Winding Paths Part 54

Lorraine contrived to smile with some appearance of reality, as she dried her eyes, and said:

"I don't quite know. It's idiotic of me, isn't it? If you hadn't come and stopped me, I should never have been able to appear to-night for swollen eyes."

But Hal was not so easily put off. She grasped both Lorraine's hands in hers and said resolutely:

"Why are you crying, Lorry?"

Feeling it hopeless to avoid some sort of a reason, she replied:

"I had a letter this morning that upset me rather. It is silly of me to take any notice, and I shouldn't if I were well. I've been wretchedly nervy lately, and it makes me silly about things."

"What was the letter about?"

"Oh, only some one who is jealous, I suppose; trying to get a little satisfaction out of saying a few things that may hurt me. It is so silly of me to mind."

Hal's mind immediately flew to Mrs. Vivian, and instead of inquiring any further she just said:

"Poor old Lorry," and kissed her affectionately.

Then with a little laugh:

"I suppose you weren't going to have any lunch at all, but I'm frightfully hungry. I hope to goodness there is something in the house."

"Run and tell Jean to see cook about it, there's a dear. I must bathe my eyes and try to look presentable."

While they lunched Hal chatted of many things, but she noted that Lorraine was looking thin, and seemed to have something on her mind, while she made no attempt to eat what was placed on her plate.

When she was pulling her gloves on later she asked:

"Why don't von take a week's holiday and go into the country, Lorry?...

It is no use going on until you are ill, as you did before."

"I think I must ask about it. I feel as if one week would do me a world of good. How is Sir Edwin? Have you seen him lately?"

"We played golf on Sat.u.r.day."

A white look came suddenly into Hal's face, and she riveted her attention on an apparently tiresome fastener as she asked, with the greatest show of unconcern she could muster, the question that brought her there.

"Have you heard a rumour that he is going to marry Miss Bootes?" naming one of the richest heiresses cf the day.

"No; I hadn't heard it."

Lorraine gave a quick glance at her face, but saw only the look of concentration on the fractious fastener.

"Well," Hal said in level tones, " I suppose she is worth about half a million, and I don't think he is rich."

"Probably he has only been seen speaking to her, or taking her to supper at a big reception . That would be quite enough to make some people link them at once, and fix the date of the wedding."

"There's a bun-fight at the Bruces' to-night," Hal ran on, "with Llaney to play the violin, and Lascelles to sing - quite an elaborate affair : so it is sure to be very boring ; but I suppose Alymer will be there, looking adorably beautiful, and all the women gazing at him. It will be entertaining to chaff him, anyhow."

"Well, don't tell him you found nie weeping," with a little laugh. " He might not realise it was only nerves."

"I'll tell him he's to take you away for a week's holiday," Hal replied lightly. " Goodness knows, you've done enough for him."

She went back to the office and settled down to her work with resolute determination, but any one who knew her well would have seen that some cloud seemed to have descended upon her, and that all the time she stuck to her work she was wrestling to appear normal, in the face of some enshrouding worry.

Through all the letter she was writing, and over the proofs she read to aid the chief, there seemed to be one sentence dancing in letters of glee, like a war-dance executed by little black devils on the foolscap of her mind.

It was last night she had heard it, that ominous piece of news that took her violently by surprise, in spite of her practical common sense.

Some one had said it quite casually in the motor bus - one man to another, as an item of news of the day.

"They say Sir Edwin Crathie is to marry Miss Bootes the heiress:

"What! The Right Honourable Sir Edwin Crathie?"

" So they say. He's very heavily in debt, I believe - over some bad speculations - and an heiress is about the only thing to float him.

Besides, the party wants rich men, and it would be a good move on his part."

That was all, and then the two silk-hatted, frock-coated men had got out. Eminently well-to-do men - probably both stockbrokers, but men who looked as if they would know.

Hal had gone on home in a sudden torment of feeling. Of course he was free to marry the heiress if be wished, but why, if so, had he dared once again to drop the mask of companiable friendliness with her and grow lover-like?

The change had been coming slowly of late, wrought with infinite caution and care. He had not meant to frighten her again, and find himself in disgrace, so he had taken each step very leisurely, and made sure of his ground before trusting himself upon it. The next time he kissed her, he had determined she should like it too well to resent his action.

And the safe moment, as he deemed it, had come the previous Sat.u.r.day after a delightful afternoon at golf. They had motored down to the Sundridge Park Links, and stayed afterwards to dine at the club-house, then back to Bloomsbury, and into the pretty sitting-room, where Dudley was not likely to appear until late, because he had gone to a theatre with Doris.

And then forthe second time he had kissed her.

But this was quite a different kiss. It was a climax to one of the best days he had ever had - a day in which, besides playing golf, they had talked of State secrets and State affairs. He had paid her the compliment of talking to her as if she were a man, and Hal, being exceptionally well informed on most questions of the day, was able to hold her own with him, and to make the conversation of genuine interest.

And his quick, observant brain greatly admired her power of argument, and her woman's directness of method, confirming the view that while a an usually indulges in a good deal of preamble, with many doubts and side-lights, a woman trusts to her instinct and arrives at the same conclusion in half the time. Of late, too, he had talked to her of interesting modern problems; and what had been frivolous in their earlier friends.h.i.+pm had solidified into a real companions.h.i.+p.

And now as he stood on the hearth with his back to the fire, looking with rather critical eyes round the pretty room that Hal had contrived to rob of nearly all its lodging-house aspect, she stood quite naturally and unconcernedly beside him drawing off her gloves.

"It was a good game," she was saying, "if you had not messed up that sixth hole. It's a brute, isn't it. I was lucky to escape that marshy bit."

"You are getting too good for me. Your drives out-cla.s.sed mine nearly every time."

"But I can't approach. I never, never, shall be able to hit a ball just far enough. If I loft on to the green at all it is always the far side, with a roll."

"You'll soon master that. A little more practice, and you'll be in form for matches. I think we'll have to go away somewhere and have a fortnight's golfing! Why not to some little French place? You would finish up a first-cla.s.s player."

Hal laughed lightly.

"Just imagine Brother Dudley's face when I told him I was going to France for a fortnight with you!"

"You wouldn't have to tell him anything about me," watching her with a sudden keenness in his eyes. "I should have to be personated by Miss Vivian or some one."