CHAPTER XXVA Curious Engagement.For several days Lawrence had only a flying interview with Gwen, so occupied was she with balls and receptions and gayeties of all kinds, and meanwhile he still pondered the question of the Adairs. At last Gwen noticed he was unusually quiet, and taxed him in her customary outspoken fashion.“There’s something the matter with you, Lawrie,” she said. “You’ve been looking as solemn as a boiled owl for days. Is it an attack of liver, or the hundred-and-ninety-ninth love episode? Come, out with it, and let me give you the benefit of my sage advice.”They were standing on the large staircase at the Viceroy’s, having met at a reception there, and she had detained him in passing.“Why not choose a more public spot?” Lawrence asked. “Only half Calcutta would hear us here, and they might as well all know.”“You goose,” she laughed. “I suppose you want atête-à-tête. Oh, dear!” with a sigh; “and I’ve got such a lot of special friends here to-night. Never mind, I’ll manage it. I’ll go with you to have refreshments at eleven o’clock, and then we’ll—well, we’ll go and look at the idols and mummies and things,” and she passed gayly on.Later they found their way into a quiet alcove that overlooked the big reception rooms, and Gwen at once plunged into the subject.“Is it anything to do with the little Irish girl?” she asked.“Partly.”“Well, what’s happened.”“Her father is dead.”“Dead!” echoed Gwen, in a shocked voice.“Yes. He died after a few days’ illness, about six weeks ago, of some heart attack.”“Goodness! How sudden it seems. When did you hear?”“The night I told you about them.”“Fancy! And I’ve never given you a chance to speak of it.”Lawrence was silent.“I can see that’s not all,” she said.“No. The money all seems to have gone, and they have to leave their home and go and live in London, and Paddy’s going to be a dispenser.”“What in the name of wonder is a dispenser?”“A person who makes up prescriptions.”“In a chemist’s shop!” opening her eyes wide.“Sometimes; but in this case it would be in a private doctor’s surgery.”“What an extraordinary occupation! What on earth put it into their heads! If I had to earn money I’d go into a big establishment where you did nothing all day long except try on lovely dresses and pat yourself on the back because you knew you looked infinitely better in them than the annoying people who had the money to buy them.”“That wouldn’t suit Paddy. She’d probably end by throwing the dresses at the people’s heads. It’s quite likely that’s what she’ll eventually do with the bottles of medicine.”“Poor Paddy,” said Gwen softly. “Do you know, I don’t hate her a bit now! I’m just awfully sorry.”Lawrence was silent a moment.“It will be terrible for those girls to have to live in London,” he said at last.“What—are they sisters?” she cried. “Do you mean Paddy and the goody-goody girl?”“Yes.”“But you didn’t say they were sisters before.”“Didn’t I?” carelessly. “Well, probably I didn’t think about it.”Gwen watched him thoughtfully.“Do you know,” she said at last, “I think you’ll just have to go home and marry Paddy, and make the mother and the other one a present of their old home.”“Paddy would almost as soon marry the Sultan of Turkey.”Gwen looked at him with a sudden light of understanding.“Lawrie,” she exclaimed, “you don’t mean to tell me that you’ve been foolish enough to make love to the goody-goody one!”“I told you she was not goody-goody,” shortly.“Well, what is she, then!”There was a pause.“She’s like my mother,” he said slowly; “only mother was never as good-looking.”“Yes, that’s all very well,” quoth Gwen; “but men never want to marry their mothers, even when they worship them. I can just see the whole thing now, and you’ve behaved like an idiot, for all your brains and cleverness. If I had been there to look after you it wouldn’t have happened. A man of your type does notlovea girl of her type; he only admires and respects from a distance. If you had married her you wouldn’t have made her happy, so it’s a very good thing for her you’ve come away. Why! your morose, taciturn moods would have broken her heart, and your temper would have been like an icy blast to a delicate hot-house flower. She would never have understood you at all; and being sweet-tempered and unselfish herself would only have left her more hopelessly in the dark, and in the end have irritated you awfully. Oh! I am very wise, Lawrie, about some things. I don’t know how I got it, but it’s there, and possibly father spared me a biggish slice of his brains. Now the other girl, Paddy, would suit you well, but it’s a pity she’s plain. If you were moody and sullen with her I expect she’d throw something at your head, and that’s just about what you need.”“You are very kind.”“Glad you think so,” with a little laugh; “but meanwhile, what’s to be done with your friends!”Lawrence was annoyed with her plain speaking, probably because she was so distinctly in the right.“I think,” he said coolly, “that I shall return to England and marry Paddy’s sister.”Gwen looked into his face, and saw with her usual intuition exactly how matters stood.“Very well,” she said airily, getting up. “Go and make the funeral pile of your own happiness and hers as well. I’m sure I don’t care, and I’ve got quite as much on my hands out here just now as I can well attend to, so I’ll be quite relieved to leave you to look after your own affairs entirely. But when you’ve managed to fit a square block into a round hole by becoming a pattern, stay-at-home country squire, just let me know, as by that time I shall be wanting to see something unique. Good-by! I have an important engagement,” and without giving him time to offer his escort she was off.Lawrence remained where he was, and thought of Eileen, drawing back into deep shadow, and staring moodily down at the gay throng below him. After a long time, getting no nearer to a decision, he went below again and joined a small coterie of men about the Hon. Jack Carew, discussing the probability of disturbances on the Afghan frontier in the spring.A few days later, while still in a state of indecision, he made the discovery that Gwen was in a fix. He came upon her unexpectedly in the morning-room, and caught her with tears in her eyes before she had time to brush them away. She did so angrily enough directly he entered, but by that time he had seen them. Lawrence looked at her a moment, and then crossed and carefully closed the door and came back again.“What’s the matter?” he asked, as if he meant to be told.“Nothing,” she answered shortly.“When I came in your were crying.”“No, I wasn’t!” and she tossed her head.“Fibber,” from Lawrence.“Well, I suppose I can please myself.”“Not much good though, when I know the truth.”“I tell you I wasn’t crying,” stamping her foot.“Very well, then, we’ll begin again. How did you manage to get such a cold, Gwen?”“I haven’t a cold.”“Indeed! I thought your eyes were running.”She made no reply. Lawrence drew near and leaned on the table beside her.“What’s the matter, chum?” he said coaxingly.“Oh! just everything,” she broke out. “I can’t think why Heaven made men such fools.”“Admirers getting entangled?” he asked.“Yes,” pettishly. “I believe Captain O’Connor is going to make Lord Selloyd fight.”“You needn’t worry. Woolly lambs don’t fight—they run away.”“Oh, but can’t you see how silly it is!” she cried in exasperation. “It is bound to get round to the clubs, and then to the women, and mother will be furious. I must make them come to their senses somehow.”“What’s it all about?”“Oh, I don’t know,” expressively. “A storm in a tea-cup, of course, but you Irishmen are so ridiculously hot-headed. Take a hot-headed Irishman and an Englishman who is a fool, and they’re sure to do something silly.“I don’t mind about them,” running on, “but I do want to keep it from mother and father. You see, they give me a lot of liberty, and they’ll think I’ve been abusing it, and it really wasn’t my fault this time,” and the tears sprang to her eyes again.“What happened?”“Well, it was at the Inglis’ dance. Lord Selloyd would follow me about, and Captain O’Connor got angry. I think they had both had too much champagne for supper, and in the end they had a row.”“Probably it has all blown over by now.”“No, it hasn’t. They will both be at the Markhams’ to-night, and it will be very unpleasant.”“I shall be there,” said Lawrence. “Can’t I see you through!”Gwen was thoughtful a few moments, and suddenly she looked up with an idea.“Look here, Lawrence,” she said, “if I could once for all convince both of them it wasn’t the least use thinking any more about me, I believe they’d just leave Calcutta, and no one would ever know there had been this bother.”“And can’t you?”“I can’t by merely talking. I must try and prove it—and I have an idea, Lawrence.”“Say on.”“If I could tell them I was engaged it would just simplify everything.” Lawrence nodded, to show he was following, and waited. “I can only do that with someone to corroborate it, and I’ve been thinking, Lawrence, if you wouldn’t mind helping me, you’re just the man.”“I am ready for anything. What do you want?”“I want you to be secretly engaged to me for this evening.”Lawrence looked up, and there was amusement in his eyes.“It’s a splendid idea,” she exclaimed, warming to her subject. “I shall tell Captain O’Connor and make him understand it can’t be announced for some particular reason, and he’ll be flattered at being told, and just keep it to himself and say no more. You must, of course, be there yourself to sanction it or he might not believe it.”Gwen talked on, and Lawrence listened, falling in with her plans easily enough because he saw no harm in the trick and it was the least trouble. When Mrs Carew joined them later, Gwen was radiant again and rather looking forward to her evening. Afterward she was still more radiant, for everything had gone well. Captain O’Connor, a fiery young officer, spending a month’s leave in Calcutta before starting to England, was quickly brought to reason by Gwen’s charming way of confiding in him, and, while announcing his intention of running himself through, in the same moment grasped Lawrence’s hand, and told him he was the luckiest chap on earth.The next morning he did actually start for England, a week sooner than he intended, leaving Lord Selloyd to congratulate himself upon having got out of the quarrel so simply.The incident dispersed Gwen’s passing displeasure with Lawrence also, and she condescended once more to mention the subject of the Adairs, asking him if he had decided what to do. He was standing with his hands in his pockets looking out of the window, and for a moment he did not reply. Gwen came and leaned against the window-frame beside him.“If you go, Lawrie, are you quite certain it would have to be the pretty one?” she asked.“Yes—quite,” he answered.“Then stay here. I’m awfully sorry for them—at least I’m sorry for Paddy,” she continued, as he did not speak, “but I’m absolutely certain it would be a mistake for you to marry the other one. Deep down in your heart you think so yourself, don’t you?”“I have long been under the impression that I had no heart.”“Rubbish! Why, that’s what people say about me, and do you think I don’t know better! When ‘John Right’ comes along you’ll all see I’ve got just as much heart as any one else, but until he does—a short life and a merry one, say I! That’s how it will be with you, Lawrie. When Mary Jane Right turns up you’ll tear your hair—what there is of it—and stamp, and rave, and storm, just like any other love-sick male. Till then, if it pleases you to be cynical andblasé, and all that nonsense, why, be cynical andblasé; it doesn’t hurt any one else—in fact, it’s rather amusing,” and she rested her hand on his arm and looked into his face with roguish, laughing eyes. “I’d have just loved to have a brother,” she said, “but, like that nice old General Adair who wanted a son, I guess I’ve got the next best thing.”So, in the end, Lawrence did not return to England, and nothing happened to avert the hard change for Paddy and Eileen and their mother.
For several days Lawrence had only a flying interview with Gwen, so occupied was she with balls and receptions and gayeties of all kinds, and meanwhile he still pondered the question of the Adairs. At last Gwen noticed he was unusually quiet, and taxed him in her customary outspoken fashion.
“There’s something the matter with you, Lawrie,” she said. “You’ve been looking as solemn as a boiled owl for days. Is it an attack of liver, or the hundred-and-ninety-ninth love episode? Come, out with it, and let me give you the benefit of my sage advice.”
They were standing on the large staircase at the Viceroy’s, having met at a reception there, and she had detained him in passing.
“Why not choose a more public spot?” Lawrence asked. “Only half Calcutta would hear us here, and they might as well all know.”
“You goose,” she laughed. “I suppose you want atête-à-tête. Oh, dear!” with a sigh; “and I’ve got such a lot of special friends here to-night. Never mind, I’ll manage it. I’ll go with you to have refreshments at eleven o’clock, and then we’ll—well, we’ll go and look at the idols and mummies and things,” and she passed gayly on.
Later they found their way into a quiet alcove that overlooked the big reception rooms, and Gwen at once plunged into the subject.
“Is it anything to do with the little Irish girl?” she asked.
“Partly.”
“Well, what’s happened.”
“Her father is dead.”
“Dead!” echoed Gwen, in a shocked voice.
“Yes. He died after a few days’ illness, about six weeks ago, of some heart attack.”
“Goodness! How sudden it seems. When did you hear?”
“The night I told you about them.”
“Fancy! And I’ve never given you a chance to speak of it.”
Lawrence was silent.
“I can see that’s not all,” she said.
“No. The money all seems to have gone, and they have to leave their home and go and live in London, and Paddy’s going to be a dispenser.”
“What in the name of wonder is a dispenser?”
“A person who makes up prescriptions.”
“In a chemist’s shop!” opening her eyes wide.
“Sometimes; but in this case it would be in a private doctor’s surgery.”
“What an extraordinary occupation! What on earth put it into their heads! If I had to earn money I’d go into a big establishment where you did nothing all day long except try on lovely dresses and pat yourself on the back because you knew you looked infinitely better in them than the annoying people who had the money to buy them.”
“That wouldn’t suit Paddy. She’d probably end by throwing the dresses at the people’s heads. It’s quite likely that’s what she’ll eventually do with the bottles of medicine.”
“Poor Paddy,” said Gwen softly. “Do you know, I don’t hate her a bit now! I’m just awfully sorry.”
Lawrence was silent a moment.
“It will be terrible for those girls to have to live in London,” he said at last.
“What—are they sisters?” she cried. “Do you mean Paddy and the goody-goody girl?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t say they were sisters before.”
“Didn’t I?” carelessly. “Well, probably I didn’t think about it.”
Gwen watched him thoughtfully.
“Do you know,” she said at last, “I think you’ll just have to go home and marry Paddy, and make the mother and the other one a present of their old home.”
“Paddy would almost as soon marry the Sultan of Turkey.”
Gwen looked at him with a sudden light of understanding.
“Lawrie,” she exclaimed, “you don’t mean to tell me that you’ve been foolish enough to make love to the goody-goody one!”
“I told you she was not goody-goody,” shortly.
“Well, what is she, then!”
There was a pause.
“She’s like my mother,” he said slowly; “only mother was never as good-looking.”
“Yes, that’s all very well,” quoth Gwen; “but men never want to marry their mothers, even when they worship them. I can just see the whole thing now, and you’ve behaved like an idiot, for all your brains and cleverness. If I had been there to look after you it wouldn’t have happened. A man of your type does notlovea girl of her type; he only admires and respects from a distance. If you had married her you wouldn’t have made her happy, so it’s a very good thing for her you’ve come away. Why! your morose, taciturn moods would have broken her heart, and your temper would have been like an icy blast to a delicate hot-house flower. She would never have understood you at all; and being sweet-tempered and unselfish herself would only have left her more hopelessly in the dark, and in the end have irritated you awfully. Oh! I am very wise, Lawrie, about some things. I don’t know how I got it, but it’s there, and possibly father spared me a biggish slice of his brains. Now the other girl, Paddy, would suit you well, but it’s a pity she’s plain. If you were moody and sullen with her I expect she’d throw something at your head, and that’s just about what you need.”
“You are very kind.”
“Glad you think so,” with a little laugh; “but meanwhile, what’s to be done with your friends!”
Lawrence was annoyed with her plain speaking, probably because she was so distinctly in the right.
“I think,” he said coolly, “that I shall return to England and marry Paddy’s sister.”
Gwen looked into his face, and saw with her usual intuition exactly how matters stood.
“Very well,” she said airily, getting up. “Go and make the funeral pile of your own happiness and hers as well. I’m sure I don’t care, and I’ve got quite as much on my hands out here just now as I can well attend to, so I’ll be quite relieved to leave you to look after your own affairs entirely. But when you’ve managed to fit a square block into a round hole by becoming a pattern, stay-at-home country squire, just let me know, as by that time I shall be wanting to see something unique. Good-by! I have an important engagement,” and without giving him time to offer his escort she was off.
Lawrence remained where he was, and thought of Eileen, drawing back into deep shadow, and staring moodily down at the gay throng below him. After a long time, getting no nearer to a decision, he went below again and joined a small coterie of men about the Hon. Jack Carew, discussing the probability of disturbances on the Afghan frontier in the spring.
A few days later, while still in a state of indecision, he made the discovery that Gwen was in a fix. He came upon her unexpectedly in the morning-room, and caught her with tears in her eyes before she had time to brush them away. She did so angrily enough directly he entered, but by that time he had seen them. Lawrence looked at her a moment, and then crossed and carefully closed the door and came back again.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, as if he meant to be told.
“Nothing,” she answered shortly.
“When I came in your were crying.”
“No, I wasn’t!” and she tossed her head.
“Fibber,” from Lawrence.
“Well, I suppose I can please myself.”
“Not much good though, when I know the truth.”
“I tell you I wasn’t crying,” stamping her foot.
“Very well, then, we’ll begin again. How did you manage to get such a cold, Gwen?”
“I haven’t a cold.”
“Indeed! I thought your eyes were running.”
She made no reply. Lawrence drew near and leaned on the table beside her.
“What’s the matter, chum?” he said coaxingly.
“Oh! just everything,” she broke out. “I can’t think why Heaven made men such fools.”
“Admirers getting entangled?” he asked.
“Yes,” pettishly. “I believe Captain O’Connor is going to make Lord Selloyd fight.”
“You needn’t worry. Woolly lambs don’t fight—they run away.”
“Oh, but can’t you see how silly it is!” she cried in exasperation. “It is bound to get round to the clubs, and then to the women, and mother will be furious. I must make them come to their senses somehow.”
“What’s it all about?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” expressively. “A storm in a tea-cup, of course, but you Irishmen are so ridiculously hot-headed. Take a hot-headed Irishman and an Englishman who is a fool, and they’re sure to do something silly.
“I don’t mind about them,” running on, “but I do want to keep it from mother and father. You see, they give me a lot of liberty, and they’ll think I’ve been abusing it, and it really wasn’t my fault this time,” and the tears sprang to her eyes again.
“What happened?”
“Well, it was at the Inglis’ dance. Lord Selloyd would follow me about, and Captain O’Connor got angry. I think they had both had too much champagne for supper, and in the end they had a row.”
“Probably it has all blown over by now.”
“No, it hasn’t. They will both be at the Markhams’ to-night, and it will be very unpleasant.”
“I shall be there,” said Lawrence. “Can’t I see you through!”
Gwen was thoughtful a few moments, and suddenly she looked up with an idea.
“Look here, Lawrence,” she said, “if I could once for all convince both of them it wasn’t the least use thinking any more about me, I believe they’d just leave Calcutta, and no one would ever know there had been this bother.”
“And can’t you?”
“I can’t by merely talking. I must try and prove it—and I have an idea, Lawrence.”
“Say on.”
“If I could tell them I was engaged it would just simplify everything.” Lawrence nodded, to show he was following, and waited. “I can only do that with someone to corroborate it, and I’ve been thinking, Lawrence, if you wouldn’t mind helping me, you’re just the man.”
“I am ready for anything. What do you want?”
“I want you to be secretly engaged to me for this evening.”
Lawrence looked up, and there was amusement in his eyes.
“It’s a splendid idea,” she exclaimed, warming to her subject. “I shall tell Captain O’Connor and make him understand it can’t be announced for some particular reason, and he’ll be flattered at being told, and just keep it to himself and say no more. You must, of course, be there yourself to sanction it or he might not believe it.”
Gwen talked on, and Lawrence listened, falling in with her plans easily enough because he saw no harm in the trick and it was the least trouble. When Mrs Carew joined them later, Gwen was radiant again and rather looking forward to her evening. Afterward she was still more radiant, for everything had gone well. Captain O’Connor, a fiery young officer, spending a month’s leave in Calcutta before starting to England, was quickly brought to reason by Gwen’s charming way of confiding in him, and, while announcing his intention of running himself through, in the same moment grasped Lawrence’s hand, and told him he was the luckiest chap on earth.
The next morning he did actually start for England, a week sooner than he intended, leaving Lord Selloyd to congratulate himself upon having got out of the quarrel so simply.
The incident dispersed Gwen’s passing displeasure with Lawrence also, and she condescended once more to mention the subject of the Adairs, asking him if he had decided what to do. He was standing with his hands in his pockets looking out of the window, and for a moment he did not reply. Gwen came and leaned against the window-frame beside him.
“If you go, Lawrie, are you quite certain it would have to be the pretty one?” she asked.
“Yes—quite,” he answered.
“Then stay here. I’m awfully sorry for them—at least I’m sorry for Paddy,” she continued, as he did not speak, “but I’m absolutely certain it would be a mistake for you to marry the other one. Deep down in your heart you think so yourself, don’t you?”
“I have long been under the impression that I had no heart.”
“Rubbish! Why, that’s what people say about me, and do you think I don’t know better! When ‘John Right’ comes along you’ll all see I’ve got just as much heart as any one else, but until he does—a short life and a merry one, say I! That’s how it will be with you, Lawrie. When Mary Jane Right turns up you’ll tear your hair—what there is of it—and stamp, and rave, and storm, just like any other love-sick male. Till then, if it pleases you to be cynical andblasé, and all that nonsense, why, be cynical andblasé; it doesn’t hurt any one else—in fact, it’s rather amusing,” and she rested her hand on his arm and looked into his face with roguish, laughing eyes. “I’d have just loved to have a brother,” she said, “but, like that nice old General Adair who wanted a son, I guess I’ve got the next best thing.”
So, in the end, Lawrence did not return to England, and nothing happened to avert the hard change for Paddy and Eileen and their mother.