THE SACRIFICE.
For Elma the world held no future. Though surrounded by every luxury in that magnificent Park Lane mansion, the millionaire home that was the most notable in all London"s modern houses, her only thoughts were of her father and of her lover Roddy.
She hated that fat, beady-eyed but elegantly-dressed man whom Mr Harrison had introduced to her father, and who was now so openly making love to her. His words and his manner were alike artificial. The feminine mind is always astute, and she knew that whatever he said was mere empty compliment. She saw upon his lips the sign of sensuousness, a sign that no woman fails to note. Sensuousness and real love are things apart, and every woman can discriminate them. Men are deceivers.
Women may, on the other hand, allure, and be it said that the vampire woman like Freda Crisp is ever with us.
In the life of London, of Paris, or of New York, the vampire woman in society plays a part which is seldom suspected.
They are in a cla.s.s by themselves, as was Freda Crisp. The vampire woman is the popular term for a woman who lives by preying upon others; men usually, but upon her own s.e.x if occasion demands.
Freda Crisp, though few of the characters in this human drama of love and cupidity had suspected her, was a case in point. She was a type that was interesting. As a girl of eighteen everyone admired her for her charm of manner, her conversational gifts and her bright intellect, which was marred only by a rather too lively imagination, and a tendency to romance so ingeniously that no one ever knew if she told the truth or not.
Her career was abnormal, and yet not stranger than that of some others in these post-war days.
At nineteen she had been to prison for swindling. Physically she was wonderfully fascinating, but her chief characteristic was an absence of all real affection and moral feeling. Even as a girl she could profess pa.s.sionate love for those from whom she expected profit and gain; but misfortune and death, even of those nearest her, would leave her quite unmoved.
She was a perfect type of the modern adventuress. She could act well, and at times would shed tears profusely if she thought it the right thing at the moment.
As she grew older her unrestrained coquetry threw her into the vicious adventurous circle of which Gordon Gray was the master and moving spirit. She threw in her lot with him. On board a transatlantic liner on which she went for a trip to New York an officer fell a victim to her charms, and supplied her with money that was not his. His defalcations were discovered, and he committed suicide to escape disgrace.
That was the first unpleasant incident in her career after meeting Gray.
There were many afterwards. She was a woman whose sole aim was to see and enjoy life. Without heart and without feeling, active, not pa.s.sive in her love-making, she, like many another woman before her, aspired to power and influence over men, and many an honourable career was wrecked by her, and much gain had gone into the joint pockets of Gordon Gray and herself.
Purcell Sandys had been ruined. She knew it, and laughed.
She sat in Gray"s rooms in St James"s smoking a cigarette before going to dine at a restaurant, and was discussing the situation.
"Really, my dear Gordon," she said, puffing the smoke from her lips, "you are wonderful! You have the whole affair in your hands. We shall both make a fortune over this concession. The whole thing is as easy as falling off a log, thanks to you."
"It hasn"t been so easy as you think, my dear Freda, that I can a.s.sure you," he replied. "But I think we are now on a fair way towards bringing off our coup. The one great thing in our favour is old Homfray"s death. He knew far too much. At any moment he might have given us away. He was the one person in the whole world whom I feared."
"And you were a fool to defy him by selling that petty bit of property at Totnes," said the handsome woman.
"No, Freda, I wasn"t. I did it to prove that I defied him. When one man defies another it causes the defied to think. That is why I did it.
I knew his secret--a secret that no parson could face in his own parish. And if he dared to say a word against me I should have told what I knew to the bishop."
"Would the bishop have believed you?"
"Of course. He had only to look up the date of the criminal trial, then old Homfray, who knew so much of our little business, would have had to face the music. No, Freda, the old sky-pilot was too cute for us. He dared not face the music."
"But the girl, Elma Sandys? She"s a good sort and--well, Gordon, I tell you, I"m a bit sorry for her."
"I"m not. You and I will part for a bit, and I"ll marry her. By so doing I"ll gain a fortune, and then after a time I"ll come back to you, old girl. I won"t desert you--I promise that!"
"But would you really come back?" asked the woman, after a pause.
The stout man put his big hand upon hers and, looking into her eyes, said, "I swear it. We"ve been in tight corners before, Freda. Surely you can trust me in this--eh? It means big money for both of us, and no further worry for you."
"I don"t know that I can trust you, Gordon," the woman said, looking him straight in the face.
"Bah! you"re jealous of the girl!" And he laughed. "She"s only a slip of a thing who doesn"t count."
"But you"ve taken a fancy to her."
"I have, and I mean to marry her. Nothing can prevent that."
"I could," snapped the woman.
"Yes. But you won"t, my dear Freda. If you did--well, you"d forgo all the money that will very soon be yours."
"Arthur stands in with us."
"Well, I suppose we shall have to give him a little bit. But he"ll have to be satisfied with a few hundreds."
"He expects a quarter share."
"He"ll have to go on expecting," laughed her companion. "`Guinness"
always expects more than he"s ent.i.tled to. It is a complaint of his."
"And if you married this girl, do you think you would be happy, Gordon?"
"Happy? I"m not seeking happiness, my dear girl. I"m after money."
"But can"t it be managed without your marriage to Elma?"
"No, it can"t," he declared. "That"s one of my conditions to old Sandys. Naturally the girl is thinking of her lover. But she"ll soon see that he"s deceived her, and then she"ll learn to forget him."
"I doubt it. I know the temperament of young girls of Elma"s stamp."
"You"re jealous. I repeat!" he said with sarcasm. "Fancy! Your being jealous of Elma! Am I so good-looking and such an Adonis--eh?"
"You"re anything but that," she replied sharply. "But you see, Gordon, you"ve taught me never to trust a soul, not even yourself. And I don"t.
Once you marry that girl you will become a rich man and try to shake me off. But,"--and a fierce expression showed in the woman"s eyes--"but I"ll watch that you don"t. I can say a lot, remember."
"And I can also," the man laughed, with a careless air, "but I won"t, and neither will you, my dear girl. Silence is best for both of us."
"You can carry out the business without marrying Elma," Freda urged.
"You have taken every precaution against accident, and the ruin of Sandys has made everything possible. What would Mr Sandys say if he knew that the amiable Mr Rex Rutherford was one of the men to whom Sir Charles Hornton lost that big sum at cards three nights before he killed himself?"
Gray drew a long breath.
"Well," he said with a bitter smile, "I don"t suppose he"d feel very friendly towards me. But the driving of Sir Charles into a corner was, I foresaw, one of the chief points in our game. Sandys is ruined, and I"m the good Samaritan who comes forward at the opportune moment and brings salvation."
"Clever," declared the woman, "devilish clever! But you always are, Gordon. You are wonderful."
"In combination with yourself, my dear Freda. I"m no good without you,"
he declared. "So don"t exhibit these foolish fits of jealousy. I"ve made up my mind to marry Sandys" daughter, for it will improve my prestige. When I"ve had enough of her, I shall simply leave her and we will rejoin forces again," he added callously. And then together they went out to dine at the Ritz.