Man and Maid
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Elinor Glyn >> Man and Maid
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He left after that, promising to see into the affair at once, and
telephone me the result--and when he had gone I tried to think over what
it all means?
Alathea did not know of this when I asked her to marry me last week. She
must never know that I am paying, even if that makes matters easy enough
for her to refuse me. The reason of her long silence is because this
fresh trouble has fallen upon them, I am sure. I feel so awfully, not
being able to comfort her. The whole burden upon those young
shoulders.--
Just as I wrote that yesterday, Burton came in to say that Miss Sharp
was in the little salon, and wished to see me, and I sent him to pray
her to come in. I rose from my chair to bow to her when she entered, she
never shakes hands. I was awfully pained to see the change in her. Her
poor little white face was thin and woebegone and even her lips pale,
and her air was not so proud as usual.
"Won't you sit down," I said with whatever of homage I could put into my
voice.
She was so humbled and miserable, that I knew she would even have taken
off her glasses if I had asked her to, but of course I would not do
that.
She seemed to find it hard to begin. I felt troubled for her and
started.
"I am awfully glad that you have come back."
She locked her hands together, in the shabby, black suede gloves.
"I have come to tell you that if you will give me twenty-five thousand
francs this afternoon, I will accept your offer, and will marry you."
I held out my hand in my infinite joy, but I tried to control all other
exhibition of emotion.
"That is awfully good of you--I can't say how I thank you," I said in a
voice which sounded quite stern. "Of course I will give you anything in
the world you want." And again I reached for my cheque-book and wrote a
cheque for fifty thousand and handed it to her.
She looked at it, and went crimson.
"I do not want all that, twenty-five thousand is enough. That is the
price of the bargain."
I would not let this hurt me.
"Since you have consented to marry me, I have the right to give you what
I please--you may need more than you have suggested, and I want
everything to be smooth and as you would wish."
She trembled all over.
"I--I cannot argue now, I must go at once; but I will think over what I
must say about it."
"If you are going to be my wife, you must know that all that is mine
will be yours; so how can a few thousand francs more or less now make
any difference, though if you have any feeling concerning it, you can
pay me back out of your first month's dress allowance!" and I tried to
smile.
She started to her feet.
"When shall I see you again?" I pleaded.
"In two days."
"When will you marry me?"
"Whenever you arrange."
"Must you go now?"
"Yes--I must--I am grateful for your generosity, I will fulfill my side
of the bargain."
"And I mine."
I tried to rise, and she handed me my crutch, and then went towards the
door, there she turned.
"I will come on Friday at ten o'clock as usual, Good-bye," and she bowed
and left me.
What a remarkable way to become an engaged man!! But only joy filled me
at that moment. I wanted to shout and sing--and thank God!
Alathea will be mine, and surely it will only be a question of time
before I can make her love me, my little girl!
I rang for Burton. I must have rung vigorously for he came in hurriedly.
"Burton," I said, "Congratulate me, my old friend--Miss Sharp has
promised to marry me."
For once Burton's imperturbability deserted him, he almost staggered and
put his hand to his head.
"God bless my soul, Sir Nicholas," he gasped, and then went on, "Beg
pardon, Sir, but that is the best piece of news I ever did hear in my
life."
And his dear old eyes were full of tears while he blew his nose
vigorously.
"It will be a very quiet wedding, Burton. We shall have it at the
Consulate, and I suppose at the church in the _Rue d'Agesseau_, if Miss
Sharp is a Protestant--I have never asked her."
"The wedding don't so much matter, Sir Nicholas. It is having the young
lady always here to look after you."
"Without her glasses, Burton!"
"As you say Sir, without them horn things." And there was a world of
understanding in his faithful eyes.
He left the room presently with the walk of a boy, so elated was he,
and I was left alone, thrilling in every nerve with triumph. How I long
for Friday I cannot possibly say.
In the afternoon Maurice and Alwood Chester, and Madame de Clerte came
to see me, and all exclaimed at my improved appearance.
"Why you look like a million dollars, Nicholas," Alwood said, "What is
up, old bird?"
"I am getting well, that is all."
"We are going to have a party on Sunday to introduce you to the
loveliest young girl in Paris," Solonge announced. "The daughter of a
friend of mine without a great dot, but that does not matter for you,
Nicholas. We think that you should marry and marry a _jeune fille
francaise_!"
"That is sweet of you. I have shown how I appreciate young girls, have
not I?"
"For that--no!" she laughed, "But the time has come--."
I felt amused, what will Alathea think of these, my friends? Solonge is
the best of them.
Maurice had an air of anxiety underneath his watchful friendliness. He's
fine enough to _feel_ atmospheres, or whatever it is that comes from
people, not in words. He felt that some great change had taken place in
me, and he was not sure what aspect it would have in regard to himself.
He came back after he had seen Madame de Clerte to her coupe!--She has
essence also now,--and his rather ridiculous, kindly, effeminate,
little dark face was appealing.
"_Eh bien, mon ami?_" he said.
"_Eh bien?_"
"There is something, Nicholas, what? Was the clue of any use to you?"
"Yes, thank you a thousand times, Maurice, I could trace the whole
thing. Miss Sharp comes of a very distinguished family, which I know all
about. Her uncle is a miserable Earl! That is respectable enough,
especially a tenth Earl! And her maternal grandfather was a 'Marquess.'"
"_Vrai, mon vieux?_"
"Quite true!"
Maurice was duly interested.
"You were right then about the breeding, it always does show."
I had difficulty in not telling him my news, but I thought it wiser to
remain silent until after Friday! Friday! Day of days!
Maurice suspected that there was something beyond in all this, and was
not sure which course would be the best to pursue; one of sympathy or
unconsciousness. He decided upon the latter and presently left me.
Then I telephoned to Cartier to hare some rings sent up to look at. I
have a feeling that I must be very discreet about giving Alathea
presents, or she will be resentful and even suspect that my bargain is
not entirely a business one. I am afraid I seemed a little too pleased
at our interview; I must be indifferently aloof on Friday.
I suppose I had better not give her my mother's pearls until after the
ceremony. I wonder if there will be a fuss when I suggest her going to
the _Rue de la Paix_ for clothes? I apprehend that there will be a
stubborn resistance to almost everything I would wish to do.
How will the Duchesse take it! Probably philosophically, once it is an
accomplished fact.
At that moment Burton brought me in a note from that very lady! I opened
it eagerly, and its contents made me smile.
The Duchesse wrote to remind me of a request I once made her, that if a
certain family were in trouble that I would assist them to any amount.
Twenty-five thousand francs were now absolutely necessary on the moment,
if I could send them to her by bearer, I would know that I was doing a
good deed!
For the third time that day I reached for my cheque-book and wrote a
cheque, but for only the sum asked on this occasion, and then when
Burton had brought me note paper, I sent a little word with it, to the
Duchesse, and when I was alone again I laughed aloud.
Three people determined upon it must surely save the scapegrace!--I
wonder which of the three will get there first!
I would not go out anywhere to dinner, I wanted to be alone to think
over the whole strange turn of fate. Do strong desires influence events?
Or are all these things settled beforehand? Or is there something in
reincarnation, which Alathea believes in, and the actions of one life
cause that which looks like fate in the next? We shall have many talks
on this subject, I hope.
I wonder, how long it will take for my little love to come voluntarily
into my arms?----?
XIX
_Saturday_:
I wonder how long I shall go on writing in this Journal? I suppose once
I should be happy it would not be necessary; well the moment has not yet
come, in in spite of my being the _fiance_ of the woman I desire.
At ten o'clock I was waiting for her in the sitting-room, and I was
thinking of that other time when I waited in anxiety, in case she did
not return at all. I was very excited, but it was more the exhilaration
I used to feel when we were going to have some stunning marauding
expeditions over No-Man's Land. The old zest was in my veins.
I heard Alathea's ring, and after she had taken off her hat she came
into the room. I believed that her anxieties must be assuaged because
George Harcourt had telephoned late on Thursday night to say that he had
been successful, and that he had four thousand francs to hand back to
me, the affair having been concluded for twenty-six thousand. So what
was my surprise to see Alathea's face below her glasses more woebegone
than ever! At first it gave me a stab of pain. Does she really hate me
so? She did not mention the money, so I wonder if it is that she does
not yet know her father is cleared? I bowed as coldly as I used always
to do, and she asked me if I had a chapter ready for her to type? I
answered that I had not, because I had been too busy with other things
to have composed anything.
"I think we had better discuss the necessary arrangements for our
marriage before we can settle down to our old work," I said.
"Very well."
"I shall have to have your full name and your father's and mother's and
all that, you know, to make it legal. My lawyer will attend to all the
formalities--they are quite considerable, I believe. He arrives from
London on Monday. I got him a passport by pulling a lot of strings."
She actually trembled. It seemed as if the idea of all this had not come
to her, some of the value of her sacrifice would be diminished if the
family skeleton should be laid bare, I could see she felt, so I
reassured her.
"Believe me, I do not wish you to tell me anything about your family. As
long as you can give just sufficient facts to satisfy the law, I have no
curiosity to see them unless I can be of use."
"Thank you."
"I think a fortnight is the quickest that everything can be settled
in.--Will you marry me on the seventh of November, Miss Sharp?"
"Yes."
"Do you care for the church ceremony, or will the one at the Consulate
do?"
"I should think that would be quite enough for us."
The ring cases were all lying upon the table by me--I pointed to them.
"I wonder if you would choose an engagement ring?" and I began opening
the lids. "It is customary, you know," I went on as she started
reluctantly. I intended to be firm with her in all the points where I
had rights.
"Don't you think it is a little ridiculous?" she asked. "A ring for a
mere business arrangement?"
I would not allow myself to be hurt, but I was conscious that I felt a
little angry.
"You would prefer not to choose a ring then? Very well, I will decide
for you," and I took up one really magnificent single stone diamond, set
as only Cartier can set stones.
"This is the last thing in modernity," and I handed it to her. "A hard
white diamond of egregious size, it cannot fail to be a reminder of our
hard business bargain, and I shall ask you to be good enough to wear
it."
I suppose she saw that I was not pleased, for she drew in her lips a
little, but she took the ring.
Her hands seemed very restless as she held it, they were certainly not
nearly so red as they formerly were.
"Am I to put it on now?"
"Please."
She did so, only she put it on her right third finger, her cheeks
growing pink.
"Why do you do that?" I asked.
"What?"
"Put the ring on the wrong hand."
She changed it reluctantly, then she burst out:
"I suppose I ought to thank you for such a very splendid gift, but I
can't, because I would much rather not have it, please do let us keep to
business in every way, and please don't give me any more presents. I am
going to be just your secretary, with my wages commuted into some lump
sum, I suppose."
I felt more angry, and I think she saw it. I remained silent, which
forced her to speak.
"Do you intend that I shall live here, in the flat?"
"Of course. Will you please choose which of the two guest rooms you
would prefer, they both have bathrooms, and you will have the decoration
re-done as you wish."
Silence.
My exasperation augmented.
"Will you also please engage a maid, and go and order every sort of
clothes which you ought to have. I know by the way you were dressed when
I saw you in the _Bois_ that Sunday, that your taste is perfect."
She stiffened as I spoke. It was quite plain to be seen that she loathed
taking anything from me, but I had no intention of ceding a single point
where I had the right to impose my will.
"You see you will be known as my wife, therefore you must dress
according to the position, and have everything my mother used to have.
Otherwise, people would not respect you, and only think that you were
invidiously placed."
Her cheeks flamed again at the last words.
"It is difficult to picture it all," she said; "Tell me exactly what you
expect of me daily."
"I expect that when you have breakfasted, in your room if you wish, that
you will come and talk to me, perhaps do a little writing, or go out to
drive, or what you wish, and that we shall lunch, and in the afternoon
do whatever turns up. You will want to go out and see your friends and
do what you please. And perhaps you will play to me as often as you feel
inclined, and after dinner we can go to the theatre, or read, or do
whatever you like. And as soon as my treatments with these doctors are
concluded, and I have my new leg and eye, and we shall hope war is
finished, we can travel, or go back to England, and then I shall begin
taking up a political career, and I shall hope you will take a real
interest in that and help me as though I were your brother."
"Very well."
"You will order the clothes to-day?"
"Yes."
She was subdued now, the programme was not very formidable, except that
it contained daily companionship with me.
"Have you told the Duchesse de Courville-Hautevine yet that we are
engaged?" I asked after a moment's pause.
Discomfort grew in her manner.
"No."
"Do you think that she will not approve of the marriage?"
"She may not."
"Perhaps you would rather that I told her?"
"As you please."
"I want you to understand something quite clearly, Alathea." She started
when I said her name, "and that is that I expect you to treat me with
confidence, and tell me anything which you think that I ought to know,
so that we neither of us can be put in a false position, beyond that,
believe me, I have no curiosity. I desire a companionship of brain, and
a sort of permanent secretary who does not feel hostile all the time,
that is all."
I could see that she was controlling herself with all her will, and that
she was overwrought and intensely troubled. I knew that some barrier was
between us which I could not at present surmount. All she said after a
minute was:
"How did you know that my name was 'Alathea'?"
"I heard your little sister call you that the day I saw you in the
_Bois_. I think it a very beautiful name."
Silence.
Her discomfort seemed to come to a climax, for after a little she spoke.
"The twenty-five thousand francs beyond the twenty-five I asked you for,
I cannot return to you. I feel very much about it, and that you should
pay for my clothes, and give me presents. It is the hardest thing I ever
had to do in my life,--to take all this."
"Do not let it bother you, I am quite content with the bargain. Perhaps
you would rather go now after we have selected which room you will
have."
"Thank you."
She gave me my crutch, and I led the way and she followed. I knew
instinctively that she would choose the room which was furthest from
mine. She did!
"This will do," she said immediately we entered it.
"The look-out is not so nice, it only gets the early morning sun," I
ventured to remark.
"It is quieter."
"Very well."
"It was rather arranged for a man, and is perhaps severe. Do you wish
anything changed?"
She did not appear to take any more interest in it than if it had been a
hotel room. She had given it the merest glance, although it is quite a
little masterpiece in its way, of William and Mary--even the panelling
being English, and of the time, and the old rose silk window and bed
curtains.
"I don't want anything altered, thank you."
It seemed a strange moment, to be talking thus calmly to the woman who,
in a fortnight, will be my wife. I feel that a volcano is really working
under our feet, and that adds to the excitement!
When we got back to the sitting-room I offered to send the carriage for
her to go and do her shopping, but she refused, and I thought it was
wiser to let her go. We shall have years to talk in presently, and there
is always the danger of our coming to an open rupture, and the bargain
being off, if we see much of one another now.
"Good-bye," she said a little nervously, and I bowed and said
"Good-bye," and she went from the room.
And when she had gone I laughed aloud, and began to analyse the
situation.
George Harcourt has paid the gambling debt, therefore the fifty thousand
I gave Alathea cannot have been used for that. Some fresh worry is
perhaps upon the wretched family. The obvious thing for me to do is to
go and see the Duchesse, and yet I have some strange sort of wish that
it should be Alathea herself who tells me everything, and not that she
becomes aware, by inference, that I must know. I feel that our future
happiness depends upon her giving up all this stubborn pride. What is at
the back of her mind? I do not know. That resentment and dislike of me
has only become crystallized since the Suzette affair. I am sure she
thinks that Suzette is my mistress still, and this insults her, but she
reasons that with the bargain as it is, she has not the smallest right
to object. She is furious with herself to think that it should matter to
her. That is a thought! Why indeed should it matter if she is utterly
indifferent to me? Is it possible? Can it be that? No--I dare not think
of it, but, in any case it will be the most thrilling situation, once
she is my wife.
I believe it would be wisest for me not to go to the Duchesse's but
simply to write her a note telling her of my news, then anything she
may tell me will be gratuitous.
I had just finished doing this when once again a letter was brought in
from that lady, and this time it was to thank me for my cheque, and to
tell me that it had been the means of preventing a most disagreeable
scandal and bringing peace to a family!
Sardonic mirth overcame me. So three separate people seem to be under
the impression that they have paid this gambler's debts! Each apparently
unaware that there was anyone else in the running! It looks as if
"Bobby" had wolfed the lot! Does Alathea know, and is this the extra
cause of her worry?
I sent my note back by the Duchesse's messenger, who still waited, and
went to my luncheon.
In about an hour the telephone rang--a request from the Hotel de
Courville that I should repair there immediately without fail.
"Her Grace spoke herself," Burton said, "and said it was most important,
Sir Nicholas."
"Very well, order the carriage. By the way. Burton, did you congratulate
Miss Sharp?"
Burton coughed.
"I did make so bold, Sir Nicholas, as to tell the young lady how very
glad I was, but she took it queer like, she stiffened up and said it was
only a business arrangement, to be able to write your letters and do
your work without people talking about it. That seemed funny to me, so I
said nothing more."
"Burton it is funny for the moment, Miss Sharp is only marrying me for
some reason for her family, the same one which forces her to work, but I
hope I can make her think differently about it some day."
"Pardon the liberty I am taking, Sir Nicholas, but perhaps she don't
like the idea of Mam'zelle, and don't know she's gone for good."
"That is probably the case."
Burton's wise old face expressed complete understanding, as he left the
room, and presently I was on my way to the Hotel de Courville, a sense
of exhilaration and of excitement and joy in my heart!
XX
The Duchesse was playing impatiently with her glasses when I was
announced by the servant of ninety! Her face expressed some strong
feeling. I was not sure if it was tinged with displeasure or no. She
helped me to sit down, and then she began at once.
"Nicholas, explain yourself. You tell me you are engaged to your
secretary! So this has been going on all the time, and you have not told
me. I, who was your mother's oldest friend!"
"Dear Duchesse, you are mistaken, it has only just been settled. No one
was more surprised at my offer than Miss Sharp herself."
"You know her real name, Nicholas? And her family history? You have
guessed, of course, from my asking you for the twenty-five thousand
francs, that they were in some difficulty?"
"Yes, I know Alathea is the daughter of the Honorable Robert and Lady
Hilda Bulteel."
"She has told you all of the story, perhaps?--but you cannot know what
the money was for, because the poor child does not know it herself. It
is more just that I should inform you, since you are going to marry into
the family."
"Thank you, Duchesse."
She then began, and gave me a picture of her old friendship with Lady
Hilda, and of the dreadful calamity which had befallen in her going off
with Bobby Bulteel.
"It was one of those cases of mad love, Nicholas, which fortunately seem
to have died out of the modern world, though for the truth I must say
that one more _seduisant_ than _ce joli Bulteel_, I have never met! One
could not, of course, acknowledge them for a crime like that, but I have
ever been fond of poor Hilda and that sweet little child. She was born
here, in this hotel. Poor Hilda came to me in her great trouble, and I
was in deep mourning myself then for my husband,--the house is large,
and it could all pass quietly."
I reached forward and took the Duchesse's hand and kissed it, and she
went on:
"Alathee is my godchild, one of my names is Alathee. The poor little
one, she adored her father, in all those first years. They wandered much
and only came to Paris at intervals, and each time they came, a little
poorer, a little more troubled, and then after a lapse I heard those two
were born at Nice--wretched little decadents, when my poor Hilda was a
mass of nerves and disillusion. Alathee was eleven then. It was, _par
hazard_, when she was about fourteen that she heard of her father's
crime. She was the gayest, most sweet child before that, through all
their poverty, but from that moment her character was changed. It
destroyed something in her spirit, one must believe. She set firmly to
education, decided she would be a secretary, cultivated herself, worked,
worked, worked! She worshipped her mother, and resented immensely her
father's treatment of her."
"She must always have had a wonderful character."
"For that, yes," and the Duchesse paused a moment, then went on:
"Quite a tremendous character, and as Bobby sank and poor Hilda became
more ill, and wretched, that child has risen in strength, and supported
them all. Since the war came they have almost lived upon her earnings.
The father is without conscience, and of a selfishness unspeakable! His
money all went to him for his use, and Alathee was left to supplement
the mother's wretched two or three thousand francs a year. And now that
brute has again cheated at cards, and poor Hilda came to me in her great
distress, and remembering your words, Nicholas, I called upon you. It
would have been too cruel for the poor woman to have had to suffer
again. Hilda took the money and gave it to this infamous husband, and
the affair was settled that night. Alathee knows nothing about it."
Light was dawning upon me. The admirable Bobby has evidently played upon
the feelings of both wife and daughter!
"Duchesse, why did you not wish me to know the real name, and would not
help me at all about 'Miss Sharp,'--won't you now tell me your reason?"
The Duchesse shaded her eyes from the fire with a hand-screen, and it
came between us, and I could not see her face, but her voice changed.
"I was greatly surprised to find the girl in your flat one day. I had
not understood with whom she was working. I was not pleased about it,
frankly, Nicholas, because one cannot help knowing of your existence and
your friends, and I feared your interest for a secretary might be as for
them, and I disliked that my godchild should run such a risk. When
_jeunes filles_ of the world have to take up menial positions they are
of course open to such situations, and have to expect difficulties. I
wished to protect her as well as I could."
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