Maggie had a week.
She did not need it. From the first half-hour after Martin"s leaving her her mind was made up. This question of marriage did not, on further reflection, very greatly disturb her. She had known, in her time, a number of married people and they had been invariably unhappy and quarrelsome. The point seemed to be that you should be, in some way, near the person whom you loved, and she had only loved one person in all her life, and intended never to love another. Even this question of love was not nearly so tangled for her as it would be for any more civilised person. She knew very little about marriage and only in the most sordid fashion about s.e.xual relations which were definitely connected in her mind with drunken peasants and her father"s cook. They had nothing at all to do with Martin.
The opinion of the world was an unknown factor in her vision, she only knew of the opinion of her aunts and Miss Warlock and with these she was already in rebellion.
She would have been in great trouble had she supposed that this woman still loved Martin and needed him, but that, from what Martin had said, was obviously not so. No, it was all quite clear. They would escape together, out of this tangle of unnatural mysteries and warnings, and live happily for ever after in the country.
As to Martin"s self-portrait, that did not greatly distress her. She had never supposed that he or any one else was "good." She had never known a "good" person. Nor did it occur to her, in her pristine state of savagery, that you loved any one the less for their drawbacks. She would rather be with Martin at his worst than with any one else at their best--that was all.
Half-an-hour was enough time to settle the whole affair. She then waited patiently until the end of the week. She did not quite know how she would arrange a meeting, but that would, she expected, arrange itself.
Two events occurred that filled her mind and made the week pa.s.s quickly. One was that she received an answer to her adventurous letter, the other was a remarkable conversation with Miss Caroline Smith. The answer to her letter was lying on her plate when she came down to breakfast, and Aunt Elizabeth was watching it with an excited stare.
It read as follows:
14 BRYANSTON SQUARE.
Dear Miss CARDINAL,
Of course I remember you perfectly. I wondered whether you would write to me one day. I am married now and live most of the year in London.
Would you come and see me at Bryanston Square? I am nearly always at home at tea-time. If you are free would you perhaps come next Friday?
It will be so nice to see you again.
Yours sincerely,
KATHERINE MARK. "You"ve got a letter, dear. Your aunt isn"t quite so well this morning, I"m afraid. Scrambled eggs."
"Yes," she looked her aunt in the face without any confusion. How strangely her decision about Martin had altered her relationship now to every one! What did it matter whether any one were angry? "I ought to have told you, Aunt Elizabeth. I wrote about a fortnight ago to a lady who came once to see us at home. She was a Miss Trenchard then. She said that if ever I wanted any help I was to write to her. So I have written--to ask her whether she can find me any work to do, and she has asked me to go and see her."
"Work," said Aunt Elizabeth. "But you won"t go away while your aunt"s so ill."
Wouldn"t she? Maggie didn"t know so much about that.
"I want to be independent," said Maggie, trying to fix Aunt Elizabeth"s eyes. "It isn"t fair that I should be a burden to you."
"You"re no burden, dear." Aunt Elizabeth looked uneasily round the room. "Your aunt depends on you."
"Depends on me for what?"
"For everything."
"Then she oughtn"t to, Aunt Elizabeth, I"ve said it again and again.
I"m not fit for any one to depend on. I"m forgetful and careless and untidy. You know I am. And I"m different from every one here. I"m very grateful to Aunt Anne, but I"m not good enough for her to depend on."
Aunt Elizabeth blinked nervously.
"She"s got very little. You mustn"t take away all she has."
"I"m not all she has," answered Maggie, knowing that she was becoming excited and cross. "I don"t belong to any one except myself." "And Martin" her soul whispered. Then she added, suddenly moved by remorse as she looked at Aunt Elizabeth"s meek and trembling face, "You"re so good to me, both of you, and I"m so bad. I"ll give you anything but my freedom."
"You talk so strangely, dear," said Aunt Elizabeth. "But there are so many things I don"t understand."
Maggie took the letter up to her bedroom and there read it a number of times. It all seemed wonderful to her, the stamped blue address, the rich white square notepaper, and above all the beautiful handwriting.
She thought of her own childish scrawl and blushed, she even sat down, there and then, at her dressing-table and, with a pencil, began to imitate some of the letters.
On Friday! To-day was Tuesday. Bryanston Square. Wherever was Bryanston Square, and how would she find it? She determined to ask Caroline Smith.
She had not long to wait for her opportunity. On Wednesday evening about half-past five Miss Smith poked her head into the Cardinal drawing-room to discover Maggie sitting with her hands on her lap looking down on to the street.
"Are your aunts anywhere?" asked Caroline.
"No," said Maggie. "Aunt Anne"s in bed and Aunt Elizabeth"s at Miss Pyncheon"s."
"That"s right," said Caroline, "because I haven"t seen you, darling, for ages."
"The day before yesterday," said Maggie.
"You"re a literal pet," said Caroline kissing her. "I always exaggerate, of course, and it"s so sweet of you to tell me about it."
She rushed off to the fire and spread out her blue skirt and dangled her feet.
"Isn"t it cold and dark? You funny dear, not to have the blinds down and to sit staring into the beastly street like that ... I believe you"re in love."
Maggie came to herself with a start, got up and slowly went over to the fire.
"Caroline, where"s Bryanston Square?"
"Oh, you pet, don"t you know where Bryanston Square is?" cried Caroline suddenly fixing her bright eyes upon Maggie with burning curiosity.
"If I did I wouldn"t ask," said Maggie.
"Quite right--neither you would. Well, it"s near Marble Arch."
"But I don"t know where the Marble Arch is."
"Lord!" cried Caroline. "And she"s been in London for months. You really are a pet. Well, what you"d better do is to get into the first taxi you see and just say "Bryanston Square.""
How stupid of her! She might have thought of that for herself.
"Is there a park near Bryanston Square?" she asked.
"Yes. Of course--Hyde Park."
"And is it open at six?"
"Of course. You can"t shut Hyde Park."
"Oh!"