I am only an ordinary sort of girl. I"m not one quarter as pretty, or as nice, or as sweet-tempered, or as affectionate, or as domesticated, or as good with my needle, or as likely to make a good wife as thousands of other girls who would be only too glad to have him!
Yet it"s me he chooses. It"s me he loves. It"s me he called "The One Girl in the World for Him."
That may be a little obvious, but, oh, how wonderful! Even if a girl didn"t want to say "Yes" the first minute she was asked, she simply couldn"t help feeling pleased and flattered and uplifted to the seventh heaven by the mere fact that he"d proposed.
Some girls never get a proposal at all. I"m really fearfully lucky to have him look at me!
That"s the first time, my dears.
As for the second time--well! I can only go by my own feelings with regard to Mr. Reginald Brace.
And these are: Well! He must like me dreadfully much to have proposed to me so soon again. He must adore me! I suppose I must be rather nice to look at, since he thinks I am "beautiful."
It"s very nice and kind of him to want to marry me at once; very gratifying. But why does he want to take me away from the society of a whole lot of amusing friends, because he thinks they are "not good enough" for me?
Is he so much better? Is he? He may have a less c.o.c.kney voice, and a less flamboyant style of good looks than Miss Vi Va.s.sity and her theatrical friends.
But he can"t have a kinder heart. n.o.body could. And he hasn"t any quicker wits--that I"ve seen for myself.
It was magnificent of him to come to the court and to go bail for Miss Million and me directly he heard that we were suspected of robbery.
But, still----He must have known that we were innocent. Miss Million is a client of his, and he knows all about my people. I think a good deal of him for sticking to us. But I should have despised him if he hadn"t.
I like him. But, after all, when a girl says she"ll marry a man, she means, or ought to mean, that he appeals to her more than any man she"s ever met in her life.
It means she"s sure she never will meet a man she could like more. It means he"s the type of looks she likes, the kind of voice she loves to listen to, all the mental and physical qualities that call, softly, to something in her, saying:
"Here! Come to me. Come! It may be to settle down for life in a tiny suburban villa with one bed of calceolarias in the back garden and the kitchen range continually out of sorts. It may be to a life of following the drum from one outpost of the Empire to another. It may be to a country rectory, or to a ranch in Canada--"
I don"t know what put the idea of a Canadian ranch into my head. But lots of people do marry into them.
"--or to a house in Park Lane, or to a bungalow in India. But wherever it is, wherever I am, that"s home! Come!"
At least, ought one to feel like that, or oughtn"t one? I don"t know.
Life and love are very complicated and confusing matters--especially love.
I told Mr. Brace so. This was just as we were rising from the luncheon-table. I said hurriedly: "I can"t answer you. I really must have more time to think it over."
His fair Puritan"s face fell at this, and he looked at me reproachfully.
"More time?" he said discontentedly. "More time still?"
"Yes. I--I"m sure it"s most important," I said earnestly. "Everybody ought to have lots and lots of time to think it over before they dream of getting engaged. I"m sure that"s the right thing."
And then our party broke up, for Miss Vi Va.s.sity was going on to a theatrical garden fete to sell boxes of nougat with a signed photograph of herself on the lid, and Mr. Hiram P. Jessop wanted to take his cousin out into the park for a long talk about his aerial bomb-dropper, he said, and Mr. Brace had to get back to the bank.
Miss Million said I could go out for a breath of air if I wanted, but I had to return to Miss Million"s rooms upstairs and to set things a little bit in order there, as well as packing up for our next flight to the "Refuge."
Perhaps the Honourable Jim may call and tell me how he got on with my Aunt Anastasia?
No! There has been no sign of him all the afternoon. It has gone quietly and slowly. My talkative friend, the telephone girl, threw me a smile and a glance only a little sharper than usual as I crossed the hall. The hurrying page-boys in brown, the porters look just the same as usual; the coming and going of the American visitors is the same.
Life here in the big hotel seems resumed for me exactly where it was broken off the day that Miss Million"s disappearance coincided with the disappearance of the celebrated Rattenheimer ruby. Ugh!... Except for my ineffaceable memories of last night and this morning in the police-court there"s nothing to remind me that my mistress and I are still in that horrible and extraordinary situation, "out on bail."
CHAPTER x.x.xI
MILLION BUCKS UP
MISS MILLION has returned, her troubles for the moment forgotten; her small face rosy from the sunshine and the outdoor air; also as radiant as if no a.s.sizes loomed before us in a few weeks" time.
"You"ll be glad to hear, Smith, that I"ve settled what to do about all that fuss and botheration about the money," she told me as I knelt beside her on the carpet, unfastening her grey suede shoes. "Me and my cousin have fixed that up."
"Have you?" I said, delightedly glancing up at her, and pausing with one of her small but dumpy feet in my hand. "Have you really settled it with Mr. Jessop? Oh, I am so glad! I hope," here I gave an affectionate little squeeze to that grey, silk-sheathed foot, "I do hope you"ll be very happy."
"Well, he will, that"s pretty certain," said Miss Million in her most matter-of-fact tone of voice; "but whether I will is another matter.
"All depends upon whether this here bomb-dropper turns out a good investment or a wild-goose chase. "Twouldn"t surprise me a bit if it did that. Still! He"s been talking to me again about it this afternoon, explaining it all while we sat on two green wooden chairs under the trees on the gra.s.s, as grave as two judges. And I"m taking the chance."
"I think you"re so right!" I said enthusiastically. "I"m quite sure he"s exactly the sort of husband for you----"
"Husbands?" echoed Miss Million, and gazed at me stonily. "Who"s talking of husbands?"
"Why----Aren"t you?" I exclaimed, utterly taken aback. "Don"t you mean----When you said you"d fixed it up with Mr. Jessop didn"t you mean you"d said you"d marry him?"
"Ow! Now!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Million in her c.o.c.kniest voice, vigorously shaking her little dark head. "Marry him? Not much! When I said I"d fixed it up I meant I was going to "come in" with the money to float this here invention of his. No going to Lawr at all. I shall just pay him over so much.
"We"ll get old Mr. Chesterton to arrange about that, and let him do the best he can. We"re goin" shares, and we"re going to share profits in what he makes over the thing--if anything. He seems to me just like a boy we sor in Kensington Gardens when we was out; a boy with a model yacht, mad with joy over the machinery of it, and the what-not!
"That"s just like my cousin Hiram. Men are kids!" added Miss Million with a profound smile.
I looked at her with surprise as I fetched her little indoor slippers.
"And you"re giving him the money to play with this yacht of his?"
"Yes. He talked me round to that," said my mistress. "But talk me round into marrying him into the bargain was a thing he couldn"t do."
"Why not?" I ventured. "You like him. He"s nice----"
"Yes. But marriage! Not for me," said Miss Million, again shaking her dark head. "I"ve been thinking it well out, and that"s what I"ve come to. I"m better single. I"ve plenty of money, even after I"ve paid Hiram all he wants for the blessed machine--sounds like a sewing machine on the hire system, don"t it?
"As I am, I"m my own mistress," said our little ex-maid-servant exultantly. "Go where I like, do what I like----"
"Except for being arrested and put into prison," I put in ruefully.
"Ow! That about the old ruby. Hiram"ll fix that yet, see if he don"t,"
said Miss Million, in tones of pride--family pride, I suppose.