The following Friday afternoon Lorraine went out with Flip Denton in his motor, and among his first questions was:
"Well, how is the foolish falling in love progressing?"
"It is stationary. I've got another friend I want to keep, Flip; another friend like you."
"Ah, I can't pass that. You were never even remotely in sight of fal ing in love with me. And you know what Kipling says: 'Love's like line-work; you can't stand stil , you must go backward or forward.'
You don't propose to take my advice and run away from it?"
"Not before I am sure there is danger, anyhow."
They were silent some moments, then she asked him:
"Do men ever run away, Flip?... My experience has been that the average man always has a good try to get what he wants, without much consideration for outside things, or for youth, or for harm."
"That's because beautiful women necessarily come up against the worst in men. It is their fate: one of the balancing conditions perhaps to make things more even with the less-favoured women."
"I suppose great beauty general y undoes a woman. Is it the same with men too? It seems a pity when Nature produces anything beautiful she should not guard it better - beautiful flowers, beautiful birds, beautiful creatures al ravished the quickest; while the little, comfortable daisies, and sparrows, and homely people go serenely on unharmed."
He did not reply, and they sped along in the understanding silence they were both so fond of.
Denton was thinking, as a man may, of various pretty faces that had been the undoing of their owners, and wondering a little dimly and confusedly about the paradoxical contrariness of Nature, who gives a man his strongest desires nearly always towards forbidden ends. Why create a beautiful thing, and then create a longing for it, and then probably descend in wrath upon both heads which did but follow the bent she herself had given them?
Lorraine was wondering a little bitterly why a man may taste forbidden fruit again and again and go unpunished; and why a woman, so often set amid sterner temptations, was yet left so strangely unprotected: the one so quickly able to put an incident aside, and seek fresh fields for conquest; the other so terribly liable to be branded for life in that same incident.
It made a bitterness surge up in her soul for her own unprotected girlhood and struggling youth; and for all they had brought her to learn of the tree of knowledge. No doubt she had been cal ous enough about it at the time; eager only to dare, and triumph, and achieve; but how should it have been otherwise, since no kindly guiding hand had told her she was wasting her powers and her substance to achieve an end that would never satisfy her soul?
Did she even know she had a soul that would presently crave a satisfaction found only among the higher and better things, and turn away with infinite scorn from the petty triumphs of an hour or a day?
Well, she had fought her fight with the rest, and triumphed greatly in the world's eyes; and now she must abide by the path she had chosen, and glean the best satisfaction she could out of it.
And yet -
Later in the afternoon, when she sat drinking a lonely cup of tea by a lonely fireside, the questioning, probing mood returned again; the significant "and yet" stil left the last conclusion without any finality. Looking backward, a sense of resentment seemed to creep over her; a combative desire to get even with Fate about many things while there was time nd opportunity.
She remembered particularly the first man who had tried to lead her astray. He had been considerably more than twice her age, a hardened sinner without any compunction, with a devilish cunning at breaking down defences without any seeming over-persuasion, and at whitewashing his actions into passionate devotion to youngn inexperienced years.
She remembered how she had struggled to resist him. It was good to remember now that she had not been his victim.
And yet, what of it, while such men could triumph again and again and go seemingly unpunished, and young, eager, ambitious souls were often so pitifully stranded at the beginning of a career?
Men of his age and his character usually did triumph. How often had she seen it since! The first wrong step not a generous-hearted, hot-headed youth; but a hardened sinner who had wearied of other hardened sinners and turned his evil designs to youth and freshness, hoping perchance to be rejuvenated thereby.
And Nature stood by with folded hands, and saw her fairest creations soiled and ravished before they had reached maturity, without apparently the smal est compunction.
Her first wrong step had been her marriage, and though it had given her a good deal in the beginning, in the end how it had robbed her!... ah!
how it had robbed her of those things that could never be won back.
And now, by an unlooked-for turn of events, she found herself among the world-wearied ones, asking for the divine freshness of youth. If she chose to make him love her she believed she could.
And yet? -
She stood beside the window and leaned her haid against the framework, gazing at the river. It was gliding smoothly along now, beautified and glorified by the reflected light of a setting sun. How light transfigured!
The murky, muddy, sul en Thames, so often going with its countless burdens, as one enslaved unwil ingly to the needs of commerce, now flashing, shining, silver waters hastening joyful y out to sea. She felt that often and often her life had been as the shadowed, murky waters, enslaved unwillingly by bonds that circumstances had created.
She thought how his life, the life of this man who was beginning to fill her soul, was still like the joyous, shining, waters reflecting sunlight. Was it possible she wanted to bring the shadows and dim its silver radiance for her own gratifications?
And even so, was it in any case likely to go undimmed much longer? The shadows were certain enough to come, if not through her, perhaps through some one with less soul, and less fineness of aim, who would do him far greater harm. Her love for him was not, at least, entirely selfish.
She knew that she cared very much for his future. She cared very much that life should give him a chance to fulfil the best of his promise.
And if the chance came by shadows, wel , across the river of a man's life they flitted lightly enough as a rule, chasing each other away, and leaving the waters still flowing joyful y. It was only for a woman, apparently, the shadows left a stain that even the sunlight could not chase away.
It would seem woman was made a helpmeet for man in many ways beside that of keeping his home and bearing his children. How often dit he owe his best development and best achievements to her, absorbing light from her in some mysterious ordering, and soaring away afterwards while she was left among the shadows.
Yet, by some equal y mysterious compensation, a woman was often so fashioned that if she could feel the upward flight was won through her, she might rest statisfied even though him she loved had soared away.
It was the mother-love blending strangely with the wife-love; the protecting, inspiring, unselfish, mothering instinct, lying in the soul of every true-hearted woman.
Standing gazing at the flashing river, Lorraine, in the midst of her probing, knew that it was his ultimate success and good she wanted, as wel as his freshness to sweeten her own life.
And yet? -
What if she brought a shadow where there would otherwise have been no shadow, dimmed a brightness that, without her, had gone undimmed? She knew he was not weak naturally. He did not need any strengthening; only impetus, ambition, aim, and some safeguarding by the way.
She smiled a little drearily at the recollection that it was from her, herself, that probably his own people would think he needed safeguarding. She could foresee that they would likely enough hurl themselves between him and her, oblivious that by doing so they might very possibly be the cause of driving him to far worse. But that, of course, no one could help; as how should they know the fine shades between the women who lived outside the conventions?
But then again, they need not know that the great friendship existed -
why should they? After all, few would credit the celebrated, beautiful actress with anything beyond a passing fancy for the youthful, briefless barrister.
And yet? -
Across every fresh pathway she turned her thoughts along, was stil that arresting, intangible, "and yet".
The pity of it! At least he was strong, and true, and unspoilt now.
Why not give life a chance to leave him so?
Why not give Fate a chance to endow him quickly with the rich, blessed love that kept a man walking straight and strong along his steadfast way?
But again the thought came back of what he would lose, what he must inevitably lose, if he missed the storm and stress and struggle that are as the mill and furnace through wich the gold is refined, and hardened, and separated from the dross.
She went back to the fireside feeling that her probing had brought her nowhither, and that she was only very tired and very depressed.
Then she went slowly away to dress, and chose, somewhat to Jean's surprise, one of the simplest evening frocks she possessed. Jean, knowing the tal , beautiful new friend was coming to dinner, had laid out an elaborate dinner-dress, and arranged the jewel cases for selection.
"Put them away at once," was al her mistress said, with one sweeping glance round. "I shal wear that little blue Liberty gown and a single row of pearls."
When Alymer came he found her already seated by the fire, engaged with some knitting.
"How nice and homely," he said. "I never associated you with anything so commonplace as sewing."
"I'm afraid I can't sew very wel ," with a little smile. "I can knit this, and that is about al ."
"Are you better?" and he scanned her face critical y, in an old-fashioned way that gave her secret yoy.
"Yes, sir, thnak you," with a low laugh.
He laughed too, and took up his stand on the hearthrug, with his hands behind his back, in a natural, quite-at-home way, that seemed to come easily to him.
"How jolly it is to see a fire. My mater always seems afraid of beginning too soon. I think she has a sort of feeling that if winter sees fires started he will hurry."
"I never leave them off. My fire is one of my staunchest companions.
An empty grate always depresses me, because if it is sunny and hot I want to be out-of-doors, and if it is not, I want my fire. Let us go to dinner, then we can get back and purr over it to our hearts'
content."
Because it pleased her to make him an honoured guest, Lorraine had been at considerable pains in ordering her dinner, and she was gratified to observe that it was not wasted on him.
Certainly, among other things at Oxford he had learnt to know a good dinner and good wine, and enjoy them as a connoisseur. It amused her also to observe that the old-fashioned air with which he had inquired a little masterful y after her health, grew upon him as the evening progressed.
She thought he must be a little bit of a tyrant to his mother, and any one he was specially fond of. Not dictatorial y so, but with a humorous, half-satirical insistence that was very engaging.
When the sat over the fire together, later, she found herself telling him many things about her early struggles, and first successes, not in the least in a "talking down" attitude, but as to a very sympathetic companion of her own age.
It was evident he was truly interested, and this made him a charming listener. And he told her yet further of his own hopes, and disappointments, and discouragements. Several times since he took his degree, one friend or another had held out hopeful expectations of being able to put him on to this case of that, which might bring a brief. And always the hope had failed, and the promise ended in smoke.
She gave him sympathy in her turn, and said she would not raise his expectations unkindly, but she believed she could real y help him to get a start. She would speak to Lord Denton about it. He was always ready to do a little thing like that for her.
"He is one of those dear people," she told him, "who seem to try to make up for their own incorrigible laziness by going out of their way to put some one else in the way of a start."
She saw the colour deepen in his face, and a subdued light shine in his eyes, as he thanked her rather haltingly. The little show of diffidence was very charming. How far removed, how amazingly far removed he was from the average good-looking youth of twenty-four, who was usual y so anxious to impress every one with his attributes and his powers.
And he was not even average. Every time she saw him she wondered afresh at his extraordinary wealth of attraction. One could have forgiven him a few airs and mannerisms; but no forgiveness was asked: in every single phrase she found him always the modest, unassuming, high-bred gentleman.
So they sat on and talked, and for the time being the warfare of the afternoon passed from her mind. Probing seemed suddenly out of place.
Why probe?... Their friendship had slipped of itself into an old companionship. What need for more? She knew instinctively he would come often to fil her lonely hours, and tel her al about his work and his doings.
And sometimes they would go out together on little jaunts. If they did, who need know, or who, at any rate, need gossip? She felt a gladness grow in her mind at the thought of the happy friendship they might have; guarded perhaps from harm by the disparity in their years, and at the same time of inestimable benefit to him, and pleasure to her. She felt almost motherly as she laid her fingers lightly on his arm, with a little laughing jest, as they stood together before parting.
"I have enjoyed my evening of invalidism so much. Come and see me again soon, won't you?"
"I should love to. You are very good to me."
"Oh, no; I'm not. Don't let us talk of goodness in that way. I like your company; and it is good to have what one likes. I shal expect you again soon, Alymer - I may cal you Alymer, mayn't I?... Mr.
Hermon is so overpowering."
"I wish you would. I would have asked you, only I was afraid you might think it cheek."
"Very wel then, _Alymer_," with emphasis, "when I have spoken to Lord Denton I will telephone you; and I hope he will be able to start you off on a road that will very nearly end in a verdict of 'Suffocated with briefs.'"
"Or 'briefly suffocated'," he laughed, and beat a hasty retreat, for fear of a reprisal.
When he had gone, Lorraine sat again in the firelight, and it seemed as if the stress and unrest had fal en from her, and only the memory of a pleasant companionship remained. They were going to be the best of pals - why not - and why seek to probe any further?
Apparently he was not susceptible, and cared more for his profession than any one supposed, and so, since she liked to have him there to glory in his comeliness, they could form a mutual benefit society, and no one need be hurt at all. It was al quite simple, and she went to bed feeling rested and refreshed, and looking forward hopefully for the pleasant meetings to come?
Flip Denton was running down to Brighton for the week-end also, to take her out on the Sunday in his car; and he noticed at once that a shadow wich had hovered over her eyes of late had vanished.
"You are looking topping," he told her. "What about the love affair, is it al satisfactorily off? It has been worrying you a little of late."
"It is not exactly off," she replied, "but it is more satisfactorily placed. We are going to be real good pals. He is going to keep me company in some of my lonely hours, and I am going to try and help him to get briefs. I am relying on you for the first one, Flip."
"The dickens you are. My dear girl, why should I put myself out to acquire a brief for a rival?"
"Oh, just because you are you. You know you will love it, Flip! You wil get him a brief, and then you will pat yourself on the back and say: 'I know I'm a lazy dog myself, but I'm a devil of a good chap at getting other fellows work.'"
"So I am" - enjoying her thrust - "and it's a splendid line, and gives far more satisfaction in the end. If I tried to work I should only make a mess of it, and drive some one nearly crazy, whereas, in putting another chap on to a job I give such a lot of folks pleasure, I feel I am getting square with the Almighty."
"Then you'll try, Flip?"
"It is humanly possible, he shal have a brief of his very own within the next month."
"You are a dear. Sometimes I think you are the most adorable person I know."
"You don't think it long enough at a time, Lorry. You are too prone to go off suddenly after false gods measuring six-foot-five-and-a-half inches and with the faces of Apol o Belvederes."
"Probably it is a merciful precaution on the part of our guardian angels, Flip; and, anyhow, you know you like a little variation yourself in the way of bulk, and sound, practical, indecorous chorus girldom."
"I do," was his unabashed affirmative. "Nice, comfortable, elevating pal iness with you; and a right down rol icking bust-up occasionally with the ladies of the unpretending school of wild oats."
"I want my giant for the present to be satisfied with his pal iness with me and his work. Do you think he wil ?"
"As I haven't seen him I can't say. If I get the chance, however, I'll tel him that "wild oats' are the very devil, and I'd give al I've got to have stuck to work and had naught to do with'em."
"You know you wouldn't, Flip," with a little laugh.
"I know I couldn't, you mean; but I never admit it to juniors."
"Well, you shal come to the flat to meet him. If he gets a brief, we'll have a little dinner party, and I'll ask Hal and her cousin and St. Quintin."
"Right you are. I haven't seen Miss Pritchard for ages. Shal we turn now, and go back by Rottingdean?"
"Let us go wichever way has the best view of the sea. I feel I want to look at wide, breezy spaces for a while, and not talk at all."
"You shal ," he promised, and they sped along in silence.