In the evening came the party at Dick Bruce's home, and it was necessary, she knew, to thrustl al recollection of Sir Edwin aside, in order to give rise to no questioning and appear as usual.
So she dressed herself with special care, rubbed a pink tinge on to her white cheeks, bathed and refreshed eyes dul ed by worry and shadows, and made her appearance, looking, inf anything, a little more radiant than usual.
"By Jove! you look stunning, Hal," was her jovial uncle's warm greeting. "Who'd ever have thought, to see the ugly little imp of a small child you were, that you would grow up into a fashionable, striking woman? I congratulate you. When's the happy man coming along?"
"When I'm tired to enjoying of myself," she laughed, "and feel equal to coping with anything as trying as a husband. At present a brother keeps me quite sufficiently occupied, "and she passed on.
Across the large, wel -lit room, towering above every one around him, she saw the head and shoulders of Alymer Hermon. All about her, as she moved towards him, she heard the low-voiced query: "Who is he?"
No society beauty at her zenith could have caused greater interest. He was looking grave, too, and thoughtful, which suited him better than laughter, giving him something of a look apart, and banishing al suggestion of the conceit and self-satisfaction that would have spoilt him. Then he caught sight of Hal, and instantly all his face lit up, and a twinkle shone in his eyes as he edged towards her.
"How late you are! I thought you were never coming. Did your hair require an extra half-hour? I suppose you've been tearing it out by the roots over your faithless swain."
"I don't know what you mean, and anyhow I shouldn't be such a fool as to tear my own hair out by the roots for any one. If hair is coming out in that fashion, it shal be his roots."
"Come and sit down. I'll soon find you a chair."
"What's the good of that? We can't converse unless you sit on the floor. I work too hard to spend my evening shouting banalities at the ceiling."
"Well, let's hunt for a couch; there are plenty here on ordinary occasions. Isn't it a poser where all the furniture goes to at a
'beano' like this! There's nothing in the hal , nor in the dinning-room; and there doesn't seem to be much here. Let's make for the lounge."
"But I can't take you away. I shal get my face scratched. You were made to be looked at, and half these silly people are staring their eyes out in your direction. I don't know how you put up with it so serenely. I should want to bite them al . If I were a man, and had been burdened with an appearance like yours, I should want to hit Life in the face for it."
"Don't be sil y. What does it matter? It pleases them, and it doesn't hurt me. I get my own back a little anyway... when I want to" - with a low, significant laugh.
"Oh of course lots of women are in love with you," - with a contemptuous sniff; "but if I were a man I wouldn't give tuppence for the woman who made me a present of her affections. You miss al the fun of the chase, and the victory. It must be deadly dul ."
"That's what Lorraine has sometimes said; but what can I do? Shall I paint my face black?"
"Oh, I've seen you look black enough, but it's rather becoming than otherwise. Anyhow, it isn't insipid. But you've grown quite manly lately, I suppose. I hear about you occasional y positively working hard. Heavens! - what you owe to Lorraine!""
"I do," fervently.
"Then why in the world don't you look after her a bit? I turned up unexpectedly at half-past one to-day, and found her sobbing her eyes out."
"You found Lorraine sobbing her eyes out..." incredulously.
"I did. She told me not to tell you, as it was only nerves - but of course it wasn't. You know as well as I that Lorraine doesn't suffer from weepy nerves. It's worry again; and she is looking thoroughly il ."
"Why again?..."
He was looking grave enough now, and there was anxiety in his voice.
"Oh, because there's often something to worry her - either her mother, or her memories, or the future. I suppose you haven't bothered to go and see her lately to cheer her up? Been too busy with your briefs!"
"I was there yesterday, to inquire how she was after a bad sick headache. The room was al violets and snow-drops"; and his eyes grew soft.
"And did she sight of her robust health knock you backwards?"
Hal was irritable from the strain on her own nerves, and it pleased her to hurl sarcasms at him, feeling somehow angry at his calm, smoothly-flowing path to success.
"I thought she looked ill, and I advised her to go away for a week."
"That was kind of you. And why won't she take your safe advice?"
"She won't go alone, and she said there was no one to go with her."
"Too many briefs, eh?"
"What have my briefs to do with it?"
"Oh, nothing. She's given hours and hours to you and your future; but of course you couldn't risk sparing a week -"
"But!... " he began with raised eyebrows.
""Oh, don't 'but' in that inane fashion. If you say it isn't proper I shal scream. Lorraine is nearly old enough to be your mother, and she has far too much sense to be in love with you; and you wouldn't be so idiote as to imagine it any use for you to be in love with her.
Therefore it's only a companion she wants to keep her from moping and dwel ing on sad thoughts; and you seem to be able to do that - as well as any of us; so why can't you get another man, or boy if you prefer it, to go for a run into the country with you? Flip would take her by the next train if he were there. He wouldn't care a farthing for scandalmongers. But I suppose he can do that sort of thing because he's a man. And, anyhow, I don't suppose she would go with you, even with a third person. She might think a whole week of you too much of a good thing."
His face has grown still more thoughtful, and he paid smal heed to her taunts.
Lorraine sobbing, Lorraine ailing, Lorraine unhappy, filled his mind.
What could have happened to upset her so? True, she had not been looking wel for some weeks, and had complained of headaches and weariness; but he felt sure something quie apart had transpired to upset her so thoroughly.
Neither did he think it was Hal's version of the usual worries. He greatly feared his own people had made some move of which he was in ignorance. He contemplated with deep vexation the probability that he himself was indirectly the cause of her new trouble, and he mentally decided then and there to go to considerable lengths, if she wished it, on her behalf.
Probably if he travel ed down to some sea-side place and saw her comfortably settled, and later on ran down to fetch her, she would be more easily induced to go. At any rate he would call the very next day and see, if his proposition simplified matters at al .
Hal watched him a little impatiently, and at length remarked:
"You seem to be thinking rather hard. Are you meditating upon Lorraine's trouble, or my suggestion, that it is unlikely she could endure a whole week of you, unadulterated?"
"Both," with a humorous glance at her. "I'm thinking it would be interesting to find out the truth in both cases."
"Well, you won't do that. Lorraine never tel s her troubles. Not even to me. And she's too tender-hearted to hurt your feelings on the other question."
"I'm not afraid of that."
His face grew a little brighter, and, as if satisfied with the result of his cogitations, he changed the subject.
"What's making you so ratty to-night? Is it the faithless swain?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Perhaps you haven't seen the evening paper."
"I haven't. I'm sick to death of papers by six o'clock."
"Well, you oughtn't to have missed it to-night, and then you'd have had the pleasure of seeing the announcement of the faithless swain's engagement to the rich heiress."
Hal bit her lip suddenly, and felt her blood run cold, but she kept her outward composure perfectly, and merely commented:
"Oh, you mean about Sir Edwin Crathie and Miss Bootes!... that's very old news."
"Well, it was only in the paper to-night anyhow; and only given as a rumour then. I was going to ask you if it is true. Yhey say he's in the dickens of a mess for money. But of course you know al about it."
He was enjoying himself now, feeling that he was getting a little of his own back, and it made him unconsciously merciless.
"It must have been rather a trying moment when you had to break to him that you couldn't possibly pay any of his debts, and that therefore you must part?"
"I don't know anything about his debts. They don't interest me. I can beat him at golf, playing level, and that's far more to the point."
"Then you are going to play golf with him, while Miss Bootes bears his proud name in return for paying his debts! Sure, it sounds a nice handy arrangement for him."
Then Hal got up.
"I don't want to _talk_ to you, because you are talking such drivel; and I don't want to _look_ at you, because your pink and white and blue and gold irritate me beyond words, so you'd better go and stand in the middle of the room for the benefit of those who delight to gaze; and I'll go in search of a refreshingly ugly person who can talk sense!"
Hermon gave a low chuckle of enjoyment, and continued to chuckle to himself until she was lost to sight and his hostess was introducing some charming débutante to him. The débutante was pink and white and blue and gold likewise, and gazed up at him adorably under long curling lashes; but he might have expressed a fel ow-feeling with Hal, for he found himself merely bored, and longed to go in search, not of a refreshingly ugly person, but of the refreshingly irritable, snappy, unappreciative one who had just left him.
When at last he was free, however, he found Hal had complained of a headache and gone home early, unattended.