'So that's why he wouldn't take me to see her! He's been meeting her in secret. My instinct was right, but I didn't think he would do that now. Oh, to think he's been deceiving me!'
'But you mustn't be in such a hurry to judge.' protested Anne; 'it may be just some accidental thing. Hyacinth, do take my advice. Don't say anything about it to him, and see if he mentions it. If he doesn't, then you'll have some reason for suspecting him, and we'll see what can be done.'
'He won't mention it—I know he won't. What accident could make them meet in a hansom in the Cromwell Road? It's too cruel! And I thought she was good. I didn't know she'd be so wicked as this. Why, they've only been married a few months. He never loved me; I told you so, Anne. He ought not to have married me. He only did it out of pique. He never cared for anyone but that woman.'
'Is it hopeless to ask you to listen to reason? So far you have no proof of anything of the kind. Certainly not that he cares for her now.'
'Didn't I see his face? I don't think he's ever looked like that at me.'
If Anne had had a momentary feeling of triumph, of that resignation to the troubles of other people that we are all apt to feel when the trouble is caused by one of whom we are jealous, the unworthy sentiment could not last at the sight of her friend's grief.
'This is serious, Hyacinth. And everything depends on your being clever now. I don't believe that she can possibly mean any harm. She never did. Why on earth should she now? And if you remember, she didn't look a bit interested. There must be some simple explanation.'
'Then a strong line must be taken. He must be got away from her.'
"To think of having to say that! And he says he loves me! On our honeymoon I began to believe it. Since we have been home I told you I had vague fears, but nothing like this. It's an outrage."
"It isn't necessarily an outrage for your husband to drive his aunt in a hansom."
"Don't make fun of me, Anne, when you know she was formerly—"
"But she wasn't, my dear. That's just the point. I'm perfectly sure, I really believe, that she never regarded him in that way at all. She looks on him as a boy, and quite an ordinary boy."
"What ever you do, Hyacinth, don't meet him by making a scene. At present he associates you with nothing but gentleness, affection, and pleasure. That is your power over him. It's a power that grows. Don't let him have any painful recollections of you."
"But the other woman, according to you, never gave him pleasure and gentleness and all that—yet you see he turns to her."
"That's a different thing. She didn't love him."
There was a pause.
"And if I find he doesn't mention the meeting, deceives me about it, don't you even advise me to charge him with it then?"
"It is what I should advise, if I wanted you to have a frightful quarrel—perhaps a complete rupture. If you found out he had deceived you, what would you really do?"
"I should—no, I couldn't live without him!"
"I give you two minutes by the clock to cry," said Anne dryly, "not a second more. If you spoil your eyes and give yourself a frightful headache, what thanks do you suppose you'll get?"
"Nothing he says, nothing he tells me, even if he's perfectly open about the drive this afternoon, will ever convince me that he's not in love with her, and that's the awful thing."
"Even if that were true, it's not incurable. You're his wife. A thousand times prettier—and twenty years younger! The longer he lives with you the more fond he'll grow of you. You are his life—and a very charming life—not exactly a dull duty. She is merely—at the worst—a whim."
'Horrid creature! I believe she's a witch,' Hyacinth cried.
'Don't let us talk it over any more. Just as if your own instinct won't tell you what to do far better than I ever could! Besides, you understand men; you know how to deal with them by nature—I never could. I see through them too well. I merely wanted to warn you—being myself a cool looker-on—to be prudent, not to say or do anything irrevocable. If you find you can't help making a scene, well, make one. It can't do much harm. It's only that making oneself unpleasant is apt to destroy one's influence. Naturally, people won't stand being bullied and interfered with if they can help it. It isn't human nature.'
'No; and it isn't human nature to share the person one loves with anyone else. That I could never do. I shall show him that.'
'The question doesn't arise. I feel certain you're making a mountain out of a mole-hill, dear. Well—cheer up!'
As Cecil came in, looking, Hyacinth thought, particularly and irritatingly handsome, she felt a fresh attack of acute jealousy. And yet, in spite of her anger, her first sensation was a sort of relenting—a wish to let him off, not to entrap him into deceiving her by pretending not to know, not to act a part, but to throw herself into his arms, violently abusing Eugenia, forgiving him, and imploring him vaguely to take her away.
She did not, however, give way to this wild impulse, but behaved precisely as usual; and he, also, showed no difference. He told her about the pictures, and said she must come and see them with him, but he said nothing whatever of having seen Lady Selsey. He was deceiving her, then! How heartless, treacherous, faithless—and horribly handsome and attractive he was! She was wondering how much longer she could keep her anger to herself, when by the last post she received a note. It was from the Selseys, asking her and Cecil to dine with them on an evening near at hand.
Her hand trembled as she passed the letter to Cecil.
'Oh, no! I suppose we may as well accept.'
The words 'Have you seen her yet?' were on her lips, but she dared not say them. She was afraid he would tell her the truth.
'Have you any objection?' he asked.
She didn't answer, but walked to the door and then turned round and said—
'None whatever—to your going. You can go where you please, and do as you like. But I shall certainly not go with you!'
'You've been deceiving me, Cecil. Don't speak—please don't—because you would lie to me, and I couldn't bear it. I saw you driving with that woman today. I quite understand that you're beginning to think it would be better I should go to her house. No doubt you arranged it with her. But I'm not going to make it so convenient for you as all that!'
'My dear child, stop, listen!—let me explain. We met accidentally at the picture-gallery, and her husband himself asked me to drive her home. I couldn't get out of it.'
'Oh! He asked you to drive her home! You went a long way round, Cecil. The Cromwell Road is scarcely on the way to Regent's Park from St James's Street. Anyhow, you need not have done it. I have felt for some time that you don't really care for me, and I'm not going to play the part of the deceived and ridiculous wife, nor to live an existence of continual wrangling. I'm disappointed, and I must accept the disappointment.'
'My dearest girl, what do you mean?'
'Let us separate!' she answered. 'I will go abroad somewhere with Anne, and you can stay here and go on with your intrigue. I doubt if it will make you very happy in the end—it is too base, under the circumstances. At any rate, you're perfectly free.'
'You are absolutely wrong, Hyacinth. Terribly wrong—utterly mistaken! I swear to you that today is the first time I've seen her since she married. She wants to know you better—to be your friend. That is why she asked us again. She's devoted to her husband. It was a mere chance, our drive today—there's nothing in it. But still, though I'm absolutely innocent, if you wish to leave me, I shall not stand in your way. You want to go abroad with Anne Yeo, do you? Upon my word, I believe you prefer her to me!'
'You are grotesque, Cecil. But, at least, I can believe what she says. I know she would not be treacherous to me.'
'I suppose it was she who put this pretty fancy in your head—this nonsense about my imaginary flirtation with—Lady Selsey?'
'Was it Anne who made you drive with Lady Selsey, and not tell me about it? No, I can't believe you—I wish I could. This is all I've seen, so it's all you acknowledge. For a long time I've known that it was she who was between us. You have always cared for her. I suppose you always will. Well, I am not going to fight with her.'
She threw the note on the table.
'You can answer it! Say you'll go, but that I am going away. I shall probably go tomorrow.'
The door closed behind her. Cecil was left alone.
'By Jove!' he said to himself; and then more slowly, 'By—Jove!'
He lighted a cigarette and immediately threw it away. He rang the bell, and when the servant came, said he didn't want anything. He went into the dining-room, poured out some brandy-and-soda. He looked at it and left it untouched. Then, suddenly, he went upstairs. There was an expression on his face of mingled anxiety, slight amusement, and surprise. He went to her room. The door was locked.
'Hyacinth,' he said in a low voice, 'Hyacinth, darling, do open the door…. I want to speak to you. Do answer. You are quite mistaken, you know…. You know I don't care for anyone but you, dear. It's too absurd. Open the door!'
'But, I say, I insist on your opening the door! I will come in; you're treating me shamefully, and I won't stand it. Do you hear?'
She came close to the door and said in a low, distinct voice—
'I don't wish to see you, and you must please leave me alone. I'm busy.'
'Busy! Good Lord! What are you doing?'
He waited a second, and then went downstairs again and sat down in the arm-chair.
'By Jove!' he exclaimed again. 'By—Jove!'
His thoughts were more eloquent. But a baffled Englishman is rarely very articulate.