"I"m sorry I didn"t wire you because we might have dined together. I saw Plank this afternoon. He did not say you were to dine with him. Shall I see you later in the evening, Sylvia?"
"I--it will be too late--"
"Oh! To-morrow then. What train do you take?"
Sylvia did not answer; he picked up his hat, repeating the question carelessly, and still she made no reply.
"Shall I see you to-morrow?" he asked, swinging on her rather suddenly.
"I think--not. I--there will be no time--"
He bowed quietly to Leila, offering his hand. "Who did you say was to dine with you--besides Plank?"
Leila stood silent, then, withdrawing her fingers, walked to the window.
Quarrier, his hat in his gloved hands, looked from one to the other, his inquiring eyes returning and focused on Sylvia.
"Who are you dining with?" he asked with authority.
"Mr. Plank and Mr. Siward."
"Mr. Siward!" he repeated in surprised displeasure, as though he had not already divined it.
"Yes. A man I like."
"A man I dislike," he rejoined with the slightest emphasis.
"I am sorry," she said simply.
"So am I, Sylvia. And I am going to ask you to make him an excuse. Any excuse will do."
"Excuse? What do you mean, Howard?"
"I mean that I do not care to have you seen with Mr. Siward. Have I ever demanded very much of you, Sylvia? Very well; I demand this of you now."
And still she stood there, her eyes wide, her colour gone, repeating: "Excuse? What excuse? What do you mean by "excuse," Howard?"
"I have told you. You know my wishes. If he has a telephone you can communicate with him--"
"And say that I--that you forbid me--"
"If you choose. Yes; say that I object to him. Is there anything extraordinary in a man objecting to his future wife dining in the country at a common inn with a notorious outcast from every decent club and circle in New York?"
"What!" she whispered, white as death. "What did you say?"
"Shall I repeat what everybody except you seems to be aware of? Do you care to have me explain to you exactly why decent people have ostracised this man with whom you are proposing to figure in a public resort?"
He turned to Leila, who stood at the window, her back turned toward them: "Mrs. Mortimer, when Mr. Plank arrives, you will be kind enough to explain why Sylvia is unable to accompany you."
If Leila heard she neither turned nor made sign of comprehension.
"We will dine at the Santa Regina," he said to Sylvia. "Agatha is there and I"ll find somebody at the club to--"
"Why bother to find anybody?" said Leila, wheeling on him, exasperated.
"Why not dine there with Agatha alone? It will not be the first time I fancy!"
"What do you mean?" he said fiercely, under his breath. The colour had left his face, too, and in his eyes Leila saw for the first time an expression that she had never before surprised in any eyes except her husband"s. It was the expression of fright; she recognised it. But Sylvia stared, unenlightened, at an altered visage she scarcely knew for Quarrier"s.
"What do I mean?" repeated Leila; "I mean what I say; and if you don"t understand it you can find the key to it, I fancy. Nor shall I answer to you for my guests. I invite whom I choose. Mr. Siward is one, Mr. Plank is another. Sylvia, if you care to come I shall be delighted."
"I do care to come," said Sylvia. Her heart was beating violently, her eyes were on Quarrier.
"If you go," said Quarrier, showing the glimmering edge of teeth under his beard, "you will answer to me for it."
"I will answer you now, Howard; I am going with Mrs. Mortimer. What have you to say?"
"I"ll say it to-morrow," he replied, contemplating her in a dull, impa.s.sive manner as though absorbed in other things.
"Say what there is to be said now!" she insisted, the hot colour staining her cheeks again. "Do you desire me to free you? Is that all? I will if you wish."
"No. And I shall not free you, Sylvia. This--all this can be adjusted in time."
"As you please," she said slowly.
"In time," he repeated, his pa.s.sionless voice now under perfect control.
He turned and looked at Leila; all the wickedness of his anger was concentrated in his gaze. Then he took his leave of them as formally, as precisely as though he had forgotten the whole scene; and a minute later the big Mercedes ran out into a half-circle, backed, wheeled, and rolled away through the thickening dusk, the glare of the acetylenes sweeping the deserted street.
Into the twilight sped Quarrier, head bent, but his soft, dark-lashed eyes of a woman fixed steadily ahead. Every energy, every thought was now bent to this newest phase of the same question which he and Fate were finding simpler to solve every minute. Of all the luxuries he permitted himself openly or furtively, one--the rarest of them all--his self-denial had practically eliminated from the list: the luxury of punishing where no end was served save that of mere personal satisfaction. The temptation of this luxury now presented itself; and the means of gratification were so simple, so secret, so easy to command, that the temptation became almost a duty.
Siward he had not turned out of his way to injure; Siward had been in the way, that was all, and his ruin was to have been merely an agreeable coincidence with the purposed ruin of Amalgamated Electric before Inter-County absorbed the fragments. But here was a new phase; Mrs.
Mortimer, whom he had expected to use, and if necessary sacrifice, had suddenly turned vicious. And he now hated her as coldly as he hated Major Belwether for betraying suspicions of a similar nature. As for Plank, fear and hatred of him was becoming hatred and contempt. He had the means of checking Plank if Mortimer did not drop dead before midnight. There remained Sylvia, whom he had selected as the fittest object attainable to transmit his name. Long ago, whatever of liking, of affection, of pa.s.sion he had ever entertained for her had quieted to indifference and the unemotional contemplation of a future methodically arranged for. Now of a sudden, this young girl he had bought--he knowing what she sold and what he was paying for--had become exposed to the infection of a suspicion concerning himself and another woman; a woman unmarried, and of his own caste, and numbered among her own friends.
And he knew enough of Sylvia to know that if anybody could once arouse her suspicion nothing on earth could induce her to look into his face again. Suppose Leila should do so this evening?
Certainly Quarrier had several matters to ponder over and provide for; and first and foremost of all to provide for his own security and the vital necessity of preserving his name and his character untainted. In this he had to deal with that miserable judge who had betrayed him; with Mortimer, who had once black-mailed him and who now was temporarily in his service; with Mrs. Mortimer, who--G.o.d knew how, when, or where--had become suspicious of Agatha and himself; with Major Belwether, who had deserted him before he could sacrifice the major, and whom he now hated and feared for having stumbled over suspicions similar to Mrs.
Mortimer"s. He had to deal with Sylvia herself, and with Siward--reckon with Siward"s knowledge of matters which it were best that Sylvia should not know.
But first of all, and most important of all, he had to deal with Beverly Plank. And he was going to do it in a manner that Plank could not have foreseen; he was going to stop Plank where he stood, and to do this he was deliberately using his knowledge of the man and paying Plank the compliment of counting on his sense of honour to defeat him.
For he had suddenly found the opportunity to defend himself; he had discovered the joint in Plank"s old-fashioned armour--the armour of the old paladins--who placed a woman"s honour before all else in the world.
Now, through his creature, Mortimer, he could menace Plank with a threat to involve him and Leila in a vile publicity; now he was in a position to demand a hearing and a compromise through his new amba.s.sador, Mortimer, knowing that he could at last halt Plank by threatening Leila with this shameful danger. Plank must sign the truce or face with Leila an action for damages and divorce.
First of all he went to the Lenox Club and dressed. Then he dined sparingly and alone. The Mercedes was waiting when he came out ready to run down to the great Hotel Corona, whither the j.a.panese steward had conducted Mortimer. Mortimer had dined heavily, but his disorganised physical condition was such that it had scarcely affected him at all.
Again Quarrier went over patiently and carefully the very simple part he had reserved for Mortimer that evening, explaining exactly what to say to Leila and what to say to Plank in case of insolent interruption. Then he told Mortimer to be ready at nine o"clock, turned on his heel with a curt word to the j.a.panese, descended to the street, entered his motor-car again, and sped away to the Hotel Santa Regina.
Miss Caithness was at home, came the message in exchange for his cards for Agatha and Mrs. Vendenning. He entered the gilded elevator, stepped out on the sixth floor into a tiny, rococo, public reception-room.
n.o.body was there besides himself; Agatha"s maid came presently, and he turned and followed her into the large and very handsome parlour belonging to the suite which Agatha was occupying with Mrs. Vendenning for the few days that they were to stop in town.