XXIII
Mrs. Saumarez laughed bitterly.
"No," she said, "Billy cared for me, you know, a long time ago. Andthis morning he told me he still cared. Billy doesn't pretend to bea clever man, you see, and so he can afford to practice some of thebrute virtues, such as constancy and fidelity."
There was a challenging flame in her eyes, but Kennaston let the stabpass unnoticed. To do him justice, he was thinking less of himself,just now, than of how this news would affect Margaret; and his facewas very grave and strangely tender, for in his own fashion he lovedMargaret.
"It's nasty, very nasty," he said, at length, in a voice that waspuzzled. "Yet I could have sworn yesterday----" Kennaston paused andlaughed lightly. "She was an heiress yesterday, and to-day she isnobody. And Mr. Woods, being wealthy, can afford to gratify thevirtues you commend so highly and, with a fidelity that is mostedifying, return again to his old love. And she welcomes him--and theWoods millions--with open arms. It is quite affecting, is it not,Kathleen?"
"You needn't be disagreeable," she observed.
"My dear Kathleen, I assure you I am not angry. I am merely a littlesorry for human nature. I could have sworn Woods was honest. Butrogues all, rogues all, Kathleen! Money rules us in the end; and nowthe parable is fulfilled, and Love the prodigal returns to make merryover the calf of gold. Confess," Mr. Kennaston queried, with a smile,"is it not strange an all-wise Creator should have been at pains tofashion this brave world about us for little men and women such aswe to lie and pilfer in? Was it worth while, think you, to arch thefirmament above our rogueries, and light the ageless stars as candlesto display our antics? Let us be frank, Kathleen, and confess thatlife is but a trivial farce ignobly played in a very stately temple."And Mr. Kennaston laughed again.
"Let us be frank!" Kathleen cried, with a little catch in her voice."Why, it isn't in you to be frank, Felix Kennaston! Your life isnothing but a succession of poses--shallow, foolish poses meantto hoodwink the world and at times yourself. For you do hoodwinkyourself, don't you, Felix?" she asked, eagerly, and gave him no timeto answer. She feared, you see, lest his answer might dilapidate theone fortress she had been able to build about his honour.
"And now," she went on, quickly, "you're trying to make me think you adevil of a fellow, aren't you? And you're hinting that I've acceptedBilly because of his money, aren't you? Well, it is true that Iwouldn't marry him if he were poor. But he's very far from being poor.And he cares for me. And I am fond of him. And so I shall marry himand make him as good a wife as I can. So there!"
Mrs. Saumarez faced him with an uneasy defiance. He was smiling oddly.
"I have heard it rumoured in many foolish tales and jingling verses,"said Kennaston, after a little, "that a thing called love exists inthe world. And I have also heard, Kathleen, that it sometimes entersinto the question of marriage. It appears that I was misinformed."
"No," she answered, slowly, "there is a thing called love. I thinkwomen are none the better for knowing it. To a woman, it means to takesome man--some utterly commonplace man, perhaps--perhaps, only an idle_poseur_ such as you are, Felix--and to set him up on a pedestal, andto bow down and worship him; and to protest loudly, both to the worldand to herself, that in spite of all appearances her idol reallyhasn't feet of clay, or that, at any rate, it is the very nicest clayin the world. For a time she deceives herself, Felix. Then the idoltopples from the pedestal and is broken, and she sees that it is allclay, Felix--clay through and through--and her heart breaks with it."
Kennaston bowed his head. "It is true," said he; "that is the love ofwomen."
"To a man," she went on, dully, "it means to take some woman--thenearest woman who isn't actually deformed--and to make pretty speechesto her and to make her love him. And after a while--" Kathleenshrugged her shoulders drearily. "Why, after a while," said she, "hegrows tired and looks for some other woman."
"It is true," said Kennaston--"yes, very true that some men love inthat fashion."
There ensued a silence. It was a long silence, and under the tensionof it Kathleen's composure snapped like a cord that has been stretchedto the breaking point.
"Yes, yes, yes!" she cried, suddenly; "that is how I have loved youand that is how you've loved me, Felix Kennaston! Ah, Billy told mewhat happened last night! And that--that was why I--" Mrs. Saumarezpaused and regarded him curiously. "You don't make a very noblefigure, just now, do you?" she asked, with careful deliberation. "Youwere ready to sell yourself for Miss Hugonin's money, weren't you? Andnow you must take her without the money. Poor Felix! Ah, you poor,petty liar, who've over-reached yourself so utterly!" And againKathleen began to laugh, but somewhat shrilly, somewhat hysterically.
"You are wrong," he said, with a flush. "It is true that I asked MissHugonin to marry me. But she--very wisely, I dare say--declined."
"Ah!" Kathleen said, slowly. Then--and it will not do to inquire tooclosely into her logic--she spoke with considerable sharpness: "She'sa conceited little cat! I never in all my life knew a girl to be quiteso conceited as she is. Positively, I don't believe she thinks there'sa man breathing who's good enough for her!"
Kennaston grinned. "Oh, Kathleen, Kathleen!" he said; "you are simplydelicious."
And Mrs. Saumarez coloured prettily and tried to look severe andcould not, for the simple reason that, while she knew Kennaston to beflippant and weak and unstable as water and generally worthless, yetfor some occult cause she loved him as tenderly as though he had beena paragon of all the manly virtues. And I dare say that for many of usit is by a very kindly provision of Nature that all women are createdcapable of doing this illogical thing and that most of them do itdaily.
"It is true," the poet said, at length, "that I have played no heroicpart. And I don't question, Kathleen, that I am all you think me. Yet,such as I am, I love you. And such as I am, you love me, and it is Ithat you are going to marry, and not that Woods person."
"He's worth ten of you!" she cried, scornfully.
"Twenty of me, perhaps," Mr. Kennaston assented, "but that isn't thequestion. You don't love him, Kathleen. You are about to marry him forhis money. You are about to do what I thought to do yesterday. But youwon't, Kathleen. You know that I need you, my dear, and--unreasonablyenough, God knows--you love me."
Mrs. Saumarez regarded him intently for a considerable space, andduring that space the Eagle warred in her heart with the one foehe can never conquer. Love had a worthless ally; but Love foughtstaunchly.
By and bye, "Yes," she said, and her voice was almost sullen; "I loveyou. I ought to love Billy, but I don't. I shall ask him to release mefrom my engagement. And yes, I will marry you if you like."
He raised her hand to his lips. "You are an angel," Mr. Kennaston waspleased to say.
"No," Mrs. Saumarez dissented, rather forlornly; "I'm simply a fool.Otherwise, I wouldn't be about to marry you, knowing you as I do forwhat you are--knowing that I haven't one chance in a hundred of anyhappiness."
"My dear," he said, and his voice was earnest, "you know at least thatwhat there is of good in me is at its best with you."
"Yes, yes!" Kathleen cried, quickly. "That is so, isn't it, Felix?And you do care for me, don't you? Felix, are you sure you care forme--quite sure? And are you quite certain, Felix, that you never caredso much for any one else?"
Mr. Kennaston was quite certain. He proceeded to explain his feelingstoward her at some length.
Kathleen listened with downcast eyes and almost cheated herself intothe belief that the man she loved was all that he should be. But atthe bottom of her heart she knew he wasn't.
I think we may fairly pity her.
Kennaston and Mrs. Saumarez chatted very amicably for some tenminutes. At the end of that period, the twelve forty-five expressbellowing faintly in the distance recalled the fact that the morningmail was in, and thereupon, in the very best of humours, they setout for the house. I grieve to admit it, but Kathleen had utterlyforgotten Billy by this, and was no more thinking of him than she waso
f the Man in the Iron Mask.
She was with Kennaston, you see; and her thoughts, and glances, andlips, and adoration were all given to his pleasuring, just as her lifewould have been if its loss could have saved him from a toothache. Hestrutted a little, and was a little grateful to her, and--to dohim justice--received the tribute she accorded him with perfectsatisfaction and equanimity.