Chapter 48
He hesitated, then sat down again.
"Well--I did not mean to, but as I've been asked----"
Marie laughed.
"Do you always do as you're asked?"
"It depends on who asks me."
She rang the bell for tea.
"And please tell my aunt that Mr. Dakers is here," she said to the maid.
She was always very punctilious about telling Miss Chester whenever Feathers called.
"Have you heard from Chris?" Feathers asked suddenly.
"Yes--last night. He is at Windermere--on his way home."
Feathers looked up quickly.
"Then he may be here at any time?"
Marie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't expect him yet," she said in rather a hard voice. "If he likes Windermere, I dare say he will stay for a week or so."
There was a little silence.
"Of course if he should turn up to-morrow, our little outing must be postponed," Feathers said quietly.
Marie did not answer, and he repeated his words.
"Yes, of course," she agreed then.
She looked at him critically. Had he begun to dress better since he came back to London? Or was it just that she was getting used to him, she wondered? She would have been surprised if she had known the time and trouble Feathers spent on his appearance each morning before he came to see her, and how he cursed his ugliness and ungainliness every time he caught sight of himself in a gla.s.s.
He turned up in white flannels the following morning, with a light dust coat and a soft felt hat.
Miss Chester refused to come, as Marie had prophesied.
"I detest the river," she said strenuously, "And after your dreadful experience, Marie, I wonder you have the pluck to go near water again."
"I shall be quite safe with Mr. Dakers," Marie answered, "and it's such a lovely day! Do change your mind and come, dear."
But Miss Chester would not be persuaded.
"And don't be late home," was her last injunction. "I shall be nervous and unhappy about you till you are safely back again."
"I am going to enjoy myself," Marie said. "I am quite sure we are going to have a lovely
She had carried out Feathers' instructions by choosing a white linen frock and a Panama hat, and white shoes and stockings. She looked very young and dainty. Feathers thought, as she came running down the stairs.
"You will want a coat," he said quietly. "It may rain."
"Rain!" she echoed, scornfully. She made a little grimace at him.
"Why, there isn't a cloud in the sky." But she went back obediently for the coat, and to say good-bye to Miss Chester.
"And, oh, my dear, do be careful!" the old lady urged anxiously.
"Whatever shall I say to Chris if anything happens?"
"Nothing will happen," said Marie, "except that we shall thoroughly enjoy ourselves."
She shut the drawing-room door behind her, and stopped for a moment in the hall to peep at herself in the gla.s.s.
She had not looked so well for a long time. She turned away with a little sigh of contentment, and at that moment a telegraph boy ran up the steps to the front door.
Seeing Marie, he did not ring the bell, but handed her the yellow envelope. It was addressed to "Lawless," and Marie tore it open apprehensively.
"Home this afternoon--Chris."
Marie's heart gave a great leap, then seemed to stand still.
"No answer," she said mechanically.
She watched the boy go down the steps and mount his bicycle at the curb, then she read the short message again.
"Home this afternoon--Chris."
This meant that she could not have her day on the river--that she must tell Feathers she could not go with him.
He was outside in the road, tinkering with the car, and had not seen the telegram delivered. With a sudden impulse Marie thrust it into her frock. Why should she stay at home just because after all these weeks Chris chose to come back? Why should she give up a day's enjoyment with a man who really enjoyed her society just to be hurt and ignored and made to suffer afresh?
Feather called to her from the road: "Are you ready, Mrs. Lawless?"
"Yes, coming now." She ran down the steps, her cheeks flushed with a defiant sense of guilt. It was the first time in her life that she had done anything mean or shabby, but her heart had grown hard during the past days, and it no longer seemed a dreadful matter that she should not trouble to be present when Chris came home.
There was a large picnic basket strapped to the back of the car, and Feathers told her laughingly that he had brought a magnum of champagne.
Marie opened her brown eyes wide.
"Gracious! Who do you think will drink it all?"
"Oh, I think we can, between us, quite easily. We've got all day before us, you know."
Marie leaned back luxuriously. She had resolutely pushed all thought of Chris from her mind and she did not mean to think of him till they got back home again.
"I'm going to enjoy myself, and not worry about anything," she said recklessly.
Feathers looked down at her. "Do you worry about things?" he asked gently. "Don't do it, Mrs. Lawless! It brings wrinkles and chases away smiles."