But she could see that Joyselle was going to be what she called in the frankness she allowed herself, tiresome about that wretched boy of his.
She also knew that Joyselle would be anything but pleased by her resolution to leave home and live by herself. His respect for certain laws were an integral part of his nature, and she knew that he would not approve of her deserting what he was certain to call the maternal roof.
This curious element of Philistinism in his otherwise Bohemian nature was very perplexing, and she told herself, as she looked at him while he gravely listened to the ghostly Lady Sophy, that her troubles were in reality only just beginning.
"M. Joyselle," she asked him during a pause that only a burning desire for champagne induced Lady Sophy to allow to pa.s.s unchallenged, "will _pet.i.te mere_ mind my coming to sleep to-night? I want very much to see her about something, and so I told mother I"d get you and Theo to take me home."
He bowed with an a.s.sumption of fatherly gratification. "But of course, my dear." Then, for his powers of dissimulation were not of durable quality, he turned quickly to Lady Sophy.
So that was all right.
When dinner was over and the women were herded together in the drawing-room, Brigit sat down and took up a book. In an hour Theo would be coming, and would want his answer. What was it to be?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Theo arrived rather late, and after making his bow to his hostess, came straight to her. His fine young face was flushed and eager and his eyes very bright.
Brigit, who was standing talking to Maytopp, felt her heart sink. She had not yet decided what to say, and instinctively she looked round the room for Joyselle.
"Brigit--will you dance?" Theo bowed, a trifle lower than Englishmen bow, and offered her his arm with the very slightest suggestion of swagger. And somehow he reminded her at that moment more of his father than he had ever done.
He did not speak as they danced, but she knew that he was fairly confident of her answer being a favourable one, and she tried to think that the waltz was never going to end.
But it did end, and she found herself near the window leading to the balcony where she had talked with his father early in the evening.
"Brigit----" he whispered gently, looking out into the darkness.
And then she heard herself answer: "Yes, Theo. But--ask your father what he and I have decided."
"Ask papa!"
"Yes. He knows what we are going to do, and he will tell you."
Without a word he left her and she stepped out on the balcony. Leaning against the parapet she stared down into the empty street, wondering what Joyselle would say. She had not intended to put the responsibility of the future on him; she had said the words almost unconsciously, but they were said. And he, when he came?
Would the horrible courage she had felt in him prevail to the extent of allowing him to give her to his son? Or would he refuse to settle things? Or would he, worst of all, announce his departure for America!
He was so many men, each of whom were so strong and so individual, that she could not know what he would say. Closing her eyes she waited. When the two men joined her Theo was--laughing. And to her overwrought nerves the sound seemed an insult.
"Why do you laugh?" she asked sharply.
He started. "Why--I don"t remember. Papa said something amusing. Is anything wrong, my dear?"
"No." Joyselle stood in the light and she could see his face. It looked set and a little grim, but there was a fierce light in his eyes.
She looked at him defiantly. Yes, she had done well; he should choose.
"_Eh, bien?_" suggested Joyselle suddenly, "why have you sent for me, Most Beautiful?"
So Theo had not explained!
"Theo is very impatient," she answered in a low voice; "he wants me to set our wedding-day. And--I have to make up my mind, you know--I thought as you and I had talked it over before dinner, you would not mind--casting the die for us."
There was a pause while Joyselle deliberately moved beyond the radius of the light.
Theo did not move, but his immobility was the motionlessness of extreme tension. He had not observed the discrepancy in her story, Brigit saw, and was simply waiting.
It seemed many minutes before Joyselle spoke. Then he said briskly, "The pros and cons are many, Theo. Brigit will tell you them later. And there are--clothes to be got, are there not? And I must go away in a few days--to Madrid, and shall be gone three weeks. It might be well for you to marry at once, say early in June, or--you might wait until the autumn."
He lit a cigarette and Brigit drew a deep breath of relief. Thank G.o.d, he was hedging, and could not make up his mind.
"I do not wish to wait," announced Theo, with unexpected and terrible decision. "I can see no reason for it, _pere_. Brigit, let it be early in June."
Joyselle"s match fell to the floor, and his cigarette was still unlit.
"I think I have been patient," pursued the young man, his voice trembling a little. "Ah, father, I love her, and I want my wife."
Joyselle"s arm jerked and the unlit cigarette flew out into the darkness. "You are right," he began abruptly, but Brigit drew nearer to him and in the darkness laid her hand on his.
"He is right in one way, _Beau-pere_" she said, grasping his hand with spasmodic strength, "and I am a brute, but I should so _much_ rather wait a little longer. I have reasons, Theo."
Joyselle caught her hand in his, and gave a great laugh.
"Oh, _mes enfants, mes enfants_," he cried. "When lovers disagree, who is to decide but--chance? Come, Theo, your chances shall be the same as hers. Heads you win, tails you lose. Agreed?"
Staggering back into the light, his face flushed, his teeth flashing in a broad smile, he took a sixpence from his pocket. "You both agree?"
Theo nodded in silence and Brigit answered simply "Yes."
The coin shot from the violinist"s thumb-nail, flew up into the air and was caught on his palm, his left hand covering it.
"Heads, then, a June wedding. Tails, then _mees_ has her way, and the event is put off till autumn? Right?"
"Yes."
Theo had turned away, and Brigit was free to look full into Joyselle"s face. It was a wonderful face in its absolute oneness of expression.
There were no complications, no remorse, nothing but wild and fierce love of gambling, and hope that the woman he loved should remain free a little longer.
"It is--tails."
Theo walked into the ballroom without a word, and Brigit found herself close in his father"s arms for a wild moment. "We have won, _mon adoree, mon adoree_," he murmured. "Thank G.o.d!"
She drew away, trying to remember prudence.
"Yes. Then--this summer is ours. And in the autumn----"