"Oh, till Tuesday or Wednesday, I suppose. Perhaps Tom would come back with us here after that."
Victor got up and moved round the table, till he stood by his wife"s chair.
"No, I don"t think he will," he said. "Fact is, Jeannie, I asked him to come here a week or two ago, and he wrote me an awfully nice letter back, but said he thought he wouldn"t. I didn"t tell you before, for there was no use in it. But after that I don"t think I should ask him if I were you."
Jeannie was silent a moment.
"But he wants to see me now," she said.
"I know. But I don"t think he wants to be with us alone. You understand that, I expect."
Jeannie sighed.
"Poor Tom!" she said. "Yet I don"t know why I say "poor." I think he likes life."
"I don"t think he loves it as you and I do."
Jeannie"s eyes suddenly filled with tears.
"I am awfully sorry for that," she said. "Sometimes I feel frightfully guilty, and then suddenly on the top of that I feel innocent. Oh, to be plain, I feel more than innocent. I feel dreadfully laudable. And then, to do me justice, I put up a little prayer that I may not become a prig or a donkey."
He laughed.
"Please, don"t," he said. "I should not know you. But you made a man of him."
"Ah, yes; he has told you that. It is not the case. He made a man of himself."
Victor held up his hand.
"I don"t want to know what happened," he said. "I am quite content to leave it. He became a man, and you were always my beloved."
Some backward surge of memory stirred in Jeannie.
"Quite always?" she said. "You never wanted to ask me about it?"
"No, dear, never," he said. "Not because I was complacent or anything of that kind, but simply because we loved each other."
This, then, was the foundation of Lady Nottingham"s Easter party.
Jeannie and her husband would come, and so, as a corollary, Lord Lindfield would come. Then there would be the newly-engaged couple, namely, Daisy and Willie Carton. Either of them would go, as steel filings go to the magnet, wherever the other was, and without the least sense of compunction Lady Nottingham told each of them separately that the other was coming to her. She had been rather late in doing this, and, as a matter of fact, Willie, no longer hoping for it, had made another engagement. But he did not even frown or consider that. He wrote a cheerful, scarcely apologetic note to Mrs. Beaumont, merely saying he found he could not come. Nature and art alike--and Mrs. Beaumont was a subtle compound of the two--allow much lat.i.tude to lovers, and she did not scold him.
At this stage in her proceedings Lady Nottingham suddenly abandoned the idea of a party at all. There was Victor and Jeannie, and their corollary, Tom Lindfield; there was Daisy and her corollary, Willie; there was herself. Gladys would be there too, and--and it was necessary to provide light conversation in case everybody was too much taken up with everybody else, and Jim Crowfoot would, no doubt, supply it. A very short telephonic pause was succeeded by the a.s.surance that he would.
CHAPTER XXVII.
Two days before this little gathering of friends was to a.s.semble Jeannie left Itchen Abbas for town. Victor did not go with her, for the unpunctual May-fly was already on the river, and, since subsequent days had to be abandoned, he preferred to use these. He thought it (and said so) very selfish of Jeannie to go, since who cared what gowns she wore?
But it seemed that Jeannie thought this nonsense, and went. Also a tooth, though it did not ache, said that it thought it might, and she arranged an appointment in Old Burlington Street for Sat.u.r.day afternoon.
She would meet Victor down at Bray.
The tooth proved a false alarm. It was tapped and probed and mirrored, and she was a.s.sured that she need feel no anxiety. So in the elation of a visit to the dentist over, she emerged into the street. There was a willing but unable motor there that puffed and snorted, and did not do anything. And immediately she heard a familiar voice.
"Why, Jeannie," it said, "what confounded and stupendous luck! Never thought to meet you here. Going to Bray, aren"t you? And so am I.
Old Puffing Billy is having his fit here this time. Or do you think he"ll have another on the road? I"ll go down by train with you, or I"ll take you down in Puffing Billy. But we"ll go together. By Jove, you look ripping!"
Jeannie gave him both her hands.
"Oh, Tom," she said, "what fun! Let"s go down in Puffing Billy. I"ve been to the dentist, and there isn"t anything."
Puffing Billy gave out a volume of blue smoke.
"Good old chap," said Tom sympathetically. "Hope he"ll stick again on the level.--Is it all right for the present, Stanton?--Get in, Jeannie.
Never saw such luck! Who would expect Puffing Billy to break down opposite a dentist"s, when you needn"t have gone there at all. Jove! it is good to see you."
The incredible happened. Once again the car broke down on the level, and once again Stanton had to go upon his belly, like the snake, while his pa.s.sengers sat on a rug by the wayside.
"We shall be late again," said Tom. "Do you know, it is nearly six months since I saw you last?"
Jeannie remembered the invitation he had received and refused.
"That"s your fault," she said.
"I know. Your man asked me. Awfully good of him."
"Why didn"t you come, then?"
The inimitable Stanton ceased to be a snake, and, becoming erect, touched his cap.
"Car"s all right, my lord," he said.
"Oh, is it? Get in, then.--I didn"t know if you wanted me to come, Jeannie. I"m not sure if I wanted to either. But I expect the two are one. It"s funny, isn"t it? Try me again."
"Well, come back with Victor and me after Bray," she said.
"Rather. It"s Bray first, though. We shan"t be late for dinner after all. What a bore; I like being uniform and consistent. Look here, do promise me a morning or an afternoon or something down there. Just half a day alone with you."
She got into the car, he following.
"Yes, you dear," she said. "Of course you shall have it. A whole day if you like, morning and afternoon."
"Jove! I"m on in that piece. Sure you won"t be bored?"
"I"ll try not."
"H"m. You think it will need an effort."