CHAPTER XXXII
THE next evening, Lee rose abruptly from her seat between Mrs. Yorba and Mrs. Trennahan, who had dined with them, and walked hastily over to Randolph who sat alone in a corner of the verandah.
“Did you send Cecil to the Santa Lucia Mountains hoping that he would be killed?” she demanded.
“What do you take me for?—the ten-cent villain in the melodrama? He’s got the strength and the nerve of two men, and I’ve written to Joe Mann not to leave him for an instant. His precious skin is safe enough. I merely wanted to show you what you had to expect if you married him—a correct but unflattering glimpse of your power over him.”
“You did it on purpose?”
“I did it on purpose; and the infantile manner in which he walked into the trap, and turned himself inside out, was really delicious.”
“It’s because he’s as honest and straightforward as—as your grandfather was. You are a horrid tricky American!”
Randolph brought his teeth together, but he answered: “All’s fair in love. Moreover, if I were entirely out of the question, I should studyyour interests as I should those of my sister. You are not married yet. Think it over carefully before he comes back.”
“Do you suppose I’d break my engagement? I’ve given him my word, and it’s announced.”
“If you had engaged yourself to me before Maundrell came, would you not have thrown me over?”
“Yes, I would.”
“Your femininity is your greatest charm—to me. Its somewhat anarchistic quality may not commend itself to Cecil Maundrell. Better think it over.”
“You can plot all you like, but I’d marry Cecil Maundrell if he went after grizzlies every month in the year.”
She had passed through several phases since that morning, when she had risen at four to see her future lord depart. The strong passion of her nature responded with sensuous delight to the heavy hand of the master; she was primal woman first, and American after. But she was American “all the same,” she reminded herself with a proper pride. She was willing to excuse Cecil from buttoning her boots, but she would have liked him to manifest a natural desire to kiss her slipper. Of the strength of his passion she had no misgivings, but she was too clear-sighted to permit herself to hope that idolatry had any part in it. And if she had a primal instinct for submission to the worshipped strength of the male, she had quite as strong an instinct for her own way. Not only had the conditions of her life fostered a tenacious will, but she inherited a love of power and adulation from amother and a grandmother to whom the neck of man was a familiar footstool.
Two days later Tiny arrived with Lord Arrowmount and the Honourable Charles Edward Richard Thornton, the last in the arms of his nurse. Tiny was as pretty and as placid as ever, and Lord Arrowmount, if not so pretty, was quite as placid, and as silent as of yore. The note of command was not manifest in his voice, and it was evident that he was not on the alert.
“Have you adapted yourself?” asked Lee that night.
Tiny smiled her old inscrutable smile. “He thinks I have, so it amounts to quite the same thing.”
“I wish I could manage things that way, but I can’t. Cecil is horribly clever, and I don’t take things calmly.”
“It is all a matter of temperament, of course. Try and not expect too much, and it will be easier. An Englishman simply won’t keep on telling you that he loves you—”
“Mine will, or there’ll be trouble.”
“They’re so lazy about talking. I’m afraid he won’t. It’s pure laziness that has made them clip so many names, and throw all their accents backward, fairly swallowing the last syllables. When they’ve told you once they love you, they don’t see why you can’t take it for granted ever after, and when one gets over that I’m positive they are the most agreeable husbands in the world. They give so little trouble, and take such good care of one,and do all the thinking. Arthur is the most comfortable person. He is generous, and has no temper at all if he is not crossed, and is more than willing to think me quite perfect because I always look pretty, and never contradict him, and entertain all his stupid shooting friends without a grimace.”
“What do you get out of it all?”
“Those things can’t be analysed; he suits me. I am really very fond of him. I love people who are good-tempered and not nervous, and can be awfully fond of one without making a fuss about it. I love him well enough to bore myself in a good many ways, but I have this compensation—I can make him do anything I choose.We spend every winter where I want to spend it, and he’s none the wiser. I entertain his friends in the summer and autumn, but I have my own in town, and we always go to at least three houses that I like.”
“It is evident that Cecil and I will have to work out our own problem.”
He returned in two weeks and two days with his grizzly’s skin—a huge, hideous, and ill-favoured trophy. Lee lifted her delicate nose, and drew away her skirts, but assured him warmly that she was quite as delighted as he was, and so proud of him she feared every one would laugh at her.
“Trennahan got the other, but mine was the biggest,” he said intensely. “It’s a long and exciting story. The old chap nearly got me. Let me go and clean up, and then we’ll go for a walk, and I’ll tell you all about it. And that’s the least of what I have to tell you.”
They went for their walk, and there was no doubt left in Lee’s mind that he had been in a hurry to get back to her, although he had waited until his grizzly’s skin was peppered and dried. Her doubts went to rest, and she was happy.
They were married on the first of July, in the library, in the presence of the family and intimate friends. Coralie returned in time to be bridesmaid and to bring the wedding-dress and veil,—in which Lee looked so lovely, that, as she entered the room on Randolph’s arm, Cecil put his hands suddenly into his pockets, as was his habit when his nervous fingers betrayed him. His face was impassive, and he went through the ceremony very creditably. So did Randolph.
After the wedding-breakfast, the newly-wed, amidst showers of rice, started for the redwoods on horseback. Mr. Trennahan had offered his house, and their luggage had gone the day before. Their host had asked them to remain indefinitely, as he and his wife purposed to pass the summer at Lake Tahoe. They took the house for a fortnight. They remained a month.
As soon as they had gone, Randolph went to town, saying he could not return until the next day. He pleaded business, and his mother, who had watched him closely, was satisfied. He spent the night in a private room of a fashionable saloon, before a small table, drinking—drinking—drinking, his face growing whiter, the fire in his brain hotter, his ideas more lucid. Once he took a letter from his pocket and re-read it. It notified him thatthe Peruvian mine in which he had invested was several times richer than had been anticipated, and that a syndicate would offer him a million dollars for his interest. He tore the letter to strips. When the dawn came he was still sober.