XI
"You are not looking well this morning," said Trennahan, solicitously,about twelve hours after he had appeared in the ball-room. He had justentered the Yorbas' private parlour.
"Neither do you," replied Magdalena.
"I sat up late with some of the men, and slept ill after."
Magdalena raised her eyes and looked at him steadily. "You have fallenin love with Helena," she said.
"What nonsense! My dear child, what are you talking about? Miss Belmontasked me to take her to the conservatory; and as I do not dance, and asyou do, and as she announced her intention of not dancing again, and isa very entertaining young woman, I decided to remain there. If ourengagement had been made known, of course I should have done nothing ofthe sort. But as it was--"
"You turned white when you first saw her. Alan Rush looked just likethat. Now he is mad about her."
"I am not Alan Rush, nor any other boy of twenty-five. The man you haveelected to marry, and who is not half good enough for you, as I havetold you many times, is a seasoned person past middle age, my dearest. Icould not go off my head over a pretty face if I tried. My day for thatis long past."
He spoke vehemently.
"You never looked at me like that."
"Doubtless my pallor was due to some such unromantic cause as anextremely bad dinner."
"I have seen that look several times. Alan Rush is not the only one. AndHelena is no doll. She has every fascination."
"Possibly. Shall we go for our walk? I am most anxious to see those oldhouses and graves."
He did not offer to kiss her. She was too proud to take up woman's usualrefrain. She put on her hat, and they left the hotel, and walked towardthe town.
"I believe the cemetery comes first," she said. "I have made inquiries.We can see the town from there, and go on afterward--if you like."
"Of course I like. How good of you to wait for me! I know you have beenlonging for the town which I am convinced is a part of your verypersonality."
"Yes, I have been longing. I don't care much about it this morning."
"Which of your heroines is buried in the cemetery?"
"Benicia Ortega, La Tulita, and some of aunt's old friends."
"You must certainly write those old stories. I often think of them."
"Nothing that you say this morning sounds like the truth."
"My dear girl! I am dull and stupid after a sleepless night. And thenight after you left I sat up until two in the morning writing importantletters."
"I think it was disloyal of Helena."
"I must rush to her defence. She did not know until the end of theevening who I was. She took me for one of the several Easterners whoarrived to-day. Two of them brought letters to her father from Mr.Forbes. One was the son of an old friend. As her father presented me--"
Magdalena faced about. "And you did not tell her? You did not speak ofme?"
"I am going to be perfectly frank, knowing how sensible you are. I had adesperate flirtation with your friend, as desperate and meaningless asthose things always are; for it is merely an invention to pass the idlerhours of society. There was nothing else to do, so we flirted. It addedto the zest to keep her in ignorance of my identity. It was a sillypastime, but better than nothing. I should far rather have been in bed.If I could have talked to you, it would have been quite another matter."
Magdalena hurried on ahead. He had the tact not to accelerate his ownsteps. After a time she fell back. She said,--
"What is this 'flirtation,' anyhow? I have heard nothing but'flirtation' all winter, and I heard a good deal of it last summer. ButI have not the slightest idea what it means. What do you do?"
"Do? Oh--I--it is impossible to define flirtation. You must have theinstinct to understand. Then you wouldn't ask. Thank Heaven you neverwill understand. Flirtation is to love-making what soda-water is tochampagne. I can think of no better definition than that."
"Did you kiss Helena?"
"Good God, no! That's not flirtation. She is not the sort that would letme if I wished."
"Did you hold her hand?"
"I have held no woman's hand but yours for an incalculable time."
"Did you tell her that you loved her?"
"Certainly not!"
"I must say I can't see how a flirtation differs from an ordinaryconversation."
"It only does in that subtle something which cannot be explained."
Magdalena had an inspiration. "Perhaps you talk with your eyes some."
"Well, you are not altogether wrong. Did you ever see a fencing match?Imagine two invisible personalities dodging and doubling, springing anddarting. That will give you some idea. And all without a flutter ofpassion or real interest. It is good exercise for the lighter wits, butstupid at best." He did not add that the very essence of flirtation isits promise of more to come.
It was some time before Magdalena spoke again. Then she asked,--
"What did Helena say when you told her your name?"
"I believe she said, 'Great Heaven!'"
"I think this must be the cemetery."
They ascended the rough hill, and pushed their way through weeds andthistles and wild oats to the dilapidated stones under the oaks.Magdalena had imagined her conflicting emotions when she visited thegraves of her youthful heroines; among other things the delightful senseof unreality. But the unreality was of another sort to-day. They were apart of an insignificant past. Trennahan elevated one foot to a massivestone and plucked the "stickers" from his trousers.
"This is all very romantic," he said, "but these confounded things areuncomfortable. Have you found your graves?"
"I think this is Benicia's. We can go if you like."
"By no means." He went and leaned over the sunken grey stone whichrecorded the legend of Benicia Ortega's brief life and tragic death,then insisted upon finding the others.
"You don't take any interest," said Magdalena. "Why do you pretend?"
He caught her in his arms and seated her on the highest and driest ofthe tombs, then sat beside her. He kept his arm about her, but he didnot kiss her. "Come now," he said, "let us have it out. We must notquarrel. I humble myself to the dust. I vow to be a saint. I will notexchange two consecutive sentences with your friend in the future. Makeme promise all sorts of things."
"If you love her, you can't help yourself."
"I have no intention of loving her. Perhaps you will be as sweet andsensible as you always are, and not say anything so absurd again. I amdeeply sorry that I have offended you. Will you believe that? And willyou forgive me?"
"Do you mean that you still wish to marry me?"
"Great Heaven, 'Lena! Even if my head were turned, do you think that Ihave not brains enough to remember that that sort of thing is a matterof the hour only, and that I am a man of honour? I have no lessintention of marrying you to-day than I had yesterday. Does that satisfyyou? And--since you take it so hardly--I wish I might never see MissBelmont again."
Magdalena raised her eyes; they were full of tears. Her hat was pushedback, her soft hair ruffled. In the deep shade of the oaks and with thepassion in her face she looked prettier than he had ever seen her. Akiss sprang to her lips. He bent his head swiftly and caught it; andthen he was delighted at the depth of his penitence.
* * * * *
"'Lena, you ought to hate me, but I didn't know! I swear I didn't!"
"I know you did not. He told me that it was entirely his fault, and Ihave forgiven him; so don't let us say any more about it."
"Well, I am glad he admitted that. I'm pretty selfish, as I've neverdenied, but I'd never be disloyal. Not to you, anyhow," she added onsecond thoughts. "I shouldn't mind Ila so much, nor Caro."
"You don't mean to say you would take any girl's lover away from her,Helena?"
"Yes, I would if I wanted him badly. But I'd do it right out before herface. I'd never be underhand about it. I loathe deceit. I was furiousfor a time with Mr. Trennahan last night, but I r
eally believe I wasmore furious because he was the most interesting man I had ever met andI couldn't have him, than because he hadn't behaved quite properly."
Magdalena reached her right hand to a bow on her left shoulder, thatHelena should not see the sudden leap of her heart. "Do you mean to saythat you had--had intended to--to--add him to the quartette?"
"I had had a very definite idea of turning the entire quartette out inhis favour. I don't mind telling you that, because wild horses couldn'tmake me so much as flirt an eyelash at him again; and of course it wasonly one of my passing fancies. Nothing goes very deep with me. I'm madeon a magnificent plan. So is he. We'll both have forgotten last eveningbefore the end of the week. I hate the morning after a ball, don't you?One always feels so devitalised. Wasn't Ila's gown disgracefully low?And the way some girls roll their eyes is positively sickening. Let's goout and get a breath of air."