"Ah!" James muttered, "he's a clever little chap." But he shook his head

shortly afterwards and remarked that he didn't know what would become of

him, and looking wistfully at his son, murmured on that Soames had

never had a boy. He would have liked a grandson of his own name. And

now--well, there it was!

Soames flinched. He had not expected such a challenge to disclose the

secret in his heart. And Emily, who saw him wince, said:

"Nonsense, James; don't talk like that!"

But James, not looking anyone in the face, muttered on. There were Roger

and Nicholas and Jolyon; they all had grandsons. And Swithin and Timothy

Advertisement..

had never married. He had done his best; but he would soon be gone now.

And, as though he had uttered words of profound consolation, he was

silent, eating brains with a fork and a piece of bread, and swallowing

the bread.

Soames excused himself directly after dinner. It was not really cold,

but he put on his fur coat, which served to fortify him against the

fits of nervous shivering to which he had been subject all day.

Subconsciously, he knew that he looked better thus than in an ordinary

black overcoat. Then, feeling the morocco case flat against his heart,

he sallied forth. He was no smoker, but he lit a cigarette, and smoked

it gingerly as he walked along. He moved slowly down the Row towards

Knightsbridge, timing himself to get to Chelsea at nine-fifteen. What

did she do with herself evening after evening in that little hole? How

mysterious women were! One lived alongside and knew nothing of them.

What could she have seen in that fellow Bosinney to send her mad? For

there was madness after all in what she had done--crazy moonstruck

madness, in which all sense of values had been lost, and her life

and his life ruined! And for a moment he was filled with a sort of

exaltation, as though he were a man read of in a story who, possessed by

the Christian spirit, would restore to her all the prizes of existence,

forgiving and forgetting, and becoming the godfather of her future.

Under a tree opposite Knightsbridge Barracks, where the moon-light

struck down clear and white, he took out once more the morocco case, and

let the beams draw colour from those stones. Yes, they were of the first

water! But, at the hard closing snap of the case, another cold shiver

ran through his nerves; and he walked on faster, clenching his gloved

hands in the pockets of his coat, almost hoping she would not be in. The

thought of how mysterious she was again beset him. Dining alone there

night after night--in an evening dress, too, as if she were making

believe to be in society! Playing the piano--to herself! Not even a dog

or cat, so far as he had seen. And that reminded him suddenly of the

mare he kept for station work at Mapledurham. If ever he went to the

stable, there she was quite alone, half asleep, and yet, on her home

journeys going more freely than on her way out, as if longing to be

back and lonely in her stable! 'I would treat her well,' he thought

incoherently. 'I would be very careful.' And all that capacity for

home life of which a mocking Fate seemed for ever to have deprived him

swelled suddenly in Soames, so that he dreamed dreams opposite South

Kensington Station. In the King's Road a man came slithering out of a

public house playing a concertina. Soames watched him for a moment dance

crazily on the pavement to his own drawling jagged sounds, then crossed

over to avoid contact with this piece of drunken foolery. A night in the

lock-up! What asses people were! But the man had noticed his movement

of avoidance, and streams of genial blasphemy followed him across the

street. 'I hope they'll run him in,' thought Soames viciously. 'To have

ruffians like that about, with women out alone!' A woman's figure in

front had induced this thought. Her walk seemed oddly familiar, and when

she turned the corner for which he was bound, his heart began to beat.

He hastened on to the corner to make certain. Yes! It was Irene; he

could not mistake her walk in that little drab street. She threaded two

more turnings, and from the last corner he saw her enter her block of

flats. To make sure of her now, he ran those few paces, hurried up the

stairs, and caught her standing at her door. He heard the latchkey in

the lock, and reached her side just as she turned round, startled, in

the open doorway.




Most Popular