There was a moment"s pause. I saw the two exchange glances. Then Allan held out his hand.
"That d.a.m.ned woman again!" he exclaimed. "Forgive me, Arnold!"
"Willingly," I answered, "when I know what for."
"Suspecting you. Lady Delahaye wrote Arthur a note, in which she said that the Archd.u.c.h.ess and you had made fresh plans. You can guess what they were. And Illghera was off. You did hurry us away from Paris a bit, you know, and I was fool enough to imagine for a moment that there might be something in it. Forgive me, Arnold!" he added, holding out his hand.
"And me!" Arthur exclaimed, extending his.
I held out a hand to each. There was something grimly humorous in this reception, after all that I had suffered during the last few days. My first impulse of anger died away almost as quickly as it had been conceived.
"My friends," I said, "the Archd.u.c.h.ess did propose some such scheme to me, but you forget that my honour was involved, not only to you, not only to the child, but to a dead man. I can look you both in the face and a.s.sure you that in word and letter I have been faithful to my trust."
"I knew it!" Allan declared gruffly. "Dear old chap, forgive me!"
"I am the brute who dangled the letter before his eyes," Arthur exclaimed bitterly, "and I am the only one of the three who has broken our covenant."
"My dear friends," I said slowly, "the things which are past, let us forget. Isobel has gone back to the life which claimed her. No barrier which human hand could rear could separate her from us so effectually and irrevocably as the mere fact that she has taken up the position which belongs to her. She is the Princess Isobel of Waldenburg, a king"s grandchild. And we are--what we are! Let me now make my confession to you. I, too, loved her."
The two hands which held mine tightened for a moment their grasp. The old "camaraderie" was established once more.
"It is I who was responsible for her coming," I continued. "It is only fitting that I, too, should suffer. How she grew into our hearts you all know. She has gone, and nothing can ever be the same. Yet I for one do not regret it. I regret nothing! I am content to live with the memory of these wonderful days she spent with us."
"And I!" Allan declared.
"And I!" Arthur echoed.
I wrung their hands, for it was a joy to me to feel that we had come once more into complete accord.
"You know what sort of a state we were drifting into when she came," I continued. "We were like thousands of others. We were rubbing shoulders, hour by hour and day by day, with the world which takes no account of beautiful things. She came and laid the magician"s hand upon our lives.
We had perforce to alter our ways, to alter our surroundings, our amus.e.m.e.nts, our ideals. Joy came with her, and pain may find a secret place in our hearts now that she has gone, but I do not think that either of us would willingly blot out from his life these last two years. Would you, Arthur?"
"Not I!" he declared. "We had to learn ourselves to teach her. To chuck the things that were rotten, anyhow, just because she was around. Jolly good for us, too!"
"I agree with Arthur and you," Allan said. "I agree with all that you have said. The child was dear to me too. So dear, that I do not think that it would be easy to go back to our old life without her. That is why----"
He glanced around the room. Our hands fell apart. I lit a cigarette and looked at the open trunk.
"You are going away, Allan?"
He nodded.
"I"m off to Canada," he said. "I"ve an old uncle there who"s worth looking after, and he"s always bothering me to pay him a visit. Right time of the year, too--and hang it all, Arnold, I"ve sat here for a week in front of an empty canvas, and I"d go to h.e.l.l sooner than stand it any longer!"
"And you, Arthur?"
"I have been appointed manager of our Paris Depot," Arthur answered a little grandiloquently. "I couldn"t refuse it. Much better pay and more fun, and all that sort of thing, and--oh, hang it all, Arnold, is it likely a fellow could stay here now she"s gone?" he wound up, with a little catch in his throat.
So the old days were over! I looked at my desk, and by the side of it was the chair in which she used sometimes to sit while I read to her.
Then I think that I, too, was glad that this change was to come.
"There is one thing, Arnold," Mabane said quietly, "about her things. We locked the door of her room. Mrs. Burdett has packed up most of her clothes, but there are the ornaments and a few little things of her own.
We should like to go in--Arthur and I. We have waited for you."
"We will go now," I answered. "She will have no need of anything that she has left behind. We will each choose a keepsake, and lock the rest up."
We entered the room all together, almost on tiptoe. If we had been wearing hats I am sure that we should have taken them off. How, with such trifling means at her command, she could have left behind in that tiny chamber so potent an impression of daintiness and comfort I cannot tell. But there it was. Her little bed, with its spotless counterpane, was hung with pink muslin. There was a lace spread upon her toilet-table, on which her little oddments of silver made a brave show.
Only one thing seemed out of place, a worn little slipper peeping out from under a chair. I thrust it into my pocket. The others took some trifle from the table. Then, as silently as we had entered, we left the room. As I turned the key I choked down something in my throat, and did my best to laugh--a little unnaturally, I am afraid.
"Come!" I cried, "it is I who am responsible for this attack of sentiment. I will show you how to get rid of it. You dine with me at Hautboy"s. I have money--lots of it. Feurgeres left me twenty thousand pounds. Hautboy"s and a magnum of the best. How long will you fellows be dressing?"
They tried to fall into my mood. Allan mixed c.o.c.ktails. We drank and smoked and shouted to one another uproariously from our rooms as we changed our clothes. We drove to Hautboy"s three in a hansom, and Arthur spent his usual five minutes chaffing the young lady behind the tiny bar. But when the wine came, and our gla.s.ses were filled, a sudden silence fell upon us. We looked at each other, and we all knew what was in the minds of all of us. It was Allan who spoke.
"To Isobel!" he said softly.
We drank in silence, each busy with his own thoughts. But afterwards Arthur raised his gla.s.s high above his head.
"To the Princess Isobel!" he cried. "Long life and good luck to her!"
Afterwards there were no more toasts.
Arthur and Allan went their several ways within twenty-four hours of our farewell dinner. I saw them both off, and I forced them with great difficulty to share to some small extent in Feurgeres" legacy. Then I took some rooms near my club in the heart of London, and line for line, word for word, I re-wrote the whole of the story which I had not dared to show to Isobel, determined that the one thing I still had which was part of her body and soul should be the best that my brain and skill could fashion. So the winter and the early spring pa.s.sed, and then my story was published.
CHAPTER XI
A miracle of white daintiness, from the spotless muslin of her gown to the creamy lace which hung from her parasol. So far as toilette went, Lady Delahaye was always an artist. Yet my pulses were unmoved, and my heart unstirred, as she stood under my dark cedar-tree and welcomed me with all the expression which her tone and eyes could command.
"So you see, Sir Hermit," she murmured, "what happens to those who will not go to the mountain? Seriously, I hope you are glad to see me."
"Why not?" I answered calmly. "Will you come inside, or shall we sit here in the shade?"
"Here, by all means," she answered, subsiding gracefully into a wicker chair.
"You will let me order you some tea?"
She checked my movement towards the house.
"For Heaven"s sake, no! I have been paying calls all the afternoon with Mrs. Jerningham, and you know what that means. She has gone to the Hall now, and I am to pick her up in half an hour."
"You are staying at Eastford House, then?" I remarked.
"For a few days. Can you guess why?"