Oh, why didn"t I try to do this?
Why, why didn"t I do it before it was too late?
As the two neighbouring supper parties amalgamated into one the fun seemed to get even more fast and furious.
It was deafeningly noisy now. And still the noise was rising as more guests came in. People flung themselves about in their chairs; the dancing became, if anything, more of a romp than before.
I had a glimpse of the eyegla.s.sed, young Lord Fourcastles stretching over the table to grab some pink flowers out of a silver bowl. He began sticking them in Miss Million"s hair; I saw her toss her little dark head back, giggling wildly; I could imagine the shrill "Ows" and "Give overs" that were coming out of her pink "O" of a mouth.
Then I saw Mr. Burke spring up from his chair again, and put his arm round Miss Vi Va.s.sity"s waist, dragging "London"s Love" round the tables in a mad prance that I suppose was intended for a one-step, she laughing so much that she could neither dance nor stand still, and giving a generous display of high-heeled, gilt cothurne and of old-gold silk stocking as she was steered and whirled along.
"Stand away from the door, there, Miss. Stand away, please," said one of the hurrying waiters. And I stood away, followed by my grave-faced escort, Mr. Brace. We retired further down the vestibule, among the little knot of attendants and of waiting chauffeurs.
"Have you seen enough of it, Miss Lovelace?" asked Mr. Brace.
"I think so," I said. I was feeling suddenly rather tired, bored by the noise, dazzled by the blaze of pink lights and the whirl of colour. "I don"t think I"ll wait for Miss Million after all. I"ll go home." I meant to think over the talking-to that I should give Million when she returned.
"I"ll get you a taxi," began Mr. Brace. But I stopped him.
"I don"t want a taxi, thanks----"
"Please. I want to see you home."
"Oh! But I don"t want you to," I said hastily. "I"ll get the "bus. It"s such a short way. Good-night."
But he wouldn"t say "Good-night." He insisted on boarding the "bus with me, and plumping himself down on the front seat beside me, under the fine drizzle that was still coming down.
Certainly it was only a short "bus ride to the Strand, but a good deal happened in it. In fact, that happened which is supposed to mark an unforgettable epoch in a girl"s life--her first proposal of marriage.
CHAPTER XVIII
MY FIRST PROPOSAL
WE were alone on the top of the "bus.
Mr. Brace turned to me, settling the oil-cloth "bus ap.r.o.n over my knees as if I were a very small and helpless child that must be taken great care of.
Then he said: "You didn"t like it, did you? All that?" with a jerk of his head towards the side street from which the "bus was lurching away.
I said: "Well! I don"t think there seemed to be any real harm in that sort of frivolling. It"s very expensive, though, I suppose----"
"Very," said Mr. Brace grimly.
"But, of course, Miss Million has plenty of money to waste. Still, it"s rather silly--a lot of grown-up people behaving like that----"
Here I had another mental glimpse of Mr. Burke"s reckless, merry, well-bred face, bending over Miss Vi Va.s.sity"s common, good-humoured one, with its shrewd, black eyes, its characteristic flash of prominent white teeth; I saw his tall, supple figure whirling round her rather squat, overdressed little shape in that one-step.
""Larking" about with all sorts of people they wouldn"t otherwise meet, I suppose, and shrieking and "ragging" like a lot of costers on Hampstead Heath. Yes. Really it was rather like a very much more expensive Bank Holiday crowd. It was only another way of dancing to organs in the street, and of flourishing "tiddlers," and of shrieking in swing-boats, and of changing hats. Only all that seems to "go" with costers. And it doesn"t with these people," I said, thinking of Mr.
Burke"s clean-limbed, public-school, hunting-field look.
"I shall tell Mill--Miss Million that. And she won"t like it," I chattered on, as Mr. Brace didn"t seem to be going to say anything more.
"I really think she"s better away from those places, perhaps, after all.
"Late hours won"t suit her, I know. Why, she"s never been out of bed after half-past ten before in her whole life. And she"s never tasted those weird things they were having for supper; hot dressed crab and pastry with mushrooms inside it! As for champagne--well, I expect she"ll have a horrid headache to-morrow. I shall have to give her breakfast in bed and look after her like a moth----"
"Miss Lovelace! You must do nothing of the sort. That sort of thing must stop," the young man at my side blurted out. "You oughtn"t to be doing that. It"s too preposterous----"
This was the second time to-day I"d heard that word applied to my working as Miss Million"s maid. The first time the Honourable Jim Burke had said it. Now here was a young man who disagreed with the Honourable Jim on every other point, apparently working himself up into angry excitement over this.
"That you--you--should be Miss Million"s maid. Good heavens! It"s unthinkable!"
"I suppose you mean," I said rather maliciously, "that you couldn"t think of that sister of yours doing anything of the kind."
He didn"t seem to hear me. He said quite violently: "You must give it up. You must give it up at once."
I laughed a little. I said: "Give up a good, well-paid and amusing situation? Why? And what could I do instead? Go back to my aunt, I suppose----"
"No," broke in the young bank manager, still quite violently, "come to me, couldn"t you?"
I was so utterly taken aback that I hadn"t a word to reply. I thought I must have misunderstood what he said.
There was a moment of jolting silence.
Then, in a tone of voice that seemed as if it had been jerked out of him, sentence by sentence, with the rolling of the "bus, Mr. Brace went on:
"Miss Lovelace! I don"t know whether you knew it, but--I have always--if you only knew the enormous admiration, the reverence, that I have always had for you--I ought not to have said it so soon, I suppose. I meant not to have said it for some time yet. But if you could possibly--there is nothing that I would not do to try to make you happy, if you would consent to become my wife."
"Oh, good heavens!" I exclaimed, absolutely dazed.
"I know," said young Mr. Brace rather hoa.r.s.ely, "that it is fearful presumption on my part. I know I haven"t got anything much to offer a girl like you."
"Oh," I said, coming out of my first shock of surprise, "oh, but I"m sure you have." I felt quite a lump in my throat. I was so touched at the young man"s modesty. I said again: "Oh, but I"m sure you have, Mr.
Brace. Heaps!"
And I looked at his face in the light of the street lamp past which the "bus was swinging. That radiance and the haze of lamp-lit raindrops made a sort of "glory" about him. He has a nice face, one can"t deny it. A fair, frank, straight, conscientious, young face. So typically the best type of honourable, reliable, average young Englishman. Such a contrast to the wary, subtle, dare-devil Celtic face, with the laughing, mocking eyes of Mr. Jim Burke, for example.
The next thing I knew was that Mr. Brace had got hold of my hand and was holding it most uncomfortably tight.
"Then, could you?" he said in that strained voice. "Do you mean you could make me so tremendously proud and happy?"
"Oh, no! I"m afraid not," I said hastily. "I couldn"t!"
"Oh, don"t say that," he put in anxiously. "Miss Lovelace! If you only knew! I am devoted to you. n.o.body could be more so. If you could only try to care for me. Of course, I see this must seem very abrupt."
"Oh, not at all," I put in hastily again. I did hate not to seem kind and nice to him, after he"d said he was devoted, even though it did sound--well--do I mean "stilted"? The next thing he said was also rather stilted and embarra.s.sing.