during the evening, and clearly saw that the case was hopeless from my point of view.
On the morrow I made my will, and left everything to my wife with the exception of fifty thousand pounds for my sister Ruth. I then wrote the little history of my mistake, and am posting it from the top of Mont Revard to my friend Ross, and have asked him to act as he thinks best.
It is hard to die, but, in my position, it is still harder to live.
Having set my entire affections in one direction, and having been hopelessly unsuccessful, there is only one thing to be done, and that is to end matters. And I shall end them to-night.
Extract from an Aix-les-Bains newspaper:--
"The body of a rich Englishman, named Gardner, who was staying at the Hotel de l'Europe, was found lying at the bottom of the precipice between Aix and Mont Revard. It is, of course, pure conjecture how the unfortunate gentleman met his fate, but no foul play is suspected, as his money and valuables were found upon his body. We anxiously await developments. The police are maintaining a strict reserve."
A PUZZLED PAINTER.
WRITTEN IN COLLABORATION WITH THE LATE SIR AUGUSTUS HARRIS.
CAST.
REMBRANDT TEMPENNY, an Artist.
MRS. TEMPENNY, his Wife.
CHARLES SYLVESTER, an Artist.
MRS. SYLVESTER, his Wife.
ROSALINE, a Model.
HENRICH SCHERCL, an Art Dealer.
ROBERT ADDISON, a Sporting Man.
SARAH ANN, a Maid-of-all-Work.
SUSAN, Parlourmaid at the Tempenny's.
GROGGINS, a Sheriff's Officer.
A PUZZLED PAINTER.
ACT I.
(SCENE I. TEMPENNY'S _Studio Doors R.L. and in Flat. As Curtain rises a knocking is heard at D.R_.)
MRS. TEMPENNY (_off_).
Rembrandt--Rembrandt!
(_Door opens, enter_ MRS. TEMPENNY; _followed by_ MRS. SYLVESTER.)
MRS. TEMPENNY.