CHAPTER VI
THERE WAS SOMEBODY
Two worlds and half a dozen industries had conspired to shower gold onCalder Wentworth's head. There was land in the family, brought by hisgrandmother; there was finance on the paternal side (whence came aPortuguese title, carefully eschewed by Calder); there had been aLondon street, half a watering-place, a South African mine, and thebetter part of an American railway. The street and the watering-placeremained; the mine and the railway had been sold at the top of themarket. About the same time the family name became Wentworth--it hadbeen Stripes, which was felt to be absurd--and the family itself beganto take an exalted place in society. The rise was the easier because,when old Mr. Stripes-Wentworth died, young Mr. Calder S. Wentworthbecame the only representative; and a rich young bachelor can riselightly to heights inaccessible to the feet of less happily situatedfolk. It seemed part of Providence's benevolence that when LadyForteville asked how many 'Stripes women' there were, the answer couldbe 'None'; whereupon the countess at once invited Mr. Calder Wentworthto dinner. Calder went, and rolled his frog's eyes with much amusementwhen the lady asked him to what Wentworths he belonged, for, as heobserved to Miss Glyn, whom he had the pleasure of escorting, hisWentworths were an entirely new brand, and Lady Forteville knew it aswell as if she had read the letters patent and invented thecoat-of-arms.
"Mr. Wentworth--Mr. Merceron," said Victor Sutton, with a wave of hishand.
"I believe I know an uncle of yours--an uncommon clever fellow," saidCalder, unfolding his napkin and glancing round the dining-room of theThemis Club.
"Oh, Uncle Van? Yes, we consider him our----"
"Leading article? Quite so. I've heard a bit about you too--somethingabout a canoe, eh?"
Charlie looked somewhat disturbed.
"Oughtn't Sutton to have told me? Well, it's too late now because I'vetold half a dozen fellows."
"But there's nothing to tell."
"Well, I told it to old Thrapston--you don't know him, do you?Cunningest old boy in London. Upon my honor, you know, I shouldn't liketo be like old Thrapston, not when I was getting old, you know. He'stoo----"
"Well, what did he say?" asked Victor.
"He said what you never had the sense to see, my boy; but I expect Mr.Merceron won't be obliged to me for repeating it."
"I should like to hear it," said Charlie, with necessary politeness.
"Well, it's not me, its old Thrapston; and if you say it's wrong, I'llbelieve yon. Old Thrapston--hang it, Victor, that old man ought to behanged! Why, only the other day I saw him----"
"Do stick to the point," groaned Victor.
"All right. Well, he said, 'I'll lay a guinea there was a'--and hewinked his sinful old eye, you know, for all the world like awhat-d'ye-call-it in a cathedral one of those hideous--I say, what isthe word, Victor? I saw 'em when Agatha took me--beg pardon, Merceron?"
Was the world full of Agathas? If so, it would be well not to startwhenever one was mentioned. Charlie recovered himself.
"I think you must mean a gargoyle," he said, wondering who this Agathamight be.
"Of course I do. Fancy forgetting that! Gargoyle, of course. Well, oldThrapston said, 'I'll lay a guinea there was a woman in that dashedsummer house, Calder, my boy.'"
Victor Button's eyes lighted with a gleam,
"Well, I'm hanged if I ever thought of that! Charlie, you held us all!"
"Bosh!" said Charlie Merceron. "There was no one there."
"All right. But there ought to have been, you know--to give interest tothe position."
"Honor bright, Charlie?" asked Victor Sutton.
"Shut up, Sutton," interposed Calder, "He's not in the Divorce Court,Let's change the subject."
Charlie was in a difficulty, but the better course seemed to be toallow the subject to be changed, in spite of the wink that accompaniedCalder's suggestion.
"All right," said Victor. "How is Miss Glyn, Wentworth?"
"Oh, she's all right. She's been in the country for a bit, but she'sback now."
"And when is the happy event to be?"
Calder laid down his knife and fork and remarked deliberately:
"I haven't, my dear boy, the least idea."
"I should hurry her up," laughed Sutton.
"I'd just like--now I should just like to put you in my shoes for halfan hour, and see you hurry up Agatha."
"She couldn't eat me."
"Eat you? No, but she'd flatten you out so that you'd go under thatdoor and leave room for the jolly draught there is all the same."
Sutton laughed complacently.
"Well, you're a patient man," he observed. "For my part, I like a thingto be off or on."
It came to Charlie Merceron almost as a surprise to find that Victor'simpudence--he could call it by no other name--was not reserved for hisjuniors or for young men from the country; but Calder took it quitegood-humoredly, contenting himself with observing, "Well, it was verysoon off in your case, wasn't it, old fellow?"
Sutton flushed.
"I've told you before that that's not true," he said angrily.
Calder laughed.
"All right, all right. We used to think, once upon a time, Merceron,you know, that old Victor here was a bit smitten himself; but he hasn'tdrugged my champagne yet, so of course, as he says, it was all amistake."
After dinner the three separated. Victor had to go to a party. CalderWentworth proposed to Charlie that they should take a stroll togetherwith a view to seeing whether, when they came opposite to the door of amusic-hall, they would 'feel like' dropping in to see part of theentertainment. Charlie agreed, and, having lit their cigars, they setout. He found his now friend amusing, and Calder, for his part, took aliking for Charlie, largely on account of his good looks; like manyplain people, he was extremely sensitive to the influence of beauty inwomen and men alike.
"I say, old fellow," he said, pressing Charlie's arm as if he had knownhim all his life, "there was somebody in that summer-house, eh?"
Charlie turned with a smile and a blush. He felt confidential.
"Yes, there was, only Victor----"
"Oh, I know. I nearly break his head whenever he mentions any girl Ilike."
"You know what he'd have thought--and it wasn't anything like thatreally."
"Who was she, then?"
"I--I don't know."
"Oh, I don't mean her name, of course. But what was she?"
"I don't know."
"Where did she come from?"
"London, I believe."
"Oh! I say, that's a queer go, Merceron."
"I don't know what to think about it. She's simply vanished," said poorCharlie, and no one should wonder if his voice faltered a little.Calder Wentworth laughed at many things, but he did not laugh now atCharlie Merceron. Indeed he looked unusually grave.
"I should drop it," he remarked. "It don't look--well--healthy."
"Ah, you've never seen her," said Charlie.
"No, and I tell you what--it won't be a bad thing if you don't see heragain."
"Why?"
"Because you're just in the state of mind to marry her."
"And why shouldn't I?"
Mr. Wentworth made no answer, and they walked on till they readiedPiccadilly Circus. Then Charlie suddenly darted forward.
"Hullo, what's up?" cried Calder, following him.
Charlie was talking eagerly to a very smart young lady who had just gotdown from an omnibus.
"By Jove! he can't have found, her!" thought Calder.
It was not the unknown, but her friend Nettie Wallace, whom Charlie'squick eye had discerned; and the next moment Willie Prime made hisappearance. Charlie received them both almost with enthusiasm, and thenews from Lang Marsh was asked and given. Calder drew near, and Charliepresented his friends to one another with the intent that he might geta word with Nettie while Calder engrossed her fiances attention.
"Have--have you heard from Miss Brown lately?" he was just beginning,when Calder, who had been l
ooking steadily at Nettie, burst out:
"Hullo, I say, Miss Wallace, we've met before, haven't we? You know me,don't you?"
Nettie laughed.
"Oh, yes, I know you, sir. You're---"
She paused abruptly, and glanced from Charlie to Calder, and back fromCalder to Charlie. Then she blushed very red indeed.
"Well, who am I?"
"I--I saw you at--at Miss Glyn's, Mr. Wentworth."
"'Course you did--that's it;" and, looking curiously at the girl'sflushed face, he added: "Don't be afraid to mention Miss Glyn; Mr.Merceron knows all about it."
"All about it, does he, sir?" cried Nettie. "Well, I'm glad of that. Ihaven't been easy in my mind ever since."
Calder's conformation of eye enabled him to express much surprise byfacial expression, and at this moment he used his power to the full.
"Awfully kind of you, Miss Wallace," said he, "but I don't see whereyour responsibility comes in. Ever since what?"
Nettie shot a glance of inquiry at Charlie, but here too she met onlybewilderment.
"Does he know that Miss Glyn is---" she began.
"Engaged to me? Certainly."
"Oh!"
Willie stood by in silence. He had never heard of this Miss Glyn.Charlie, puzzled as he was, was too intent on Miss Brown to spend muchtime wondering why Miss Glyn's affairs should have been a trouble toNettie.
"You'll let me know if you hear about her, won't you?" he asked in alow voice.
Nettie gave up the hope of understanding. She shook her head.
"I'll ask her, if I see her, whether she wishes it," she whisperedback; and, with a hasty good-night, she seized Willie's arm and hurriedhim off. Charlie was left alone with Calder.
"What the deuce did she mean?" asked Calder.
"I don't know," answered Charlie.
"Where did you meet her?"
"Oh, down at home. The fellow she was with is a son of a tenant ofours; she's going to marry him."
"She's a nice little girl, but I'm hanged if I know what she meant."
And, as the one was thinking exclusively of Agatha Glyn, and the otherspared a thought for no one but Agatha Brown, they did not arrive at anexplanation.
One result, however, that chance encounter had. The next morning MissAgatha Glyn received a letter in the following terms:
"Madam:--I hope you will excuse me intruding, but I think you wouldwish to know that Mr. Charles Merceron is in London, and that I met himthis evening with Mr. Wentworth. As you informed me that you had passedMr. Merceron on the road two or three times during your visit to LangMarsh, I think you may wish to be informed of the above. I may add thatMr. Merceron is aware that you are engaged to Mr. Wentworth, but Icould not make out how far he was aware of what happened at Lang Marsh.I think he does not know it. Of course you will know whether Mr.Wentworth is aware of your visit there. I should be much obliged if youwould be so kind as to tell me what to say if I meet the gentlemenagain. Mr. Merceron is very pressing in asking me for news of you. I amto be married in a fortnight from the present date, and I am, Madam,yours respectfully, Nettie Wallace."
"In London, and with Calder!" exclaimed Agatha Glyn. "Oh dear! oh dear!oh dear! What is to be done? I wish I'd never gone near the wretchedplace!"
Then she took up the letter and reread it.
"He and I mustn't meet, that's all," she said.
Then she slowly tore the letter into very small pieces and put them inthe waste-paper basket.
"Calder has no idea where I was," she said, and she sat down by thewindow and looked out over the Park for nearly ten minutes.
"Ah, well! I should like to see him just once again. Dear old Pool."said she.
Then she suddenly began to laugh--an action only to be excused in onein her position, and burdened with her sins, by the fact of her havingat the moment a peculiarly vivid vision of Millie Bushell going headfirst out of a canoe.