A Bachelor Husband

"That is not much of a compliment to him."

"Perhaps not, but that is what I thought."

"Are you always as candid as this to everyone, Mr. Dakers?"

"I am told so--that is partly why I am so unpopular; that and another reason."

"What other reason?"

He smiled grimly, looking down at her.

"My ugly face," he said.

She gave an indignant cry of protest. "Oh, you are not ugly! I will not allow you to say such a thing."

And she wondered why she had ever thought him ugly when they first met, and then again, why she no longer thought so.

"The morning I pulled you out of the water," Feathers said unemotionally, his eyes fixed on the sea, "a woman in the crowd made a remark which I shall always remember. What do you think it was?"

"How can I guess?"

"She said 'Beauty and the Beast.'" Feathers laughed. "I suppose I did look rather like an old man of the sea--wet clothes are not becoming--to anyone," he added, with an amused memory of the object Chris had looked in his saturated dress suit.

"It was a horrible thing to have said!" Marie cried hotly. "She must have been a detestable woman."

"Oh, I don't know--I think I rather liked it."

"Did you? How queer! Why?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Because I am a queer sort of chap, I suppose. I remember a woman once telling me that I wore the ugliest clothes she had ever seen."

He glanced down at his baggy tweed suit. "Do you know that pleased me more than it would have done had she told me I was the smartest man in London."

Marie laughed.

"In the story of 'Beauty and the Beast,'" she said, "the Beast turned out to be a Fairy Prince, you know."

Feathers moved away from the railings and stood looking down the crowded promenade.

"That is a feat

They met him almost at once, and turned back to the hotel together.

"Had a topping bath," Chris said breezily. He looked very fresh and sunburnt, and his hair had crinkled up into little waves with the salt water. As a rule he kept it smooth with brilliantine.

"What have you two been doing?" he asked, looking at his wife.

"Talking! I have been telling Mr. Dakers that we are going back to London on Friday."

"Yes, Marie's had enough of this place and so have I," Chris said.

"Why not come along with us and stay for a bit. Feathers?"

Feathers was lighting a cigarette, which perhaps was why he did not answer immediately.

"Afraid I can't just now, thanks all the same," he said rather curtly. "Later on, if you'll ask me again, I shall be delisted."

"Always glad to see you," Chris said. He had quite forgotten the little upset of last night; unpleasantnesses pa.s.sed over his head very quickly, perhaps because real trouble had never knocked at his door.

"I tell Marie we shall have to look about for a house," he went on.

"Or perhaps a flat would be better, as it's not such a tie, and I like going away for week-ends."

"You'll have to stay at home now you're a married man, old son,"

said Feathers chaffingly, though his eyes were serious. "I thought all Benedicts buried the latchkey before they went to church."

Chris laughed shortly.

"You thought wrong then; we're not like ordinary humdrum married people, are we, Marie Celeste?" he asked, rather maliciously, with sudden bitter memory of the kiss she had refused him last night.

She shook her head.

"No, indeed, we are not, and I hope you haven't buried the latchkey, because I shall want one, too," she added with an effort.

Chris laughed and looked triumphantly at his friend.

"How's that for an up-to-date wife, my boy?" he asked.

"And a bachelor husband," Marie added deliberately.

"I should have thought the old way would have been good enough,"

Feathers said bluntly. "Excuse me, there's a man I want to speak to." He struck off across the hotel grounds and left them.

Chris looked at his wife and laughed.

"Queer old stick, isn't he?" he asked.

"He's been very kind to me," Marie answered.

"He's kind to everybody," Chris agreed. "I hope I shall not lose sight of him just because I am married."

"Why should you?"

"Because he's a confirmed bachelor, and he thought I was; he was furious with me for getting married."

"Was he?"

"Yes, we always knocked about together, you see, and I suppose he thinks everything will be different now."

"It need not be," said Marie.