Al through the next day, while motoring with her cousin Dick Bruce, Hal made a valiant effort to appear exactly as usual; but al the fresh spring countryside now seemed to mock her with its sudden emptiness, and the very engine of the motor throbbed out to her that something had gone from her life which would not come back any more.
She chatted away to Dick manful y, about al manner of things, but in the pauses of their chatter she was silent and stil in a manner quite unlike her old self - reattending with a start, and sometimes so distraite she did not hear when he spoke to her.
After a time Dick began to notice, and then purposely to watch, and final y he perceived al her gaiety was forced, and sometimes was weighing heavily on her mind.
It was useless to say anything while they motored, so he gave all his attention to his driving, and purposely allowed the conversation to drop.
When they returned to Bloomsbury he went in to supper with her, as was his habit, and, as he hoped, Dudley was away up at Hol oway. It was not until they had finished their meal, and the landlady had cleared away, that he attacked the subject; then, with characteristic directness, he said:
"Now, Hal, what's the matter?"
"The matter?..." in surprise. "What can you mean, Dick? Why should anything be the matter?"
She tried to meet his eyes frankly, but before the searching inquiry in them her gaze dropped to the fire.
"Something is the matter, Hal. Just as if I shouldn't know."
She was thoughtful a moment or two, thinking how best to put hi off the right scent; then with overpowering suddenness came the recollection of all the pleasure and interest and delight the lost friendship had stood for, and her eyes filled with tears. It was useless to attempt to hide them, so she contrived to say as steadily as possible:
"I am a bit down on my luck about something; but it's nothing to worry about. Don't take any notice; there's a dear boy. I shal soon forget."
"But why shouldn't I take any notice? Don't be a goose, Hal. Tell me what's the matter."
She was silent, and after a pause he added:
"I suppose it is Sir Edwin?"
Hal felt it useless to prevaricate, and so she said, with assumed lightness:
"Well, it has been a little sudden, and we had some jol y times together."
"Then he is engaged?"
"Yes."
She told him briefly why. Dick watched her with a question in his eyes.
"Did he deliberately get engaged to the other girl, knowing he cared for you?" he asked.
Hal tried to lie.
"Oh, there was nothing of that sort between him and me. We were just good pals. But of course it can't go on the same."
"You're not a clever liar, Hal," he said, with a little smile.
She coloured and bit her lip, with an uneasy laugh. Then the tears shone again.
"Better tell me about it. Perhaps I can lend a hand to get through with."
Hal placed her hands on the mantelshelf, and leaned her forehead down on them.
"Tel me something funny, Dick, or I shal howl in a few seconds.
Don't be serious. Be idiotic. Have the carrots and turnips decided which take precedence yet? Is her ladyship, the onion, weeping upon the cabbage's lordly bosom? Are the babies talking philosophy over their bottles? For Heaven's sake, Dick, be idiotic, and make me laugh."
"I think it would do you more good to cry."
"Oh, no, no: I hate to cry. Do help me not to."
But Dick understood the relief it was to a woman to have it out, and he just sat down in Dudley's big arm chair, and reached the favourite footstool for Hal.
"Sit on the stool of confessional, and I'll make you laugh later on.
If you don't cry now, you will when I've gone."
Hal sat on the footstool, and leaning against his knee, cried quietly for several minutes. He played with an unruly strand of hair until she dried her eyes, and then said:
"When we were kids, you always told me when things went wrong with you.
Tel me all about it now."
"I left off being a kid about a month ago. I'm ancient history now"; and she tried to smile through her tears.
"Why?"
"Oh, just because - " and then her voice broke suddenly.
"I suppose Sir Edwin was in love with you?"
She did not reply.
"And he was obliged to marry the other woman for the money."
He was thoughtful for some moments, and then added:
"Al the same, when a man like that goes so far as to love a woman, which must be a pretty novel experience for him, he doesn't let her go lightly. He won't let you go lightly, Hal."
"I shal not see him again."
"Has it come to that already?"
"It had to. There was no other course."
"It sounds rather sudden and drastic." He watched her keenly. "A man like that would try to get both of you. Did he try, Hal?"
The hot blood rushed to her face, and she turned her head away.
"Well, he would think it the obvious, sensible course, I suppose, and perhaps a good many women would, too. What did you think, Hal?"
"I didn't think. I hurried away. I shal not see him any more at all."
He looked at her with a light in his eyes.
"Bravo," he said; and there was a low thrill in his voice. "He'll think the world more of you, Hal."
"I'm not sure; anyhow, it doesn't help very much."
"Then you wanted to go."
She stared into the fire and was silent.
"I see," he said simply. "You are one of the women who would have dared, only... of course I knew you wouldn't, Hal. And, if you had, I shouldn't have been the one to blame you."
"Yes," she told him, still staring at the fire. "I could have dared under some circumstance. But not these. Never under pretty, ignoble ones. I think that al makes it worse. There were two Sir Edwins.
There was one I knew, and another the world knew. It was the other that triumphed. Mine will never come back. It is al finished."
She bowed her head down on her arms.
"Oh, Dick," she said. "I shall miss him badly."
"But I'm glad you let him go, Hal." He spoke in a quiet voice ful of feeling. "Most men are pretty casual and indifferent nowadays, and we often say we like a woman to be broad-minded, and daring, and al that; but, by Jove! when we know she's straight as a die, without being a prude, we're ready to kneel down to her.
"Stand to your guns, Hal. I... I... want to go on knowing that you are among those one wants to kneel down to. If he is very persistent and persevering, and it gets harder, I dare say I can help. You can always
'phone me at a moment's notice, and I shal consider myself at your beck and call."
"You are a dear, Dick, but I shall not see him. He can only wait for me at the office, and I shall go out the back way."
"Stil , if you're rather lost there are lots of things we might to to fill up the time. I've been going down East with Quin lately. It's awful y interesting. Especially with him - he's so splendid with the most hopeless characters. There's a sing-song at one of the clubs on Wednesday eve. Come down with us. You'll see Quin at his very best."
"I'd love to come. Will you fetch me?"
"I'll fetch you from the office, and we'll have a sort of meat-tea meal at the Cheshire Cheese. Perhaps Quin wil join us."
So they sat on and talked in the firelight till it was time for Dick to go; and al the time Hal was unconsciously drawing strength and resolution from him for the fight that lay ahead of her.
Many years ago when she broke her dolls he had tried to mend them and comfort her. And now, because he was a simple, manly gentleman, blessed with the precious gift of understanding - when she was feeling heart-broken he tried with all the old, generous affection to help to heal the wound, and bring her consolation.
And away on the southern shore, where a little fishing-village nestled in the cliffs, and a creeper-covered hotel awaited sleepily the coming of the summer and the summer visitors, Lorraine came to what she deemed her hour - the one great hour left - and, as a drowning man, caught at her straw. Two long perfect days they had spent on the sea, with an old fisherman, ful of anecdote, and his young grandson to sail the boat.
Then came the dreamy twilight hour, and their utter loneness; and Alymer, with the strong, swift blood in his veins, and the strong lust of life in his heart, lost himself, as she meant that he should, in the intoxicating atmosphere of her charm and fascination.