Chapter 46
"I am not aware that he is dissipated."
"What!"
"I say that I am not aware that Gerald requires any interference from me--or from you, either," said Neergard coolly. "And as far as that goes, I and my business require no interference either. And I believe that settles it."
He touched a b.u.t.ton; the man-servant appeared to usher Selwyn out.
The latter set his teeth in his under lip and looked straight and hard at Neergard, but Neergard thrust both hands in his pockets, turned squarely on his heel, and sauntered out of the room, yawning as he went.
It bid fair to become a hard day for Selwyn; he foresaw it, for there was more for him to do, and the day was far from ended, and his self-restraint was nearly exhausted!
An hour later he sent his card in to Rosamund Fane; and Rosamund came down, presently, mystified, flattered, yet shrewdly alert and prepared for anything since the miracle of his coming justified such preparation.
"Why in the world," she said with a flushed gaiety perfectly genuine, "did you ever come to see _me_? Will you please sit here, rather near me?--or I shall not dare believe that you are that same Captain Selwyn who once was so deliciously rude to me at the Minster's dance."
"Was there not a little malice--just a very little--on your part to begin it?" he asked, smiling.
"Malice? Why? Just because I wanted to see how you and Alixe Ruthven would behave when thrust into each other's arms? Oh, Captain Selwyn--what a harmless little jest of mine to evoke all that bitterness you so smilingly poured out on me!... But I forgave you; I'll forgive you more than that--if you ask me. Do you know"--and she laid her small head on one side and smiled at him out of her pretty doll's eyes--"do you know that there are very few things I might not be persuaded to pardon you? Perhaps"--with laughing audacity--"there are not any at all.
Try, if you please."
"Then you surely will forgive me for what I have come to ask you," he said lightly. "Won't you?"
"Yes," she said, her pink-and-white prettiness challenging him from every delicate feature--"yes--I will pardon you--on one condition."
"And what is that, Mrs. Fane?"
"That you are going to ask me something quite unpardonable!" she said with a daring little laugh. "For if it's anything less improper than an impropriety I won't forgive you. Besides, there'd be nothing to forgive.
So please begin, Captain Selwyn."
"It's only this," he said: "I am wondering whether you would do anything for me?"
"_Any_thing! _Merci_! Isn't that extremely general, Captain Selwyn? But you never can tell; ask me."
So he bent forward, his clasped hands between his knees, and told her very earnestly of his fears about Gerald, asking her to use her undoubted influence with the
"He is very fond of you, Mrs. Fane--and you know how easy it is for a boy to be laughed out of excesses by a pretty woman of experience. You see I am desperately put to it or I would never have ventured to trouble you--"
"I see," she said, looking at him out of eyes bright with disappointment.
"Could you help us, then?" he asked pleasantly.
"Help _us_, Captain Selwyn? Who is the 'us,' please?"
"Why, Gerald and me--and his family," he added, meeting her eyes. The eyes began to dance with malice.
"His family," repeated Rosamund; "that is to say, his sister, Miss Erroll. His family, I believe, ends there; does it not?"
"Yes, Mrs. Fane."
"I see.... Miss Erroll is naturally worried over him. But I wonder why she did not come to me herself instead of sending you as her errant amba.s.sador?"
"Miss Erroll did not send me," he said, flus.h.i.+ng up. And, looking steadily into the smiling doll's face confronting him, he knew again that he had failed.
"I am not inclined to be very much flattered after all," said Rosamund.
"You should have come on your own errand, Captain Selwyn, if you expected a woman to listen to you. Did you not know that?"
"It is not a question of errands or of flattery," he said wearily; "I thought you might care to influence a boy who is headed for serious trouble--that is all, Mrs. Fane."
She smiled: "Come to me on your _own_ errand--for Gerald's sake, for anybody's sake--for your own, preferably, and I'll listen. But don't come to me on another woman's errands, for I won't listen--even to you."
"I _have_ come on my own errand!" he repeated coldly. "Miss Erroll knew nothing about it, and shall not hear of it from me. Can you not help me, Mrs. Fane?"
But Rosamund's rose-china features had hardened into a polished smile; and Selwyn stood up, wearily, to make his adieux.
But, as he entered his hansom before the door, he knew the end was not yet; and once more he set his face toward the impossible; and once more the hansom rolled away over the asphalt, and once more it stopped--this time before the house of Ruthven.
Every step he took now was taken through sheer force of will--and in _her_ service; because, had it been, now, only for Gerald's sake, he knew he must have weakened--and properly, perhaps, for a man owes something to himself. But what he was now doing was for a young girl who trusted him with all the fervour and faith of her heart and soul; and he could spare himself in nowise if, in his turn, he responded heart and soul to the solemn appeal.
Mr. Ruthven, it appeared, was at home and would receive Captain Selwyn in his own apartment.
Which he did--after Selwyn had been seated for twenty minutes--strolling in clad only in silken lounging clothes, and belting about his waist, as he entered, the sash of a kimona, stiff with gold.
His greeting was a pallid stare; but, as Selwyn made no motion to rise, he lounged over to a couch and, half reclining among the cus.h.i.+ons, shot an insolent glance at Selwyn, then yawned and examined the bangles on his wrist.
After a moment Selwyn said: "Mr. Ruthven, you are no doubt surprised that I am here--"
"I'm not surprised if it's my wife you've come to see," drawled Ruthven.
"If I'm the object of your visit, I confess to some surprise--as much as the visit is worth, and no more."
The vulgarity of the insult under the man's own roof scarcely moved Selwyn to any deeper contempt, and certainly not to anger.
"I did not come here to ask a favour of you," he said coolly--"for that is out of the question, Mr. Ruthven. But I came to tell you that Mr.
Erroll's family has forbidden him to continue his gambling in this house and in your company anywhere or at any time."
"Most extraordinary," murmured Ruthven, pa.s.sing his ringed fingers over his minutely shaven face--that strange face of a boy hardened by the depravity of ages.
"So I must request you," continued Selwyn, "to refuse him the opportunity of gambling here. Will you do it--voluntarily?"
"No."
"Then I shall use my judgment in the matter."
"And what may your judgment in the matter be?"
"I have not yet decided; for one thing I might enter a complaint with the police that a boy is being morally and materially ruined in your private gambling establishment."
"Is that a threat?"