CHAPTER V
THE DIE IS CAST
On Sunday morning she and Leslie went to Church.
In the afternoon they walked again, aimlessly. She felt that she wasonly living until Monday, until his return to tell her something. In theevening the two girls sat out on a seat on Parliament Hill; near wherethe man with the standing telescope used to offer peeps at London for apenny a time. Far, far below, lay London under her web of twinklinglights. London, England's heart, with that silver ribbon of the riverrunning through it. Leslie looked away over that prospect as though shehad never seen it before. Little Gwenna turned from it to the view onthe other side--the grass spaces and the trees towards Hendon. Shethought, "On a night as clear as this, aeroplanes could easily go up,even late."
As the two girls reached the Club again they found a motor drawn upbeside the entrance. Steps came out of the darkness behind them. A man'svoice said "Miss Long." Leslie turned.
There moved into the light of the street-lamp Hugo Swayne. His face,somehow, had never looked less like an imitation of Chopin; or more likean ordinary commonplace Englishman's. It was serious, set. Yet it wasexultant. For he, too, was a soldier's son.
He spoke. "I say, I thought I'd bring you the news," he began gravely."It's all right. England goes in."
"Is that official?" Leslie asked sharply.
There was a shaky little "War?" from Gwenna.
Then came other, quick steps on the asphalt path, and the girls saw overHugo's rather portly shoulder a taller, slighter figure coming up theroad behind him.
It was hatless; the lamplight shone golden on its blonde head. Gwenna'sheart leaped to her lips.
"Paul!" she cried, and made a running step towards him. In a momentyoung Dampier was up with the others; the quartette standing as they hadstood on that spring night in this same place, after the Smiths'dinner-party. There were hasty greetings, murmurs of "Not official?"
"Ah, that's all right----"
"They won't say for a day or so, but----"
Then, clear and distinct, young Dampier's boyish voice rang out in acurious announcement. "Glad _you're_ here, Hugo. I was coming to you. Iwant to borrow rather a lot of money of you, at once. Forty pounds, Ithink it is. Sorry. Must have it. It's for a marriage-licence!"
Hugo, utterly taken aback, stared and murmured, "My dearchap---- Certain---- A m----?"
"Yes. I shall have to be off, you know. Of course. And I shall getmarried before I go," announced Paul Dampier, brusquely. He turned asbrusquely to the girl.
"You and I are going to get married by special licence," he told her,"the day after to-morrow."