Chapter 26
"No, that's what I tell him," Chris agreed, eagerly. "I told him you were not an exacting woman; I told him that we had known one another all our lives."
There was a little silence.
"Did you tell him why you married me?" Marie asked.
Chris flushed.
"What do you mean? Is it likely?"
"I thought you might, as--as it was only just a sort of business arrangement."
Chris stood still and looked down at her.
"Do you know that you have altered a great deal lately, Marie Celeste?" he said.
She forced herself to look at him.
"Do you mean my face?"
He frowned. "Your face--no! I mean in yourself! I was only thinking this morning that you seem absolutely different to--to the girl you were that day outside Westminster Abbey?"
She turned sharply away.
"Perhaps I am; a great deal has happened since then."
Chris seemed to be considering the point.
"Years ago," he said suddenly, "I used to flatter myself that you were rather fond of me, Marie Celeste."
She caught her breath, but made no answer, and he persisted, "You were, weren't you?"
"Yes--of course I was!" she said desperately.
"Even up to that last time you went back to Paris I thought the same," he went on. "You had a funny little way of looking at me, Marie Celeste--a way I rather liked, I remember."
"And that made you think I was desperately in love with you?" she asked, in a hard voice.
"Well, not desperately in love, perhaps, but I used to think you had a sort of sneaking affection for me--I was a conceited donkey, I suppose."
"I married you--anyway!" she said breathlessly.
"Yes, and what a marriage," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.
Marie put her hand to her throat as if she were choking.
"I thought we were getting along well
"Did you? That all depends what you mean by well! I suppose it's all right, if it suits you."
She gave a queer little laugh.
"Chris, you are not trying to pretend that you're in love with me!"
The words seemed forced from her and her heart beat to suffocation as she waited for his reply.
It came without a second's hesitation.
"I suppose I've never been in love with any woman, but if there ever has been anyone it's been you, Marie Celeste."
A poor little grain of comfort, and yet it was comfort to know that n.o.body else came before her.
She felt almost happy for the rest of the day; even Feathers noticed that her eyes were brighter and that there was more color in her cheeks.
"This place is doing you good at last, Mrs. Lawless," he said to her during the evening. "It's the first time I've seen you with a color."
She put up her hands to her cheeks, laughingly.
"And it's my own," she said, "and not out of the box."
His grave eyes searched her face.
"Ignoramus as I am, I could have told you that," he answered.
Mrs. Heriot came rustling up to them; she wore a beautiful evening gown, cut rather unnecessarily low, and a diamond star glittered on her white neck.
"What are you two laughing about?" she demanded. "Mr. Dakers, I must compliment you. You always seem to be able to make Mrs.
Lawless laugh, and she's such a serious little person as a rule."
She sat down between them; she always liked to be the center of a conversation.
"There'll be no moon to-night," she said suddenly. "It's clouded over; I think we shall have some rain."
"It must be badly needed," Feathers said sententiously.
She made a little grimace.
"The crops and the farmers want it, I suppose you mean! Do you know that I've no interest in either of them?"
"You surprise me," said Feathers gravely.
She held out her white hand.
"Give me a cigarette, Mr. Dakers!" She glanced round the lounge.
"Where is everyone to-night?" she asked plaintively.
"I think most of the men are in the billiard room," Marie said hesitatingly; she knew that Chris was--he had asked her permission first, and the little attention had pleased her, though she knew quite well that he would have gone, anyway, had he desired to go.
"I think Mr. Dakers is simply splendid, you know," Mrs. Heriot said with enthusiasm, when presently he had walked away. "He makes such a wonderful friend, doesn't he?"