Chapter 39
The day after to-morrow! Marie's heart fluttered into her throat as she read the words; she was afraid to go and tell Miss Chester because she knew the wild happiness and excitement in her eyes. The day after to-morrow! What an eternity it would seem. She did not know how she could live through the hours.
She forgave him all his neglect and indifference; he was coming home--she would see him again and hear his voice. Nothing else mattered.
And then, just an hour later, came a telegram. She opened it with trembling hands. She was sure it was to say that he was coming sooner. For a moment the scribbled message danced before her eyes:
"Plans altered; don't expect me. Letter follows."
She dismissed the waiting maid mechanically, and read the message again. She was glad that she had not told Aunt Madge after all--it would have been such a disappointment. She screwed the telegram up and threw it into the grate.
For the moment she hated him--she wished pa.s.sionately that she could make him suffer. She had sacrificed everything by her marriage with him--all hope of real happiness and a man's genuine love--even her friends.h.i.+p with young Atkins; while he--what difference had that mock ceremony made to Chris?
And the old despair came leaping back.
"I wish I could die! I wish they had let me drown."
Someone tapped at the door, and with an effort she pulled herself together to answer.
"Yes, what is it?"
"Mr. Dakers has called, if you please, ma'am."
"Feathers!" In her delight at seeing Dakers again Marie never knew that she had called him by his nickname. She ran across the room, her cheeks like roses and both hands outstretched.
"Oh, how nice! When did you come? Oh, I am glad to see you!"
He was just as ugly as she had remembered him--just as ungainly-- and his skin more deeply tanned and more rugged than ever, but the grip of his hand was wonderful in its strength, and his gruff voice when he spoke sent her heart fluttering into her throat
"Oh, I am so glad to see you again!" she said once more.
Feathers laughed.
"It's the best welcome I've ever had in my life," he said.
He let her hands go and stood back a pace. "Have you grown?" he asked, in a puzzled sort of way.
She shook her head.
"No; but I've got thin--at least, Aunt Madge says I have."
They looked at one another silently for a moment, and the thought of Chris was in both their minds, though it was Feathers who spoke of him.
"So Chris will be home on Thursday?"
She shook her head; for a moment she could not trust her voice.
Then she said lightly:
"He's not coming after all. I've just this minute had a wire." She went over to the grate, picked up the crumpled telegram and handed it to him. "It's just come," she said again faintly.
Feathers read it without comment, and Marie rushed on:
"I suppose you've all had such a good time you don't want to come back to smoky old London--is that it?"
"We did have a good time, certainly, but I came back on Monday, and I understood that Knight and Chris were following on Thursday."
"Yes."
Feathers dragged up a chair and sat down.
"And what have you been doing?" he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I don't know; nothing very much. I went to one or two theaters with Mr. Atkins."
"Atkins!"
"Yes. Why not? I like him; he's such a nice boy."
"Nice enough," Feathers admitted grudgingly.
"I shall expect you to take me now you've come home," Marie went on, hardly knowing what she was saying. "I'm so tired of being a gra.s.s widow." she added desperately.
She was longing to ask about Chris, what he was doing and who was up there with him, but she was afraid.
"I'm not keen on theaters," Feathers said slowly. "But I shall be delighted to take you if you would care for it."
"Of course!" There was a burning flush in her cheeks that made her look as if she were feverish, and her voice was shrill and excited as she went on: "I think this must be one of the occasions when I want a big brother, and--oh, you did offer, you know!" she added forlornly.
Feathers looked up quickly and smiled.
"Well, here I am," he said.
Miss Chester came into the room at that moment. She knew Feathers well; Chris had brought him to the house several times before, it appeared, when Marie was still at school in France and she was not slow in demanding news.
"When is Chris coming home? Why didn't you bring him with you, Mr.
Dakers? He has been away quite long enough; he ought to come home and look after his wife---"
"Oh, Auntie!" Marie cried, distressed.
"So he ought to, my dear," the old lady insisted. "You want a change of air yourself. Isn't she pale, Mr. Dakers?"
Feathers glanced quickly at Marie and away again.
"I think Chris will be home soon," he said quietly. "I am afraid golf is a very selfish game, Miss Chester."
"And Dorothy Webber--is she still up there?" Miss Chester asked presently.
Marie held her breath; it was the question she had longed and dreaded to ask.