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CHAPTER I 

"Ah, then, was it all spring weather? 
Nay! but we were young— and together.** 

SHE had always adored him. 
From the first moment he came to the house — ^an 
overgrown, good-looking schoolboy, and had started 
to bully and domineer over her, Marie Chester had 
thought him the most wonderful person in all the world. 
She waited on him hand and foot, she was his willing 
bondslave; she did not mind at all when once, in an 
unusual fit of eloquence, she had confided in him that 
she thought it was the loveliest thing on earth to have a 
brother, young Christopher answered almost brutally that 
she ^^ talked rot, an}rway, and that sisters were a bally 
nuisance ! " 

He looked at her with a sort of contempt for a moment, 
then added: "" Besides, we're not brother and sister, 
really!*' 

They were not; but their fathers had been lifelong 
friends, and when George Chester's wife inconsiderately 
— or so her husband thought— died without presenting 
him with a son, and almost at the same time young Chris- 
topher Lawless was left an orphan, Greorge Chester 
promptly adopted him. 

" It will do Marie good to have a brother," he main- 
tained, when his sister. Miss Chester, who kept house 
for him, raised an objection. " She's spoilt — shockingly 
spoilt — ^and a boy about the place will knock off some of 
her airs and graces." 

Young Christopher certainly did that much^ if no more, 
for in a fortnight he had turned Marie, who was nat- 
urally rather shy and reserved, into a tomboy who 



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2 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

climbed trees with him regardless of injury to life and 
limb, who rode a cob barebacked round the paddock, 
who did, in fact, everything he dared or ordered her 
to do. 

Miss Chester protested to Marie's father in vain. 

"Christopher is ruining her; I can do nothing with 
her now ! She is quite a different child since he came to 
the house." 

Marie's father chuckled. He was not a particularly 
refined man, and the daintiness and sh3mess of his little 
daughter had rather embarrassed him. He was pleased 
to think that under Christopher's guiding hand she was 
what he chose to call " improving." 

"Do her good!" he said bluntly. "Where's the 
harm? They're only children." 

But the climax came rather violently when one after- 
noon Marie fell out of the loft into the yard below, and 
broke her arm. 

One of the grooms went running to the rescue and 
picked her up, a forlorn little heap with a face as white 
as her frock. 

"I fdl out myself!" she said with quivering lips. 
" I fell out all my own self." 

Young Christopher, who had clambered down the 
ladder from the loft, broke in violently: 

" She didn't ! It was my fault ! She made me wild, 
and I pushed hen I didn't think she'd be so silly as to 
fall, though," he added, with an angry look at her. 
"And don't you trouble to tell lies about me." 

The groom said afterwards that she had not shed a 
tear till dien, but at the angry words she broke down 
suddenly into bitter sobbing. 

She did not mind her broken arm, but she minded 
having offended Cbristopher. It was the greatest 
trouble she had ever known when — as a consequence of 
the accident— Christopher was sent away to a boarding 
school. 

Hereafter she only saw him by fits and starts during 
the holidays, and then he seemed somehow quite different 

He todc but little notice of her, and he generally 






•« > 






A BACHELOR HUSBAND 3 

brought a friend home with him from school. He was 
getting beyond the "boy" stage, and developing a 
wholesome contempt for girls as a whole! 

When — Plater — ^he went to a public school, he forgot 
to ignore her, and took to patronizing her instead. She 
wasn't such a bad little thing, he told her, and next term 
if she liked she might knit him a tie. 

Marie knitted him two— which he never wore! She 
would have blacked his boots for him if he had expressed 
the slightest wish for her to do so. 

Then, later still, he went to Cambridge and forgot 
all about her. He hardly ever came home during vaca- 
tion save for wedc-ends ; he had so many friends, it 
seemed, and was in great demand amongst them all. 

Marie could quite believe it She was bitterly jealous 
of these unknown friends, and incidentally of the sisters 
which she was sure some of them must have! 

She was still at school herself, and her soft brown 
hair was lied in a pigtail with a large bow at the end. 

" You'll soon have to put your hair up if you grow 
so fast, Marie," Miss Chester said to her rather sadly, 
when at the end of one term she came home. 

Marie glanced at herself in the glass. She was tall 
and slim for her age, which was not quite seventeen, 
and as she was entirely free from conceit she could see 
no beauty in her pale face and dark eyes, which, together 
with her name of Marie Celeste, she had inherited from 
her French mother. 

"Am I like mother, Auntie Madge?" she asked, 
and Miss Chester smiled as she answered: 

"You have your mother's eyes." 

Marie looked at her reflection again. 

"Mother was very pretty, wasn't she?" she asked, 
and Miss Chester said: "Yes — she was, very pretty." 

Marie sighed. *' Of course, I can't be like her, then," 
she said, resignedly, and turned away. 

Presently: "Is Chris coming these holidays?" she 
asked. 

Miss Chester shook her head. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 



" He did not think so. He wrote that he should go 
to Scotland with the Knights." 

Marie flushed. "I hate the Knights," she said pet- 
tishly. She had never seen them, but on principle she 
hated everyone «uid everything who took Christopher 
from her. 

The following year she was sent to a finishing school 
in Paris, and while she was there her father died suddenly. 

A wire came from England late one night and Marie 
was packed off home the following morning. 

Her father's death was no great grief to her, though in 
a placid sort of way she had been fond of him. She had 
written to him regularly every Sunday, and was grateful 
for all that she knew he had done for her, but any deep 
love she might have borne for him had long ago gone 
to Chris. He was the beginning and end of her girlish 
dreams — ^the center of her whole life. 

As she sat in the stuffy cabin on the cross-Channel 
boat and listened to the waves outside her chief thought 
was, should she see Chris? Had they wired for him 
to come home from wherever he was? 

He had left Cambridge now, she knew, but what he 
was doing or how he spent his time she did not know. 
All the way up in the train from Dover she was think- 
ing of him, wondering how soon she would see him, 
but she never dreamed that he would meet the train, 
and the wild color flew to her face as she saw him 
coming down the crowded platform. 

He looked very tall and very much of a man, she 
thought, as she gave him a trembling hand to shake. 
She felt herself very childish and insignificant beside 
his magnificence as she walked with him to the waiting 
car, for the house in the country had long since been 
given up, ai^d George Chester had lived m London for 
some years before his death. 

"Have you got your ticket?" Christopher asked, 
very much as he might have asked a child, and Marie 
fumbled m her pocket with fingers that shook. 

" I nearly lost it once," she volunteered, and Chris 
smiled as he answered : " Yes, that's the sort of thing 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 5 

you would do." He looked down at her. " You haven't 
altered much," he said condescendingly. " You're still 
just a kid." 

Marie did not answer, but her heart swelled with 
disappointment. She was eighteen, and she knew that 
he was but six years older. 

Years ago that six years had not seemed much of a 
gap, but now, looking up at him, she felt it to be an 
insuperable gulf. 

He was a man and she was only a school girl with 
short skirts and her hair down her back. 

They sat opposite one another in the car, and Chris 
looked at her consideringly. "It's a long time since 
I saw you," he said. 

"Yes, eight months," she answered readily. She 
could have told him the date and the month and almost 
the hour of their last meeting had she chosen, but some- 
how she did not think he would be greatly interested. 

" It's rough luck — ^about Uncle George," he said 
awkwardly, and Marie nodded. 

" Yes." 

She wondered if he thought she ought to be crying. 
She would have been amazed if she could have known 
that he was hoping with all his heart and soul that 
she would not. 

He changed the subject abruptly. 

" Aunt Madge would have come to meet you, but 
there is so much to see to. She sent her love and told 
me to say she was sorry not to be able to come." 

" I don't mind," said Marie. She would infinitely 
rather have been met by Chris. Her dark eyes searched 
his face with shy adoration. 

She was quite sure there had never been anybody so 
good-looking as he in all the world ; that there had never 
been eyes so blue, or with such a twinkle; that nobody 
had ever had such a wonderful smile or such a cheery 
laugh ; that there was not a man in the whole of London 
who dressed so well or looked so splendid. 

As a matter of fact, Christopher was rather a fine 
looking man, and perfectly well aware of the fact. He 



6 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

had more friends than he knew what to do with, and 
they all^ more or less, spoilt him. 

He was generally good-tempered, and always good 
company. He was run after by ail the women with 
marriageable daughters^ though, to do him justice, so 
far he evinced very little interest in the opposite 
sex. 

He looked now at Marie, and thought what a child 
she was I He would have been amazed could he have 
known that beneath her black coat her heart was beating 
with love for him, deep and sincere. 

Faithfulness was a failing with Marie, if it can ever 
be called a failing! There was something doglike in 
her devotion that made change impossible. Her best 
friend at school had been unkind to her many times, 
but Marie's affection had never swerved, and all the 
tyranny and bullying she had received from Christopher 
in the past had only deepened her adoration. In her 
eyes he was perfect. 

There were many things she wanted to say to him, 
but she was tongue-tied and shy. It seemed all too 
soon that they readied home and Christopher handed 
her over to Miss Chester. 

Miss Chester took Marie upstairs and kissed her and 
made much of her. She took it for granted that the girl 
was broken-hearted at the death of her father. She 
was a sweet, old-fashioned woman who always took it 
for granted that people would do the right thing, and 
she thought it was the right thing for any daughter 
to grieve at the loss of a parent. 

" You grow so fast," she said, as she said every time 
the girl came home. " You will have to put your hair 
up. 

Marie turned eagerly. *' Oh, auntie ! To-night, may 

Miss Chester did not think it would matter, and so 
presently a very self-conscious little figure in black crept 
downstairs through the silent house and into the dining- 
room, where Clmstopher was waiting impatiently for 
his dinner. 



$ 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 7 

He turned quickly as Marie and her aunt entered. 
He was a man who hated being kept waiting a moment, 
though if it pleased him he broke appointments without 
the slightest hesitation. 

Conversation was intermittent during dinner. Nat- 
urally there was a gloom over the house. It was only 
as they were leaving the table that Miss Chester said, 
smiling faintly: "Do you notice that Marie has grown 
up, Chris?" 

"Grown up!'* he echoed. He looked at Marie's 
flushing face. 

" She has put her hair up," said Miss Chester. 

Christopher looked away indifferently. "Oh, had 
she? I (Bdn't, notice." 

The tears started to Marie's eyes. She felt like a 
disappointed child. 




CHAPTER II 

**A11 men kill the thing they love^ 

By all let this be heard. 
The coward does it with a kiss. . . ." 

THERE followed a terribly dull week, during which 
Marie hardly went out. Miss Oiester believed in 
seven days' unbroken mourning, and she kept the 
girl to it rigorously. 

Christopher came and went. He seemed very busy, 
and was constantly shut up in the library with men 
whom Miss Chester said were "lawyers." 

" There are a great many things to settle, you know," 
she told Marie. " Your father had large propey^^ and 



much money to leave.' 

Marie said, "Oh, had he?" and lost intf* 
yet money had not much significance for hef 
watched the closed library door with any 
Would it never open? > 

It was quite late that evening before sl^ 
again, and then he came into the drawing- 
she was trying to read and trying not to 
step, and, crossing to where she sat, stood 
at her. 

It was getting dark — ^the June eveninj 
to a close — ^and she could not see his 
tinctly, though she felt in some curious 
was a different note in his voice when ' 

"How old are you, Marie?" 

She looked up amazed. Surely htmgj^ 
age when they had grown up toget 
$wered at once : " I was eighteen las \ 

"And a kid for your age, too," I \ 

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A BACHELOR HUSBAND 9 

She closed her book, a faint sense of hurt dignity in 
her heart. 

"I knew a girl who was married at eighteen," she 
said. 

Christopher laughed. *' I can't imagine you married, 
all the same/' he said. 

"Why not? I don't see why not," she objected, 
offendedly. 

He stood for a moment looking down at her. She 
could feel his eyes upon her. Then he said, irrelevantly, 
it seemed: "After all, we've known each other most 
of our lives, haven't we?" 

"Yes." She was mystified. She could not under- 
stand him. 

"And got on well — eh?" he pursued. 

She smiled ever so faintly. " Oh, yes," she said, with 
heartfelt fervor. 

Chris laughed. " Well — I'll take you for a ride in the 
car to-morrow, if you like," he said, casually. 

Marie could not have explained why, but she felt sure 
that this was not what he had originally intended to say 
to her, but she answered at once: " Yes, I should love it ! " 

It was the first ride of many, the first of many bliss- 
ful days that followed, for Christopher no longer went 
out and about with his friends. He stayed at home 
with Marie and Miss Chester. 

Sometimes he seemed a little restless and impatient, 
Marie thought. Often she caught him yawning and 
looking at the clock as if he were anxiously waiting for 
something, or for time to pass, but she was too happy 
to be critical. He was with her often, and that was aU 
that mattered. 

And then — quite suddenly — the miracle happened! 

It was one Sunday evening — ^a golden Sunday in June, 
when London seemed sunbaked and breathless, and one 
instinctively longed for the sea or the country. 

Miss Chester had had friends to tea, but they had 
gone now, and Chris was prowling round the drawing- 
room, with its heavy, old-fashioned furniture, hands in 
pockets, as if he did not know what to do with himself. 



10 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Half a do2en times he looked at Marie — ^half a dozen 
times he took a step towards the door and came back 
again* There was an oddly nervous expression in his 
blue eyes, and his careless lips no longer smiled. 

Miss Chester had been very silent, too, since the vis- 
itors left, and presently, with a little murmured excuse, 
she gathered up her work and went out of the room. 

Chris swallowed hard and ran a finger round his col- 
lar, as if he suddenly found it too tight, and his voice 
sounded all strangled and jerky, when suddenly he said: 

" Put on your hat and come out, Marie Celeste ! I 
can't breathe — ^it's stifling indoors." 

He had always called Marie " Marie Celeste " since 
their childhood. It had been his boy's way of pretend- 
ing to scorn her French name, but Marie liked it, as she 
liked everything he chose to do or say. 

She rose now with alacrity. She was ready in a few 
minutes, and they went out together into the deserted 
streets. 

It was very hot still, and Chris suggested they should 
go down to the Embankment. 

"There'll be a breeze," he said. 

It was a very silent walk, though Marie did not 
notice it She was perfectly happy; she was sure that 
every woman they passed must be envying her for walk- 
ing with such a companion. Now and then she looked 
up at him with adoring eyes. 

They walked along Sie Embankment, and away from 
it towards Westminster Abbey. There was a service 
going on inside, and through &e open doors they could 
hear the wonderful strains of the organ. 

Marie stopped to listen — she loved music, and Chris 
stopped, too, though he fidgeted restlessly, and drew 
patterns with his stick on the dusty path at his feet. 

When they walked on again he said abruptly: 

" We've got on very well since you came home— eh, 
Marie Celeste?" 

Her dark eyes were raised to his face. 

"Oh, Chris! Of course!" 

He frowned a little. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 11 

"I mean— do you think we should always get on as 
\ircll?" he asked, with an effort. 

She was miles away from understanding his meaning, 
but something in his voice set her heart beating fast. 
When she tried to answer, her voice died away helplessly. 

Christopher looked down at her, then he said with a 
rush : " The fact is — I mean — will you marry me ? " 

Marie stopped dead. All power of movement had 
deserted her. A wave of crimson surged over her face, 
rushing away again and leaving her as white as the 
little rose which she wore in her black frock. 

Chris slipped a hand through her arm. He was af mid 
that she was going to faint. He was feeling pretty bad 
himself. 

*' Well, is it so dreadful to think about ? *' he asked^ 
with a mirthless laugh. 

"Dreadful!" She found her voice with a gasp. 
The sudden rapture that flooded her heart was almost 
unbearable. But for his arm in hers, she was sure she 
woujid have fallen. 

There was a seat close by, and Chris made her sit 
down. He sat beside her and stared at his feet while she 
recovered a little, then he looked up with a strained smile. 

"Well, do you think you could put up with me for 
the rest of your life?" he asked. 

Marie's face was radiant. Nobody could ever have 
said then that she was not pretty. Her eyes were like 
stars. She seemed to have blossomed all at once into 
perfect womanhood. 

She wanted to say so many things to him, but no 
words would come. She just gave him her hand, and 
his fingers closed hard about it 

For a little they sat without speaking, while ^ through 
the open doors of the cathedral came the w6nderful 
strains of the organ. Then suddenly it ceased, and 
Chris took his hand away as if the spell that had been 
laid upon them was broken. 

He rose to his feet, looking a little abashed. 

"Well, then — ^we can tell Aunt Madge that we're 
engaged?" he said. 



12 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" Yes/' 

But even then she could not believe it She dreaded 
lest with every moment she would wake and find it all 
a dream. 

But it was still a reality when they ^ot back home, 
and Aunt Madge pretended to be surpnsed, and cried 
and kissed them both, and said she had never been so 
glad about anything. 

She wanted them to have a glass of wine to celebrate 
the occasion, though, as a rule, she was a staunch tee- 
totaler, but Chris said no, he could not stay — ^he had 
an appointment. He went off in a great hurry, hardly 
laying good-night, and promising to be round early 
in the morning. 

At the doorway he stopped and looked back at the 
two women. 

**ni— er — ^you must have a ring, Marie Celeste,*' he 
said. "I'll — er — I'll tell them to send some round," 
and he was gone. 

It was a strange wooing altogether, but to Marie 
there was nothing amiss. She was in the seventh heaven 
of happiness. When she went to bed she looked out at 
the starry sky, and wished she were clever enough to 
write a poem about this most wonderful of nights. 

She saw nothing wrong with the days that followed 
either. To be awkwardly kissed by Chris — even on the 
cheek — ^was a delirious happiness; to wear his ring, joy 
unspeakable; to be out and about with him, all that she 
asked of life. 

The wedding was to be soon. There was nothing to 
wait for, so Chris and Aunt Madge agreed. They also 
agreed that it must of necessity be quiet, owing to their 
mourning. Marie Celeste agreed to everything — she 
was still living in the clouds. She could hardly come 
down to earth sufficiently to choose frocks and look 
at petticoats and silk stockings. 

Aston Knight, a friend of Christopher's, was to be 
best man, and Marie's special school chum, Dorothy 
Webber, was to be maid of honor. 

"I hope you won't mind such a quiet wedding, my 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 13 

dear child/' Miss Chester said anxiously to Marie. 
" But if one starts to invite peoplej Chris has so many 
friends, it will be difficult to know where to stop. So 
I thought if Mr. Knight and Dorothy came, and just 
your father's lawyer and myself ..." 

** I don't mind— arrange it as you like," Marie said. 
She would not have minded going off with Chris alone 
to church in her oldest frock if it had to come to that* 
There was not a cloud in her sky. 

The wedding was fixed for a Friday. 

"Oh, not Friday," Miss Chester demurred. " It's such 
an unlucky day I Surely Thursday will do just as well." 

" I'm not superstitious," Chris answered. " Are you, 
Marie Celeste? I think Friday is a good day. We can 
get away then for the week-end." 

Marie laughed. She thought Friday was the best 
day in all the week she sai(f-of course, she was not 
superstitious I 

But his Friday proved unkind, for, though it was the 
end of July, it rained hard when Marie woke in the 
morning and there was a chill wind blowing. 

She sat up in bed and stared at the window, down 
which the raindrops were pouring, with incredulous 
eyes. 

How could the weather possibly be so bad on such a 
day ! It was the first faint shadow across her happiness. 

The second came in the shape of a wire from 
Dorothy Webber, to say she could not possibly come 
after all. Her mother was ill, and she was wanted at 
home. Marie was bitterly disappointed, but she was 
young and in love; the world lay at her feet, and long 
before she was dressed to go to church her spirits had 
risen again and she was ready to laugh at Atmt Madge, 
who showed signs of tears. 

" If you cry I shall take it as a bad omen," she told 
the old lady, kissing her. " What is there to cry for, 
when I am going to be so happy?" 

Miss Chester put her arms round the girl and looked 
into her face with misty eyes. 



14 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 



"Darling — are you sure, quite sure, that you love 
Chris?" 

"Do I love him?" The brown eyes opened wide 
with amazement. " Why, I have always loved him," 
she isaid simply. 

But she held Miss Chester's hand very tightly as they 
drove to church in the closed car, and for the first time 
her child's face was a little jgrave. Perhaps it was the 
dismal day that oppressed ner, or perhaps at last she 
was beginning to realize that she was taking a serious 
step by her marriage with Chris. 

" It's for all your life, remember," a little warning 
voice seemed to whisper, and she raised her head 
proudly a^ her heart made answer: "I know — and 
there could be no greater happiness." 

It was raining still when they reached the church, and 
the chauffeur held an umbrella over Marie as she stepped 
from the car into the porch. She wore a little traveling 
frock of palest gray, and little gray shoes and stockings, 
and a wide-brimmed hat with a sweeping feather. 

Though she had never felt more grown-up in her life, 
she had never looked such a child, and for a moment a 
queer pang touched the heart of young Lawless as he 
turned at the chancel steps and looked at her as she 
came up the aisle with Miss Chester. 

But Marie's face was quite happy beneath the wide- 
brimmed hat, and her brown eyes met his with such 
complete love and trust that for a moment he wavered, 
and the color rushed to his cheeks. 

But the parson was already there, and the service 
had begun, and in less than ten minutes little Marie 
Celeste was the wife of the man she had adored all 
her life, and was signing her maiden name for the last 
time with a trembling hand. 

And then they were driving away together in the car, 
to which Aston Knight, with a sentimental remem- 
brance of other weddings, had tied an old shoe, and it 
flopped and dangled dejectedly in the mud and rain 
behind as the car sped homewards. 

And Christopher looked at his wife and said: 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 15 

*' Wdl, we c6tildn't have had a worse day, could we? ** 

Marie smiled. ''What does it matter about the 
weather f*" 

Christopher thought it mattered the deuce o'f a lot, 
but then he was a man, and a man— even a brid^^oom 
—never sees things through the same rose-colored 
glasses as a woman. 

It was such a little way from the church to the house 
that there was no time to say much more, and then 
they were home, and Miss Chester, who had followed 
hard on their heels in another car, was crying over 
Marie and kissing her again, and Marie woke to the 
fact that she was really a married woman! 

There was a sumptuous lunch, to which nobody but 
Aston Knight and the lawyer did justice, and then 
Marie went upstairs and changed her frock, because it 
was still pouring with rain, and wrapped her small self 
into a warm coat, and there were many kisses and 
good-bys, and at last it was all over and she and Chris 
were speeding away together. 

Perhaps it is sometimes a merciful dispensation of 
Providence that the eyes of love are blind, for Marie 
never saw the sfrained look on Christopher's face or the 
way in which his eyes avoided hers. She never thought 
it odd when in the train he provided her with a heap of 
magazines and the largest box of chocolates she had 
ever seen in her life, and unfolded a newspaper for his 
own amusement. 

She ate a chocolate and looked at him with shy 
adoration. He was her husband — she was to live with 
him for the rest of her life! 

There would be no more jf>artings — no more dreary 
months and weeks during which she would never see 
him. He was her very own — forever! 

He seemed conscious of her gaze, for he looked up. 

"Tired?" he asked 

" No.'* 

*' Hungry, then? You ate no lunch.** 

" Oh, I did. I had ever such a lot." 



16 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" We'll have a good dinner to-night, and some cham- 
pagne/' he said. 

"Yes." Marie had never tasted champagne until 
her wedding lunch to-day, and she did not like it, but 
to please Chris she would have drunk a whole bottleful 
uncomplainingly. 

For their honeymoon they were going to a seaside 
town on the East Coast. 

" Wouldn't it be nicer in Devonshire or at the lakes, 
Chris?" Miss Chester had asked timidly, but Chris 
had answered: 

" Good lord, no ! There's nothing to do there. We 
must go somewhere lively." 

So he had chosen the liveliest town on the East Coast 
and the liveliest hotel in the town — a hotel at which he 
had stayed many times before, and was well known. 

He was the kind of man who knew scores of people 
wherever he went, and in his heart he was hoping that 
he would meet scores of them now. 

He gave an unconscious sigh of relief when, later, 
he saw Marie carried up to her room in the lift in the 
company of an attentive chambermaid, who knew that 
they were newly married. He went off to the buffet and 
ordered himself the strongest brandy he could get; 
while upstairs Marie was looking out her prettiest dinner 
frock and trembling with excitement at the thought of 
this new life into which she had so suddenly been 
plunged. 

She was just ready when Chris came knocking at her 
door. He had changed into evening clothes, and was 
very immaculate altogether. 

"Ready?" he asked. His blue eyes wandered over 
her dainty person, "You look like a fairy," he said. 

" Do I ? " she smiled happily. " Do you like my frock ? " 

She turned and twisted for his admiration. 

Chris said it was topping. They went downstairs 
together, the best of friends. 

" I met some fellows just now that I know," he said, 
as *hey sat down to table. " I'll introduce you later. 
They're stopping here." 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 17 

She flushed sensitively. " Did you ? Did they know 
you were married?" she asked. 

" I told them/' 

"Were they very surprised?" 

" Well, they were — raAer," he admitted, and frowned, 
recalling the very downright criticism which he had 
received from at least one of them. 

At dinner Marie obediently drank one glass of cham- 
pagne, and got a headache. She was rather glad to be 
left to hersdf for a little afterwards in the coolness of 
the lounge outside, while Chris went in search of his 
friends. She chose a chair that was not prominent, 
and sat down with closed eyes. 

She had never stayed in a hotel before, and the noise 
and bustle of it aU rather confused her. She was 
wondering how she would ever find her way through 
all the corridors to her room again, when she caught 
the mention of her husband's name. 

It was spoken in a man's voice and spoken with a little 
laugh that sounded rather contemptuous, she thought. 

She sat up instantly, headache forgotten. Probably 
this was one of the friends of whom Chris had spoken 
to her before dinner. She leaned a little forward, try- 
ing to see the speaker, but a group of ornamental 
palms and flowers successfully obscured him. 

The man, whoever he was, was talking to another, for 
presently Marie heard a laugh and a second voice say: 
"Chris Lawless! Oh, yes, I know him! Is he really 
married?" 

"Yes — ^married a girl he's known all his life. Quite 
a child, so they say." 

"How romantic!" 

" Romantic ! " The man echoed the word rather 
c)mically. "There's not much romance in it from all 
accounts — ^just a business arrangement, I should call 
it." 

Marie sat quite still. She was not conscious of listen- 
ing, but there seemed no other sound in all the world 
than this man's rather hard voice as he went on: 

"Lawless was old Chester's adopted son, you know. 



18 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

and the girl was Chester's daughter. There was si. 
stack of money to leave, it seems, and when the old 
man died he left it in his will that they were to have 
half each on condition they married — ^but if they didn't, 
the whole lot went to the girl! Well, you know what 
Lawless is? He wasn't going to let a good thing like 
that escape him, you bet! So he just made up to 
the girl and married hen They're down here on their 
honeymoon." 

"You mean — ^he's not keen on the girl?" 

"Of course he's not! He's not the sort. Never 
cared for women! Have you ever heard of him being 
mixed up with one ? I never have ! Of course, I don't 
know what the girl's like — I'm rather curious to meet 
her, I admit — ^but from what I know of Chris, and his 
way of living, I'm dashed sorry for her! She'll find 
she's married a bachelor husband, and no mistake." 

Marie sat perfectly still, her eyes fixed on her white 
slippers as if she saw them now for the first time; her 
hands loosely clasped in her lap, her new wedding ring 
shining in the light above her head. 

It was strange that she never for one moment ques- 
tioned the tru& of what that voice had said. In her 
heart she knew that she had always thought her happi- 
ness too great to last. She drew a long, hard breath, 
as if it hurt her. The end had come sooner than she 
had expected, that was all! 

"Don't think I'm running him down, you know," 
the voice went on emphatically. " I think he's the best 
old chap in the world ; but some men are made like 
that, you know! Bom bachelors." 

Marie smiled faintly. Poor old Chris! What an 
awful position for him. She shut her eyes tightly with 
a quick feelmg of giddiness. 

What could she do now? What could she say to 
him? Ought she to tell him? 

She tried to think, but scMnehow her brain felt woolly 
and would not work. There was a queer little pain in 
her hand, and looking down blankly, she saw that her 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 19 

{fails had cut deeply into her flesh, their clasp of on6 
another had been so cruel. 

" The money was left between them on condition 
they married — otherwise she got it all." 

The words beat against her brain as if daring her 
to forget them. 

Poor Chris! He had always been fond of money. 
He had fiever had enough to spend I She could remem- 
ber when he first went to Oxford, how often he wrote 
home for extra money. 

It had never been refused, either. She knew that her 
father had always preferred him to hersdf, strange as 
it might seem, and had encouraged him in his extrava- 
gances. 

Incidents out of the past flitted before her like pano- 
ramic pictures; Chris as a long-legged schoolboy as she 
had first seen him, Chris in cricketing flannels, making 
her do all the bowling and fielding while he had the bat, 
Chris in his first silk hat, daring her to laugh at him — 
and, last of all, Chris as he had looked at her that day 
outside Westminster Abbey when he asked her to marry 
him. 

She could remember that he had said, " Well, is the 
idea too dreadful?" and she supposed now he had 
said that because the idea had been dreadful to him. 

A bachelor husband! It seemed so completely to 
simi up the situation, and before her eyes rose a dread- 
ful picture of the future in which Chris would be 
nothing more to her than he had been during the past 
five years. 

He would never want to be with her. He would still 
go his own way. He would make his own friends and 
his own amusements, and she — ^what could she do with 
the rest of her life? 

" He's on his honeymoon here, you know," the voice 
went on with just a shade of amusement in it. " Fancy 
a honeymoon in this hotel ! He didn't mean to be dull, 
did he? I suppose he knew he was morally certain to 
meet half his pals down here." 

Marie's hands were tearing a little lace handkerchief 



20 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

she carried — ^it had been her wedding handkerchief — 
Aunt Madge had given it to her just before they started 
for church, and had told her that her mother had 
carried it at her wedding. 

"But I hope you will be much, much happier than 
your mother, darling child/' so Aunt Madge had said 
as she kissed hen A 

Poor Aunt Madge! And poor mother! Mjl|^Jcnew 
that her mother's marriage had been an)rthing bunliappy, 
and she was glad when she saw that unconsciously she 
had torn the little lace handkerchief to rags. At least 
now it could not be handed on to any other poor little 
bride as an omen of ill-luck. 

"What about that game of billiards?" the voice 
asked with a yawn, and there was a movement on the 
other side of the bank of ferns which hid the speaker 
from Marie. 

She could not see him as he moved away, and she 
sat on, numbed and cold, until presently Chris came 
looking for her and found her out. 

"Here you are then! I thought you were in the 
drawing-room. I want to introduce you to Dakers, 
Marie Celeste!" He seemed conscious all at once of 
her pallor. " Don't you feel well ? " he asked. 

She rose to her feet, forcing a smile. 
My head aches a little. I think it was the cham- 
pagne. 

Chris laughed. 
Silly kid! It will do you good.' 

He slipped a careless hand through her arm and led 
her across the lounge to where a group of men stood 
dbatting and laughing together. 

He touched one of them on the shoulder. 

"DsJcers — I want to introduce you to my wife " 

He rushed the last two words nervously. "Marie, 
this is Dakers— otherwise Feathers. I hope you'll be 
friends." 

Marie gave him her hand. Was this the man who 
had brought her castle tumbling down? she wondered^ 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 21 

and her brown eyes were full of unconscious pathos as 
she raised them to his face. 

What an ugly man, she thought, with a sudden feeling 
of aversion, with blunt, roughly-cut features, and a skin 
burnt almost black by constant exposure to wind and 
weather, but his face when he smiled was kindly, and 
involuntarily she returned the pressure of his fingers. 

And then he spoke, and she recognized his voice in- 
stantly as the voice of the man who, with careless in- 
difference, had blasted her happiness. 

" Delighted to meet you," he said. " I know your 
old rascal of a husband well, Mrs. Lawless. Many a 
good time we've had together in the past." 

" And shall have in the future," Qiris struck in casu- 
ally. "Don't put it so definitely in the past." 

He turned to a boyish-looking youth who had been 
standing looking on rather sheepishly. " Marie, this is 
Atkins." 

The boy blushed and grinned. He gripped Marie's 
hand with bearlike fervency. 

"Awfully pleased to meet you," he said. "Shall 
we go and look on? Chris and Feathers are going to 
play pills." 

Marie raised dazed eyes to him. 
Feathers — ^who is Feathers?" she asked helplessly. 
I'm Feathers," Dakers explained casually. "So- 
called on account of my hair — which invariably stands 
up on end. You may have noticed." 

He passed a big hand over his shaggy head, and 
Marie smiled. 

" Anyway, I don't know what the game of pills is," 
she said. 
, The boy Atkins began to explaifi. 

" It's billiards. They're rotten players, both of them, 
and we shall get some fun out of watching them. I'll 
find you a good seat." 

Chris looked at his wife dubiously. 

"If you're tired — ^if you'd rather I didn't play," he 
b^an difildently, but the girl shook her head. 

" Oh, no, please I I should love to watch." 



it 



22 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Whatever he had done, she never for one moment 
lost sight of the fact that she loved him — ^that he was 
eversrthing in the world to her, and though as yet she 
could not realize the ftill enormity of what she had just 
discovered, her one dread was lest she should still fur- 
ther alienate him. She knew that Chris was so easily 
bored and annoyed; she knew that he hated headachy 
people. He liked a woman to be a pal to him — ^that 
was, when he considered the sex at all. 

It was odd that during the last half -hour the rela- 
tionship which she had imagined had existed between 
them since the moment when he asked her to marry him 
had been utterly wiped out of her mind. He was once 
again just the Chris whom she had always blindly 
adored, without hope of reciprocity; the Chris who 
occasionally condescended to be kind to her — ^as a man 
might occasionally be kind to a lost dog which has 
attached itself to him. 

She went with young Atkins to the billiard room and 
sat beside him on a high leather couch, and tried to 
listen while he explained the game, but it all sounded 
like double Dutch. The smoke of the many cigars 
and cigarettes of the men around her made her eyes 
smart, arid the subdued light made her feel giddy. She 
did her best to be interested, but it was difficult. 

Chris had taken off his coat to be more free to play, 
and he looked a fine figure of a man in his shirt-sleeves, 
she thought, as he stood chalking his cue and laughing 
with Feathers. 

He never once glanced at his wife. She supposed he 
thought that she was quite happy and entertained by 
young Atkins. 

And this was the first night of her honeymoon? She 
realized it in a pitying sort of way, as if she were con- 
sidering the case of some girl other than herself. It 
seemed dreadfully sad, she thought, and then smiled, 
realizing that she was the little wife whom she was 
pitying, and that the tall man over the other side of 
the room, so engrossed in his game, was her husband. 

What other wife in the world had spent the first 






A BACHELOR HUSBAND 23 

evening of her married life watching a game of bil- 
liards^ she wondered? And a little helpless laugh 
escaped her. 

Young Atkins looked down quickly. 
I beg your pardon. What did you say?" 
Nothing — I only laughed." 

She bit her lip to prevent the laugh from coming 
again. How stupid she was, because nothing amusing 
had happened. 

Only once Qiris came across to her. 

" Would you like some coffee?" he asked. 

"No, thank you." 

" Do your head good/' he said, but without looking at 
her. His eyes were watching the table the whole time, 
and without waiting for her to speak again he went off 
back to the game. 

" Qiris really plays a thumping good game," Atkins 
confided to her. ** I always tell him he's a rotten 
player, but he isn't a rotten player at anything, really 1 
Fine sportsman, you know." 

Marie nodded. She knfew everything there was to 
know about Qiris. At home she had a scrapbook, her 
most treasured possession, carefully pasted up with 
every little newspaper cutting that had ever been printed 
about him, from the first long jump he had won at a 
local school to an account of a wedding a few months 
back at which he had been best man. 

She had whispered to Aunt Madge as they kissed 
good-by, to be sure to cut the announcement of their 
wedding from the newspapers so that she could add 
it to her collection, and Aunt Madge had promised. 
Somehow it made her feel sick now to think of it! 
Such a farcical wedding — no real wedding at all! No 
wonder they had wanted it quiet! 

Though she hardly looked at the table before her she 
seemed to see nothing but those smooth, ivory balls, 
and the only sound in the world was their monotonous 
dick, click! 

Chris was winning, young Atkins whispered to her. 



€4 



24 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Poor old Feathers was not in the running at all. He 
bent a little closer to her. 

Have you seen Chris play tennis?" he asked. 

Gad! He can serve! As good as any Wimbledon 
* pro ' I I'll bet my boots. • . . I say, what's the mat- 
ter? Here, Chris!" 

He called sharply across the room to Chris, but it 
was too late, for Marie had slipped fainting from the 
high leather couch. 



1 



CHAPTER III 

** . • . the leaves are curled apart. 
Still red as from the broken heart, 
And here's the naked stem of thorns." 

rr^HE game stopped abruptly, and between them 
Chris and Feadiers carried Marie from the room. 
" It was the smoke, and the heat I " Atkins kept 
saying in distress. He felt angry with himself for not 
having noticed how pale she looked. " It was jolly 
hot I It was the smoke and stuffiness. It's only an 
ordinary faint, isn't it?" 

Nobody took any notice of him, or answered him, 
but he kept on talking all the same. He was young 
and impressionable, and he thought Marie was alto- 
gether charming. He was thankful when at last her 
lashes fluttered and she opened her eyes. 

Feathers, who was bending over her, moved away, 
and Chris came forward. 

"Better?" he asked. "It was the hot room; 111 
take you upstairs. It's all right, you only fainted." 

Only fainted! Years afterwards he remembered the 
passionate look in her brown eyes as she raised them to 
his face, and wondered what her thoughts had been. 
Perhaps he would have understood a great deal of what 
she was suffering if he had known that the wild words 
trembling on her lips were: 

"I wish I could have died! I would like to have 
died!" 

Feathers picked up her gloves and fan, which had 
fallen to the floor. His ugly face was commiserating 
as he looked at her. 

'" %e room was very stuffy. It was inconsiderate oi 

«5 



26 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

us to let you be there, Mrs. Lawless. I am afraid it 
was my fault ! " 

His fault. Everything was his fault, she told her- 
self bitterly, as she turned away. And yet— surely it 
was better to know now the true facts of her marriage 
than to learn them later on — ^when it was too late. 

A bachelor husband. How infinitely funny it was! 
She looked at Chris as he walked with her to the stairs. 
His eyes were concerned, but as he had said, she had 
" only fainted," and a faint was nothing. She wondered 
if he would have cared had she been dead. 

He slipped a hand through her arm to steady her. 

" I am afraid it was all my fault," he said. " You 
told me you were tired. I'm sorry, Marie Celeste," 

Her lip quivered at the sound of the two little names. 
Nobody but Chris ever called her that, and she turned 
her head away. 

" I'll fetch one of the maids to look after you," he said, 
as they reached her room. He turned away, but she 
called him back. 

"Chris, I want to speak to you." 

" Well ? " He followed her into the room. A pretty 
room it was^ the best in the hotel, and the very new 
silver brushes and trinkets which Aunt Madge had given 
her for a wedding present were laid out on the dressing- 
table. 

When she had dressed there for dinner only two 
hours ago she had been the happiest girl in the world, 
but now ... a long, shuddering sigh broke from her 
lips. 

Chris was looking at her anxiously. He was worried 
by her pallor, and sorry she had fainted, but he quite 
realized that there was nothing serious in a faint. Some 
women made it a habit, he believed, and he was anxious 
to get back and finish that game of billiards I 

"What do you want to say to me?" he asked. 
"Won't it do presently?" 

She shook her head. 

" No," 

She was standing by the dressing-table, nervously 






A BACHELOR HUSBAND 27 

fingering a little silver box, and for a moment she could 
not speak, then she said in desperation: 

"Chris — I want to tell you — I know all about our 
weddingi " 

He echoed her words blankly. 

" You know all about it. You funny kiA I suppose 
you do. Why " 

He stopped, struck by something in her eyes. 

"What do you mean, Marie Celeste?" 

She turned round and faced him squarely. 
I mean — I know why you married me," she said. 
Why ? " The hot blood rushed to his face. " Who 
told you ? " he asked sharply. 

She shrugged her shoulders. 

"Does that matter? I — ^just found out. And I — ^I 
wanted to say that . . . that it doesn't matter. I — ^I 
think it was quite right of you." 

He looked rather puzzled, then he smiled. 

"Oh, well— if you think it's right " He hesitated, 

and drew a step nearer to her. "Who told you, 
Marie?" he asked. "Aunt Madge agreed with me 
that there was no need for you to know." 

She pushed the soft hair back from her forehead. 
So Aunt Madge had been willing to deceive her as 
well. That hurt. Somehow she had always believed 
in Aunt Madge. 

She managed a smile. 

" What does it matter ? I only thought it was better 
we should start by — ^by not having any secrets. We — 
we've always been good friends, haven't we ? " Friends f 
When she adored him. 

" Of course ! " He gave his agreement readily, and 
a sharp pain touched her heart. It was only friendship, 
then — on his side, at least. She knew how much she 
had longed for him to wipe out that word and substi- 
tute another. 

There was a little silence, then Chris said again: 
** Marie — ^is there an)rthing tiie matter? You look — 
somehow you look— different ! " 



28 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

He walked up to her, and laid his hands on her 
shoulders. 

" Look at me," he said. 

She raised her eyes obediently. 

" Now tell me what is the matter ! " he demanded. 
"There is something you are keeping from me! I 
haven't known you all these years for nothing, you 
know, Marie Celeste." 

There was a little laughing note of tenderness in his 
voice, and for a moment the girl swayed in his grasp. 

If only she could put her arms round his neck and 
lay her head on his breast and tell him the trutH, the 
whole wretched truth of what she had heard! Even if 
he did not love her, it would be such exquisite relief 
to unburden her heart to him, but she did not dare! 

Chris had always hated what he called " scenes." Years 
ago, when they were both children, tears had been the 
last means whereby to win his sympathy or admiration. 
He liked a girl to be a " sport " ; he had always been 
nicest to her when she could take a knock without 
flinching under the pain. 

She remembered that now — forced herself to remem- 
ber it, and nothing else, as she raised her eyes to his. 

"Yes— what is it?" he urged. "Don't be afraid! 
It's all right, whatever it is, I promise you." 

Twice her lips moved, but no words would come, 
and then with a rush of desperation she faltered: 

" It's only — it's only . . . you said just now — we had 
always been good friends ..." 

"Did I?" he laughed. "I was rather under the 
impression that it was you who said that, but never 
mind. Go on ! " 

" Well — ^well ... Can't we go on . . . just being 
good friends? — ^just only being good friends, I mean." 

He did not answer, though it was not possible to mis- 
take her meaning, and in the silence that followed it 
seemed to Marie that every hope she had cherished was 
throbbing away with each agonized heart beat. Then 
his hands fell slowly from her shoulders. 

"You mean — that you don't care for me?" 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 29 

She almost cried out at the tone of his voice. That 
he tried to make it property hurt and amazed, she 
knew, but her heart told her tiiat his one great emotion 
was an overwhelming relief. That he had no intention 
of even pa3dng her Sie compliment of discussion. 

Her lips felt like ice as she answered him in a whisper. 

"No—" And the silence came again before 
Chris said constrainedly: 

" Very well — ^it shall be as you wish — of course ! " 

He waited a moment, but she did not speak, and he 
turned to the door. "Good-night, Marie Celeste." 

" Good-night." 

The door opened, and after a moment she heard it 
shut again softly, and the sound of his footsteps dying 
away down the corridor. 

That nobody should know, that nobody should ever 
guess, was the one feverish thought in Marie's brain as 
she lay awake through the long night, listening to the 
sound of the waves on the shore, and trying to make 
some sort of plans for the future. 

To behave as if nothing were the matter, as if she 
were quite happy. An impossible task it seemed, and 
yet she meant to do it. She would not further alienate 
Chris by scenes and tears. 

If he did not care for her she would not let him 
think that it worried her. Surely, if she were brave and 
turned a smiling face to a world that had suddenly 
grown so empty something good would come out of it 
all. Some small reward would creep out of the black- 
ness that enveloped her. 

Though she knew it was unjust in her heart she laid 
all the trouble at Dakers' door — "Feathers," as Chris 
and young Atkins called him. She ttiought of his ugly, 
kindly face as she lay there in the darkness, and silently 
hated him. She would never be able to like him, she 
would never be able to forgive him. But for him and 
his carelessly spoken words . . . and then she hid her 
face in the pillow, and for the first time the tears came. 
What was the use of blaming him when the blame was 
not his ? How could he help it that Chris did not love 



30 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

her? What was it to do with him if Chris had seen 
fit to marry her in order to get her father's money? 

It was fate, that was all. A cruel fate that had 
drawn a line through her happiness almost before the 
word had been written. 

It hurt unbearably to think that Aunt Madge had 
known all the time. Marie clenched her hands as she 
recalled the old lady's whispered good-by: 

" God bless you and make you very happy ! " 

How could she have said such a thing — knowing 
what she knew? 

" I will be happy, I will," the girl told herself over 
and over again. After all, there were other things in 
the world besides love. 

She got up early, long before the other people in the 
hotel were astir, and went out and down to the sands. 

It was a lovely morning, warm and sunny, and the 
tide was out, leaving a long wet stretch of golden sand 

behind. 

A boy with bare, brown legs was pushing his way 
through the little waves with a shrimping net, and 
further along a man was strolling by the water's edge, 
idly picking up pebbles and throwing them into the sea. 

Marie walked on, the fresh breeze blowing through 
her hair and fanning her tired face. 

Only two months ago and she had been a girl at 
school, with her hair down her back and not a care 
in the world save an occasional heartache when she 
thought of Chris. Only two months! She felt as if 
she had taken a great spring across the gulf dividing 
girlhood from womanhood, and was looking back across 
it now with regretful eyes. 

Why had she been in such a hurry to grow up? She 
understood for the first time what Aunt Madge and other 
grown-up people meant when they said that they looked 
upon their school days as the happiest of their lives. 

" Are mine going to be the happiest ? " Marie thought. 
Even they had not been very happy. She had never been 
very popular at school, and she had never been clever. 
Her lessons had always worried her, and she never quite 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 31 

got over het first feeling of homesickness as the Other 
girls did. 

" You're too sentimental, too romantic \ " so her best 
friend, Dorothy Webber, had often told her. " If you 
don't cure yourself, my dear, you'll find a lot of trouble 
waiting for you in the future." 

She had found it already, sooner even than Dorothy 
had dreamed 

She looked down at her hand with its new wedding 
ring, and a little Hush rose to her pale cheeks. 

" He's mine, at any rate," she told herself fiercely. 
" Even if he doesn't love me, he is my husband, and 
nobody else can have him." 

It was some sort of comfort to know that the adored 
Chris was hers. The knowledge sent some streak of stm*- 
shine across the blackness of last night. 

She strolled along restlessly, blind to the beauty of 
the sea and sky, lost in her own bruised, bewildered 
thoughts. She had passed the boy with the shrimping 
net, and had come abreast with the man sauntering at 
the water's edge without noticing it, until he spoke to 
her. 

" Good morning, Mrs. Lawless." 

She started, flushing painfully as her Cjres met the 
kindly quizzical |^aze of "Feathers." 

He looked uglier than ever in the morning sunshine, 
was her first bitter thought, and he wore a loose, collar- 
less shirt which was open at the neck and showed his 
thick, muscular throat. 

His big feet were thrust into not over-clean white 
canvas shoes, and a damp towel and bathing costume 
htmg inelegantly over one shoulder. 

" Good morning," said Marie. " I thought I was the 
first one up," she added resentfully. 

He laughed carelessly. 

"I'm always up with the lark — or aren't there any 
larks at a place like this? I've had a dip— I like the 
sea to myself, before it's crowded with flappers and fat 
old ladies." 

** Perhaps they prefer it, too," said Marie. The words 



32 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

had escaped her almost before she was aware of it, and 
she flushed hotly, ashamed of her rudeness. 

But " Feathers " only laughed. 

" I knew you didn't like me," he said in friendly 
fashion. " I could read it in your eyes last night." 

She was nonplussed by his frankness. 

"I can't like you or dislike you," she said after a 
moment. " I don't know anything about you." 

" I know you don't," he agreed calmly. " But you 
think you do ! And that's where you are mistaken I If 
you take my advice, Mrs. Lawless, you'll make a friend 
of me." 

She stared at him with growing indignation. 

" Why, whatever for ? " she asked blankly. She had 
never been spoken to in such a manner before. 

Feathers laughed again, and ran his fingers through 
his unruly hair. 

" Well, for one thing, I'm your husband's best friend," 
he said sententiously. "And I always think it's policy 
for a woman to keep in with her husband's best friend. 
What do you think?" 

There was nothing but friendliness in his voice and 
words, but they angered Marie. 

" My husband's friends don't interest me in the least," 
she said untruthfully. 

Feathers stooped and picked up another smooth pebble, 
with which he skillfully skimmed the surface of tiie sea 
half a dozen times. 

" That's a pity," he said. " And sounds as if you are 
very young." He looked down at her. " How old are 
you?" he asked interestedly. 

She ignored the last question. Her eyes were indignant 
as she answered : " It may sound as if I am very young, 
but it also sounds as if you are very rude and inquisi- 
tive." 

His dark face flushed. 

*' I beg your pardon. I hadn't the least intention 
of being either rude or inquisitive," he said hastily. " I 
should like to be friends with you. As a rule, I've no 
use for women any more than . . ." He stopped abruptly, 



it 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 33 

biting his lip, but Marie knew that he had been going 
to add, "Any more than Chris has." 

There was a little silence. 
Have you got any brothers?" he asked abruptly. 

No, of course, I know you haven't. Well, why not look 
upon me as a sort of big brother? " His eyes were upon 
her again; kind eyes they were beneath their shaggy 
brows. 

Marie gave a forced little laugh. 

" Thank you ; I don't want a brother." 

** Not now, of course," he agreed. " But we never 
know what we may want in this queer old world, and 
brothers can be very useful things at times, you know/' 

She did not answer. She thought he was the strangest 
man she had ever met. 

"We ought to be turning back," he said presently, 
" It's nearly nine o'clock, and we're some way from the 
hotel." 

She walked reluctantly beside him. 

Suddenly she asked a question. 

" If you are Chris' best friend, why weren't you his 
best man at — at our wedding?" 

She looked up at him as she spoke, and saw the quick 
frown that crossed his face. 

" Am I to answer that question ? " he asked. 

" Of C(M.rse. I should like to know." 

"Very well, then, as you insist — Chris asked me to 
be best man, or whatever you call it, and I refused." 

" Why ? " She was really interested now. 

" Why ? Well, because — ^before I saw you — I disliked 
the idea of Chris being married. Marriage spoils most 
friendships between men." 

Marie looked out over the sea with wistful eyes. 

" I don't think marriage will spoil Chris' friendships," 
she said, with faint bitterness. 

" No," he agreed, " I am afraid it will not." 

There was a queer, hard note of disapproval in his 
voice, and Marie looked at him in bewilderment. 

"I don't think I understand you," she said angrily. 
" I don't think I understand a bit what you mean." 



34 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 



it 
a 



"PerHaps I don't understand myself/' he answered. 
" Let's leave it at that, shall we, and forget all tht non- 
sense I've been talking?" 

They went up to the hotel silently. There were several 
people about now and a smartly-dressed woman with red 
hair, to whom Fe^ithers bowed formally, stared at Marie 
rather insolently as they passed. 

" Is that one of Chris' friends ? " Marie asked with 
an effort when they were out of hearing. 

" Chris knows her," was the reply. " She is a Mrs. 
Heriot." 

She is very smart," Marie said wistfully. 
Smart ! " Feathers stopped and looked back at the 
woman deliberately. " Do you call her smart ? " he asked, 
mildly amazed. " I think she looks a sight ; but, then, 
so do most of the women in this hotel. I suppose it's 
their way of attracting attention — ^all others failing." 

Marie smiled faintly. 

" You don't like women," she said. 

He shook his shaggy head. 

"I do not," he agreed. 

" And yet — ^just now, you told me I should be wise to 
make a friend of you." 

" I did — ^and I still mean it, and hope some day that 
you will do so. . . . Here is Chris." 

Chris came towards them with a batch of newspapers 
in his hands. He looked at his wife with faint embarrass- 
ment. 

" Early birds I " he said, and then, as Feathers moved 
away. " Is your head better, Marie Celeste ? " 

She smiled nervously. 

*'Oh, yes, it's quite gone! I got up early and had 
a long walk along the sands, and I met Mr. Dakers^ 
and he came back with me." 

"Call him 'Feathers,'" said Chris. "Everybody 
does." 

"Do they? But I hardly know him ! " 

" You soon will." He looked at her doubtfully. " Do 
you think you will manage to have a good time here, 
Marie?" 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 35 

" Oh, yes, with • • . " " With you," she had been 
going to add, but stopped. She felt instinctively that she 
would not be allowed to have much of her husband's un- 
divided attention. There were so many people in the 
hotel who were friends of his. 

" There is a Mrs. Heriot here who knows you," she 
said, more for something to say than for any other rea- 
son, and she was surprised at the way Qiris suddenly 
flushed. 

" Yes, I know," he said. " I saw her last night." 

They went in to breakfast together. Marie thought 
she had never seen such a big room. She kept close to 
Chris, conscious that all eyes were upon her. 

Feathers and young Atkins occupied a table a little 
way from theirs, and Atkins got up as soon as he saw 
Marie, and came over to ask how she was. 

" I'm quite well, thank you, and isn't it a lovely morn- 
ing?" 

" Ripping I I say, can you swim ? " 

"Yes." 

Chris looked up. " Can you ? " he asked in surprise, 
then laughed and colored, realizing how very little he 
really knew about Marie and her accomplishments. 

" I wish people wouldn't stare at me so," she said to 
him nervously, when breakfast was over and they were 
out in the lotmge once more. " Is there anything funny- 
looking about me, Chris?" 

He cast a casual eye over her daintiness. 

"You look all right," he said, without much enthu- 
siasm. " Probably they know we're newly married/' he 
added. 

Marie said nothing, but she turned away from him 
and looked out over the sea, a little wintry smile on her 
quivering lips. 

He was quite indifferent to her, she knew! And in 
her passionate pain and bitterness she almost wished for 
his hatred. Anyihing, anything rather than this terrible 
feeling that she was nothing at all in his life ! 

Young Atkins joined them almost immediately and 
attadied himself to Marie 



36 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

"We're going to bathe presently/' he said. "You'll 
come, too, won't you?" 

Marie looked at her husband, but he was talking to 
someone else, and she answered hurriedly. 

" Oh, yes, I'll come, of course ! What time are you 
going?" 

"We generally go about half-past ten — ^before the 
crowd gets down. We'll take a boat out if you're sure 
you can swim." 

She laugKed. " Why, of course, I can ! " 

" Let your breakfast settle first, my boy," said Feathers, 
looking up from his newspaper. " There's no hurry, is 
there?" 

" Oh, shut up ! " said young Atkins lightly. " You're 
always such an old croaker." 

At half-past ten he sought Marie out again. 

" Are you coming ? " he asked. " It'll be topping this 
morning " 

"I know — Chris has gone to phone to someone. I 
wonder if I ought to wait ..." 

" Of course not ! He'll be all right f Leave a mes- 
sage." 

" Very well." It would be a good opportunity to show 
him that she did not depend on him for her amusement 
she thought desperately. She went oflF through the sun- 
shine with young Atkins chattering nineteen to the dozen 
beside her. 

It was a perfect morning ! Marie stood for a moment 
on the steps of the bathing machine in her blue and white 
costume, and looked up at the sun! It might be such 
a perfect world if only things were a little different! 
She wondered if there was always something in life to 
prevent people being too happy. 

Young Atkins called to her from a diving stage a little 
distance out, and she dived into the water and swam 
out to him. 

" Ripping, isn't it ! " he said as she clambered up to 
sit beside him in the sun " Look here I I'll race you 
round that buoy and back. Will you?" 

" Yes — 111 bet you a box of cigarettes I win." 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 37 

" Right I Bet you a box of chocolates you don't. Now 
then — one, two, three ! Go ! " They dived from the 
staging together, laughing and full of excitement. They 
were both good swimmers, and for a little they kept 
abreast, then slowly but surely young Atkins forged 
ahead 

Marie felt rather tired. They were swimming towards 
the sun and its brightness blinded her. Her headache 
had returned, too; she had almost forgotten it tmtil a 
little stabbing pain in her temples made her close her 
eyes. 

She thought it must be because she had not slept all 
night ! That would account for her feeling of wealoaess 
and lassitude. She ought not to have come out so far — 
sudden panic closed about her heart — she tried to call 
to the boy ahead of her, but a little wave broke in her 
face and carried her voice away. She thought that she 
screamed — she was quite sure that she screamed aloud 
in terror before someone put out the sunshine and blotted 
out the world, leaving only miles and miles of clear, 
green water, into whidi she sank slowly down • • • 



\ 



CHAPTER IV 

Thy friend will come to thee unsought 
With nothing can his love be bought; 
Trust him greatly and for aye, 
A true friend comes but once your way." 

CHRIS LAWLESS came back into the hotel lounge 
almost as soon as his wife and young Atkins had 
left it. He looked quickly round for Marie. 

His conscience had begun to prick him a little. He 
had noticed the pallor of Marie's face at breakfast time, 
and the something strained in her determined cheeriness, 
and, good fellow as he really was at heart, he f dt un- 
happy. 

He had meant to do the right thing by her when he 
married her. He had always prided himself upon being 
a sportsman. He had no intention of allowing people 
to say that he neglected his wife, or that his marriage 
had turned out a failure. He liked everything he under- 
took to be a success. 

And he was fond of Marie ! He had always been fond 
of her in his own way. There was no earthly reason 
that he could see why they should not get on ideally 
well together. 

v; But Marie was not in the lounge. He looked round 
with a slight frown, and his gaze fell upon Feathers, 
yawning behind his paper. 

Chris went up to him. 

"Where's Marie?'* 

" She went out just now with Atkins. I heard them 
say something about a swim.'* 

Chris looked annoyed. 

" She ought to have waited for me," he said shortly. 
" Atkins takes too much upon himself." 

38 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 39 

Feathers rose and threw down his paper. 

" They've only just gone," he said. " We can catch 
them up if you come now." 

But Chris was thoroughly out of temper. He had 
letters to write, he said, and no .doubt Marie would be 
back before long. He turned away and Feathers strolled 
out into the sunshine alone. 

He knew to which beach Marie and Atkins had gone, 
and he sauntered slowly along in that direction. 

It was a glorious morning, and the sea front was 
crowded. The hot sun beat down on his uncovered head 
and dark face, and one or two women looked after him 
interestedly. 

Feathers was not just merely ugly to all women. Some 
of them realized the strength and character in his face, 
and with true femininity wondered what his wife was 
like! 

But Feathers was unmarried, and fully intended to 
remain so. He had spent a roving life, and always de- 
clared that he was not going to put on a clean collar or 
wash his hands unless he felt inclined to for any woman's 
sake. 

" Not that any woman is ever likely td interest her- 
self either in my hands or collars," he added ruefully. 

Chris had sworn eternal bachelorhood also, which 
partly accounted for Feathers' disgust when he wrote to 
him of his intended marriage. 

He had written back a sarcastic letter which Chris had 
carefully destroyed without showing it to Marie. 

" I never thought you were a petticoat follower , . . 
What in the name of all that's holy has made you change 
yotir mind? Is it money, brains, or merely a pretty face? 
No, I will not be your best man — I won't even come to 
your beastly wedding. If you choose to get into a tangle 
like this you can do so without my assistance, and later 
on, if you want to get out of it, dorft come crying to me 
for help either. I wash my hands of you ! " 

He had been quite prepared to dislike Marie, and was 
surprised because he did not; but then — so he argued 
to himself — ^how could anybody dislike such a child? 



40 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

And his sentiments veered right round the other way, 
until he decided that in all probability she would need 
protecting from Chris, though why, or in what way, he 
had not die smallest idea. 

But he had offered her his friendship in all good faith, 
and was feeling a little sore at the manner of her refusal 
as he strolled along now in the sunshine through the 
crowds of holiday-makers, keeping a careless look-out 
for young Atkins. 

There were a great many people bathing, and he 
stopped for a moment, one foot on the low railing that 
divided the promenade from the beach, scanning the 
water. 

There was a good deal of laughter and chattering and 
screaming going on amongst the girls and women in the 
water, and he watched them with a sort of amused con- 
tempt. Why did thiey bathe if they found it so cold, 
and what fun could there be in standing in a lew inches 
of water shivering and screaming? 

And then all at once a change came over the whole 
scene. From light-hearted frivolity it seemed to turn 
to panic and fear. People left their seats on the parade 
and crowded down to the sands. A man's voice, frantic 
and agonized, raised itself above all the chatter and 
noise. 

Feathers knew instinctively what had happened. He 
vaulted the low railing and ran across the sands, tearing 
off his coat as he went. 

He kicked off his shoes at the water's edge and dashed 
into the sea, wading until the depths took him off his 
feet, and then swimming strongly. 

A boat was circling round and round helplessly some 
way beyond the diving board. A youth in a wet bathing 
suit, white as a ghost and shivering with fright, was 
bending low over its bow, searching the smooth water 
with terrified eyes ; when he caught sight of Feathers he 
broke into agonized words: 

"Feathers] For God's sake! She's gone! Mrs. 
Lawless! She screamed and I tried to get to her . . . 
I was too late, and she went down« ... It must have 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 41 

l>een cramQ — she was all right a moment before. . • • Oh, 
for God's sake I " 

He dived from the boat to his friend's side^ but 
Feathers shook him off. 

" Get away . . . you fool I Can't you see you're ham- 
pering me?" 

He dived again and again, desperately swimming under 
water in a vain search for the drowning girl. 

Young Atkins had clambered back to the boat. He 
sat there in the hot sunshine, his face in his hands, sob- 
bing like a woman. 

He felt that it was all his fault He knew he could 
never be able to face Chris again. Over and over in his 
mind rang the tragic words : " And she was only mar- 
ried yesterday ! Only married yesterday ! " 

At that moment he would gladly have given his life 
for hers. He felt that he would not go on Uving if she 
had gone. 

And then a sudden wild shout went up from the 
crowds on the beach. Young Atkins looked up, not 
daring to hope, and there in the sea, only a few yards 
from the boat, the rough dark head of Feathers ap- 
peared above the smooth water, swimming strongly with 
one arm and supporting a small, helpless object with 
the other. 

He seemed to have forgotten the boat, for he made 
straight for the shore, and though eager men Waded out 
to his help, and a dozen pairs of arms were stretched 
out to take his burden from him, he shook his head and 
held her jealously. 

" Beauty and the beast ! " someone whispered as the 
tall, ugly man waded ashore with the girl's limp body in 
his arms. 

Perhaps he heard, for at any rate a faint, grim smile 
crossed his dark face as he laid her down on the warm 
sands. 

There was a doctor amongst the crowd, and a little 
group closed about her, chafing her limbs, working her 
arms up and down, frantically trying to beat life back 
into the inert little body. 



42 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Feathers stood by^ breathing hard, the water dripping 
from him. 

He kept his eyes fixed on Marie's deathly face. 

A woman in the crowd began to cry, " Poor child f 
Poor child ! " For Marie Celeste looked only a child as 
she lay there, her wet hair tumbled all around her. 

" It's too late, she's gone ! " someone else said, hope- 
lessly, and Feathers turned like a lion. 

" It's not too late," he thundered. He went down on 
his knees beside her, exhausted as he was, and worked 
like a giant to save her, and all the time he was wonder- 
ing what Chris would do, what Chris would say, and 
if he would be expected to break the news to him. 

And then, after a long time, a little shell-like tinge of 
color crept back to the marble whiteness of Marie's 
face — ^the doctor gave a little exclamation, and went on 
with his work harder than before. 

Feathers asked him a harsh question: 

"Can we save her?" 

"I think so— yes!..." 

Each moment seemed an eternity, until, with labored, 
choking breaths and little gasping cries, Marie struggled 
back to life and the golden summer morning. 

Feathers rose to his feet. " I'll go on and tell her. hus- 
band. You're sure she's out of danger?" 

The doctor smiled, well pleased. 

*' Oh, she's all right now." He turned to the stretcher 
upon which they had laid the girl, and Feathers started 
to walk away, but the crowd would not have this. They 
surged round him, slapping him on the back and cheer- 
ing him to the echo. They were only too eager and 
willing to give praise where it was due, and at last, in 
desperation. Feathers broke into a run and eluded them. 

He went into the hotel across the garden, and through 
a side door, his dripping clothes leaving little wet marks 
all the way. He met one of the porters in the passage. 
The man stopped with a gasp of dismay. 

"Good heavens, sir! Has there been an accident?" 

" Yes, one of the ladies here, a Mrs. Lawless, but she's 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 43 



all right now. Can you find her husband for me ? He's 
probably in the writing-room. Do you know him? " 

" Oh, yes, sir, but . . ." 

" Well, clear off and fetch him, then ! I'm all right — 
don't make a fuss. They're bringing her here. Hurry, 
man, hurry!" 

He was back in a moment with Chris, looking greatly 
mystified and not at all upset, for the porter had been 
afraid to tell him the truth of what had happened, and 
had merely said he was wanted. 

Feathers explained in a few words. 

"Mrs. Lawless got out of her depths or got cramp 
or something, but she's all right. She had a nasty scare, 
though. It's all right; they're bringing her along." 

Chris went dreadfully white. He clutched his friend's 
arm. " You're not lying to me ! " he said, hoarsely. 
" She's not— dead ! " 

Feathers laughed. " Good lord, man, no ! I tell you 
it's all right. She got a bit of a ducking. She's probably 
back in the hotel by this time; you'd better go and see 
for yourself." 

But Chris had gone before he had finished speaking, 
and Feathers crept away up to his room and peeled off 
his sodden clothes. 

He felt very exhausted now it was all over. It had 
been a ghastly five minutes when he dived again and 
again into that still green water. He felt that he would 
never care for the sea in the same way any more. 

Supposing she had been drowned ! Although he knew 
that she was safe and well, and to-morrow would prob- 
ably be none the worse for her accident. Feathers in- 
voluntarily echoed the words of the woman in the crowd 
who had wept, 

"Poor child! poor child!" 

He laughed at himself directly afterwards, as he got 
into a dry suit, tried to reduce some sort of order to his 
unruly hair, and went downstairs. 

He was a simple sort of fellow, and thought so little of 
his own action that it gave him a positive shock when the 
visitors in the lounge insisted on giving him a cheer as 



44 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

he went through. The news of what had occurred had 
spread like wildfire and, redfaced and frowning angrily. 
Feathers had to submit to being made a hero. 

Mrs. Heriot, who had hitherto deliberately avoided 
him, insisted on shaking hands, and gushed that she was 
80 proud of him, so delighted to know such a brave man. 

Feathers turned on her almost fiercely. 

" It's all rubbish," he declared. " I happened to be 
the nearest, that was all ! For heaven's sake, Mrs. Heriot, 
say no more ! " 

He went without his lunch because he could not bear 
the battery of eyes which he knew would be upon him 
all the time. He sat up in his own room reading until 
Atkins, still pale and shaken, came knocking at the door. 

Feathers said, "G)me in," not very pleasantly, and the 
boy went across to him and held out an unsteady hand. 

" I say, you're a ripping sport I " he said in heartfelt 
tones. "If she'd gone I should have jumped in and 
drowned myself; I swear I should." 

" And a lot of good that would have done," Feathers 
said dryly. '*l«'or heaven's sake, chuck it, young 'un, 
and talk about something we can all enjoy." 

But Atkins apparently could talk of nothing else, and 
he kept harping on the same subject until in desperation 
Feathers took him by the shoulders and put him outside. 

Even then there was no peace, for almost directly 
Chris himself arrived. 

They tdl me you saved her life," he said agitatedly. 

I ought to have guessed! It's the kind of thing you 
would do. I can't — can't tell you how grateful I anu 
If anything had happened to her . . ." 

Feathers chucked the book he was reading across the 
room with violence. 

" Well, nothing has happened to her," he said crossly. 
" So, for the love of Mike, shut up f " He walked over 
to the window. " I suppose she is all right ? " he asked 
casually. 

" She's weak, of course, but the doctor says she'll be 
quite herself in a day or two." Chris hesitated. " She'd 
like to see you, Featibers." 






A BACHELOR HUSBAND 45 



Feathers ran a distracted hand across his hair. 

" More heroics ! " he said savagely. " Well, I refuse ! 
I absolutely refuse! I hate this tommyrot, I tell ypu!'' 

Chris looked offended. *' I think she'll be hurt if you 
don't go/' he said diffidently. 

There was a little silence. 

" Oh, all right 1 " Feathers turned resignedly to the 
door. " Do I go now, and do you come with me ? " 

" Yes.'' 

They went out of the room together and along the 
corridor. 

Marie was lying on a sofa by the window, wrapped in 
a blue woolly gown. Her dark hair was spread over the 
pillow behind her, and she looked very frail and wan. 

She held out her hand to Feathers, smiling faintly. 

" I know you'll hate it," she said weakly, " but — I want 
to thank you. They tell me " — ^her brown eyes went past 
him to where Jier husband stood — " Chris tells me that 
you saved my life." 

Feathers managed a laugh. 

" Chris exaggerates," he said uncomfortably. " I hap- 
pened to be lucky enough to pull you out — ^that was all. 
I hope you'll soon feel yourself again." 

" Thank you, yes." He was still holding her hand, and, 
suddenly realizing it, he let it go abruptly. 

C3ms had gone to the door with the doctor, and for a 
moment Marie and Feathers were alone. 

" Mr. Dakers," she said hesitatingly. 

" Yes." 

Her brown eyes were raised to his ugly face appeal- 
ingly. 

" I was horrid to you this morning, I know ! It was — 
hateful of me! But there was a reason • • • some day 
I'll tell you." 

He fidgeted uncomfortably. "Oh, don't worry, Mrs. 
Lawless; it's all right." 

" Yes, but it isn't," she insisted wealdy. *' And I want 
to say that — ^that if you would still like me to look upon 
you as — ^as a sort of big brother" . . . she smiled 
tremulously. 



. 46 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Feathers frowned so heavily that his eyes ahnost van- 
ished beneath their shaggy brows. 

"All this because I pulled you out of two feet of 
water ? " he growled. 

Tears swam into her eyes. 

" It was a good deal more than two feet of water, and 
you know it was! And — ^and — ^it isn't anything to do 
with that at all I It's just you — ^you yourself I I should 
like to have you for a friend." 

There was a little silence, then Feathers held out his 
hand 



CHAPTER V 

*Tor all the world to my fond heart means you, 
And there is nothing left when you are gone." 

MARIE'S narrow escape from death did her one 
good turn — it sealed her friendship with Feathers, 
and in the days that followed she owed ahnost 
ever3rthing to him. 

Qiris (fid his best. He really thought he was pla)ring 
the part of a model husband; he loaded her with sweets 
which she could not eat and presents which she did not 
want He was in and out of her room ceaselessly — a 
little too ceaselessly, thought the doctor, who soon dis- 
covered that her husband's presence did not have a very 
soothing eflfect upon his patient. 

She always seemed nervous and restless when Chris 
was around, and after a little hesitation the doctor told 
Chris frankly that it would be better if Marie was not 
allowed so many visitors. 

Chris opened his handsome eyes wide. 

" Visitors ! Why, she doesn't have any except me, and 
occasionally Atkins and Feathers — ^Dakers, I mean." 

"I know — ^but I think she should not be disturbed 
during the afternoon at all — ^not even by you," he added 
with a deprecating smile. " She is not at all strong, and 
this unfortunate accident has been a severe shock to her 
sjrstem. It will be months before she properly recovers." 

Chris was not in the least oflfended, but it worried him 
to think that possibly Marie was going to be more or 
less of an invalid. He had never had a day's sickness 
himself, and, like most men, he was impatient and over- 
anxious when it overtook anybody immediately connected 
with himself. 

" Do you think I ought to take her back to London ? " 

47 



48 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

he asked. " Perhaps she would be better looked after 
at home." 

" She is far better here than in London," was the em- 
phatic reply. " This East Coast air is just what is needed 
to brace her up. No; if she is allowed to rest she will 
be all right." 

Chris told Marie what the doctor had said. 

" I am not to worry you — I am in and out of your 
room too often." He looked at her anxiously. " What 
do you think, Marie Celeste?" 

She smiled faintly. "I suppose the doctor knows 
best." 

"Yes, I suppose he does," Chris agreed, but he felt 
slightly irritated If she wanted him to stay with her, 
why on earth didn't she say so? It never occurred to 
him that since her accident Marie had suffered agonies 
because she feared that he was wearied by her helpless- 
ness and unutterably bored because he was more or less 
chained to her side. 

She had a vivid recollection of a day, years ago, when, 
as a child, she had fallen from the stable loft, and Chris 
had come to see her when she was in bed. 

He had stood in the doorway, red-faced and awkward, 
hands thrust into his pockets, staring at her with half- 
angry, half-sympathetic eyes. 

She had thanked him profusely for condescending to 
come at all, and he had asked gruffly by way of graceful 
acknowledgment, "How long have you got to stick 
in bed? When will they let you get up and come out 
again?" 

Tears had filled her eyes as she answered him, " I don't 
know — ^weeks, I suppose I " 

Chris said " Humph ! " and stared at his boots. " It's 
topping out of doors I " he said unkindly. " I'm going 
blackberrying this afternoon." 

That was Sie one and only visit he had paid her during 
the weeks of her illness, and afterwards he had told her 
that he hated sick rooms, and that he supposed women 
were always more or less ailing. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 49 

So now she made every effort to get well and strong. 
She made too much eflFort, the doctor told her. 

" There's plenty of time/' he said. " Why be in such 
a hurry?" 

And at last, in desperation, she told him. " Doctor, 
it must be awful for Chris — Shaving to wait about here 
just because of me. It can't be much of a holiday for 
him/' 

He looked at her with kindly eyes. " Well, and what 
about you ? " he asked. " It's worse for you, I sup- 
pose ? " 

Marie shook her head. "I — oh, no! He's a man, 
you see, and he's different." 

Dr. Carey said : " Oh, I see," rather drily. He walked 
away from her and came back, " You've been married 
— ^how long? " he asked. 

•' Only a week." 

" Well, it's not long enough for that husband of yours 
to have got tired of dancing attendance on you, anyway," 
he answered. " No, you will not be allowed downstairs 
till Saturday." 

" It must be awfully dull for Chris," she sighed. 

She said the same thing to Feathers when he looked 
in that evening for a few seconds. 

Feathers never brought her flowers or sweets, or 
presents, for which she was thankful, and he never stayed 
more than about five minutes, but he always managed 
to bring a cheeriness into the room with him and leave 
her with a smile in her brown eyes. 

" Dull ! Chris ! " he said, echoing her words bluntly. 
" Not he. Don't you worry, Mrs. Lawless. Chris knows 
how to look after himself." 

He did not tell her that between his .spasmodic visits 
to her Chris was thoroughly enjoying himself. 

He played bridge with Mrs. Heriot and her little crowd 
when there was nothing better to do. He played billiards 
with anybody who would take him on, and that afternoon 
he had been out golfing. 

"What did he do this afternoon?" Marie asked 
wistfully. 



50 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 



" This afternoon ! Oh, let me see ! Well, I believe 
he played golf — ^yes, he did ! " 

" I'm glad — I'm so glad he doesn't stay indoors all 
day," said Marie. 

Feathers frowned 

"Don't you worry about him. I'll look after him," 
he promised. "You make haste and get well and go 
and play golf with him." 

" I can't play golf ! " 

"Well, then, you must learn — I'll teach you! Can 
you play bridge ? " 

"No, I have tried, but Chris says I'm no good at 
cards." 

" Rubbish ! You could play all right with practice ! " 
He looked away from her out of the window where a 
radiant sunset was spreading rays of gorgeous coloring 
across the sea. 

" Chris is the sort of man who likes a woman to be 
sporting," he said, after a moment, speaking rather 
carefully, as if choosing his words. "I mean to say 
that he is a man who would like his wife to be able to 
join him in his own sports I Do you tmderstand ? " 

" Yes." Her eyes were fixed anxiously on his averted 
face, and then she asked suddenly : " And do you ever 
think I could be that sort of wife, Mr. Dakers? " 

Feathers cleared his throat loudly. 

"Do I! Of course, I do!" he said, but his voice 
sounded as If he were as anxious to convince himself 
as he was to convince her. "You're the sort of 
woman who could do an)rthing if you set your mind 
to it." 

She did not speak for a moment, then she said sadly, 
" It's kind of you to say so, but in your heart, you know 
it isn't true." 

He swung round, his face red with distress. " What 
do you mean, Mrs. Lawless ? " 

" I mean that you know I couldn't ever be that sort 
of wife. I'm not made that way. Dorothy used to 
say that I should have been an ideal wife for a man 
in early Victorian days; that I was cut out to stay at 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 51 

home and make jams and bread and jangle keys on my 
chatelaine, and tie up the linen in lavender bags, and 
look after the babies . . /' She broke off, laughmg and 
flushing a little. 

"And who is * Dorothy/ may I ask?" Feathers 
demanded. 

" She was my best friend at school, and she was ever 
such a sport! She could beat all the other girls at 
games, and she could ride horse-back, and — oh, lots 
of things like that ! " 

" She sounds rather a masculine young lady." 

"Oh, no, she isn't! Not a bit! I think you would 
like her ! " A faint smile stole into her eyes. " She 
was another person who was asked to my wedding and 
did not come," she added teasingly. 

Feathers laughed. " And now I suppose if I stay any 
longer Chris will be on my track and say that I'm tiring 
you out." 

"Does he say that?" she asked, and a little gleam 
of eagerness crossed her face. She loved to hear that 
Chris was anxious about her, or that he made it his 
business to see she was not overtired. 

" As a matter of fact, I think it was the doctor who 
said it," Feathers answered innocently. 

" Oh ! " said ilarie disappointedly. . . . 

She persuaded Dr. Carey to allow her downstairs the 
following day, and Chris carried her out into the garden 
and propped her up in a deck chair with cushions and 
rugs. 

"I'm not an invalid really, you know," she said, 
looking up at him shyly. "I could have walked quite 
well." 

She felt bound to say it, and yet not for worlds would 
she have forgone being carried in his arms. The dis- 
tance had seemed all too short. Just for a little she had 
been quite, quite happy. 

Young Atkins was fussing around. He had an enor- 
mous bunch of roses in one hand and all the newest 
magazines in the other. He could not do enough for her. 



52 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

As soon as Chris moved away he dragged a chair up and 
sat down beside her. 

" You look heaps belter/' he declared fervently. He 
always said the same thing every time he saw her. " You 
do feel better, don't you ? " 

She laughed at his eagerness. 

"I really feel quite well, but they will persist that 
I'm an invalid." 

She looked around for Chris, but he had strolled away, 
and she gave a little sigh. 

"I've got to go back to town to-morrow," young 
Atkins said presently. He spoke rather lugubriously. 

"Rotten, isn't it? And, I say, Mrs. Lawless, I may 
come and see you when you get back, mayn't I ? " 

" If you want to— of course ! " 

" Of course I want to ? " He had never been in love 
before, but he was fully persuaded that he was in love 
now, and he never lost an opportunity to scowl at Chris — 
when his back was turned ! 

He moved a little closer to Marie, and looked down 
at her earnestly. 

"If ever there's anything you want done, never be 
afraid to ask me to do it ! " he said. " You'll remember 
that, won't you ? " 

Marie did not take him seriously. She was not used 
to being made love to. She just looked upon him as 
a boy. 

" Why, of course I will ! And there's something you 
can do for me now, if you will — ^see if there are any 
letters." 

" Of course ! " He was off in an instant, and Marie 
looked across the garden, hoping desperately that Chris 
would see she was alone and return. 

But he was laughing and talking with Mrs. Heriot 
and an elderly man and a little chill feeling of unwanted- 
ness stole into her heart. 

Would life always be like this? she asked herself, 
and closed her eyes with a sudden feeling of dread. 

Supposing she had been drowned ! Supposing Feathers 
had not been in time after all ! 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 53 

She tried to believe that Chris would have been broken- 
hearted, but she knew the folly of such a belief. He 
would have been sorry, of course, for they had known 
one another so long — ^been such pals, in the past, at any 
rate! 

"A penny for your thoughts," said Feathers beside 
her, and she looked up with a little half-sigh. 

" You will be angry with me if I tell you." 

"I shall not! Am I ever angry with you?" 

" I think you could be," she answered, seriously. 

He sat down in the chair young Atkins had left. " Tell 
me, and see," he suggested, half in fun. 

Marie looked across at her husband, and then back 
at the man beside her. 

" I was wondering," she said, "what would have hap- 
pened if you had not pulled me out of the sea? " 

" What would have happened ? " He echoed her words 
with mock seriousness. " Well, you would have been 
drowned, of course." 

" I know I I don't mean that I I mean, what would 
have happened to — to Chris — and everyone else." 

Feathers did not answer. He vaguely felt that there 
was some serious question at the back of her words, but 
his experience of women was so small that he was unable 
to understand. 

"We don't want to think of such tEings," he said 
briskly after a moment, "You are alive and well. Isn't 
that all that matters ? " 

She did not answer, and looking at her curiously, he 
was struck by the sadness of her face, by the downward 
curves of her pretty mouth and the wistfulness of her 
eyes, and suddenly he realized that he had inadvertently 
stumbled across a secret which he had never suspected, 
and it was — ^that this girl was unhappy ! 

Whose fault? The question clamored at his brain. 
Chris' fault or her own? He was conscious of anger 
against his friend. 

Chris was sauntering back to them through the sun- 
shine. He looked very careless and debonair, and was 
whistling as he came. 



54 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Feathers rose. " Take this chair/' he said curtly. 

" No, don't you get up." But Feathers insisted, and 
as soon as Chris was seated he walked off to the hotel. 

He went into the lounge and aimlessly took up a paper, 
but he did not read a word. 

Fond as he was of Chris, he knew all his faults and 
limitations, knew just how selfish he could be, and a 
vague fear for Marie grew in his heart. 

A little distance from him Mrs. Heriot and another 
woman were talking. It was quiet in the lounge, and 
Feathers could hear what they were saying, without 
the smallest effort on his part to listen. 

The newspaper screened his face, and he could only 
suppose afterwards that they were unconscious of his 
presence, for Mrs. Heriot said with a rather cynical 
laugh : 

" Did you see our heroine on the lawn, with her cav- 
aliers? Very amusing, isn't it? I don't suppose she 
has ever had so much attention in her life? They say 
that he married her straight from the schoolroom." 

" Really ! She looks only a child ! " the other woman 
answered interestedly. " By the way, which is her hus- 
band? The big. Ugly man, or the good-looking one? " 

Mrs. Heriot. laughed. " My dear ! Do you mean to 
say you don't know! Why, the good-loolang one, of 
course ! " 

" Perhaps it was stupid of me, but I thought — I really 
quite thought that it was the other one. There is some- 
tibing in the way he looks at her ... I can't explain! 
But if you hadn't told me, I should certainly have said 
that he was the one who was in love with her." 

Feathers' big hands gripped the paper with sudden 
tension. 

What cackling, sentimental fools women were! In 
love! He! Why, he had never looked at a woman in 
his life. 

He flung the paper down, and, rising, stalked out of 
the lounge. 

The two women looked after him in blank dismay. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND S5 

*' My dear, do you think he heard ? " the younger one 
whispered. 

Mrs. Heriot laughed spitefully. 

" I hope he did ! It will do him good I He's never 
even commonly civil to a woman/' she said. " But it's 
really rather droll, you thinking he was die husband! 
How he will hate it 1 " 



CHAPTER VI 

''What shall I be at fifty. 

Should nature keep me alive^ 
If I find the world so bitter 
When I am but twenty-five?** 

AT THE end of the week Dr. Carey ceased his visits, 
"You won't need me any more," he assured 
Marie. " Take care of yourself, that is all, and no 
more bathing this season. 

Marie shivered, " No, I promise that." 

She was feeling quite herself again, though she got 
tired easily. She had written to Aunt Madge, making 
light of her accident, and assuring her that there was no 
need to worry. 

" And I am ever so happy," she wrote, with desolation 
in her heart " And I like the hotel, and there are nice 
people here, and everyone is very kind to me. I will let 
you know when we are coming home." 

Chris came and stood behind her as she was writing 
and caught sight of the first sentence. 

" Is that true? " he asked. He pointed to the words: 
" I am ever so happy." 

Marie laughed, but she was glad that he could not see 
her face. 

" Of course, it's true," she said. " I have never had 
such a good time in my life." 

A more observant man would have heard the flatness 
of her voice, but Chris only heard what he wanted to 
hear, and it gave him a sense of relief. If she was happy, 
that was aU right. He thought things had arranged 
themselves admirably. Marriage was not going to be 
the tie he had dreaded, after all. 

" Mrs. Heriot wants me to play a round of golf with 

56 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 57 



her this afternoon/' he said after a moment. " Do you 
mind?" 

" Of course not Please go. I shall be all right ; I 
am going to take my book down on the sands/' 

" Very well — don't overtire yourself." He laid his 
hand on her shoulder for a moment and then walked 
away. 

Marie sat staring at the finished letter before her. 
Would Aunt Madge be as blind as Chris, she wondered. 
She thrust it into an envelope and took it to the post. 

The weather was still holding fine. The days were 
hot and sunny and the nights moonlit. 

Last night at dinner she had asked Chris to take her 
for a walk. It was the first time she had asked znytbing 
of him since their marriage, but she had peeped at the 
moonlit sands and sea from her window as she was dress- 
ing for dinner and a sudden longing to walk through 
its silvery radiance with Chris had seized upon her. 

"Come out with you? Why, of course!" Chris said 
in quick response. " I promised to play Feathers a him- 
dred up at half-past eight, but that won't take long, 
and we can go afterwards." 

But it had taken over an hour, and afterwards another 
man who had watched the game had challenged Chris 
to another, and quite unintentionally Chris had forgotten 
all about his promise to Marie, and she had crept off 
to bed at ten o'clock without seeing him again. 

" I shall get used to it, of course I shall," she told her- 
self as she lay awake with the moonlight pouring through 
the open window. " Other women with husbands like 
Chris get used to it, and so shall L" 

She never shed tears about him; all her tears seemed 
to have been dried up. Her only longing was that he 
should be happy, and that she should never bore him or 
prove a tie to his freedom. 

She loved him with complete imselfishness — ^with com- 
plete foolishness, too, perhaps an unkind critic might have 

said. 

His was a nature so easily spoilt. If anybody offered 
him his own way he took it without demur. He liked 



58 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

things to go smoothly. If h^ was having a good time 
himself he took it for granted that everybody else was, 
too. 

He went off to his golf quite happily. He told Mrs. 
Heriot that Marie had taken a book down to the sands. 

"Alone?" Mrs. Heriot laughed. "How queer! 
Doesn't she find it dull ? " 

" She loves reading — she'll be quite happy." 

And Chris xcally believed what he was saying. 

He did not care a jot for Mrs. Heriot, but she played 
golf magnificently, and she was never tired. She could 
be out on the links all day and dance all night, and still 
look as fresh as paint — ^perhaps because she owed most 
of Her freshness to paint and powder. 

As she and Chris were leaving the hotel they encoun- 
tered Feathers. 

Feathers stopped dead in front of his friend, blocking 
the way. 

" Where are you going? " he asked uncompromisingly. 

"Where are we going?" Chris echoed with sarcasm. 
"Where do you think we are going? Hunting?" 

Mrs. Heriot laughed immoderately. She did not like 
Feathers, and she knew that he did not like her or ap- 
prove of her friendship with Chris, and it pleased her 
to read the annoyance in his ugly face. 

" We're going golfing, Mr. Dakers," she said. " Don't 
you recognize the clubs? I thought you were a golfer." 

" He hates me, you know," she explained to Qiris as 
they went on down the road. 

" He doesn't like any women," Chris said easily. 

" You really think so ? " she asked, raising her brows. 

" I am sure of it." He seemed struck by her silence, 
and turned his head sharply. " What do you mean?" 

" Only that I thought he seemed rather friendly with 
your little wife," she explained. 

"Oh, with Marie!" Chris laughed. "Yes, I'm glad 
to say he is. They get on very well together. He saved 
her life, you know." 

" Of course ! How stupid of me ! " She pretended 
that she had forgotten, and Chris frowned. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 59 

" Why on earth can't the woman be natural ? " he was 
thinking impatiently. He had quite missed her venomous 
little shaft with regard to his wife and Feathers. His 
was a most unsuspicious nature, and he cared too little 
for Marie to feel the slightest jealousy. 

He had laughed at Atkins' devotion to her. Atkins 
was a young idiot, but he had been pleased that she and 
Feathers had taken such a liking to one another. It 
argued well for a future in which Chris could see himself 
wanting to knock about town with Feathers as he had 
done before he was married. 

They played a round of golf, and Mrs. Heriot beat him. 

"W^at a triumph!" she said mockingly, when they 
sat down to rest on a grassy slope. " You're not plasdng 
well to-day, Chris." 

She had always called him by his Christian name. She 
was one of those women who call all men by their Chris- 
tian names without first being invited to do so. 

She was a widow with a large income, and a spiteful 
nature. She did not actually wish to re-marry, because 
if she did so she would lose the money left her by her 
husband, but all the same, she did not like to see her 
men friends monopolized and married by other women. 

She was thinking of her husband now, as she sat, chin 
on hand, staring down at Chris, sprawled beside her on 
the grass. 

Duncan Heriot had died in India while his wife was 
in England, and he had died of too much drink and an 
enlarged liver. As she looked at Chris, with his hand- 
some face and long, lithe figure, she was mentally con- 
trasting him with 3ie short, stubby man whom she had 
married solely for his money. 

She liked Chris for the same reason that he liked her. 
They had many fastes in common and seldom bored one 
anoUier. 

She was a year or two older than he, but she was still 
a young woman, and had it not been for the money 
question she would have done her best to marry him; but 
die knew that Chris had no money, and life without 
money was to Mrs. Heriot very much as a motor-car 



60 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

would be without its engine. So she had launched the 
craft of Plato between them, and comforted herself with 
the thought that he was not a marrjring man. 

It had been a real shock to her to hear of his wedding. 
She had been very anxious to meet his wife and find out 
for herself why he had so suddenly changed his mind. 

Her quick eyes had already discovered that it had not 
been for love ! She had made a life study of the oppo- 
site sex, and she knew without any telling that there 
was another reason for which she must seek. 

" You know," she said, abruptly, " I was ever so sur- 
prised to hear that you were married? " 

"Were you?" Christ tilted his hat further over his 
eyes. " Most people were, I think. Poor old Feathers 
was absolutely disgusted." 

" It was very sudden, wasn't it ? " she pursued. " Quite 
romantic, from all accounts." 

"Oh, I don't know. I've known her all my life — 
we were brought up together." 

" Really ! " She opened her eyes wide. " Cousins or 
something?" she hazarded. 

"No. Marie's father adopted nie." 

Chris rose to his feet and yawned. He knew that he 
was being pumped. 

Shall we play another round?" he asked. 
Of course." She was a little chagrined. She had 
imagined that their friendship was on too secure a basis 
to permit of such a decided snubbing. She played badly, 
as she always did when she was annoyed, and Chris won 
easily. 

" You threw that away deliberately," he challenged her. 

She laughed. " Did I ? Perhaps I did. You annoyed 



u 



me." 






In what way?" 

I thought we were friends, and when I ventured to 
be interested in your marriage you snubbed me abomin- 
ably." 

Her eyes were plaintive as they met his, and, manlike, 
Chris felt slightly flattered. 
Mrs. Heriot was a much-sought-after woman^ and he 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 61 

knew that she had always shown a distinct preference 
for his society. 

" I did not think you would be interested/' he said 
lamely. " And there is nothing to tell if you are looking 
for a romance." 

" That is what you say/' she declared. " But that is 
so like a man — never will admit it when he cares for a 
woman." 

Chris colored a little. He could not imagine what it 
was she wanted him to say. 

" You've always been such a confirmed bachelor/' she 
went on. '' I am beginning to think that your wife must 
be a very wonderful woman to have so completely meta- 
morphosed you." 

Chris frowned. He resented this cross-examination^ 
even while he was half inclined to think it unreasonable 
of him to do so. After all, he had known Mrs. Heriot 
some considerable time, and, as she said, they had always 
been good friends. 

I can tell you one thing," he said half seriously. 

And that is, that my wife is the only woman in the 
world for whom I would have given up my bachelor 
freedom! There, will that satisfy you?" 

Mrs. Heriot smiled sweetly. She always smiled 
sweetly when she was feeling particularly vixenish. 

" How sweet of you ! How very sweet ! " she mur- 
mured. " Of course, I have always said what a particu- 
larly charming girl she is — so unspoilt, so unsophisti- 
cated ! I suppose it is just another case of like attracting 
unlike." 

" I suppose it is," said Chris bluntly. He wished to 
goodness she would talk about something else. He was 
shrewd enough to detect the sting beneath her sugary 
words, and all his pride, if nothing more, rose in defense 
of Marie. He thought of her with a little glow of affec- 
tionate warmth. 

" She's the most unselfish child I've ever met/' he said 
impulsively. 

She was still a child to him. It was odd that he still 
could not dissociate her in his mind from the little girl 
with the pigtail and wistful eyes who had waited on him 






62 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

hand and foot all his life. Perhaps if he could have 
realized that Marie was a woman, at least in heart and 
thoughts, there might have been a better understanding 
between them; but as it was — ^well, everything was aU 
right, and Marie had written to Aunt Madge that she 
was " ever so happy." 

It was just as they reached the hotel again that Mrs. 
Heriot said with a sentimental sigh: " Perfect, perfect 
weather, isn't it ? Glorious days, and — oh, did you notice 
the moon last night ? " 

C3iris stood quite still. With a shock of guilt he re- 
membered Marie's little request to him and his own for- 
getfulness. The angry blood rushed to his face. He 
hated to feel that perhaps he had disappointed her. 

He left Mrs. Heriot in the lounge and went straight 
up to his wife's room. She was not there, but a book 
which he knew she had been reading was lying open on 
her dressing-table and a little pair of white shoes stood 
neatly together on the rug. 

Chris rubbed the back of his head with a curiously 
boyish look of embarrassment. It seemed odd to think 
that he and little Marie Celeste were really husband and 
wife! He cast a furtive look at himself in her mirror. 
He did not look much like a married man, he thought, 
and laughed as he took up the book which Marie had 
been reading. It was a book of poems, and Chris made 
a little grimace. He had never read a poem in his life, 
but his eyes fell now on some of the lines which had 
been faintly underscored with a pencil: 

"What shall I be at fifty, 

Should nature keep me alive — 
If I find the world so bitter 
When I am but twenty-five?" 

He read the words through twice with a vague sense 
of discomfort. 

Had Marie underlined them — and if so, why? They 
did not convey a tremendous deal to Chris, though he 
had a faintly uncomfortable feeling that they might to 
a woman. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 63 

Miirie was not twenty-five either, she was only nine- 
teen ! And anyway it was absurd to imagine that she was 
finding the world bitter when she had just written home 
to Aunt Madge that she was quite happy. 

He had still got the book in his hand when the door 
opened and Marie came in. She caught her breath when 
she saw her husband. 

" You, Chris ! " 

"Yes, I thought ^ou were in." He turned round, 
holding out the book. " Are you reading this ? " 

" Yes." She tried to take it from him, but he avoided 
her. " Did v^u underline that verse? " 

He saw the color flicker into her face, but she laughed 
as she bent over the book and read the words he indi- 
cated. 

"Did I? Of course not. It's a pretty poem. It's 
Tennyson's * Maud,' you know." Chris knew nothing 
about Tennyson's "Maud," but he was relieved to hear 
the natural way in which his wife spoke. He shut the 
book and threw it down carelessly. 

" I came to say that I'm sorry about last night — ^about 
forgetting to take you out, I mean. I clean forgot all 
about it. We'll go to-night, shall we?" There was the 
smallest hesitation before she answered. She was taking 
off her hat at the wardrobe so he could not see her face. 

" Mr. Dakers has two tickets for a concert," she said 
at last, "I almost promised him I would go." She 
waited. " If you don't mind," she added. 

" Of course, I don't mind. Go by all means. I dare 
say you'll enjoy it. I shall be all right — I can have a 
game at billiards with someone. I suppose it's time to 
dress?" 

" Yes, I think so." 

" See you downstairs, then?" 

" Yes." 

Chris went off whistling. He was qliite happy again. 
Somebody else had marked that verse. He ought to 
have known Marie Celeste would not be so foolish — and 
they were stupid lines anyway. He could not imagine 
why anybody ever wanted to read poetry. 



i 



CHAPTER VII 

''When the links of love are parte4» 
Strength is gone • . •" 

DIRECTLY Chris had gone Marie opened her door, 
which he had shut after him, and ran down- 
stairs. 

The lounge was almost deserted. Most of the visitors 
were dressing for dinner, but Feathers was lounging 
against the open swing door which led into the garden. 

His hands were deep thrust into his pockets and he 
was looking out over the sea with moody eyes. 

Marie ran up to him breathlessly. " Mr. Dakers- " 

He turned at once. "Yes." He noticed the flushed 
agitation of her face. "Is anything the matter?" he 
asked in swift concern. 

"Yes! I mean no! Oh, it's nothing much, at any 
rate, but — ^but I told Chris you were going to take me 
to a concert to-nip^ht, that you had got two tickets . . ." 
She broke oflF agitatedly, only to rush on again. " Of 
course, I know you're not ! I only just said it, but — ^but 
if he asks you — oh, you wouldn't mind not telling him, 
would you ? " 

Feathers looked utterly mystified, but she was too much 
in earnest for him to smile, so he said quietly : 

" There is rather a good show on the pier, so I'm told, 
ril get some tickets and we'll go." 

She flushed all over her face and her lips quivered. 

" I know it's horrid of me, and I can't explain ; there 
isn't any need for you to take me at all, really, but . . . 

but I knew Chris wanted to play billiards " She 

broke off, she had said more than she intended. 

64 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 65 

Feathers laughed. "Chris is a goth! I like music, 
and I'm sure you do, so we'll snap our fingers at him 
and go to the concert." 

" You don't really want to ! You wouldn't have 
thought of it, if I hadn't said anything," she stammered. 

" I've often thought of it," he maintained quietly. " If 
the truth must be told, I'm very fond of music, so it 
will be a kindness if you will let me pretend that I'm only 
going to please you." 

There was a little silence, then Marie slipped her hand 
into his with a long sigh of relief. 

" Oh, you are a dear," she said, and fled away before 
he could answer. 

She went up to her own room and hurried with her 
dressing. She did not want to go to the concert in the 
very least. It had cost her a great deal to refuse Chris' 
offer of that moonlit walk, but in her heart she knew 
that he had only suggested it as reparation for his for- 
getfulness of last night, and her pride wouI3 not allow 
her to accept. 

If he had wished to go with her he would not have 
forgotten. She knew C5iris well enough to know that 
he never forgot a thing that he wished to remember, 
and there was a little choking lump of misery in her 
throat as she hurriedly changed her frock. 

Chris was very punctilious about dressing for dinner. 
It was one of his pet snobberies, so Feathers declared, 
for Feathers himself had a fine disregard of appearances 
and of what people thought. 

But to-night even he struggled into a dinner jacket, and 
half-strangled himself in a high collar in honor of Marie. 
At dinner Chris chaffed him mercilessly across the space 
that divided their tables. 

" You'll be putting brilliantine on your hair next," he 
said. "Not that it would be mudi use!" he added 
dryly. 

" I think his hair looks very nice," said Marie Celeste. 
She did not think so, but she was so grateful to him for 
haying rushed into the breach for her to-night that she 
looked upon him through rose-tinted glasses. 



I 



66 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Feathers smiled grimly, meeting her eyes. 

" Mrs. Lawless, may you be forgiven ! " he said sol- 
emnly. " And may I also remind you that if you want 
to be in time for the show, you'll have to go without 
the water ice which I sec they promise us as the final 
tit-bit on the menu." 

" I hate water ices," Marie declared. " And I'm quite 
ready when you are." She looked at her husband. 

" Don't wait for me, my child," said Chris. " Run 
away and amuse yourself." 

Marie rose from the table quietly. 

"I'll just get my coat," she said to Feathers. She 
walked down the room between the crowded tables, the 
eyes of both men following her. 

She made a pathetic little figure, so Feathers thought, 
and was angry with himself for the thought. He did not 
want to think of her as unhappy. He could not imagine 
why he always read sadness in her face. 

He turned to Chris. " Why don't you come with us ? " 
he asked abruptly. 

Chris opened his eyes in fakit astonishment. 

"What! Be penned up in a stuffy concert hall all 
the evening?" he said. 

"My dear chap, it's no worse than the billiard 
room. Feathers answered irascibly. "You spend too 
much of your time there." 

Chris looked at him in utter amazement; then he 
laughed. 

" Is it a joke or what ? " he asked helplessly. 

Feathers pushed back his chair rather violently and 

rose. 
"Think it over," he said curtly, and walked out of 

the room. 

Chris did think it over. He went out on to the sea 
front, and stared at the sea, and wondered what on 
earth his friend had been driving at. He did not at all 
like the way in which Feathers had looked at him or the 
tone of voice in which he had spoken. As a rule, every- 
one looked upon Chris with approval. He threw his half- 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 67 

smoked cigarette over the sea wall on to the sand» and 
with morose eyes, watched it consume away. 

He was not going to be lectured by Feathers, old 
friends as they were ! He began to feel himself distinctly 
ill-used. 

Now he came to think of it it was pretty cool of him 
to take Marie Celeste off to a concert and leave him to 
shift for himself. He was not at all sure that he was 
being fairly treated. 

*' A penny for your thoughts/' said Mrs. Heriot beside 
him, and he started from his reverie and laughed. 

" Nothing. I was just wondering about something, 
that's all." 

He was really rather glad to see her. It was dusk out 
there on the sea front, and Mrs. Heriot always looked 
her best in a half-light, as do most women who take the 
tint of their hair and complexion out of a box. 

She was dressed In black, too. It suited her admirably, 
and there was a fluffy white fur round her throat and 
shoulders which rather appealed to Chris. 

Feathers had knocked a comer off his complacency, 
and he was just in a mood to accept the soothing flattery 
which Mrs. Heriot knew to a nicety how to administer. 

" I've never seen you look so cross before," she chal- 
langed him. "What is the matter and where is Mrs. 
Lawless ? " 

" She's gone to a concert." 

" Oh, yes, with Mr. Dakers ! I saw them going along 
the road together Just now." She paused. " You don't 
care for music, I suppose ? " 

" Not particularly." 

"Neither do I. I don't think people who are very 
keen on games are ever fond of music and artistic things 
like that, do you?" 

" Perhaps not," he agreed. 

She drew the feathery wrap closer round her throat. 

" Isn't it a heavenly night? What shall we do? " 

Chris laughed rather grimly. " I've nothing to do. 
I'm quite at your service." 

"Really?" Her eyes were bright it^ the half-light. 



'i'^ 






'(^» 



J I'l^i'^^^r 



4< 



68 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" Well, then, shall we take a boat and row out to meet 
the moon ? " 

" Meet the moon ! " Chris echoed blankly. 

She laughed. " Yes, isn't that what romantic people 
do? I know I'm not a romantic person, but I'm going 
to pretend to be, just for one night " 

She laid her hand on his arm. " Do ! It will be such 
fun." 

Her excitement was rather infectious, and after the 
smallest hesitation Chris yielded. 

Oh, all right. ' Can we get a boat ? " 
Of course we can." She kept her hand through his 
arm as they went down the sands to look for an old 
boatman from whom Mrs. Heriot declared she had often 
hired boats before. 

" Do ye want me to come along with yer? " he asked, 
as he dragged a skiff down to the water's edge. 

Mrs. Heriot laughed and looked at Chris. 

" Do we want Charon to row us on the Stjrx ? " she 
asked. 

Chris made a wry little face. 

" I think we might be able to manage without his help," 
he said. 

He gave her his hahd and followed her into the skiff. 

It was a perfect night. There was hardly a ripple pn 
the' water, and the moon was rising in a gleam half- 
circle above the horizon. 

Mrs. Heriot dabbled her hand in the cool water, and 
her diamond rings glittered like sparks of fire. 

" Now, isn't this better than that horrid, stuffy old 
billiard room?" she asked presently. 

Chris frowned, and his friend's words, which he had 
forgotten for the moment, came back with worr3ring in- 
sistence. 

" It's no worse than the billiard room. . . . You spend 
too much of your time there. . . ." 

What the deuce had Feathers meant? 

" Did you hear what I said ? " Mrs. Heriot demanded, 
and he roused himself with an effort. 

" I heard— yes ! " 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 69 



f9 

99 



" And don't you agree ? 

Chris temporized. " Well, there's more air out here, 
he said. 

She laughed lightly. " How you do hate to agree with 
anyone," she said. She leaned back and looked up at 
the sky. 

"This reminds me of the nights in India," she said 
suddenly. 

Chris made no comment, and she went on. 

" It seems as if my life out there must all have been in 
another world." ^ 

" Time passes so quickly, doesn't it ? " said Chris ab- 
sently. 

He had never seen her In this mood before, and it 
rather bored him. 

" I went out as soon as I was married," she went on, 
taking it for granted that he was interested. " I was 
— oh, so young — ^younger than Mrs. Lawless, I should 
think ! " She laughed rather bitterly. " I thought I was 
going to be ' happy ever after,' as the story books have 
it, when I got married." She shrugged her shoulder?. 
" That's what comes of marrying for money." 
You are very candid," Chris said amusedly. 
I am ; I think it always pays, don't you ? " . 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

" I haven't thought about it." 

" I have ! And I know that people don't like me be- 
cause I always say what I think." 

"Don't theyl" He drew in the sculls a little and, 
resting on them, fumbled for his cigarette case. 

There was a little smile on his face. Mrs. Heriot was 
amusing him now, though unconsciously. 

She stretched out a white hand. "Give me a cig- 
arette." Chris handed her his case, but she waved it 
away. " Don't be so ungallant ! Light it for nie." 

He did as she asked. 

" Does your wife smoke ? " she asked abruptly. 

" No." He bent to the sculls again. " I'm afraid she's 
not very modem." 

She caught up the word quickly. " Afraid ! " 



u 
it 



70 A BACHELOR^ HUSBAND 

Chris frowned. " I should have said * glad/ perhaps." 
He corrected himself rather shortly. 

Mrs. Heriot looked at him in silence for a moment, 
then she said, energetically: "Don't let marriage turn 
you into a bore, Chris ! " 

" A bore ! " He was so amazed that he dropped his 
cigarette. " Yes." She smiled teasingly. " It does that 
with most men, you know." 

" I think I can promise you it will not do that with 
me," he said rather warmly. "I have always loathed 
the idea of ordinary married life, staying at home night 
after night, tied to a woman's apron strings, dropping 
all one's pals . . ." He broke off, coloring warmly. He 
had said a great deal more than he had intended, and 
he knew that she had purposely led him on to do so. 
" Don't you think we had better be getting back ? " he 
asked rather curtly. 

" What, already ? " she laughed, and, bending forward, 
looked at a small jewelled watch on her wrist. " Why, 
it's not nine I " She turned and looked out over the 
smooth sea. "Let's row out to that boat," she said 
suddenly. She indicated a small anchored fishing smack 
with furled sails that looked like a fairy ship in the 
path of the moonlight. 

" We can get on board if there is nobody there. Do f 
It will be such fun ! " 

Chris had the uncomfortable feeling that she expected 
him to refuse, and because he made it a rule never to do 
what he knew was expected of him he agreed. He pulled 
the little skiff about and made for the anchored boat. 

There was a light on her mast and a lantern tied to 
her bow, but apparently she was deserted. 

Mirs. Heriot made a cup of her hands and called a 
long " Coo-ee." /«^ - 

" There's nobody on board," she said. " Go closer to 
her, Chris." 

When they were near enough she stretched out her 
hand and caught at a rope hanging loosely at the side 
of the ship. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 71 



" It's a ladder ! " she said excitedly. " Oh, we must 
go on board. If s so romantic I " 

" It's a fishing smack — ^it will be horribly dirty prob- 
ably," Chris objected. 

She was standing up, holding to its side. 

'* Of course it won't be." She looked around at him. 
" I believe you don't want to come," she said laughing. 

Chris drew in the sculls without another word and 
stood up. 

" If you're so bent on trespassing," he said, and held 
out his hand. 

They scrambled on board together and looked round. 
The ship was quite deserted and rocking gently on the 
smooth water. Mrs. Heriot clapped her hands like a 
delighted child. She was quite a good actress when she 
was in the mood and given the right environment. 

" Isn't this lovely ? It reminds me of the days when 
we used to hide in ruined castles when we were chil- 
dren." 

She spoke as if ruined castles were to be met with in 
every street of every suburban town. 

** There's not much of a ruined castle about this," said 
Chris. He was not at all amused. He thought the whole 
adventure silly, which merely showed that he was not 
with the right woman and not interested in the woman 
he was with. 

The moon was high in the sky, and the twinkling lights 
of the town looked a long way off, though very faintly 
in the distance they could hear the sound of the band 
playing on the pier. 

Chris listened apathetically, then suddenly he spoke. 

"It must be late. They're playing *God Save the 
King.' " 

He looked at his watch — it was ||jilf-past ten. 

"It's time we went back," he said. He wondered 
uncomfortably what Feathers would say if he could see 
him now. 

He went back to the side of the fishing smack where 
he had Jeft the skiff, then he stifled an oath, for the 



72 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

painter he had fastened loosely to the rope-ladder had 
come tintied and the skiff had drifted away. 

Mrs. Heriot uttered a shrill scream when she saw 
what had happened. She was really not in the least 
frightened; she loved sensation and what she was pleased 
to call " thrills " ; and it was rather exciting to find her- 
self in such a predicament with a man as good-looking 
and difficult as Christopher Lawless. 

"Whatever shall we do?" she demanded in horror, 
and then, with a quick glance at his face : *' Oh, you 
don't think that I let the boat go on purpose?" 

She had not done so, but probably would have done 
had it occurred to her. Chris answered vehemently that 
such an idea had never entered his head, which was the 
truth. He was far too indifferent and unsuspecting to 
credit her with such an action. 

" But what on earth are we to do ? " she asked again, 
and Chris laughed rather mirthlessly. 

" I must swim out and bring it back, of course," 

He took off his coat as he spoke and Mrs. Heriot 
screamed afresh. 

"You might be drowned! The water looks awful 
in the moonlight! What will become of me here alone 
if anything happens to you?" 

" Nothing will happen to me or you," said Chris im- 
patiently, " and we can't stay here all night, can we ? " 

He shook off her detaining hand and dambered up the 
ship's side. 

Mrs. Heriot hid her face. 

"I shall go mad if anything happens to you," she 
said hysterically. 

Chris dived without answering. 

He came up breathless and spluttering. The water 
was very cold, and he was hampered by his clothes, but 
he got hold of the skiff and dragged it back to the ship's 
side, clambering up again by the rope ladder. 

"You'll take your death of cold," said Mrs. Heriot 
tragically, but she did not attempt to touch him again. In 
his drendhed condition he did not look very romantic. 



u 
ii 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 73 

with his collar as limp as muslin and his hair plastered 
down on his forehead. 

It was so brave of you," she murmured. 
It was folly ever to have come," Chris said. He 
steadied the skiff while she climbed back into it, then 
he followed and pushed off. 

"What in the world will people say?" Mrs. Heriot 
asked hysterically. 

Chris looked at her; his tee'th were chattering a little. 

"What can they say? It was an accident." 

" I know, but they won't believe it People are so 
Uncharitable." 

His face darkened. 

" I don't understand you." 

She looked a little ashamed. 

"It is so late, and for you and I — ^to be out here 
alone . . ." 

Chris pulled harder at the sculls; he knew there was 
something in what she said, but he answered doggedly: 

" They must believe what they choose, that's all." 

She covered her face with her hands. 

" I can't face it," she whispered. " I've always hated 
scandal. And ... oh, what will your wife think, Chris ? " 

Chris bit his lip ; he had forgotten Marie. 

"She will believe what I tell her," he answered at 
last quietly. " And if you prefer it I can land you further 
down the beach away from the hotel, so that nobody 
will know we were together. I dare say I can get in 
and change my things without being seen." 

She broke out into gushing thanks. 

" I never thought of that ! Of course, it will be all 
right I Nobody saw us come out together. I can go 
in through the garden door." 

" Very well." He did not speak again until they were 
dose in shore. Then he said : " I can beach her here 
— ^you will not mind going back to the hotel alone?" 

" Oh, no — ^but, Chris . . . you can't, you simply mustn't 
tell your wife." 

He looked up at her with cold eyes. 

" I don't understand you," 



i 



74 A BAOJELOR HUSBAND 

" I know you don't, because you're so nice, so straight. 
But can't you see — on your hone}rmoon ! It will look so 
bad, and I'm sure she will be jealous. People with dark 
eyes like hers are always dreadfully jealous." Her eyes 
fell before his steady gaze. " She will hate me," she 
whispered. "And I don't deserve it — ^you know that." 

There was a little silence, then 

" Very well," said Chris shortly. " I will not tell her." 
He waited till she was safely up the beach, then he 
pulled out to sea again, and came ashore lower down. 
The owner of the boat was not to be seen, and Chris tied 
it up securely and ran fbr the hotel. If only it had been 
a dark night, he thought as he ran. The cursed moon 
made everything so light; but he got into the garden 
without being seen, by keeping well in the shadow of 
trees and bushes, and had almost reached the door when 
he ran right into Feathers. 

Chris swore under his breath. He would have gone 
on without speaking, but Feathers caught his arm. 

" Hullo ! " And tiien : " Good Lord, Chris, you're 
soaking wet. Not another accident, surely? Who have 
you pulled out — this time?" 

" Myself. I went out in a skiff and the damned thing 
upset." 

He told the lie badly and, conscious of the fact, he 
went on hurriedly : " Here, I want to change. I'm as 
cold as blazes. You needn't say anything to Marie — it 
will only upset her." 

Feathers stood aside silently and Chris went Up to his 
room. 

He had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. He had 
a hot bath before he got into dry clothes. 

Moonlight might be romantic, and all the rest of it, 
he told himself, but a moonlight bath was not exactly 
pleasant. 

He cursed Mrs. Heriot under his breath and his own 
folly; he could not imagine what had possessed him to 
go out with her; he congratulated himself for having 
bluffed Feathers, for he knew Feathers hated Mrs. 
Heriot. 



1 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 75 

He rang for a hot whisky and went to Marie's room. 
He could hear her moving about inside, and tapped at 
the door. 

"Come in!" 

He turned the handle. He. wondered if he could ex- 
plain things to her as effectually as he had done to 
Feathers; somehow he rather doubted it — Marie had a 
way of looking into his very soul. 

She still wore the frock she had worn at dinner that 
night, and was sitting at the window looking out at the 
moonlight. 

Chris went forward. 

"Didyou think I'd got lost?'' he asked lightly. He 
stood beside her, leaning his shoulder against the win- 
dow-frame. 

" Did you play billiards, after all ? ** Marie asked. She 
did not answer his question. 

She was sitting with her back to the light, or he nught 
have seen the tear-stains on her face. 

" No." He looked away from her and up at the moon 
with vindictive eyes. " I took a skiff out and got upset" 
He laughed awkwardly. 

" Got upset ! " Her voice was full of alarm. " Oh, 
Chris, you might have been drowned I " 

"When I was bom to be hanged?" he queried. 
" Never, my child; but it was a cold bath I can tell you. 
I had to change and make myself presentable before I 
came to you. Well— how did you enjoy the concert?" 

"Very much." She told him a little about it; she 
had not enjoyed it a bit; her thoughts had been with 
him all the time, but she would have died rather than let 
him guess it. 

His handsome eyes searched her face ; she looked woti- 
derfidly sweet and dainty in the moonlight, and wifli 
sudden impulse he stooped and took her hand. 

" It's a queer sort of honeymoon, Marie Celeste," he 
said rather hoarsely. 

He felt the little hand tremble in his and then suddenly 
lie very still, but she did not speak, and he went on with 



I 



76 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

an effort to get away from the something tragic of which 
he was vaguely conscious, 

" Are you sorry yet that you married me ? *' 

She shook her head, "Of course not." 

He let her hand go, chilled by her words, 

" There are heaps of other fellows in the world — better 
than I, who would have made you happier," he said. 

She laughed at that; a little broken laugh of amuse- 
ment. 

" There is nobody else I would have married," she said 
faintly. 

" You say that now, but you're such a kid ! In a year 
or so you'll think very differently." 

" Perhaps you will, too," she told him with trembling 
lips. 

Chris laughed scornfully. 

" I ! I've never been a woman's man, you know that.'' 

She did know it, and was glad to know it. It was 
the one small ray of hope in her darkness that if he did 
not love her at least he had never loved anybody else. 

She gave a long sigh of weariness. ^ 

" You're tired," said Chris, quickly. "FU go. Don't 
sit by the window any more. It's getting cold, and 
you've got to be careful, you know." 

" Very well," she said, as she rose obediently, and he 
drew the window down. They looked at one another 
silently, then Chris said: 

Grood-night, Marie Celeste." 

Good-night." Her voice was almost inaudible, and, 
moved by some impulse he could not explain, Chris laid 
his hands on her shoulders. 

"Kiss me — will you?" 

She turned her face away sharply. 

" I'd— I'd rather not." 

" Very well. GrOod-night." 

He went out of the room without another word, and 
Marie stood where he had left her, staring helplessly at 
the closed door. 

He had asked her to kiss him and she had refused — 






A BACHELOR HUSBAND 77 

refused, though her whole heart and soul had longed to 
say " yes/' 

Had she been wrong? She did not know. She had 
tried so hard all along to do only the best thing for his 
happiness, and yet she had been miserably conscious 
of the hurt in his face as she turned her own away. 

Should she go after him and ask him to come back? 
She longed, yet feared to go. Perhaps he would only 
kiss her in the old careless way as a brother might have 
done, and it was not that sort of kiss she wanted. 

Half a loaf is better than no bread ! The old proverb 
floated mockingly before her. But half a loaf was no 
good to her, starving for love as she was ; better die, she 
thought passionately, than have an)rthing less than all. 

Twice she went to the door and turned the handle, but 
each time she came back again to pace the room rest- 
lessly. 

He had not really wanted to kiss her, or he would not 
have asked. He would have taken it without waiting for 
so poor a thing as her permission. Her cheeks burned 
as she thought of this humiliating fortnight which people 
were calling her "honeymoon." 

She had hardly seen Chris — ^it was Feathers who had 
been her chief companion— good, kind Feathers, with his 
ugly face and his heart of gold. Did he know, she won- 
dered, what sort of a marriage hers was ? If so, he had 
never let her guess by word or look that he knew, and 
once more she fell back on her old desperate hope. 

" I shall get used to it — I must get used to it." 

She had been married a fortnight now — only fourteen 
days — ^but they seemed like years. The pain had not 
lessened, and Uie weary, aching disappointment was still 
^s keen. 

And sudden revolt rose in her mind. She had as much 
right to her happiness as anyone else. After all, what 
was the use of straining after the unattainable? Why 
not take what the gods gave and be thankful ? 

She opened the door again and looked out on to the 
landing; she knew that Chris* room was the one next 



\ 



78 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

to hers, with a communicating door which she had locked 
on her side. 

The outer door was not quite closed now, and she 
could see a thin streak of light through the opening. 

She drew the door of her room to behind her and 
stood there in the subdued light of the passage, her heart 
beating fast, her lips quivering nervously. 

She had put out her hand tremblingly to knock at his 
door when suddenly she heard his voice from within, 
speaking angrily: 

"Look here. I'm not going to be lectured by you 
and that's final ! The Lord only knows why you've sud- 
denly climbed into the pulpit like this. If you say you 
saw me with Mrs. Heriot it's no use denying it, but it's 
nothing to do with you, and I'll thank you to mind your 
own confounded business. It was an accident that the 
skiff drifted away, I tell you ! And it's a darned lucl^ 
thing I could swim, or we should have been left on that 
infernal boat all night! And then you would have had 
something to talk about, but as it is . . ." he broke off, 
and there followed the angry slamming of a drawer. 

Then Feathers spoke, quite quietly, and without any 
anger. 

"It's no use losing your temper, Chris. It was the 
merest chance that I happened to see you. As you say, 
it's no business of mine, but as Mrs. Heriot is the class 
of woman she is, I say that you ought to tell your wife 
the truth. You can't trust Mrs. Heriot — she'll make the 
devil's own mischief one of these days." 

Chris said "Rot!" with violence. "What do you 
mean, ' the class of woman Mrs. Heriot is ' ? — she's a 
friend of mine." 

He did not care in the least what Feathers said of Mrs. 
Heriot, but the sheer " cussedness " of his nature drove 
him to defend her; if Feathers had adopted the other 
attitude Chris would have veered round instantly. 

But for once Feathers forgot to be tactful. He was 
burning with anger against his friend, more for Marie's 
sake than for any other reason ; he could not understand 
the pircumstances of this marriage at all, though little by 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 79 

little he was beginning to see that there was notEing of 
real affection about it. 

He said again vehemently: "It's your duty to tell 
Mrs. Lawless the truth ! Supposing somebody else saw 
you besides myself? A nice garbled version of it she 
might hear ! It could be worked up properly, I can tell 
you — ^moonlight night, and you two out there on an 
empty yacht, or smack, or whatever it was." 

He laughed cynically. " What the devil you want to 
knock about with that woman for, beats me ! She's made 
up, she's bad form, she's everything objectionable." 

Chris laughed defiantly. He was furious at being 
hauled over the coals in such a manner, more especially 
as Feathers had never made the slightest attempt to do 
such a thing before. 

" She amuses me, an)nvay," he said, violently. " She 
doesn't bore me to death, as the rest of her sex do, and 
you can put that in your pipe and smoke it." 

The rest of her sex. The words hammered them- 
selves into the numbed brain of poor little Marie Celeste 
as she stood there in the passage, not daring to move. 

The rest of her sex. That included her then — ^that 
must include her I Oh, how could he be so cruel I How 
could he, when she loved him with ev^ry beat of her 
heart? 

She crept back into her room, feeling as if her hus- 
band's harsh words had been actual whips, beating her 
and bruising her. 

He not only did not love her, but he preferred Mrs. 
Heriot ! He had been out there with her on the moon- 
lit sea, while she • . . Marie Celeste fell face downwards 
on the bed, crushing her face into the pillow so that her 
broken-hearted sobbing might not penetrate the locked 
door and reach her husband's ears. He hated tears so 
much ! Scenes always made him so angry. 



i 



CHAPTER VIII 

"The new is older than the old ^ 
The newest friend is oldest friend in this, 
That waiting him we longest grieved to miss 
One thing we sought" 

MARIE woke in the morning with a bad headache. 
She would have liked to stay in bed, but not 
for the world would she have allowed Mrs. 
Heriot the satisfaction of her absence. 

Since her accident she had always had breakfast in 
her room, but she dressed early this morning and went 
dovmstairs before the first gong had sounded. 

She had carefully bathed the tear stains from her eyes 
and powdered her face; she had put on her prettiest 
frock and taken great pains with her hair. Tender- 
hearted and loyal as she was, Marie was tremendously 
proud, and she made up her mind that, if the effort killed 
her, she would not allow Mrs. Heriot to imagine that 
the incident of last night had made any difference or hurt 
her in any way. 

She went in to breakfast before Chris arrived, and he 
looked at her in blank astonishment when he satmtered 
up to the table. 

" Down to breakfast! Couldn't you sleep, Marie? " 

The words were playful, but they hurt his wife inex- 
pressibly, for they showed that he had not been to her 
room, as he generally did, to see how she was. 

She answered hinr with a little smile. 

" Yes ; Fm tired of being an invalid. I've thrown the 
last bottle of medicine away." She forced herself to 
eat a good breakfast, though she was not in the least hun- 
gry, and smiled her sweetest at Mrs. Heriot, who came 
in very late. 

80 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 81 

Mrs. Heriot's eyes narrowed a little as she returned 
Marie's greeting, and a^ soon as the meal was ended she 
followed the girl into the lounge and sat down beside 
her. 

" Dear Mrs. Lawless, how nice to see you up early 
again ! I do hope it means that you are stronger ! " 

" I think I'm quite well," Marie answered. " And I 
think it's time I looked after my husband a little. Poor 
Chris ! I am afraid he has been very dull." 

She was not afraid of anything of the sort. She knew 
only too well that Chris had not missed her in the least, 
but it gave her a little throb of satisfaction to see the 
faint look of annoyance that crossed Mrs. Heriot's face, 
as she leaned back in her chair and twisted the long gold 
chain with its bunch of dangling charms which she wore 
round her neck. Was this chit of a girl going to attempt 
to cross swords with her ? 

Chris came into the lounge at the moment. 

" Well, what's the programme for to-day ? " he asked, 
cheerily. He was quite at his ease ; he believed that last 
night's foolishness had been swept into the rag bag of 
the past and forgotten; he did not know enough about 
women to suspect Mrs. Heriot of malice, or Marie of 
capability to deceive him. 

It was Mrs. Heriot who answered. 

"Personally, I'm too worn out to do anything but 
lounge about," she said. " And you . . . you look awfully 
tired yourself, Chris." 

Marie raised her eyes. 

"Well, he had rather a nasty adventure last night, 
didn't he ? " she said quietly. " What a fortunate thing 
for you both that he could swim, wasn't it, Mrs. Heriot? " 

She spoke quite simply and naturally and with just the 
right shade of concern in her voice, but her heart was 
racing at her own daring. 

Chris turned scarlet to the roots of his hair, and for a 
moment there was an embarrassed silence. 

Then Mrs. Heriot said with a little uncertain laugh: 
** So he told you ! How brave of him ! I advised him 



82 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

not to, you know. I thought after your own dreadful 
accident it would only unnerve you again." 

Marie laughed. 

"I thought it was a most exciting adventure/' she 
said. " But it would have been horrid if you had had to 
stay out there all night, wouldn't it ? " She rose with a 
little yawn, as if the subject no longer interested her, 
and walked over to the open doorway which led into the 
garden. 

Chris stood irresolute; he knew that Mrs. Heriot's 
eyes were upon him, and he was furious because his crim- 
son flush would not die down. Mrs. Heriot laughed 
softly. 

" So you told her then," she said. 

Chris turned on his heel without answering, and fol- 
lowed his wife into the garden; there were some chil- 
dren playing ball in the sunshine and Marie was stand- 
ing watching them with unseeing eyes. 

She knew she had scored, but she felt no triumph — 
only a dull sort of misery at having humiliated the man 
she loved. 

" Marie ! " She turned round, the mask of indiffer- 
ence falling once more upon her face. 

"Yes, what is it?" 

" Who told you about last night ? " 

She shook her head. " Nobody." 

But he persisted. " Did Feathers tell you ? " 

" Feathers ! " she echoed, with quiet scorn. " Do you 
think that I should discuss you with him?" 

*' Somebody must have told you," he said doggedly. 

Her brown eyes met his sorrowfully. 

" You ought to have told me," she said. 

The color rushed again to his handsome face. 

" I know. I was a fool. I don't know why I went out 
with her. I hate the woman. • . ." He really thought 
he did at the moment. "But you had gone off with 
Feathers, and it was rottenly dull alone." 

She interrupted very gently. 

" I thought you would prefer to be left alone ; you 
could have come had you chosen." 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 83 

" I know, but ... oh, dash it all, there isn't any ex- 
cuse for me, I know, and you behaved like a brick 
just now, Marie — ^letting her think that you didn't 
care." 

There was an eloquent silence; then Marie said: " I 
only let her think what was the truth! I don't care at 
all! You are quite free to do as you like. We agreed 
that, didn't we? But I think, for your own sake, it 
would be better to tell me next time anything like that 
happens. I hate Mrs. Heriot to think that you have a 
secret with her and from me — it looks bad, Chris." 

He gave an angry exclamation. 

" Secret ! It was no secret ! You exaggerate when 
you say that." 

" Do I ? Well, I'm sorry." She turned to move away, 
but he followed. 

" I hope you'll forgive me ? " he asked with humility 
new to him. 

Poor little Marie Celeste! The tears swam traitor- 
ously into her eyes, and she bit her lip. 

" There isn't anything to forgive," she said. " I think, 
perhaps, we have both rather exaggerated things." 

They walked along the sea front together, Chris silent 
and morose, with a little frown between his eyes. 

Only once before had Marie made him feel ashamed, 
and that was years and years ago when he had pushed 
her out of the loft, and she had taken the blame and 
declared that she had fallen through her own careless- 
ness. 

Chris hated to feel ashamed, and after a moment he 
broke out again violently. 

** I should have told you myself, only Mrs. Heriot did 
not wish it. She said that people in the hotel would 
talk, and that she could not face the scandal. So what 
could I do?" 

Marie looked at him in utter amazement. Was he 
as ignorant of women as all this? But she did not say 
what was in her mind — ^that she believed Mrs. Heriot 
would welcome notoriety of any sort. 

*We won't talk about it any more," she said, hope- 



84 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

lessly. " After all, you've got a perfect right to choose 
your own friends." 

" Mrs. Heriot is not a friend. I play golf with her 
and bridge — that is all. I never make friends of women." 

She (Ud not contradict him, and they walked on a 
little way without speaking; then Marie said sud- 
denly: 

" Chris, don't you think we could go home at the end 
of the week?" 

" Go home ! " he echoed sharply. " You mean — ^to 
Aunt Madge?" 

" Yes ; I think I'm rather tired of the sea." 

" We'll go to-morrow if you like; I shan't be sorry to 
leave the place myself." 

He would have gone that mornings in order to escape 
meeting Mrs. Heriot again. He was more angry with 
himself than he was with her, for it was slowly dawning 
upon him that he had allowed himself to be made a fool 
of, and the feeling was unpleasant. 

" I think it will do if we go at the end of the week," 
Marie said quietly. " I will write to Aunt Madge, so 
that she will be ready for us." 

Chris frowned. 

" We can't live with Aunt Madge indefinitely," he said 
at last. " We shall have to get a place of our own some- 
where." 

" I know, but for the present she would like to have 
us." There was a note of anxiety in Marie's voice. Just 
now there was nothing she dreaded more than the thought 
of living somewhere alone with Chris. 

Once it had seemed the height of bliss. 

" There'll be plenty of money, fortunately," Chris went 
on. " We ought to manage to have quite a good time 
between us, don't you think?" 

" Yes, I think so." 

" You don't sotmd very enthusiastic," he complained. 
" I suppose you're still thinking about that rotten busi- 
ness last night." 

She did not deny it. 

" Supposing it had been me," she said, after a moment 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 85 

" Supposing I had gone out there with — with Mr. Dakers, 
for instance; and the same thing had happened. What 
would you have thought?" 

C3iris laughed unaffectedly. 

" With old Feathers ! Good Lord, you'd have been 
safe enough with him ! " 

Her face quivered. Would there never be anything 
she could do or say that would move him in the slightest ? 

" Perhaps that's how I felt about you and Mrs. Heriot," 
she said sharply. 

Chris laughed again. 

"Well, I never thought you'd be jealous of her, cer- 
tainly," he said. 

She turned on him with flashing eyes. 

" I'm not jealous of her ! How dare you say such a 
thing!" 

"My dear girl" — Chris was utterly amazed — ^" isn't 
that what I've just said — ^that I didn't think you were 
jealous of her? What a little spitfire you are!" 

She had never looked at him like that before, and he 
was rather interested to discover that she had got it in 
her to flare out. 

" What would you like to do to-day ? " he asked pres- 
ently. " We don't seem to have gone about much, though 
we've been here nearly three weeks." 

" I'm quite happy as I am, and it's rather hot to go 
sight-seeing, isn't it ? " Her voice sounded weary. 

Chris looked at her sharply. 

"You're not feeling so well as you'd like me to be- 
lieve," he said suspiciously. 

Marie frowned. 

" If only you wouldn't persist in making me an in- 
valid," she complained. ^ 

Chris was offended. 

"Oh, very well! It was only for your own good." 
His face changed a little. " Here comes Feathers," he 
added. 

He had not seen his friend that morning, and he was 
not sure what sort of a reception he was going to receive, 
but Feathers behaved as if nothing had happened. He 



86 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

remarked that it was a lovely morning and that the sea 
was warmer than it had been for a month. 

" Have you been in? " Chris asked eagerly. 

" Yes — just come out." 

Chris looked at the sea. 

" I wouldn't mind a dip," he said sententiously. 

" I should have it then," Marie said. " I can stay with 
Mr. Dakers if he has nothing better to do." 

Chris looked at his friend. 

" Will you look after her ? " he asked, dubiously. 

" Delighted." 

" Right-oh ! I shan't be long." Chris turned away. 

Feathers found an empty seat in the shade, and he 
and Marie sat down. 

"And we are quite-well-thank-you to-day, I suppose, 
di ? " he asked smilingly. " I heard you were down to 
breakfast, though I did not see you." 

" Yes — I'm tired of being lazy. Did Mrs. Heriot tell 
you?" 

" I believe she did." 

Marie smiled. 

" Mrs. Heriot is very angry with me," she said. 

"Why, on earth?" 

" Because of last night." 

" Last night ! " He looked away from her guiltily. 

"Yes — about Mrs. Heriot and Chris going out to that 
fishing boat, I mean." Her eyes wandered out to sea, 
to where a group of small craft bobbed at anchor in 
the sunlight. 

" Oh ! Chris told you, of course." Feathers sounded 
infinitely relieved. 

Marie shook her head. 

" No — I heard you quarrelling with him ; my room is 
next to his, you know ! I suppose I ought not to have 
listened, but . . . well, I did ! It's quite true that listeners 
never hear anything pleasant, isn't it? That's the second 
time I've had it happen to me." 

Feathers tilted his hat over his eyes, and the rest of 
his ugly face looked rather grim. 

"I am sorry you overheard," he said constrainedly. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 87^ 

*' I did get up in the pulpit a bit, I know! And there 
was no harm in what had happened, really." 

She did not speak, and he repeated firmly : 

" There was no harm in it at all, Mrs. Lawless." 

Marie raised her eyes and laughed with a little hys- 
terical catch in her voice. 

*' Oh, surely you're not one of those people who think 
I am jealous of Mrs. Heriot?" she asked. 

" Good Lord, no ! " He sat up with sudden energy. 
" Jealous ! Of that woman ! " 

Marie gave a long sigh. 

" She thinks I ought to be," she said drearily. " I won- 
der if she is right ? " 

Feathers looked angry. 

" Of course not. What rubbish ! Chris doesn't care 
for women — ^I know for a fact that he's never cared for 
a woman in his life." 

She nodded; his words were truer than he thought, she 
told herself, seeing that Chris did not even care for her. 

" We're going back to London on Saturday," she said, 
abruptly changing the subject. , 

" Really ? That sounds as if you were rather glad." 

" So I am — ^very glad. I hate this place and every- 
body in it ! " Her voice, which had risen passionately, 
broke off, and she turned her eyes to his face. ** No, 
that is not true," she said impulsively. " I don't hate 
you — the only reason I am sorry to be going is because 
it will mean leaving you." 

She spoke with unaffected sincerity, and without real- 
izing what her words might imply, but Feathers' big 
hands were suddenly clenched into fists, and there was a 
curiously strained look about his eyes as he stared down 
at the asphalt path. 

" You are very kind," he said, formally. 

*' No, it is you who have been kind," she answered. 
" I don't know what I should have done without you — " 
She spread her hands and laughed. "Yes, I do know; 
I shotlld have been drowned." 

" I wish you would try and forget all about that." 

" I do try, but I can't ! Sometimes I dream about it. 



ii 
u 



88 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

and I wake up crying and struggling, just as if it had 
all happened again. . . ." She shivered sensitively, draw- 
ing a long breath. 

" Then Chris should have taken you away from the 
sea long ago," Feathers said decidedly. 

" He doesn't know . . ." 
Not know ! " Feathers echoed blankly. 
No . . ." she rushed on, painfully conscious of what 
he was thinking. " But we're going on Friday, and then 
I hope I shall forget all about it; I think I am sure to, 
when we are back m London." 

" Where are you gomg to stay ? " 

" With my aunt ; you know her, don't you ? " 

" Oh, yes, very well." 

But his voice sounded absent, as if his thoughts were 
far away. 

" You will come and see us, won't you ? " Marie asked 
anxiously. "You will come and stay with us when 
you are back in town, won't you ? " 

He looked up with a faint smile. 

" It is kind of you to ask me, but I am not very good 
company, you know — I am not an amusing chap like 
Chris." 

She did not answer, though she could truthfully have 
said that he had done more to pass the dreary hours of 
the last three weeks than ever Chris had attempted to do. 

" I heard from young Atkins this morning," Feathers 
said presently. "He asked very anxiously after you; 
he is a nice boy." 

"Yes, I liked him; he has written to me once or 
twice." 

" Really ! What does Chris say to that ? " 

If the question was asked deliberately it was entirely 
successful, for Marie gave a scornful little laugh as she 
answered : " Oh, he doesn't know," and once again 
Feathers echoed her words blankly. 

" Doesn't know, Mrs. Lawless ! " 

" No ! Oh, I hope you are not one of those old-fash- 
ioned people who think husband and wife should have no 
secrets from one another," she broke out with shrill 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 89 

nervousness. " Chris and I are going to be entirely 
modem — ^we agreed that from the first; each to go our 
own way, and no questions asked." 

There was a profound silence, then Feathers said 
rather painfully : 

" That is different from what you told me that morning 
on the sands, and again after your accident — ^you said 
you were sure that you could never be a modem wife, 
that your friend had told you you ought to have lived 
in early Victorian days." 

Marie gave a little sigh. 

"You have a good memory," she said hopelessly. 
" But I suppose we can all change our minds if we wish ! " 

" There is no law against it certainly, but it seems a 
pity to change it, and not for the better." 

"You don't liJke the modem woman?" 

" I despise her," said Feathers vehemently. " Look at 
the women in this hotel! They think of nothing but 
clothes and amusement and flirtations — ^there is not one 
I would cross the room to look at." 

" Present company always excepted, I hope," said 
Marie with a little whimsical smile. 

" I don't class you with that sort of woman at all," 
Feathers said stolidly. 

" Thank you, Mr. Dakers." 

He moved restlessly, almost as if the conversation 
bored him, and Marie rose with nervous haste. 

" I'm afraid I've been talking a lot of nonsense," she 
said apologetically. " I wonder if Chris is out of the 
sea yet." 

They walked to the railings and looked down on to 
the sands. 

Shall you stay here long?" she asked, suddenly. 

After we have gone, I mean." 

" I don't know ; I haven't made any plans ; I'm one 
of those people who drift with the tide, and if a wave 
casts me up on the shore, as it did when I came here, 
I just stay until another one comes along and washes 
me off again." 

She looked up at him interestedly. 



it 

u 



90 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" I have so often wondered why you came here/' she 
said suddenly. " You don't like the hotel, or the people, 
or even the place very much, do you? " 

" I came here to see you." 

"To see me!" 

" Yes — I wanted to see what sort of a woman Chris 
had married." 

"And were you very disappointed?" She asked her 
question with wistful anxiety, very sure that if he an- 
swered it at all it would be with the truth. 

" Yes, I was disappointed — ^but agreeably ! " he said, 
smiling. " I somehow imagined you would be empty- 
headed and golden-haired — ^perhaps a little older than 
Chris. I am afraid I thought you would be the type 
of woman that Mrs, Heriot is." 

" That is not much of a compliment to him." 

" Perhaps not, but that is what I thought." 

" Are you always as candid as this to everyone, Mr. 
Dakers ? " 

" I am told so — ^that is partly why I am ^o unpopular; 
that and another reason." 

" What other reason ? " 

He smiled grimly, looking down at her. 

" My ugly face," he said. 

She gave an indignant cry of protest. " Oh, you are 
not ugly! I will not allow you to say such a thing." 

And she wondered why she had ever thought him ugly 
when they first met, and then again, why she no longer 
thought so. 

" The morning I pulled you out of the water," Feathers 
said unemotionally, his eyes fixed on the sea, "a woman 
in the crowd made a remark which I shall always re- 
member. What do you think it was ? " 

"How can I guess?" 

" She said * Beauty and the Beast.' " Feathers laughed. 
" I suppose I did look rather like an old man of the 
sea— wet clothes are not becoming — to anyone," he added, 
with an amused memory of the object Chris had looked 
in his saturated dress suit. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 91 

" It was a horrible thing to have said ! " Marie cried 
hotly. " She must have been a detestable woman." 

" Oh, I don't know— I think I rather liked it." 

"Did you? How queer! Why?" 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

"Because I am a queer sort of chap, I suppose. I 
remember a woman once telling me that I wore the ugliest 
clothes she had ever seen." He glanced down at his 
baggy tweed suit. " Do you know that pleased me more 
than it would have done had she told me I was the smart- 
est man in London." 

Marie laughed. 

" In the story of ' Beauty and the Beast,' " she said, 
" the Beast turned out to be a Fairy Prince, you know." 

Feathers moved away from the railings and stood look- 
ing down the crowded promenade. 

"That is a feat beyond me, I am afraid," he said, 
quietly. " Shall we go on ? Chris will be coming di- 
rectly." 

They met him almost at once, and turned back to the 
hotel together. 

" Had a topping bath," Chris said breezily. He looked 
very fresh and sunburnt, and his hair had crinkled up 
into little waves with the salt water. As a rule he kept 
it smooth with brilliantine. 

" What have you two been doing? " he asked, looking 
at his wife. 

"Talking! I have been telling Mr. Dakers that we 
are going back to London on Friday." 

" Yes, Marie's had enough of this place and so have I," 
Chris said. " Why not come along with us and stay for 
a bit. Feathers ? " 

Feathers was lighting a cigarette, which perhaps was 
why he did not answer immediately. 

"Afraid I can't just now, thanks all the same," he 
said rather curtly. " Later on, if you'll ask me again, 
I shall be delisted." 

" Always glad to see you," Chris said. He had quite 
forgotten the little upset of last night; unpleasantnesses 



I 



92 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

passed over his head very quickly, perhaps because real 
trouble had never knocked at his door. 

" I tell Marie we shall have to look about for a house," 
he went on. " Or perhaps a flat would be better, as it's 
not such a tie, and I like going away for week-ends." 

"You'll have to stay at home now you're a married 
man, old son," said Feathers chaffingly, though his eyes 
were serious. " I thought all Benedicts buried the latch- 
key before they went to church." 

Chris laughed shortly. 

"You thought wrong then; we're not like ordinary 
humdrum married people, are we, Marie Celeste?" he 
asked, rather maliciously, with sudden bitter memory of 
the kiss she had refused him last night. 

She shook her head. 

" No, indeed, we are not, and I hope you haven't buried 
the latchkey, because I shall want one, too," she added 
with an effort. 

Chris laughed and looked triumphantly at his friend. 

"How's that for an up-to-date wife, my boy?" he 
asked. 

And a bachelor husband," Marie added deliberately. 

I should have thought the old way would have been 

good enough," Feathers said bluntly. "Excuse me, 

, there's a man I want to speak to." He struck oflP across 

the hotel grounds and left them. 

Chris looked at his wife and laughed. 

" Queer old stick, isn't he ? " he asked. 

" He's been very kind to me," Marie answered. 

" He's kind to everybody," Chris agreed. " I hope I 
shall not lose sight of him just because I am married." 

"Why should you?" 

" Because he's a confirmed bachelor, and he thought 
I was ; he was furious with me for getting married." 

"Was he?" 

" Yes, we always knocked about together, you see, and 
I suppose he thiiJcs ever)rthing will be different now." 

" It need not be," said Marie. 

" No, that's what I tell him," Chris agreed, eagerly. 






A BACHELOR HUSBAND 93 

"I told him you were not an exacting woman; I told 
him that we had known one another all our lives." 

There was a little silence. 

" Did you tell him why you married me? " Marie asked. 

Chris flushed. 

" What do you mean ? Is it likely ? " 

" I thought you might, as — ^as it was only just a sort 
of business arrangement." 

Chris stood still and looked down at her. 

"Do you know that you have altered a great deal 
lately, Marie Celeste ? " he said. 

She forced herself to look at him. 

" Do you mean my face ? " 

He frowned. " Your face — ^no ! I mean In yourself ! 
I was only thinking this morning that you seem abso- 
lutely different to — ^to the girl you were that day outside 
Westminster Abbey ? " 

She turned sharply away. 

" Perhaps I am; a great deal Has happened since then." 

Chris seemed to be considering the point. 

" Years ago," he said suddenly, " I used to flatter my- 
self that you were rather fond of me, Marie Celeste." 

She caught her breath, but made no answer, and lie 
persisted, " You were, weren't you ? " 

" Yes — of course I was ! " she said desperately. 

"Even up to that last time you went back to Paris 
I thought the same," he went on. " You had a funny 
little way of looking at me, Marie Celeste — a way I rather 
liked, I remember." 

" And that made you think I was desperately in love 
with you ? " she asked, in a hard voice. 

"Well, not desperately in love, perhaps, but I used 
to think you had a sort of sneaking affection for me — I 
was a conceited donkey, I suppose." 

"I married you — ^an)rway!" she said breathlessly. 

" Yes, and what a marriage," he ejaculated. 

Marie put her hand to her throat as if she were chok- 
ing. 

" I thought we were getting along well together." 



94 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" Did you ? That all depends what you mean by well ! 
I suppose it's all right, if it suits you." 

She gave a queer little laugh. 

"Qiris, you are not trying to pretend that you're in 
love with me ! " The words seemed forced from her and 
her heart beat to suffocation as she waited for his reply. 

It came without a second's hesitation. 

" I suppose I've never been in love with any woman, 
but if there ever has been anyone it's been you, Marie 
Celeste." 

A poor little grain of comfort, and yet it was comfort 
to know that nobody else came before her. 

She felt almost happy for the rest of the day; even 
Feathers noticed that her eyes were brighter and that 
there was more color in her cheeks. 

" This place is doing you good at last, Mrs. Lawless," 
he said to her during the evening. " It's the first time 
I've seen you with a color." 

She put up her hands to her cheeks, laughingly. 

"And it's my own," she said, "and not out of the 
box.;' 

His grave eyes searched her face. 

" Ignoramus as I am, I could have told you that," he 
answered. 

Mrs. Heriot came rustling up to them; she wore a 
beautiful evening gown, cut rather unnecessarily low, and 
a diamond star glittered on her white neck. 

*' What are you two laughing about ? " she demanded. 
" Mr. Dakers, I must compliment you. You always seem 
to be able to make Mrs. Lawless laugh, and she's such 
a serious little person as a rule." 

She sat down between them; she always liked to be 
the center of a conversation. 

"There'll be no moon to-night," she said suddenly. 
" It's clouded over ; I think we shall have some rain." 

" It must be badly needed," Feathers said sententiously. 

She made a little grimace. 

" The crops and the farmers want it, I suppose you 
mean! Do you know that I've no interest in either 
of them ? " 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 95 

" You surprise me," said Feathers gravely. 

She held out her white hand. 

" Give me a cigarette, Mr. Dakers ! " She glanced 
round the lounge. 

" Where is everyone to-night ? " she asked plaintively. 

" I think most of the men are in the billiard room," 
Marie said hesitatingly ; she knew that Chris was — ^he had 
asked her permission first, and the little attention had 
pleased her, though she knew quite well that he would 
have gone, an)rway, had he desired to go. 

" I think Mr. Dakers is simply splendid, you know," 
Mrs. Heriot said with enthusiasm, when presently he had 
walked away. " He makes such a wonderful friend, 
doesn't he?" 

He is very kind," Marie agreed frigidly. 
How you will miss him ! " the elder woman went on 
sympathetically. *' Or is he going back to town with 
you?" 

" No, he is not going back with us," Marie said. 

Her eyes went across the lounge, to where Feathers 
stood talking to some people, and her heart contracted 
with a sudden fear. 

Yes, she would miss him, she knew ! She was afraid 
to think how much. 






CHAPTER iX 
'^ime keeps no measure when two friends are parted.'' 

MARIE woke on the Friday morning with the vague 
feeling that something unpleasant was going to 
happen. 

She lay for a moment looking round the room with 
sleepy eyes, then suddenly she remembered — ^they were 
going back to London! 

She sat up in bed, her dark hair falling about her 
shoulders, and stared at her half -packed luggage. 

This was the end of her honeymoon I Nearly a month 
since she had been married — a month of bitterness and 
disappointments, with only one bright memory attaching 
to it — ^her friendship with Feathers. 

And now she was leaving even that behind! She was 
conscious of a little shrinking fear as she thought of it. 

Who would help her through the long days when he 
was not at hand? She fell back helplessly on her old 
futile hope. 

** I shall be used to it soon ! I must get used to living 
like this soon, surely ! " 

There would be Aunt Madge, too; It was comforting 
to think of her, but Marie did not realize that when she 
married Chris she had burnt her boats behind her, and 
would never again find happiness or contentment in the 
simple things tihat had pleased her before. 

Her heart was heavy as she went downstairs ; it was a 
particularly beautiful morning, and her eyes were misty 
with tears as she looked at the blue sea and the sunlight 
and realized that to-morrow she would open her eyes on 
bricks and mortar and smoky London. 

Yet it had been her own wish to return. She could 
have stayed on had she chosen. 

96 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 97 

" Good morning," said Feathers beside her. 

She turned quickly, her eyes brightening. 

" Am I down before you ? It's generally the other way 
about ? " 

" Yes, I overslept myself. Where's Chris ? " 

" I don't think he's up yet.*' 

There was a little silence. 

"Are you going by tne morning train?" Feathers 
asked presently. 

"No, after limch, I think; we shall be home about 
five." 

She looked up at him wistfully. "Have you got a 
headache ? " she asked in concern. " You look as if you 
have." 

He laughed. 

" No. I don't indulge in such luxuries, but I didn't 
sleep particularly well last night." 

" A guilty conscience? " Marie said, teasingly. 

" Probably." He stepped out into the sunny garden. 
" Shall we go for a stroll, as it's your last morning? " 

She followed at once. 

" That sounded so horrid," she said, with a half sigh. 
" My last morning ! It sounds as if I were going to be 
executed or something." 

"The last of happy days here, I should have said," 
Feathers corrected himself gravely. " I hope it will 
also be the first of many and much happier days to 



come." 



i( 



Thank you." Suddenly she laughed. "Why, it's 
Friday! I always seem to choose unlucky days to go 
to places or do important things. ^ I was married on 
Friday, and I came home from Paris after father died 
on Friday." 

" Well, it's as good a day as any other." 

She shook her head. 

"Not for me," she said, unthinkingly, then laughed 
to cover the admission of her words. 

" I'm superstitious, you see." 

"Absurd!" 
I know it is, and I never used to be." 



<i 



1 



9B A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" I don't believe you are now/' he declared. 

" What are you looking at ? " Marie had stood sud- 
denly still, and was looking down on the sands. 

The tide was out, and a man and woman were walking 
along together close to the water's edge. 

" It's Chris and Mrs. Heriot," Feathers said quietly. 
** Shall we go and meet them ? " 

He turned towards the steps leading down to the shore, 
but Marie did not move. She was very pale, and the 
look in her eyes cut him to the heart when he looked 
at her. 

" I don't think I will — I'd rather go back — ^they haven't 
seen us," she answered. 

She would have turned back the way they had come, 
but Feathers resolutely barred the way. 

" Mrs. Lawless, don't vou think it would be much 
wiser to come along and meet them?" he asked de- 
liberately. 

She raised her troubled eyes to his. 

" I don't want to . . . why need I ? Oh, do you think 
I must ? " 

He tried to laugh, as if it were a subject of no im- 
portance. 

" Why not ? They have probably seen us." 

He could see refusal in her face; then all at once she 
gave in. 

" Very well." But her steps dragged as she followed 
him down to the sands, and her face had not regained 
its color. 

Feathers was racking his brains for means whereby 
to disperse the suspicion which he knew was in her mind. 
He was cursing Chris with all his heart, even while he 
was level-headed enough to guess that in all probability 
his friend's meeting with Mrs. Heriot was entirely one 
of chance. When they were near enough he called out 
to them cheerily: 

" Now, then, you two, it's breakfast time, so hurry ! 
Mrs. Lawless and I have been right along to the head- 
land." 

It was not the truth, but Marie hardly noticed what 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 99 

he said; she was tr3ring desperately to recover her com- 
posure and face Mrs. Heriot with a smile. 

They walked back to the hotel, the two men behind. 

" I am so sorry we are leaving, now it has really come 
to the point," Marie said. She kept her hands clenched 
in the pockets of the little woolly coat she wore; she 
wondered if the elder woman could hear the hardness 
of her voice. 

" I'm ever so sorry, too," Mrs. Heriot said gushingly. 
" It's the worst of an hotel, isn't it? As soon as one gets 
to like people they leave." 

" One can always meet them again," Marie said delib- 
erately. She was wondering desperately if Chris had al- 
ready made some such arrangement with this woman. 

Mrs. Heriot smiled enigmatically. 

" It so seldom happens, though," she said. " Life is 
so like that book, * Ships that pass in the night,' don't 
you think?" 

" I haven't read it," Marie said bluntly. 

She hated Mrs. Heriot, hated everything about her 
— ^her voice, her smile, even her clothes — she hated them 
all ; she went straight in to breakfast without waiting 
for Chris, and when he joined her she was quite well 
aware that his eyes were turned to her again and again 
anxiously. 

Directly breakfast was over she turned to go upstairs, 
but he followed, 

"Where are you going, Marie Celeste?" He tried 
hard to speak naturally, but he had never felt more un- 
comfortable in his life; he knew what Marie must be 
thinking, and he realized that the only explanatipn he 
could offer of his early walk with Mrs. Heriot was a 
very thin one indeed. 

She answered without stopping or looking round. 

" I am going to finish packing." 

" I'll come with you." 

She did not answer, and he followed her up to her 



room. 



Why don't you go and have a swim?" she asked 
then. "It's a pity to waste the last morning indoors." 



^^^^^& 



100 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" I will go if you will come with me," he said at once. 

She shook her head. 

" No, thank you ; I haven't got the nerve." 

"You'll be perfectly safe with me; I'll look after 
you." 

She shook her head again. 

" No, thank you." * 

She began walking about the room, folding up the few 
things she had not already packed and ramming them 
anyhow into the open truxJc. 

Chris watched her for a moment with morose eyes; 
then all at once he blurted out: 

" Hang it all ! I know what you're thinking, so why 
don't you say it?" 

" I don't know what you mean." 

" You do know. Marie, stop walking about and come 
here." 

" I can't ; there's a lot to do, and I'm busy." 

Chris strode across to her, tore the little frock she was 
folding from her hands and threw it down on the bed. 

" I hate being treated like this ! " he said passionately. 
** I won't have it! If you think I arranged to meet that 
infernal woman, why the devil can't you say so and have 
done with it ? " 

" I don't care if you arranged to meet her or not." 

He laughed. " You do ! I could see in your face at 
once that you were angry about it. Come, Marie Celeste, 
own up I " 

He laid his hand on her arm carelessly, but she flung 
him off; his touch seemed to rouse all her pent-up pas- 
sion and bitterness; her eyes blazed as she turned and 
faced him. 

" How many more times am I to tell you that I don't 
care what you do or who you spend your time with? 
You can go out with Mrs. Heriot all day and every day 
for all I care. I shoiild stay down here longer, if I were 
you ; there's no need for you to come home." 

She was trembling in every limb; she leaned against 
the end of the bed to steady herself. 

Chris had flushed up to his eyes ; he had a hot temper 






A BACHELOR HUSBAND 101 

once it was aroused, as Marie knew, and something in 
the way in which she looked at him had roused it 
now. 

He answered as angrily as she that he should choose 
his own friends, and spend his time as he liked; if she 
thought he was going to be tied to her apron strings 
for tiie rest of his life she was mistaken; he had been 
used to having his own way, and he was going to con- 
tinue to have it. Having relieved himself of a few more 
violent remarks, he calmed down a little, strode over to 
the window and flung it wide. 

Dash it all," he went on presently, more quietly. 

It's no worse than you walking about the whole time 
with Feathers. I might just as well cut up rough and 
forbid you to speak to him, but I'm not such a fool; 
I hope I can trust you." He liked the sound of that 
last phrase; he thought it exceedingly tactful; he looked 
round at his wife with a faint smile. 

He thought he knew her so wellr— thought he had 
sounded every depth and shallow of her nature. All their 
lives they had had these little breezes, which had blown 
over almost at once and been forgotten. 

He was horrified, therefore, to see Marie standing with 
her face buried in her hands, her whole slim body shak- 
ing with sobs. 

Chris stood staring at her helplessly. Marie so seldom 
cried, it gave him a bad shock to see her so upset — ^he 
must have said a great deal more than he had intended. 
He flushed with angry shame. 

"Marie — for heaven's sake!" He went to her and 
put his arms round her, clumsily, but still with something 
comforting in their clasp. 

"Don't cry, for God's sake!" he begged agitatedly. 
"What did I say? Whatever it was, I didn't mean it 
— ^you know that I " He pressed her head down against 
his shoulder, keeping his hand on her soft hair. 

" Sorry, Marie Celeste ! " he said htmibly. " I was 
a brute; it shall never happen again." 

She pushed him s^ently from her, walking away to try 
and recover herself. 



/ 



102 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" It's all right," she said presenter with an effort, her 
voice broken by little sobbing breaths. " It's all rig^t 
Please go away and leave me alone." 

She was bitterly ashamed to have broken down before 
him — ^he who so hated tears and a scene. 

She dried her eyes fiercely and tried to laugh. 

" I don't often — cry, you know," she defended herself. 

"I know you don't." Chris ran agitated fingers 
through his hair. " It was my fault. I hope you'll for- 
give me." He followed her and put an arm round her 
shoulders. 

" Forgive me and forget it, Marie Celeste, will yoti ? " 

" It's all forgotten." 

He laughed ruefully. 

** You say that, but you don't mean it. And really 
it wasn't my fault this morning. I went out early and 
met Mrs. Heriot on the sands — I thought she never got 
up early. I swear to you that it was no fault of 
mine. I don't care for the woman. I've told you so, 
haven't I ? " 

"Yes." She could not explain that it was not ordi- 
nary jealousy of Mrs. Heriot that was breaking her 
heart, but jealousy of the fact that this woman could 
prove an amusing companion to him, whereas she her- 
self was such a failure. The tears came again in spite 
of her efforts, and she pressed her hands hard over her 
eyes in a vain effort to restrain them. "Oh, if you 
would only go away ! " she faltered wildly. 

Chris turned away with an impatient sigh; he felt at 
fault because of his inability to comfort her; he went 
downstairs and hunted up Feathers. 

" Come on out for a walk," he said gruffly. 

Feathers looked up from his paper, saw the frown qn 
his friend's face and rose. 

" Right-oh! Where is Mrs. Lawless?" 

" Packing." 

** It seems a pity for her not to get all the air she can, 
as it's her last morning." 

" I asked her to come out, and she refused." 

They went out together. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 103 

Chris walked along, his hands in his pockets, his shoul- 
ders hunched dejectedly. Feathers was perfectly well 
aware that something was wrong, but asked no questions, 
and presently Chris broke out wrathfuUy. 

" What the devil a man wants to get mixed up with 
women for I'm hanged if I know." 

Feathers was looking out at the sea, and his 'face 
changed a little as he asked carelessly: 

"Well, who has been getting mixed up with them?" 

" No one in particular fiiat I know of ! I simply made 
a remark." 

" Oh, I see/' 

There was a faint sneer in Feathers' voice, and his 
eyes looked grim; he knew that if he waited Chris would 
presently explode again, and he was right. 

" Marriage," said Chris, with the air of one who has 
suddenly lighted upon a great and original discovery, " is 
a danmed awful gamble, and that's a fact." 

Feathers stopped to knock the ashes from his pipe 
against a wooden post. 

" It's not compulsory, anyWa^," he said quietly. " After 
all, men marry to please themselves." 

" Or to please someone else," said Chris with a growl. 

There was a little silence. 

" Or for money," said Feathers deliberately. 

Chris stopped to kick a pebble off the promenade to 
the sands below, and he answered his friend gloomily : 

" Nobody but a fool would marry a woman for her 
money." 

Feathers stared. He opened his mouth as if to speak, 
but closed it again with a little snap. 

After all, what use was it to raise an argument? He 
did not want to quarrel with Chris, and yet he knew that 
he had neveix had a better reason for so doing. 

** When are you coming back to town r " Chris asked 
after a moment. 

"Don't know; haven't made up my mind yet." 
Feathers looked at Chris quizzically. "Suppose you'll 
rather drop out of things now, eh?" he asked. 

Chris stared. 



104 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

"Drop out? Good Lord, no!" he flushed angrily. 
" What do you mean — ^because I happen to have got 
married?" 

" n generally makes a difference/' Feathers said 
lightly. 

"Not in my case. Marie's a sensible girl— dash it! 
I've known her all my life." 

" Yes, that's the trouble." 

"What the deuce do you mean?" 

" I mean that you're rather apt to lose sight of the 
fact that she's no longer a kind of sister to you, but a 
wife," Feathers said quietly. " Also, I suppose that when 
you were kids together she spoilt you like the devil, and 
it looks as if she means to go on spoiling you." 

Chris laughed in amusement. 

" Spoils me — Marie spoils me I That's good ! " He 
really thought it was. Like most men whose chief ambi- 
tion it is to see that they get their own way no matter 
at what inconvenience to others, he was quite unconscious 
of the fact; he really thought he was rather an unselfish 
man; he certainly considered that perhaps with the ex- 
ception of the little scene this morning when he had 
lost his temper he had treated Marie rather well. 

" You don't understand women, my dear chap," he 
said cheerily. 

Feathers looked at him squarely. 

" Do you ? " he asked. 

Chris looked rather nonplussed. 

" Well, perhaps I don't," he admitted. " And perhaps 
I don't want to. I prefer a man's company any day 
to a woman's, you know that — except Marie's, of course," 
he added hastily. 

There was a little silence. 

" What do you think of my wife, an)rway ? " he asked, 
with a rather forlorn attempt at jocularity. 

" What do I think of her ? " Feathers echoed. " Well 
— she's all right," he added lamely. He stopped, and bared 
his head to 3ie cool sea breeze. " Hadn't we better turn 
back?" he asked. 

They strolled back to the hotel together; a perspiring 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 105 

porter was staggering across the lounge with Marie's 
luggage. Chris* portmanteau and suit-case stood already 
by the door. 

" We're not going till after lunch," Chris said, " They 
turn you out of your rooms in a hurry, don't they? I 
wonder where Marie is?" 

" She's sitting over there in the window/' Feathers 
answered. 

He had seen Marie as soon as they entered the lounge — 
seen something in her face, too, that pierced his heart 
like a knife as he turned deliberately and walked away 
from her. 

He had been prepared to dislike Christopher's wife, 
because he had thought she would rob him of his friend, 
but in the last three weeks something seemed to have 
played pitch and toss with all his preconceived ideas of 
marriage and women. 

He went out into the garden, and stayed there until 
he knew that lunch must be almost finished, then he 
strolled in. 

Chris and his wife were in the lounge, dressed for 
traveling. Marie was looking anxiously towards the door 
as he came slowly forward and her wistful face lightened 
as she saw him. 

"Where have you been?" Chris demanded. "We're 
just off, you old rotter." 

" I didn't know it was so late." He looked at Marie. 
** I hope you'll have a pleasant journey back," he said. 
The words sounded absurdly formal and unlike him, and 
the girl's face flushed in faint perplexity. 

" Thank you, I hope we shall." 

There was a taxi at the door, piled with luggage; 
Mrs. Heriot was close by, dressed in a very smart 
tweed costume, and with her golf clubs slung over her 
shoulder. 

She looked at Chris commiseratingly. 

"You poor dear, going back to smoky old London! 
Don't you wish you were coming out on tiie downs with 
me?" 



106 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 



Chtis laughed, and held out his hand. 

" Good-by, Mrs. Heriot. Good-by and — ^what do people 
say? — ^until our next merry meeting!" 

She shook hands with Marie. 

" Good-by, you dear thing, and I'm so glad you're so 
much better." 

Feathers was standing by the door of the taxi, his 
rather shabby slouch hat tilted over his eyes, his hands 
thrust into his « pockets. 

Marie turned to him. 

" Good-by, Mr. Dakcrs." 

" Good-by, Mrs. Lawless." He shook her hand in his 
big paw, squeezed it and let it go, standing back to make 
room for Chris. 

Several of the hotel visitors who had been rather 
friendly with Chris came clustering for a last word. 

" See you in town, old chap — cherio ! Don't forget to 
look me up! You've got my address." 

The taxi-driver interposed. 

" You ain't got too much time for the train, sir." 
. "Right-oh! Good-by." The taxicab wheeled about 
and out into the road. A sudden mist blurred Marie's 
eyes as she turned in her seat for a last look. She had 
been unhappy here, and yet — something within her shrank 
from the thought of leaving it all behind. She had grown 
to dread the future. In her nervous, apprehensive state 
she had no hope that this fresh step would be for the 
better, and she shrank from further pain and disap- 
pointment. 

When the cab had vanished down the road Mrs. Heriot 
turned to Feathers. 

You haven't had any lunch," she said. 
No, no, I'm not hungry," he said absently. 

He walked away from the door and into the hotel. 
The lounge was crowded with people, laughing and chat- 
terine together, and as he passed the inquiry desk he 
heard one of the clerks say : 

" We shan't have a room vacant for three weeks. I 
don't remember when we were so full.'* 

Was the hotel full I Feathers turned and looked round 



€4 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 107 

the crowded lounge as he went slowly up the stairs to 
his room; strange that it seemed more empty and de- 
serted to him than ever before. 

• •••••• 

As the train drew slowly out of the station, Chris 
looked across at his wife with a rather nervous smile. 

"Well, that's the end of our honeymoon," he said 
grimly, 

" Yes " — Marie had quite recovered from her break- 
down of the morning and she answered quietly enough 
— " we've had a good time, haven't we ? " 

"Have we? Opinions differ, I suppose." 

She took no notice. 

" I've never stayed in an hotel before," she went on, 
" so I suppose that's why I enjoyed everything so much. 
It will seem very quiet with Aunt Madge, won't it? " 

" We need not stay with her." 

" I think we must for a week or two, till something can 
be arranged." 

Chris threw down a magazine he had picked up. 

"What sort of arrangement would you like?" he 
asked. " I want you to please yourself in every way 
without considering me." He paused. 

" I've got some rooms at Knightsbridge, you know," 
he went on casually. " I'm not at all sure that it wouldn't 
be a good idea to keep them on for a while." 

Marie caught her breath with a little stifled sotmd. 
Keep them on?" she echoed. 
Yes — ^they're only bachelor rooms, but I've had some 
pretty good times there, and they might be handy until 
we can find something better." 

" Yes." 

" So I don't want you to feel tied at all," he went on. 
" I want you to do as you like, you know — ^have your 
own friends, and go about! There isn't any need to 
worry about money — there's plenty." 

" Yes," she said again stupidly ; then, " I suppose father 
left a great deal ? " 

"He did, yes. ^I didn't bother you about the will— it 






108 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

wasn't necessary; but, of course, everything has been 
properly drawn up." 

" Yes." She was not interested ; what did mere money 
matter? It could not buy for her the only thing she 
wanted in the world. 

They seemed to have left the sunshine behind them 
with the sea, for as they neared London the sky grew 
overcast and large raindrops splashed down and against 
the windows. 

Marie looked at Chris; the last time she had traveled 
this way was when she was summoned from Paris at her 
father's death. 

So much had happened since then, and yet Chris 
looked exactly the same, no older, no sadder, though she 
felt that she herself was both. 

" I hope Mr. Dakers will come and see us soon," she 
said impulsively. 

Chris laughed 

'* I don't suppose he will — ^he likes a free-and-easy life ; 
he'd hate it if Aunt Madge expected him to get into dress 
togs every evening." 

" Would he ? " She felt despondent ; she supposed 
that she could not expect anyone to wish to come and 
visit her. 

She thought of her friend, Dorothy Webber, with envy. 
If only she had been like Dorothy, full of go and a great 
sportswoman, Chris would at least have been pleased to 
be with her for the sake of mutual tastes and agreeable 
companionship. 

It was raining fast when they got to London ; a crowd 
of people had come up on their train, and it was difficult 
to get a taxi. 

Chris began to get irritable. 

" Didn't you tell Aunt Madge what time we should 
irrive ? " he asked. " She might have sent the car." " 

" I didn't know what time — ^you hadn't decided when 
I wrote," Marie answered anxiously. "I am sure she 
would have sent the car if she had known." 

Chris looked inclined to be sulky. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 109 

" I shall buy one of my own, and be independent/' he 
said with a frown. 

But they secured a taxi in the end, and Chris slammed 
the door and sat down beside his wife with a sigh of re- 
lief. 

" I loathe traveling," he said. 

She looked at him in surprise. 

*' I thought you liked it ; you used to do a great deal 
before — ^before we were married." 

He laughed. 

" Oh, well, a bachelor's travels are rather different to 
taking a wife and half a dozen trunks along. It's the 
luggage that's such a bother." He sat up with sudden 
energy. " Marie Celeste, what are you going to tell 
Aunt Madge?" 

"What do you mean?" But she knew quite well. 

He avoided her eyes. 

" You know what I mean. I don't want to talk about 

it, but it's just as well for us both to tell the same story, 

or at least not to contradict one another.'* 

""I see. Well — I wasn't going to tell her anything. 

Why should I? It's nothing to do with Aunt Madge." 

He colored a little. 

" Very well, if that is your wish; and — Marie Celeste?" 

" Yes." 

" I hope you've forgotten about this morning. I lost 
my temper ; I ought not to have spoken to you as I did." 

" It's all quite forgotten," she assured him steadily. 

His face cleared. 

" That's good ; I don't want the old lady to think things 
are wrong already." 

Marie almost laughed. Wrong already ! He spoke as 
if the scene in her room that morning had been tfie first 
storm to mar a honejmioon of otherwise complete happi- 
ness. 

Chris let down the window with a run and looked out. 

"Here we are!" he said cheerily. "And there she 
is at the window." 

He waved his hand to Miss Chester, and turned to see 
about the luggage. Marie went on into the house. 



no A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" My darling child ! " She was clasped in Miss Ches- 
ter's arms and fervently kissed. " How glad I am to see 
you again ! And have you had a happy time ? " 

" Of course we have ! *' Marie bent to kiss her again 
to end further questioning, and they went into the draw- 
ing-room together. 

Marie looked round her with sad eyes. It seemed such 
an eternity since she was here — such an eternity since that 
Sunday afternoon when Chris had asked her to go for a 
walk with him^ and the walk had ended in that never-to- 
be-forgotten moment outside Westminster Abbey. 

Then she had looked forward to radiant days of hap- 
piness, but she felt now that ever since she had been 
going backwards, retreating from the golden hopes that 
for a little while had dazzled her eyes. 

Miss Chester was pouring out tea and talking all the 
time. 

" I have had your rooms all redecorated, Marie, be- 
cause — ^though of course I know you will get a house of 
your own before long — I like to think that you will often 
come here, you and Chris/ 

"Yes, dear, thank you.' 

Marie tried to speak enthusiastically, but it was a poor 
little failure, and Miss Chester looked up quickly, struck 
by some new tone in the girl's voice. 

But she made no comment until later on when she 
and Chris were alone for a moment, and then she said 
anxiously : 

" Chris, I don't think you ever told me how very ill 
Marie was after that accident in the sea?" 

** How ill ? " he echoed. " She wasn't very ill ; she had 
to stay in her room for a few days of course, but she 
wasn't really ill. Aunt Madge. What do you mean?" 

*' My dear boy ! When she is such a shadow ! Why, 
there is nothing of her, and her poor little face is all 
eyes! She looks to me as if she is recovering from a 
terrible illness." 

Chris smiled rather uneasily. 

" You're over-anxious," he said. " Tfee doctor assured 



ft 

■ 
t9 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 111 



me that she was all right, and I think she is. Has she 
complained about not feeling well to you?" 

" Oh, no, nothing, but I haven't seen her for a month, 
and perhaps I notice the change more than you do. 

Chris " He had turned to go, but stopped when 

she spoke his name. 

" Yes, Aunt Madge." 

" Come here, Chris." 

He came back reluctantly, and Miss Chester rose from 
her chair, and, laying her hands on his shoulders, looked 
earnestly into his eyes. 

" There isn't anything wrong, Chris ? You're both 
quite happy?" 

*' Of course ! " But he, too, bent and kissed her as 
Marie Celeste had done^ to aypid further questioning. 



CHAPTER X 

•The hour which might have been, yet might not be. 
Which man's and woman's heart conceived and bore. 
Yet whereof Ufe was barren, on what shore 
Bides it the breaking of Time's weary sea?" 

MARIE had only been back in London two days 
when she realized that, as far as Chris was con- 
cerned, she need expect nothing more than the 
casual affection which he had always bestowed upon her. 

He was just the Chris she had always known — selfish 
and irresponsible and wholly charming. 

Sometimes she despised herself because, no matter 
how indifferent he might be to her, her love in no way 
lessened. She felt that it would be much more for her 
happiness and much more sensible if she could grow 
as indifferent to him as he was to her. 

Time after time she told herself that she would not 
care, that she would not let him hurt her, but it was 
useless. The first cold glance, the first small act of 
neglect, and the old wound ached afresh. 

Her greatest fear was that Miss Chester would know 
the real state of things. When she was present Marie 
always exerted every nerve to appear bright and happy ; 
she went out of her way to talk to Chris. She was de- 
termined that the old lady should believe they had had 
a thoroughly good time and were perfectly happy. 

She did not understand that eyes that appear woefully 
blind can often see the clearest. Miss Chester had long 
ago discovered for herself that this marriage, like many 
others she had seen during her life, was turning out a 
failure. 

She was too wise to let either of them know of her 
discovery, but she shed many tears over it in secret and 
lay awaice night after night wondering what she could 

112 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 113 

do to hdp and put things right, but realizing that she 
could do absolutely nothmg. 

Interference would make things worse. She under- 
stood thoroughly the different temperaments with which 
she had to contend; she knew just how proud Marie was, 
just how obstinate Chris could be. She could only wait 
and hope with a trembling heart. 

Chris seemed to have drifted back to his bachelor 
days ; he came and went as he chose, and he said no more 
about looking for a house wherein he and Marie might 
make their home. 

Miss Chester spoke of it once to Marie. 

" My dear, don't you think you should be looking 
about for a house of your own? I love you to be with 
me, but I am iure that Chris must want his own home — 
it's only natural." 
' " I think Chris is quite happy, Aunt Madge," Marie 
answered, in the too quiet voice in which she always 
spoke to Miss Chester. 

" Quite happy ! But what about you ? " the old lady 
asked indignantly. " Every wife wants her own home ; 
it's only natural, and there's plenty of money for you to 
have a delightful home." 

" Money again ! " Marie thought wearily. What great 
store everyone seemed to set by it ! 

Chris had opened a banking account for her, and told 
her to draw what she wanted and amuse herself; but 
Marie had not yet learnt the value of money, and beyond 
spending a few pounds on clothes and odds and ends 
she had not touched it. 

He had given her a diamond engagement ring and 
another beautiful ring when they were married. One 
afternoon when they were lunching alone. Miss Chester 
being absent, he said to Marie suddenly: 

" Wouldn't you like a pearl necklace or something? " 
The vagueness of the question made her smile; there 
was something so boyish about it, so very like the Chris 
she had known years ago. 

"I should if you think I ought to have one," she 
answered. 



114 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

** I don't know about ' ought to/ " he said, dubiously. 
^ But other women have trinkets and things, and pearls 
would suit you, you're so dark ! We'll go out this after- 
noon and look at some, shall we? " 

She flushed with pleasure ; it was so seldom that Chris 
suggested taking her anywhere. She ran upstairs to 
dress, feeling almost happy ; she was so easily influenced 
by Chris — z kind word or thought from him kept her 
content for days, just as a cross word or an act of in- 
difference carried her down to the depths of despair. 

It was a sunny afternoon, and a heavy shower of rain 
overnight had washed the smoky face of London clean 
and left it with a wonderful touch of brightness. 

"Are we going in the car?" Marie asked, and was 
glad when Qbiris said that he would rather walk if she 
did not mind. 

They set off together happily enough. It was on occa- 
sions like this that Marie tried to cheat herself into the 
belief that Chris did care for her a little after all, and 
that it was only his awkward self-consciousness that pre- 
vented him from letting her know of it — ^a happy illusion 
while it lasted ! 

It was after they had bought the necklace — a charming 
double row of beautiful pearls — ^and were having tea that 
Chris said suddenly : " Marie Celeste, why don't you go 
about more and enjoy yourself?" 

She looked up with startled eyes. 

" Gro about ! " she echoed quietly. ** Do you mean by 
myself?" 

He did not seem to hear the tmderl3ring imputation, 
and answered quite naturally: "No, can't you make 
friends or ask some people to stay with you ? You must 
have friends." 

The color rushed to her face. 

" I had some friends at school," she answered, " but 
not many. I don't think I was very popular. There's 
Dorothy Webber " 

" Wdl, why not ask her to stay with you ? " 

There was a little silence. 

" I don't think I want her," Marie said slowly. Dor- 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND US 

othy Webber and Mrs. Heriot had always somehow gone 
together in her mind; they were both essentially men's 
women — ^very gay and companionable — ^and though she 
would not have admitted it for the world, Marie did 
not want Chris to meet Dorothy Webber. 

" Oh, well, if you don't want her, of course that alters 
things," he said with a shrug. "But it seems a pity 
not to have a better time, Marie Celeste! Most women 
with your money would be setting the Thames on fire." 

" Would they ? What would they do ? " 

He looked nonplussed. 

" Well, they'd go to theatres and dances, and play 
cards, and things like that," he explained vaguely. " I 
don't know much about women, but I do know that not 
many of them stay at home as much as you do." 

She sat silent for a moment, then she said: "You 
mean that it would please you if — ^if I was more like 
other women? " 

He laughed apologetically. " Well, I should feel hap- 
pier about you," he admitted awkwardly. "It's not 
natural for a girl of your age to stick at home so much. 
Time enough in another thirty years." 

"Yes." Marie remembered with a little ache the 
kindly warning which Feathers had several times tried 
to give her. 

" Chris wants a woman who can be a pal to him — ^to 
go in for things that he likes — ^and you could, if you chose 
to try ! " He had said just those words to her many 
times, and though in her heart she had always known 
that the first part of them was true, she felt herself 
utterly incapable of following his advice. 

If she had loved Chris less it would have been far 
easier for her, but as it was, she was always fearful of 
annoying him, or oi wearying him with her attempts 
to be what he wanted. 

"There's no need to stay in town all the autumn, 
either," Chris went on, after a moment. " Why not go 
down to the country, or to somewhere you've never been ? 
There must be heaps of places you know nothing about, 
Marie Celeste." 



116 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

She laughed at that. 

" Why, I've never been an3rwhere, except to school in 
France, and to Brighton or Bournemouth for summer 
holidays." 

Qiris lit a cigarette. 

"If you could get a friend to go with you, there's no 
reason why you shouldn't go to Wales or Ireland," he 
said, his eyes bent on his task. 

Marie stared at him ; she could feel the col6r receding 
from her cheeks. So he did not mean to take her him- 
self! 

She became conscious that she had been sitting there 
dumbly for many minutes; she roused herself with ah 
effort. 

" Perhaps I will — ^later on," she said. 

The pearl necklace of which she had been so proud 
a moment ago felt like a leaden weight on her throat. 
She wondered hopelessly what he was going to say next, 
and once again the little streak of happiness that had 
touched her heart faded and died away. 

And then all at once she seemed to understand; per- 
haps the steady way in which he kept his eyes averted 
from her told her a good deal, or perhaps little Marie 
Celeste was growing wise, for she leaned towards him 
and said rather breathlessly^ trying to smile: 

" You are very anxious to dispose of me ! Why don't 
you find a friend and go away for the autumn too ? " 

She waited in an agony for his reply, and it seemed a 
lifetime till it came. 

" Well, Aston Knight said something about it when I 
saw him last night. You remember Aston Knight ? " 

Marie nodded; she remembered him, as she remem- 
bered everything else to do with her fateful wedding. 
He had been best man because JFeathers had refused. 
What did he say ? " she asked with dry lips. 
Oh, nothing!" Chris spoke as if it were a matter 
of no consequence. "We haven't arranged anything, 
but he asked me to run up to St. Andrews with him 
later on for some golf. You don't care for golf, I know, 






A BACHELOR HUSBAND 117 

and I shouldn't care to go unless you were having a good 
time somewhere, too . . ." 

She did not care for golf. It was clever of him to 
put it that way, she thought, as she answered bravely: 

"Well, why don't you go? You would enjoy it." 

He looked at her for the first time, and there was a 
vague sort of discomfort in his handsome eyes. 

" You're sure you don't mind? " 

" Mind ! " Marie almost laughed. What difference 
would it make if she told him that she hated the idea 
of his going away from her more than anything in the 
world. "Of course I don't mind; I should certainly 
arrange to go. I thought we agreed that we were each 
to go our own way ? " 

" I know we did, but I thought . . . well, if you are 
quite sure you don't mind." 

"Quite sure." There was a little pause. "Perhaps 
Mr. Dakers will go, too," she hazarded. 

"Yes, probably, I should think. I heard from him 
this morning." 

" And is he still away ? " 
. " Yes ; he asked if we had made any plans for the 
autumn." 

She noticed the little pronoun, and her heart warmed; 
she knew that Feathers at least — ^with all his contempt 
for women and marriage — would not leave her out of 
a 4pheme of things that concerned Qiris. 

She looked at her husband, and her throat ached with 
tears, which she had kept pent up in her heart for so 
long now. 

She was sure that Chris could always tell when she 
had been crying, and she was sure that it made him a 
little colder to her, a little less considerate. 

She loved Bim so much ! Even the little line between 
his brows, which was the result of his habit of frowning, 
was beautiful to her; she still thought him the hjind- 
somest man in the world. 

She would have loved to go to St. Andrews with him ; 
she knew Chris had been before for golf many times, 
and the very name conjured up visions of his old tweed 



118 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

coat and the thick low-heeled shoes he always wore when 
he played, and she wished with all her heart that she had 
the courage to ask him to take her. 

She had never been to Scotland, but the very mention 
of it seemed to speak of wide stretches of moorland 
and purple heather and the cool fresh mountain air. 

She moved restlessly, and Chris looked up. 

"Shall we go?" 

"Yes, I am ready." 

They went out into the street Marie knew now why 
he had brought her out this afternoon, why he had sug- 
gested that pearl necklace; it was a kind of offering in 
exchange for his freedom for the next few weeks. 

She supposed that most women would have acted dif- 
ferently; would have refused to be left at home — ^would 
have cried and made a scene; but the heart of Marie 
Celeste felt like a well from which all the tears have 
been drawn. 

Let him go! What use to try and keep 2iim an un- 
willing prisoner? 

She passed a sleepless night turning things over in 
her tired mind, trying to find a way out of the entangle- 
ment which seemed to grow with every passing day. 

Surely there must be some way out that was not too 
unhappy! Surely there must be women in the world 
sufficiently clever to do what hitherto she had failed 
to do! 

In the end she decided to write to Dorothy Webber. 
After all, they had been good friends, and it would be 
pleasant to see her again. She wrote the following morn- 
ing, and asked Dorothy to come to London. " Chris is 
going away," she wrote. " So I would love to have you 
for company. Shall we go to Wales or Ireland for a 
little trip?" 

She asked the question, parrot-like, in obedience to 
her husband's suggestion, not in the very least because 
she wished to leave London, or to visit any place. Wales 
or Ireland might have been Timbuctoo or Honolulu for 
all she cared. 

She tojid Miss Chester what she had done. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 119 

" I knew you would not mind, d^r," she added. 

Miss Chester was pleased, and said so. 

" I have often thought how well Chris and Dorothy 
would get on together," she said innocently. " They are 
very much alike in their love of sport." 

Marie bit her lip. 

" Chris is going away to Scotland," she said, "golfing 
with Aston Knight and Mr. Dakers." 

Miss Chester dropped her knitting. 

" Then, my dear child, pray go with him ! Mountain 
air is just what you want to put some color into those 
pale cheeks. If it is for my sake that you are staying 
I beg of you to go ; I will speak to Chris myself." 

Marie laughed nervously. 

"I don't want to go — I hate long railway journeys. 
You know I do. I would much rather stay here. Auntie, 
it's really the truth I " 

Miss Chester took a good deal of persuading, but 
finally gave in. " I don't like the idea of husband and 
wife being separated when there is no need for it," she 
said in a troubled voice, but Marie only laughed as she 
bent and kissed her. 

" You need not worry about that," she said. " Think 
how pleased we shall be to see him when he comes 
home." 

She waited anxiously for Dorothy's reply to her letter, 
which came two days later. 

"I should have loved to come," so she wrote, "but 
only the day before I got your letter I accepted another 
invitation, but if you will ask me again later on, Marie, 
I'll be there like a bird." 

Marie's first feeling was one of relief that Chris would 
not meet her, after all, but the next moment she was 
despising herself for the thought. How could she be so 
petty and jealous? And, besides, it would have been 
less lonely — ^Dorothy was always good company. 

She told Chris of Dorothy's letter, but he seemed un- 
impressed. 

" Well, I should ask her later on," he said casually. 

" Yes, I will. Have you fixed an3rthing up yet ? " 



120 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

» 

"Yes — at least, Knight is doing all the arranging. 
Feathers is coming along, and another man, and that 
boy Atkins wanted to butt in, but I shall choke him off. 
He's such a kid, and besides" — he looked at her with 
his little frown — " I've not forgotten that he nearly 
drowned you." 

"How absurd!" But the pleased color flew to her 
cheeks. Perhaps he had cared, after all, when he so 
nearly lost her. 

"And — when are you going?** she asked hesitatingly. 

Chris yawned. 

" At the end of the week, I think— Friday." 

Friday again I A little shiver of apprehension swept 
through Marie's heart. 



CHAPTER XI 

**You went away — 

The sun was warm — the world was gay; 
My heart was sad, because although 
I bade you stay you did not so! 
But went away . . ." 

CHRIS went on the Friday, and for days beforehand 
he was like a schoolboy going off for an unex- 
pected holiday. 

He packed his things long before they would be needed, 
and unpacked them again because he wanted to use them ; 
he took stacks of clothes and golf sticks and a brand-new 
fishing-rod, which he put together for Marie's benefit, 
showing her how perfectly it was made and telling her 
what sport he hoped to have with it. 

Marie tried to be enthusiastic and failed; once long 
ago she had stood on a river bank with Chris and watched 
him play a trout, finally landing the silvery thing on 
the grassy bank, where it lay and gasped in the burning 
sunshine before he mercifully killed it with a stone. 

She had hated the sport ever since — it had seemed 
so cruel, she thought. 

In a moment of bravado she had once dared to say so 
to him, and had never forgotten the stony look of dis- 
approval with which he regarded her. 

" Cruel ! " he echoed scathingly. " How In the world 
do you suppose fish are caught, then? You seem to like 
them for breakfast, anyway." 

She knew that was true enough, but to see them served 
up cooked and inanimate was one thing, and to see them 
dragged from the clear depths of a river to gasp life 
away on the bank quite another. 

Chris put the new rod away rather offendedly. 

"Of course, you don't care for sport," he said, " I 
forgot." 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

That hurt more than anything, especially as she knew 
that either Dorothy Webber or Mrs. Heriot would have 
thoroughly entered into a discussion with him upon the 
merits of bait and the various catches he had success- 
fully landed. 

Marie did her best during those last few days, but all 
her efforts went singularly unrewarded. 

Chris was too engrossed in his preparations to take 
much notice of her, though once he brought her the old 
tweed coat to have a button sewn on, and once he asked 
diffidently if she would mind marking some new hand- 
kerchiefs for him. 

Marie did both little services with passionate gratitude 
to him for having asked her. During the last day she 
followed him round the house lust as she had been wont 
to do when they were both children and he had come 
home for the holidays. 

She ran errands for him, and did all the odd jobs 
which he did not want to do for himself, and at the 
last, when his fattest portmanteau would not close, she 
sat on the top of it to try and coax it to behave. 

Chris was kneeling on the floor in his shirt sleeves, 
tugging at the straps and swearing tmder his breath. 
He looked up at her once to say what a pity it was she 
did not weigh more, but there was a smile in his eyes. 
" You're sudi a kid," he said affectionately. 

But he managed to fasten the bag at last, and stood 
up, hot and perspiring. 

"You've got my address, haven't you?" he asked, 
looking round his dismantled room. " Write if you want 
anything, and I'll send you some postcards. You've 
got plenty of money in the bank, and there's heaps more 
when that's |:one. Have a good time." 

" Yes," said Marie, and wondered if he would be very 
contemptuous if she told him that it felt like dying to 
know Uiat he was going away and that she was to be 
left behind. 

He had a last hurried lunch with her and Miss Chester, 
(during which he looked at his watch almost every minute, 
land hoped that the taxi would not foi^get to come. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 123 

"You could have had the car, Chris," Miss Chester 
said, but Chris replied that it was not worth while and 
that a taxi would do. 

He went out in the hall to have a last look at his lug- 
gage and make sure that nothing was forgotten, and 
Marie ran up to her room. 

She stood there with clenched hands and lips firmly 
set ; she was dreadfully afraid that she was going to cry 
and disgrace herself forever, and then what a memory 
Chris would have of her to carry away with him ! She 
heard the taxi come iip to the door, and the sound of the 
luggage being taken out, then Chris came running up- 
stairs calling to her. 

" Yes— here I am/' 

He came into the room in his overcoat; she had not 
seen him look so young or happy for weeks, and it gave 
her another pang to realize that he was quite pleased to 
be leaving her behind. 

** I'm just off," he said. He came up to her and put 
his arm round her waist " Take care of yourself, Marie 
Celeste." 

"Oh, yes." He turned her face upwards with a care- 
less hand and kissed her cheek. " FU send you a wire 
as soon as we get there." 

"Yes." She stood quite impassively beside him, and 
then as he would have moved away she suddenly turned 
and put her arms round his neck. 

" I hope you will have a very good time, Chris," she 
said, and for the first time since their marriage kissed 
him of her own accord. 

The hot color flew to Chris' face ; she had always been 
so cold and unemotional that this impulsive embrace em- 
barrassed him. 

For a moment he looked at her wonderingly, then he 
asked: 

" Why did you do that, Marie Celeste ? " 

She forced a little laugh. 

" Because you're going away, of course." 

**Oh, I see — well, good-by. 

"Good-by." But still he hesitated before he turned 



124 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

to the door, but she did not speak, and he went on and 
downstairs again. 

Marie went over to the window. There were tears in 
her eyes, but it did not matter now that Qiris had gone. 
She pulled the curtain aside and looked down into the 
street. 

What a heap of luggage he had titken! And she re- 
member how he had once said that he disliked traveling 
with a woman because she always took such quantities 
of baggage! 

Then Chris came out of the house and got into the 
taxi. He slanmied the door, and she heard him speak 
to the driver, and the next moment the taxicab had 
wheeled about and gone. 

She let the curtain fall and looked round the room. 
How quickly things happened! A moment ago and she 
had stood here with his arms about her, and now he had 
gone — for how long she did not know. 

When she had asked him he had answered vaguely 
that it all depended on the weather, but that he would 
let her know. 

" A fortnight ? '* she hazarded timidly, and he had an- 
swered, " About that, I expect" 

She went through the dividing door to his deserted 
room. It was all upside down as he had left it, and 
strewn with things he had discarded at the last moment. 

It almost seemed as if he had died and would never 
come back, she thought drearily, then tried to laugh. 

After all, there was nothing so strange in his going 
away for a holiday with his friends ; she knew she would 
not have minded at all had things been all right between 
them. It was just this dreadful feeling that, although 
she was his wife, she held no place in his life, that made 
trivialities a tragedy. She did not count — ^he could give 
her a careless kiss just as he had done years ago when 
he came home from Cambridge or went back again, and 
walk out of the house without a single regret. 

She wondered what Feathers thought about it all, and 
her heart warmed at the memory of him — kind, ugly 
Feathers 1 She wished she could see him agsdn. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 125 

She did her best to be cheerful during the days that 
followed, but it was uphill work. After the first tele- 
gram she heard but seldom from Chris. The weather 
was topping — so he wrote on a postcard, and they were 
having splendid golf. 

He never mentioned Feathers, or spoke of coming 
home, and it seemed to Marie as if he and she were in 
different worlds. 

That he could enjoy himself and be quite happy with- 
out her seemed an impossibility when she was so mis- 
erable and restless. 

Then one morning she ran across young Atkins in 
Regent Street. She would have passed him without rec- 
ognition but that he stopped and spoke her name. 

" Mrs. Lawless ! " He was unf eignedly delighted to 
see her. He insisted on her lunching with him. 

" Fve thought about you ever since we said good-by," 
he declared. " I've often longed to call, but did not like 
to." 

She laughed at his eagerness. 

"Why ever not? I gave you my address. I should 
have been awfully pleased to see you." 

*' Really ! It's topping of you to say so, but I don't 
think Chris would have been exactly tickled to death! 
He never forgave me for nearly drowning you, you 
know." 

*' Nonsense ! And, besides, you didn't nearly drown 
me. It was my own fault," she laughed suddenly. " You 
know I never gave you that promised box of cigarettes. 
Don't you remember that we had a bet of a box of 
chocolates against a box of cigarettes ? Well — ^you won." 

She was delighted to see him again ; he was very young 
and cheerful, and quite open in his adoration of her. 

Nobody had ever looked at Marie with quite such 
worshipful eyes, and though she knew it was just a boy's 
absurd fancy, she was grateful to him for it. 

They had a merry lunch' together, and afterwards 
Marie took him back to see Miss Chester. 

" I thought you were going to Scotland with Chris 
and Mr. Dakers," she said as they walked home. 



126 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" So I wanted to, but they didn't seem exactly keen, 
and besides — I don't care about Aston Knight, you know 
— awful ass, I think." 

" I don't think I like him very much, either," Marie 
admitted reluctantly. *' And anyway I'm glad you didn't 

go " She smiled into his beaming face. " Perhaps 

we could go to some theatres together." 

" Could we ? By jove, that would be ripping ! I say, 
it's an awful piece of luck running across you like this, 
you know." 

Miss Chester liked young Atkins. She thought him a 
very charming boy, she told Marie when, at last, he took 
a reluctant departure, arranging to call again next day, 

" He is a friend of Chris', you say?" 

" Yes — we met him when we were away." 

" A very nice boy — a thorough gentleman," Miss Ches- 
ter said complacently. " I hope he will call often." 

Marie laughed. 

" I am sure he will with the least encouragement/' 
she said. 

He had done her good, and she quite looked forward 
to seeing him again. She wrote to Chris that night and 
told him of their meeting. 

" It was quite by chance, but I was very pleased to see 
him, and we are going to a theater together to-morrow.*' 

She knew that all her letters to Chris were stiff and 
uninteresting, but she was in constant dread of letting 
him read between the lines and guess how unhappy she 
was. For his benefit she often manufactured stories of 
things she was supposed to have done and entertainments 
she had visited. 

He should not think she was moping or wanted him 
back. She would do without him if he could do without 
her. •• 

Young Atkins got tickets for the most absurd farce in 
town, and he and Marie laughed till they cried over it. 

Marie had only been to the theater half a dozen times 
in her life, and then always to performances of Shake- 
speare or some other classic. She told him quite frankly 
that she did not know yrhen she had enjoyad herself so 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 127 

much. They went on to Bond Street together afterwards 
and ate an enormous tea. 

Although she was reluctant to admit it to herself, 
Marie knew that she had enjoyed herself far more with 
young Atkins than she had done that afternoon with 
Qiris when he bought the pearls. She put up her hand 
with a little feeling of guilt to the necklace, which she 
was wearing. Young Atkins noticed the little gesture. 

" Are they real ? " he asked. 

" Yes, Chris gave them to me." 

" Mind you, don't lose them — ^they must be worth an 
awful lot. 

" They are, rather a lot.'* 

She assented listlessly, knowing that their vahie was 
nothing to her. 

He drew his chair a little nearer to hers. 

" When shall we go out together again ? " 

"When you like — I can go on Saturday if you care 
about it." 

He pulled a long face. 

" Saturday ! Why, that's another three days." 

** Well, we can't go every day," she protested, laughing. 
" Besides, don't you have to work ? " 

" Yes, I'm in the g^v'nor's office, but he's away to-day, 
so I took French leave." 

"What will he say?" 

" He won't know, and I don't care if he does; it's been 
worth it!" 

He was silent for a moment, then broke out again: 
" My guv'nor's an old pig, you know ; he's worth pots of 
money, but he won't do a thing for me. I hate an indoor 
job ; I wanted to go to sea, but no ! He drove me into 
his beastly office, and I loathe it." 

"What a shame!" 

" Yes." He laughed with his old lightheartedness. " I 
don't see why we're bound to have fathers," he sub- 
mitted comically. 

"Well — we'll go to another theater on Saturday," 
Marie consoled him. " Saturday is a half-day holiday 
for everybody, isn't it?" 



128 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" Yes— till Saturday, then." 

He wrung her hand so hard at parting that her fingers 
felt quite dead for some seconds afterwards, but she had 
really enjoyed herself, and looked after young Atkins 
gratefully as he strode oflF down the street. 

" There's a letter from Chris," Miss Chester said, as 
Marie entered the room. Her quick eyes noticed the color 
that rushed to her niece's cheeks. " Over there on the 
mantelshelf." 

Marie took the treasure upstairs to read. She sat down 
on the side of the bed and broke open the envelope with 
trembling hands. She had not heard from him now for 
three days ; she wondered if this was to say that he was 
coming home. 

" Dear Marie Celeste, — ^Hope you are well — I have had 
no letter from you since the end of last week. The 
weather has changed a bit up here, and we have had 
some rain. Feathers sent you a box of heather this 
morning ; I don't suppose you'll care much for it, but he 
insisted on sending it. By the way, a curious thing hap- 
pened yesterday. We were at the third hole, and there 
were some girls on the green in front of us. One of 
them had lost a ball and I found it, so we talked, and who 
do you think she turned out to be? Why, your friend, 
Dorothy Webber! It's a coincidence, isn't it? You 
never told me she was such a fine player. I've got a 
match with her this afternoon. She sent her love to 
you. I hope you are having a good time. I've got as 
brown as coffee since I came up here — ^being out-of-doors 
all day, I suppose. By the way, if you look in my room 
you'll find a box of new golf balls. You might send 
them up to me. I will write again soon. — Yours affec- 
tionately, Chris.*' 

So he had met Dorothy Webber after all. Marie 
Celeste's heart felt as cold as a stone as she sat there with 
Chris' scrappy letter in her hand. 

He was up there in Scotland, amongst the heather and 
the mountains, quite happy and contented, whilst she . . . 
Her eyes fell again to his hurried scribble. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 129 

** • . . Feathers sent you a box of heather this mom- 
ing . . . 

Kind, ugly Feathers! He, at least, had not forgotten 
her. 

During the days that followed Marie suffered tortures 
of jealousy. Her overstrained imagination exaggerated 
things cruelly. She began to sleep badly, and a defiant 
look grew in her brown eyes. She encouraged young 
Atkins so openly that at last even Miss Qiester was 
moved to remonstrate gently. 

" My dear, I am afraid that nice boy is getting a little 
too fond of you?" 

"Is he?" Marie laughed. "He's only a boy," she 
said carelessly. 

Miss Chester looked pained. 

" Boys have hearts as well as grown men," she said 
gently. 

" More, sometimes," Marie answered flippantly. 

But she knew that Miss Chester was right. She knew 
that lately there was a different light in young Atkins' 
eyes and a strange quality in his voice whenever he spoke 
to her. 

Sometimes she was sorry — sometimes she told herself 
that she did not care I Why should she be the only one 
to suffer? 

" He can't love me — really," she told herself fretfully, 
when conscience spoke more loudly than usual, reproach- 
ing her. " He has always known I am married — ^he 
would never be so silly as to fall in love with a married 
woman." Then she would shed bitter tears as she thought 
of the farce her marriage had been, and long with all 
her soul for someone to love her — ^not a boy, as young 
Atkins was, but a man to whom she could look up, a 
man who would see that the pathways ran as smoothly 
as possible for her tired feet. 

Often the temptation came to her to write and ask 
Chris to come home. He had been away three weeks now, 
and she knew that Miss Chester was wondering about 
it all and worrying silently. 

After all, she was his wife, and it was his duty to be 



130 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

with her ! So Marie argued sometimes, knowing all the 
time that she wotild rather die than ask anything of him 
which he would only grant tmwillingly. 

The big box of heather had arrived from Featfiers, 
and as Marie buried her face in it and closed her eyes 
she seemed to breathe the keen motmtain air that had 
swept it on the Scotch moors and feel the soft, springy 
turf beneath her feet. 

Oh, to be there with Chris! — ^to pass the long hours 
of the fading summer days with him and be happy ! 

She wrote a little note to Feathers and thanked him. 

" It was kind of you to think of me. I have never 
been to Scotland, but the smell of the heather seemed 
to show it to me as plainly as if I could really see it alL 
You have never found any white heather, I suppose? 
If you do, please send me a little piece for luck." 

She had no real belief in luck — it had long since passed 
her by, she was sure — ^but a day or so later a tiny parcel 
arrived containing a little bunch of white heather, smell- 
ing strongly of cigarettes — for a cigarette box had been 
the only one Feathers could find in which to pack it. 

He had got up with the dawn the day after her note 
reached him and searched the country for miles to find 
the thing for which she had asked him. 

Marie slept with it under her pillow and carried it in 
her frock by day ; a sort of shyness prevented her from 
showing it to Miss Chester, though once she asked her 
about it. 

" Aunt Madge, are you superstitious ? '* 

Miss Chester looked up and smiled. 

" I used to be years ago," she admitted. " I used to 
bow to every sweep I met and refuse to sit down thirteen 
at a table." 

" Is that all ? " Marie asked. ^ 

Miss Chester stifled a little sigh. 

'* Well, I once wore a piece of white heather round my 
neck night and day for two years," she said after a 
moment. "It was given to me by the man I should 
have married if he had lived. But the white heather 



« 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 131 

brought me no luck, for he was drowned at sea when he 
was on his way home for our wedding." 

Marie's face hardened a little. 
There is no such thing as luck/' she said. 
I know a better word for it/' Miss Chester answered 
gently. " I mean Fate. I think each one of us has his 
or her fate mapped out, and that it always happens for 
the best, though we may not think so." 

There was a little silence. 

" I wonder ! " Marie said sadly. 

But she still wore the white heather. 



CHAPTER XII 

"When two friends meet in adverse hour, 
Tis like a sunbeam through a shower, 
A watery ray an instant seen 
And darkly closing clouds between." 

MARIE was alone at home one afternoon when 
young Atkins called. 
It was Sunday, and Miss Chester had motored 
out into the country to see a friend who was sick. 

Perhaps young Atkins knew this, for, at any rate there 
was a look of determination about him as he walked 
into the drawing-room, where Marie was pretending to 
read and trying to prevent herself from writing to Chris. 

A moment ago she had been feeling desperately lonely, 
and longing for someone to come in, but a queer sort 
of fear came to her as she looked into young Atkins' 
eyes. 

He was rather pale, and this afternoon the boyishness 
seemed to have been wiped out of his face by an older, 
graver look. 

"Won't you have some tea?" she asked him. "I've 
had mine, but we will soon get some more for you." 

No, he would not have tea. He sat down only to get 
up again immediately and walk restlessly about the room. 

Marie watched him nervously. 

"Shall we go for a walk?" she asked with sudden 
inspiration. " I have not been out all day. Do let us 
go for a walk." 

He hardly seemed to hear. He had taken up a cig- 
arette case belonging to Chris, and was openmg and 
shutting it with nervous aimlessness. 

Suddenly he asked abruptly: 

"When is Chris coming home?" 

Marie caught her breath sharply. 

132 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 133 

" I was never good at riddles," she said in a hard 
voice. 

There was a moment's silence, then he flung the cig- 
arette case down, and, turning, came over to where she 
stood and caught her in his arms — such strong young 
arms they were, which there was no resisting. 

" I love you," he said desperately. " I think I've al- 
ways loved you, and I can't bear it any longer. If Chris 
doesn't care for you, what did he want to marry you 
for? It was cheating some other poor devil out of 
Paradise. . • . Marie — I know you think I'm only a boy, 
but I'd die for you this minute if it would make you 
happy ; I'd . . . oh, my darling, don't cry." 

Marie had made no attempt to free herself from his 
clasp. She was standing in the circle of his arms, her 
head averted, and the big tears running slowly down 
her cheeks. 

She put up her hand to brush them away when she 
heard the distress in his voice. 

" I'm all right — oh, please, if you wouldn't ! " for he 
had caught her hand and was kissing it passionately. 

He went on pleading, praying, imploring, in his boy's 
voice; for he was very sincere, and he had suffered more 
for her sake and the neglect which he knew she was 
receiving from Chris than from the hopelessness of his 
own cause. 

He would make her so happy, he said; they would 
go away together abroad somewhere. He hadn't got any 
money — at least, only a little — ^but he'd work like the 
very deuce if he had her to work for. 

She put her hand over his lips then to silence him. 

"Tommy, dear, don't!" 

His name was not Tommy, but everybody had called 
him Tommy for so long because it seemed to go naturally 
with his surname that now he had almost forgotten what 
he had really been christened, but it sounded sweet from 
Marie's lips, and he kissed passionately the little hand 
that would have silenced his pleading. 

" I love you — I love you ! " he said again. 

She shook her head. She knew that she ought to have 



134 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

been angry with him, but there was something very com- 
forting to her sore heart in this boy's love. 

" It's no good. Tommy," she said gently, " and you 
know it isn't. Even if I cared for you — ^and I don't, 
not in that way — ^you're so young, and . . . and I'm mar- 
ried • . ." And then, with a very real burst of emotion, 
she added : " We were such good friends, and now 
you've gone and spoilt it all." 

" I couldn't help it — it had to come — ^and I'm glad. 
I've never felt like a friend to you. I thought you knew 
it, but if you want me to I'll go on being your friend 
all my life," he added inconsequently. 

Her tears came again at that, and Tommy got out 
his handkerchief — a nice, soft silk one whidi he had 
faintly scented for the occasion — ^and wiped her eyes for 
her, and reproached himself, and comforted her all in 
a breath, till she looked up and smiled again. 

" And now we've been thoroughly foolish," she said 
with a little sob, " please be a dear, and take me for a 
walk." 

" It hasn't been foolishness," he answered, with a new 
manliness that surprised her and made her feel a little 
ashamed. " I love you, and I shall always love you, 
but if you only want me for a friend — well, that's all 
there is to be said." 

She took his hand and held it hard for a moment. 

" You're a kind boy. Tommy." 

He looked away from her because he was afraid to 
trust himself. "What about that walk? "Tie asked 
gruffly. 

They went for the walk — ^a very silent walk It was, 
for neither of them felt inclined to talk, and later, when 
they parted outside the house, young Atkins asked 
anxiously : 

"It's all right, isn't it? I mean — everything is just 
the same as it was before . . . before I told you ? " 

" Yes — of course." But she knew that it was not, that 
it never could be, though during the next day or two 
they both struggled valiantly to get back to the old happy 
plane oi friendship. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 135 

And one evening Tommy said abruptly as they were 
driving home together from a theater: 

" Marie — I'm not coming any more," and then, as she 
did not answer, he went on desperately : " I just — 
can't!" 

Marie sat quite still, her hands clasped in her lap, her 
brown eyes fixed on a little pale moon that was climbing 
the dark sky outside. 

She had thought a great deal of this boy's friendship 
and now she knew that she was to lose it. 

She tried to think of Chris, but somehow it seemed 
difficult ; it was so long since she had seen him, and he 
was so far away. 

If only she did not still love him ! If only she could 
fill the place he had occupied all these years of her life 
with something else — even someone else. 

Then she looked at young Atkins. He was only a 
boy ! Young as she was herself, she felt years and years 
older than he, and there was something motherly in her 
voice as she said gently : 

" Very well. Tommy — I understand." 

He laughed hoarsely. 

" Do you ? I don't think you do," he said. 

They parted with just an ordinary handshake, and with 
no more words, but Marie stood tor a long time at the 
door after it had been opened to her, watching young 
Atkins walk away down the street. 

He was going out of her life, she knew, and for a 
moment she was cruelly tempted to recall him. 

Why not? Chris had his own friends, and did not 
trouble about her. She wondered what he was doing 
now, and if he, too, was somewhere out in the moon- 
light with . . . with somebody who was more to him 
than she was. 

The thought brought a tide of jealousy rushing to her 
heart. She ran down the steps again to the path below. 
She would call Tommy back. Why should she have no 
happiness? Boy as he was, he loved her, and his love 
would be something snatched from the ruins of her life. 

But after the first impulsive step she stood still with 



136 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

a sense of utter futility. What was the good? What 
was the use of trying to deceive herself? 

There was only one man in the world for her — ^nothing 
could ever change that; she turned and went back into 
the house. . • • 

" Tommy isn't coming any more/' she told Miss Ches- 
ter the next morning. 

She smiled as her eyes met the old lady's. 

" No, I didn't send him away, dear," she added. " He 
just said he shouldn't come any more." 

Miss Chester paused for a moment in her knitting. 
She was always knitting — a shawl that never seemed to 
be finished. 

"I always said he was a thorough gentleman," was 
her only comment. 

But Marie missed him during the days that followed. 
She had no scrap of love for him, but his friendship had 
meant a great deal to her, and left to herself she drifted 
back once again to restless depression. 

Then at last a letter came from Chris. 

" Knight is going back to London, so I may come with' 
him. I hope you are all right, Marie Celeste. The time 
has simply flown up here; I was horrified yesterday to 
discover that I've been away a month." 

There was no mention of Dorothy Webbei; or of 
Feathers. 

Marie's spirits rose like mercury. She was so excited 
she could hardly sleep or eat, but all the time she tried 
to check her joy with the warning that he might not 
come, that he might change his mind at the last moment. 
She bought herself some new frocks and went to bed 
early to try and drive the shadows from her eyes and 
bring back the color to her pale cheeks. 

Then came a postcard — a picture postcard of moun- 
tains in the background and a very modem-looking club- 
house in the foreground, with a scribbled message from 
Chris at the comer. 

" Shall be home Thursday night to dinner." 

The day after to-morrow ! Marie's heart fluttered into 
her throat as she read the words; she was afraid to go 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 137 

and tell Miss Chester because she knew the wild happi- 
ness and excitement in her eyes. The day after to-mor- 
row 1 What an eternity it would seem. She did not know 
how she could live through the hours. 

She forgave him all his neglect and indifference; he 
was coming home — she would see him again and hear 
his voice. Nothing else mattered. 

And then, just an hour later, came a telegram. She 
opened it with trembling hands. She was sure it was to 
say that he was coming sooner. For a moment the 
scribbled message danced before her eyes: 

** Plans altered ; don't expect me. Letter follows." 

She dismissed the waiting maid mechanically, and read 
the message again. She was glad that she had not told 
Atmt Madge after all — it would have been such a dis- 
appointment. She screwed the telegram up and threw 
it into the grate. 

For the moment she hated him — she wished passion- 
ately that she could make him suffer. She had sacrificed 
everything by her marriage with him — ^all hope of real 
happiness and a man's genuine love — even her friendship 
with young Atkins; while he — ^what difference had that 
mock ceremony made to Chris? 

And the old despair came leaping back. 

" I wish I could die ! I wish they had let me drown." 

Someone tapped at the door, and with an effort she 
pulled herself together to answer. 

"Yes, what is it?" 

"Mr. Dakers has called, if you please, ma'am." 

" Feathers ! " In her delight at seeing Dakers again 
Marie never knew that she had called him by his nick- 
name. She ran across the room, her cheeks like roses 
and both hands outstretched. 

"Oh, how nice! When did you come? Oh, I am 
glad to see you ! " 

He was just as ugly as she had remembered him — ^just 
as ungainly — ^and his skin more deeply tanned affid inore 
rugged than ever, but the grip of his hand was wonder* 
ful in its strength, and his gruff voice when he spoke 



138 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

sent her heart fluttering into her throat with sheer de- 
light. 

*' Oh, I am so glad to see you again I '' she said once 
more. 

Feathers laughed. 

" It's the best wdcome I've ever had in my life," he 
said. 

He let her hands go and stood back a pace. " Have 
you grown?" he asked, in a puzzled sort of way. 

She shook her head. 

" No ; but I've got thin — at least, Aunt Madge says I 
have." 

They looked at one another silently for a moment, 
and the thought of Chris was in both their minds, though 
it was Feathers who spoke of him. 

" So Chris will be home on Thursday ? " 

She shook her head ; for a moment she could not trust 
her voice. Then she said lightly: 

" He's not coming after all. I've just this minute 
had a wire." She went over to the grate, picked up the 
crumpled telegram and handed it to him. " It's just 
come/' she said again faintly. 

Feathers read it without comment, and Marie rushed 
on: 

" I suppose you've all had such a good time you don't 
want to come back to smoky old London — is that it ? " 

" We did have a good time, certainly, but I came back 
on Monday, and I understood that Knight and Chris were 
following on Thursday." 

" Yes." 

Feathers dragged up a chair and sat down. 

"And what have you been doing?" he asked. 

She shrugged her shoulders. 

" I don't fciow ; nothing very much. I went to one 
or two theaters with Mr. Atkins " 

" Atkins ! " 

*' Yes. Why not? I like him; he's such a nice boy." 

^' Nice enough," Feathers admitted grudgingly. 

"I shall expect you to take me now you've come 
home," Marie went on, hardly knowing what she was 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 139 

saying. " I'm so tired of being a grass widow/' she 
added desperately. 

She was longing to ask about Chris, what he was 
doing and who was up there with him, but she was 
afraid. 

" I'm not keen on theaters," Feathers sSud slowly- 
*' But I shall be deUghted to take you if you would care 
for it." 

" Of course ! '* There was a burning flush in her 
cheeks that made her look as if she were feverish, and 
her voice was shrill and excited as she went on : "I 
think this must be one of the occasions when I want a 
big brother, and — oh, you did offer, you know!" she 
added forlornly. 

Feathers looked up quickly and smiled. 

"Well, here I am," he said. 

Miss Chester came into the room at that moment She 
knew Feathers well ; Chris had brought him to the house 
several times before, it appeared, when Marie was still 
at school in France^ and she was not slow in demanding 



news. 



When is Chris coming home? Why didn't you bring 
him with you, Mr. Dakers? He has been away quite 
long enough; he ought to come home and look after his 
wife " 

" Oh, Auntie I " Marie cried, distressed. 

" So he ought to, my dear," the old lady insisted. 
"You want a change of air yourself. Isn't she pale, 
Mr. Dakers?" 

Feathers glanced quickly at Marie and away again. 

"1 think Chris will be home soon," he said quietly. 
" I am afraid golf is a very selfish game. Miss Chester." 

"And DoroSiy Webber — ^is she stfll up there?" Miss 
Chester asked presently. 

Marie held her breath ; it was the .question she had 
longed and dreaded to ask. 

" She was there when I left," Feathers said reluctantly. 
" She is a very fine golfer." 

Marie broke in in a high-pitched voice: 

** I asked her to come and stay with me, you know, but 



140 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 



she had already accepted this invitation to Scotland. 
Wasn't it queer the way Chris met her? " 

" Very queer." 

" I was at school with her ; she was my best friend." 

" Yes, so she told me, but I knew already — from you." 

Marie's too-bright eyes met his. 

" And do you lUce her ? " she asked. " I said I thought 
you would, if you remember, and you were not sure." 

He raised his shaggy brows. 

"Like her? Well — I hardly know. She's good com- 
pany." 

Good company — the very thing that Marie had dreaded 
to hear. 

"I'm not very fond of sporting women," Feathers 
went on. " They're so restless. Don't you agree, Miss 
Chester?" 

" They were certainly unheard of when I was a girl," 
she answered severely. " We never wore short skirts 
and played strenuous games. I think croquet was the 
fashion when I was Marie's age ! I can remember play- 
ing in a private tournament with your mother, Marie." 

Marie bent and kissed her, laughing. 

" That is where I get my stay-at-home, early Victorian 
instincts from, perhaps," she said rather bitterly. 

She went into the hall with Feathers when he left. 

" It was so kind of you to send me that white heather," 
she told him, shyly. " I always wear a piece of it for 
luck." 

A dull flush deepened the bronze of his ugly face. 

" I hope it will live up to its reputation," he said. He 
held out his hand. "When may I see you again? I 
am staying in London for a wedc or so, and I haven't 
anything particular to do." 

" Any time — I shall be so glad to see you. Will to- 
morrow be too soon ? " She made the suggestion diffi- 
dently. Chris' indifference had made her apprehensive 
and uncertain of herself. She was terribly afraid of 
forcing her company where it was not wanted. 

"To-morrow by all means!" he answered readily, 
" Shall we have a day in the country? " 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 141 

" Oh, how lovely ! " Her eyes lit up with delight. 

" I'll bring my car/' he said. " It's a bit of a bone- 
shaker, not a first-class affair like yours^ Mrs. Lawless, 
but it runs well. What time?" 

" Any time ; as early as you like/' 

"Ten o'clock then?" 

" Yes." 

" Good-night." 

"Good-night, Mr. Dakers," 



CHAPTER XIII 

** I was a sailor, sailing on sweet seas, 
Trading in singing birds and humming bees. 
But now I sail no more before the breeze. 
You were a pirate met me on the sea; 
You spoke, with life behind you, suddenly; 
You stepped upon my ship, and spoke to me: 
And while you took my hand and kissed my lips, 
Yot^ sank my ships, you sank my sailing ships." 

MARIE sang a little snatch of song as she went 
back to Miss Chester; she had not felt so light- 
hearted for many a day. 

" I'm going into the country with Mr. Dakers to-mor- 
row/' she said. " Think of it — a whole day in the coun- 
try I Won't it be lovely ? " 

Miss Chester looked up with shrewd eyes. 

" You talk as if you have never had the opportunity 
before," she said. " The car is always here — you might 
spend all your time in the country if you chose, Marie." 

" I know — I suppose it never occurred to me." 

Miss Chester knitted a row without speaking, then she 
said gently: 

" Dear child, do you think Chris would be quite pleased 
if he knew you were running about London with his 
friends like this ? " 

Marie swung round as if she had been struck. 

" What do you mean. Aunt Madge ? " Her voice was 
defiant, but the old lady went on insistently without 
raising her eyes: 

" I know things have progressed since I was a girl, 
but if I were a man I should not care for my wife to 
have men friends, as you seem to have." 

" Chris does not care," said Marie, and she laughed. 

142 



j 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 14a^ 



"I suppose you are still thinking about Mr. Atkins, 
Aunt Madge. He was only a boy." 

" Do you call Mr. Dakers a boy, too ? " Miss Chester 
asked quietly. 

"Of course not." Marie frowned; then all at once 
she broke into a laugh of sheer amusement. "Aunt 
Madge, you're not suggesting that Mr. Dakers, too, is 
fond of me? Why, don't you know that he hates 
women?" 

Miss Chester stooped for her ball of wool, which had 
•fallen to the floor. " As a rule, Marie, men are rather 
selfish, and I cannot imagine a man going out of his 
way to take any woman whom he hated for a day in the 
country." 

Marie laughed again. 

"Oh, don't be silly, dear ! " she protested. 

She went behind Miss Chester's diair and clasped her 
arms loosely round the old lady's neck, standing so that 
she could not be seen. 

" I've only ever loved one man," she said in a hard 
voice. " And you know who that is, don't you ? " 

Miss Chester put her wrinkled hand over Marie's. 

" My old eyes see a great many things I am supposed 
to be unable to see," she said sadly. 

There was a little silence; then Marie whispered: 

" Yes— I knew that." 

" And so that is why I say be careful, dear child," the 
old lady went on. " But I know you will." 

Marie bent and kissed her. 

" Poor Mr. Dakers ! " she said, with a little grimace. 
" He would run away forever and ever if he could hear 
what we have been saying." 

Miss Chester did not answer. 

Marie slept dreamlessly that night, and for the first 
time since her marriage woke with the feeling that there 
was something pleasant to look forward to. 

The sun was shining and there was not a cloud in the 
sky as she flung the window wide. 

Across the rows of houses and crowded chimney-pots 
she seemed to hear the voice of the cotmtry calling to 



% 



144 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

her — seemed to hear the wind in the trees and smell the 
magic of the hay. 

" And they will be making the hay/' she told herself 
delightedly, as she waited for Feathers to come. '' I 
wonder if they will let us help ! '' 

She had almost forgotten that there might be a letter 
from Chris that morning. It gave her a little shock to see 
it lying on the breakfast-table. It was as if for a space 
she had forgotten how to suffer and grieve, and now 
the sight of his handwriting had dragged her back to it 
once again. 

Chris had written in a tearing hurry — or so he said. 
He had packed up to come home, and then a friend of his 
had asked him to play in a golf tournament, and after a 
lot of persuasion he had given in, and he was going to 
play with Dorothy Webber for a partner, so he thought 
they stood a good chance of carrying off a prize. 

Marie read it apathetically. Her heart felt as hard as 
a stone. The letter told her nothing she had not already 
guessed. She crushed it into her coat pocket and tried 
to forget it 

He had put the importance of a stupid golf handicap 
before her ! Well, if she cried herself blind it would not 
alter things or change him. 

" I suppose Mrs. Heriot didn't turn up in Scotland," 
she said cynically to Feathers as they drove away. 

He kept his eyes steadily before him as he answered : 

" If she did I did not see her." 

Marie laughed hysterically. 

" I thought you might have done so." 

There was a little silence, then Feathers said quietly: 

" Mrs. Lawless, why do you talk like that ? You 
know quite well you never thought anything of the 
sort." 

She flushed hotly at the rebuke in his words and 
answefisd sharply: 

" I forgot that you were Chris' friend. Of course, 
you are bound to defend him. I wonder why men always 
defend one another?" 

Feathers smiled rather grimly. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 145 

"Perhaps it's a case of thieves hanging together," 
he said. "But you do him an injustice if you think 
that women have the least attraction for him — ^you do, 
indeed I And, as to being his friend . . /' he hesita- 
ted, " I think, perhaps, I am more your friend than his." 

" And yet you hated it when he married me," she said 
impulsively. 

" Perhaps I am still unreconciled to that," he said. 

" What do you mean ? " 

He looked down at her from beneath his shaggy brows. 
" I am going to answer that question by asking another. 
Why did you take such a violent dislike to me the first 
night we met?" 

The color rushed to her face. The memory of that 
night was still bitter and unforgettable. Her first im- 
pulse was to refuse to tell him. Then suddenly she 
changed her mind. 

Why should she spare Chris, or try any longer to de- 
fend him when he was undefendable? 

" You said that you would tell me some day," Feathers 
reminded her. 

" I know." But it was some minutes before she told 
him. 

" I was sitting in the lounge that night after dinner, 
and heard you telling someone that Chris had only 
married me for my money." 

The driving-wheel jerked furiously beneath Feathers' 
hand, and for an instant the car swerved dangerously. 
Then he jammed the brakes home and brought it to a 
standstill at the roadside. 

They were in the country now, with hedge-topped 
banks on either side, and it was all so still and silent 
that they might have been the only two in the world. 

Feathers half-turned in his seat. His face was white 
and horrified, and for a moment he stared at her, his 
lips twitching as if he were trying to speak and could 
find no words. 

Marie looked at him with misty eyes, and, seeing 
the pain and shame in his face, laid her hand gently 
on his arm. 



146 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 



" Please don't look like that. It hurt at first, but 
afterwards I was glad that I knew — really glad ! " 

** No wonder you hated me." 

"That was because I did not know you," she said 
quickly. " I don't hate you now, do I ? " 

He looked away from her. 

" So it's all my fault," he said harshly. 

She echoed his words: 

"All your fault? What do you mean?" 

" That you and Chris are not happy ..." 

Her face quivered sensitively, then she said very 
gently • 

"You mustn't think that — ^please! All you did was 
to let me know a little sooner than I should have done 
if I hadn't overheard what you said. And Vm glad, 
really glad, about it now ! It would have hurt much 
more if I'd not found out for some time afterwards. 
You see" — she paused a moment to steady her voice 
— "you see, Chris never really loved me, and that's all 
about it." 

No wonder you hate me," he said again heavily. 
I don't hate you — ^in fact, I should like to tell you 
something, Mr. Dakers, then perhaps you won't feel so 
badly about it. May I?" 

"Well?" The monosyllable came gruffly. 

" It's just that the one good thing that has happened 
to me since — since I married Chris — is having met you ! 
I shall always be glad of that, no matter what happens, 
for you've been such a kind friend. Please believe me." 

Dakers looked down at the hand resting on his arm. 

"Do you believe in friendship between a man and 
woman, Mrs. Lawless?" he asked, in a queer voice. 

" Oh, yes ! " said Marie, fervently. " Don't you ? " 

** I am not sure." 

She looked up in dismay. 

"But you said — I thought you said ..." 

He broke in abruptly. 

"Look at the view on your left" She turned her 
head obediently and gave a little exclamation of delight. 
The high hedge had suddenly ended, leaving only a wide 



41 



tf 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 147 

expanse of meadows tliat sloped down to a river flowing 
at the bottom of a high wooded hill. 

Some women in picturesque cotton frocks were tossing 
the hay in one of the meadows, and the scent of it was 
wafted through the sunshine. 

Marie clasped her hands like a delighted child. 

" I did so hope we should see them making hay, 
she said. " Oh, do you think we might go and help ? 

She had forgotten their previous serious conversation, 
to Feathers' iiSnite relief. He laughed as he answered 
that he did not think they could very well suggest giving 
any assistance. 

" I want to take you much further, too," he said. 
" I know an inn where we can get a lunch fit for a king, 
and any amount of cream and things like that." 

" I love cream," said Marie. 

She leaned back beside him contentedly, and fell into 
a day dream. The easy droning of the engine was very 
soothing, and the soft air on her face seemed to blow 
away all the cobwebs and perplexities that had worried 
her during the past two montiis. For a little time she 
gave herself up to the restfulness of it all and the simple 
enjo)mient. 

Feathers let her alone. He was not a talkative man, 
and he only spoke now and again to point out some 
exquisite bit of scenery or tell her something of the 
surrounding country. 

"You know it well, then?" she asked, and he said 
that he and Chris had often motored that way togeUier. 

Her husband's name gave Marie a stab of pain. For 
a little while she had resolutely pushed him into the 
background of her thoughts. She sat up when Feathers 
spoke of him, and the look of quiet contentment faded 
from her eyes. 

What was Chris doing now? And why was he not 
here beside her instead of this man? Then she looked 
at Feathers' kind, ugly face and remorse smote her. 

He was such a good friend. She knew she ought to 
1>e g^rateful to him for the unobtrusive help he had tried 
to give her. 



148 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 



But she could not resist one question : " You and 
Chris used to go about together a great deal ? " 

" Yes ; nearly always." 

" And now — I suppose I have spoilt it all. Have I ? " 

Feathers' face hardened. " I wish I could be sure 
that you had," was the answer that rose to his lips, 
but he checked it, and only said : 

" I have told you you must not talk nonsense." He 
pointed ahead. 

" That is the inn. I hope you are hungry." 

He ran the car into a queer, cobble-stoned yard, and 
drew up at the door of the inn. 

It was a very old house, with sloping roofs, on which 
lichen g^ew in short, thick clumps, and a straggly vine 
covered its weather-beaten face. 

" I wired we were coming," Feathers said. " The 
people here know me." 

He led the way into the parlor. It was bare-boarded 
with a trestle table running its full length, and wooden 
benches on either side, but everything was spotlessly 
clean, and Marie was delighted. 

She had never seen an old fireplace with chimney 
comers like the one in this room. She had never seen 
such wonderful copper as the old shining pots and pans 
that hung on the walls. 

The landlady was stout and smiling, with a face that 
shone with a generous application of soap, and she wore 
long amber earrings. 
, She seemed very pleased to see Feathers. 

" It's a long time since you came to visit us, sir ! 
And the other gentleman — Mr. Lawless — I hope he 
is well." 

" I've just left him in Scotland," Feathers explained. 
" I dare say you will see him before long. He's been 
getting married, you know." 

** Indeed, sir ! I'm sure I wish him luck." She looked 
at Marie, and Feathers said hastily : " This is Mrs. Law- 
less." 

He had a vivid recollection of another occasion when 






A BACHELOR HUSBAND 149 

somebody had asked if he were Marie's husband, and he 
was not risking a repetition of it. 

Many people staying here, Mrs. Costin?" he asked. 
No, sir — only two ladies at present, but we expect 
to be full for the week-end." She looked at Marie. 
" There are fine golf links close to us," she explained. 

" I seem to be hopelessly out of fashion because I 
don't play golf," Marie said when she and Feathers were 
alone again. " I think I am beginning to hate the very 
name of it." 

" You must let me teach you to play." 

Marie sighed and looked out of the window to the 
narrow country road. " I think I'm too tired to learn 
anything," she said despondently. 

Feathers frowned; he thought she looked very frail, 
and in spite of his words he could not picture her swing- 
ing a club and ploughing through all weathers as Dorothy 
Webber had done in Scotland. 

" You've no right to be tired," he said angrily. "A 
child like you ! " 

She looked up, the ready tears coming to her eyes. 

" Do you think I'm such a child ? " she asked. "That's 
what Chris always says — a kid, he calls me! And yet 
I don't feel so very young, you know." 

" I should like to be as young," Feathers said. 

She leaned her elbow on the table and her chin in her 
hand. 

" How old are you ? " she asked. 

" Thirty-eight next birthday — as you insist." 

She did not seem surprised. 

" I wonder what I shall be like when I'm thirty-eight? " 
she hazarded. 

Feathers did not answer ; he was doing a rapid calcu- 
lation in his mind ; he knew that she, nineteen now, was 
nineteen years his junior. That meant that when she was 
thirty-six he would be fifty-five ! 

His mouth twisted into a grim smile. Life was a 
queer thing. He wondered what he would have said had 
anyone told him three months ago that he would be 
lunching here with Christopher's wife — quite contentedly. 



\ 



150 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

There were voices in the cobble-stoned yard outside, 
and Marie looked towards the window. 

" Two people coming in," she said. " I suppose that's 
who the other places are laid for." She indicated the 
further end of the table. 

" The two people Mrs. Costin mentioned, I suppose," 
Feathers said. " Won't you have some more cream ? 
I always think ..." he broke off as the door opened 
and Mrs. Heriot walked into the room. 

There was a moment of blank surprise, then he rose 
to his feet. 

" The world is a small place ; how do you do ? " he 
said calmly. 

Mrs. Heriot found her voice, of which sheer astonish- 
ment had robbed her ; she broke out volubly. 

" Mr. Dakers, of all people ! And Mrs. Lawless too ! 
Who on earth would have dreamed of meeting you 
here ? That must be your car in the yard ! " 

She shook hands with Marie. " The world is a small 
place, isn't it?" 

" Are you staying here ? " Marie asked. She did not 
care in the least, but it was something to say. 

" Yes — with my sister. It's dull, but at week-ends 
we have quite a good time. You must come down, 
she added, turning to Feathers. " And how is Chris ? 

"I left him in Scotland — ^golfing," Feathers said. 
" He is coming up to town this week." 

" Really ! How delightful ! Bring him down, and 
we'll have a foursome. You don't play, do you, Mrs. 
Lawless? What a pity! Don't you care for the game?" 

" I've never played." 

" Well, you must begin. Get Mr. Dakers to teach 
you." She turned as her sister entered. "Lena, I've 
just run into two friends. Isn't it queer? May I 
introduce my sister, Mrs. Rendle — Mrs. Lawless, and 
Mr. Dakers." 

Mrs. Rendle looked Marie up and down critically and 
nodded. She was very like her sister, only older and 
less smart. 

" You've just finished lunch, I see," Mrs. Heriot said. 



9f 

f 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 151 



ti 



What a pity! We might have all had it together." 
We're not staying — we're going on," Feathers said 
hurriedly. " I'm taking Mrs. Lawless down to see some 
friends at Wendover." 

"Really! How perfectly delightful!" She drew 
Feathers a little away from her sister and Marie. " Has 
she been ill again ? " she asked, with assumed concern. 
" I never saw anyone age as she has." 

"Really!" Feathers looked at her stonily. "Mrs. 
Lawless looks just the same to me." He had always 
hated Mrs. Heriot and he hated her now more than ever. 
He made some pretext and went out to the car. 

" Be sure to tell Chris that we are here," Mrs. Heriot 
said to Marie. " It's a nine hole course, but quite 
good ! Send him down for a week-end." 

" I won't forget," Marie promised. 

She was thankful when Feathers came to say it was 
time to start. She gave a little sigh of relief as they 
drove away. 

Feathers glanced down at her sympathetically. 

" Cat ! " he said eloquently. 
I am afraid I do rather hate her," Marie faltered. 
The sister is a give-away," Feathers said. " One can 
see now what Mrs. Heriot will be like in another ten 
years." 

Marie could not help laughing. 

" Oh, but how unkind ! " she said. A little mischievous 
sparkle lit her brown eyes. " And we're not really going 
to see any friends at Wendover, are we ? " 

"No," he laughed with her. "I'd tell that woman 
anything," he said, with a sort of savagery. 

They stopped again for tea at a cottage, and the woman 
who owned it gave Marie a big bunch of flowers to carry 
away. 

" Now I really took as if I've been for a day in the 
country," she said laughingly to Feathers. "People 
always trail home with bunches of flowers, don't they?" 

" I suppose they do." He touched the bunch lying in 
her lap. " May I have one? " 






152 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

•* 01 course ! " She picked them up quickly. " Which 
0ne?" 

He indicated a blue flower. 

" Don't you think that would rather suit my style of 
beauty?" he asked grimly. 

She drew it from the bunch. 

" It's called * love-in-a-mist/ " she said. " Shall I put 
it in your coat ? " 

" Please." 

He had been starting the engine, and he came to the 
door of the car and stooped for her to fasten the flower 
in his button-hole. 

Will that do?" she asked. 

Thank you." He got in beside her and they drove on. 

" Which way shall we go home ? " he asked. 

" And way — I don't mind. I don't know the roads, but 
I should like to pass those hayfields again." 

" Very well. You're not cold, are you ? " 

" Oh, no." 

" K you are, there is my coat." 

It was getting dusk rapidly, the moon stood out like 
a golden sickle against the darkening sky, and there was 
a faint breath of autumn in the air. 

Marie drew the rug more closely about her. She felt 
gloriously sleepy, and the scent of the big bunch of flow- 
ers on her lap was almost like an anaesthetic with its in- 
toxicating mixture of perfimie. 

When they came to the hayfields which they had passed 
early in the morning Feathers stopped the car and spoke : 

" Are you asleep ? You are so quiet." 

" No ; I was just thinking." 

She sat up and looked at the view, more beautiful 
now in the subdued light and shadow of evening. 

The world seemed filled with the scent of the warm 
hay, and once again, with a swift pang, her thoughts flew 
to Chris. 

Where was he ? Oh, where was he ? Her heart seemed 
to stretch out to him with a great cry of longing, but 
her little face was quiet enough when presently she looked 
up at Feathers. 






A BACHELOR HUSBAND 153 

" Shall we go on now ? " 

He drove on silently. 

" It's been such a lovely day," Marie said. " I have 
enjoyed it. Thank you so much for bringing me." 

" That's like a little girl coming home from a party," 
Feathers said. " We can have another run out any time 
you like." 

" It's been perfectly lovely ! I was so tired when we 
started, but it's been a beautiful rest, and I'm not tired 
any more." 

But, all the same, when next he spoke to her she did 
not answer, and, looking v quickly down at her, he saw 
that she was asleep. 

Her head had drooped forward uncomfortably, and he 
could see the dark lashes down-pointed on her cheek. 

He slowed down a little, and slipping an arm behind 
her, and drew her gently back until her head rested 
against his shoulder. 

Mrs. Heriot had said that Marie looked years older, 
and in his heart Feathers knew she was right, but the 
kindly hand of sleep seemed to have wiped the lines and 
shadows from her face, and it was just a child who 
rested there against his shoulder. 

What was to become of her, he asked himself wretched- 
ly, and what was to be the end of this mistaken marriage ? 

He could almost find it in his heart to hate Chris as he 
drove grimly on through the gathering night, with the 
slight pressure of Marie's head on his shoulder. 

Only nineteen ! Only a child still ! And a passionate 
longing to shield her and secure her happiness rose in his 
heart. He had led a queer life, a selfish life, he supposed, 
pleasing himself and going his own way in very much the 
same fashion as Chris Lawless had always done and was 
still doing, but then he had had no woman to love him or 
to love — until now, and now . . . Feathers looked down 
at the delicate little face that lay like a white flower 
against his rough coat in the moonlight, and he knew with 
a grim pain that yet was almost welcome to his queer na- 
ture that he would give everything in the world if only 
her happiness could be assured. 



CHAPTER XrV 

" And I remember that I sat me down 
Upon the slope with her, and thought the world 
Must be all over, or had never been, 
We seemed there so alone." 

MARIE did not answer the letter from Chris, and 
he wrote again two days later, much to her 
surprise : 

"Dear Marie Celeste, — I hope you are not dis- 
appointed because I did not turn up the other night. I 
really wish I had now, as the weather has broken, and 
we've been having downpours of rain every day, so the 
handicap has been postponed. If it was not that there 
are several good bridge players in the hotel I don't know 
how the deuce we should pass the time. Have you seen 
Feathers? He said he should look you up, but I don't 
expect he has, the old blighter ! Let me know how you 
are. I am sending you a cairngorm brooch with dia- 
monds, and hope you will like it. — ^Yours affectionately, 
Chris." 

Marie waited till the arrival of the brooch before she 
wrote: 

" Dear Chris, — ^Thank you for your letter and the 
brooch, which is very uncommon. I am sorry the weather 
is so bad for you; it's quite good here. Yes, Mr. 
Dakers came to see us. I think he looks very well. Don't 
hurry home on my account. I am quite all right. — ^Yours 
affectionately, Marie Celeste." 

What a letter, she thought, as she read it through — the 
sort of letter one might write to an acquaintance, cer- 
tainly not to a man one loved best in the world ! 

She showed the brooch to Feathers. 

**Yes, it's rather pretty," he agreed. "Everybody 

154 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 155 

seems to wear that stone in Scotland. Does Chris say 
when he is coming home ? " 

" No — ^he says the weather is bad." 

" He'll soon be home then." 

A flicker of eagerness crossed her eyes, 

" Oh, do you think so?" 

*' He will, if it's really bad ! You've no idea what it 
can be like up there once it starts to be wet." 

Marie and Feathers had motored together a great deal 
since that first day. 

" There'll be time enough for theatres when the winter 
comes," Feathers said. " I don't suppose you've seen 
much of the country, have you ? " 

" No." 

"Then we'll have a run to the New Forest some 
day." ; 

Marie looked up hesitatingly. 

"Would you mind if Aunt Madge came?" 

During the last few days she had been vaguely con- 
scious of Miss Chester's silent disapproval. 

" I shall be delighted if Miss Chester will come/' 
Feathers said readily. 

But Miss Chester refused. She did not mind a short 
run, she said, but it was too far into Hampshire, so they 
must go without her. 

She watched them drive away, and then sat down to 
write to Chris. She marked the letter "Private," and 
underlined the word twice to draw attention to it. She 
wrote : 

" My dear Chris, — ^Don't you think it's time you came 
home? Soon it will be five weeks since you went away, 
and it is a little hard on Marie, though she has not said 
one word of complaint to me. Mr. Dakers is very kind, 
taking her for drives, and looking: in to cheer us up, but 
the child must want her own husband, and you have been 
married such a little time. She does not know I am writ- 
ing to yoU, and she would be very angrry if she ever dis- 
covered it but take an old woman's advice, my dear boy, 
and come back." 

She felt much happier when the letter had been des- 



156 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

patched ; she went back to her knitting quite happily to 
wait events. 

But events came sooner than she had anticipated, 
for the morning post brought a letter, which had evi- 
dently crossed hers, to say that Chris was already on his 
way home, but was breaking the journey at Windermere 
for a few days to stay with friends. 

" So he cannot have had my letter ! " Miss Chester 
thought in dismay. She hoped it would eventually reach 
him. 

If she had been uneasy about young Atkins, she was 
much more perturbed about Feathers. She fully recog- 
nized the strength of the man and the attraction he 
would undoubtedly have for some women, and she knew 
that he was already too interested in Marie. 

" Chris ought never to have gone away alone," was her 
distressed thought. " If he had taken Marie with him, 
it would have been all right" 

And down in the Hampshire woods Marie was just 
then saying to Feathers : " I do wish Aunt Madge had 
come ! Wouldn't she have loved it ? " 

" I think she would. Perhaps she will come some other 
time." 

They had brought their own lunch and had camped at 
the foot of a mossy bank on the shady side of the road. 

It was very peaceful— the silence was hardly broken 
save for the occasional flutter of wings in the trees over- 
head or the distant sound of a motor horn from the 
main road. 

Feathers was lounging on the grass beside Marie, his 
hat thrown off and his hair rumpled up anyhow. 

There was a little silence, then Marie said : 

" I don't think I've ever seen anything so lovely. I 
wonder why Chris didn't came to a place like this, in- 
stead of " She broke off, realizing that she was 

speaking her thoughts aloud. 

" Instead of to that Tower of Babel by the sea, eh? " 
Feathers asked casually. 

" Yes, that is what I meant." 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 157 

" I suppose he thought you would find it more amus- 
ing. 

" Or that he would," said Marie bitterly. 

Feathers did not answer. He was clumsily threading 
bits of grass through the ribbon of Marie's hat, which lay 
beside him. 

"What's become of young Atkins?" he asked 
abruptly. 

The unexpectedness of the question sent the color to 
Marie's face. " I don't know," she said guiltily. " He 
hasn't been around lately. I liked him so much," she 
added wistfully. 

She looked down at Feathers with thoughtful eyes. 
He was a big, clumsy figure lying there, and she smiled 
as she watched him busily tucking the blades of grass 
into the ribbon of her hat. 

"Do you think you are improving it?" she asked 
suddenly. 

He looked up, and their eyes met 

Feathers did not answer. He was clumsily threading 
up with sudden energy. 

" Shall we go on ? " he asked, " or would you prefer to 
stay here ? " 

" We might stay a little while, don't you think ? " 

" For ever, if you like ! " 

She made a little grimace. 

" We should hate it if it began to rain." 

He looked up at the thick branches above their heads. 

" Rain would not easily get through here. Chris and I 
camped somewhere near this place a couple of years ago." 

" It must have been lovely." 

" It wasn't so bad. We slept out in the open air on 
warm nights." 

Marie leaned back against the great trunk of the tree 
under which they had Itmched, and looked away into the 
avenue of green arches before them. 

During the last day or two she had not thought so often 
of Chris, and to-day the mention of him had not brought 
that little stab of pain to her heart. Neither did she wish 



158 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

for him so passionately, nor think what happiness it 
would be to have him beside her instead of Feathers. 

She was always glad to be w^ith Feathers. His strong, 
ugly face had lost all its ugliness for her. She only saw 
his kindliness and heard the gentleness of his voice. 

Her eyes dwelt on him seriously. Some woman was 
losing a kind husband, she thought, and impulsively she 
said: 

" Mr. Dakers — I should like to see you married." 

He turned his head slowly and looked at her, and she 
wondered if it was just her imagination that his face 
paled beneath all its tan as he answered: 

*' That is very kind of you, Mrs. Lawless. I am afraid 
I ^lan't be able to oblige you though." 

She laughed a little. 

" It's just prejudice," she declared. " Some marriages 
must be very happy, surely ? " 

"Let us hope so, at any rate," said Feathers dryly, 
then he smiled. "I don't think there are many women 
in the world who would care to take me for a husband." 

" They would if they knew how kind you can be." 

Feathers rolled over, resting his elbows on the grass and 
his chin in his hands. 

It pleases your ladyship to flatter me," he said. 
I never flatter anyone," Marie answered. "And I 
wish you would take me seriously sometimes," she added, 
a trifle offendedly. 

Feathers was absently piling up a little heap of tiny 
twigs and last year's leaves. 

" I might be rather a monster if I were serious," he 
said. 

Marie shook her head. 

" I don't think so ! I think I should like yon better ! 
Sometimes now I've got the feeling that you're not 
really natural with me. No, no, I don't think I quite 
mean that either! It's so difficult to explain, but some- 
times it seems as if — almost as if you were — ^were tr3ring 
to keep me at arm's length," she explained haltingly. 

" You imagine things," Feathers said. 

" I don't think so," she answered quietly. " I know 






ft 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 159 

I'm not much of a judge of character or anything like 
that, but since weVe been such friends I've thought about 
you a good deal, and — 

" I am indeed honored.' 

She flushed sensitively. 

" There ! That's what I mean — when you say things 
like that! It isn't really you that's saying it, is it? 
I mean — ^you're not saying what you would really like 
to say." She laughed nervously. " I explain myself 
very badly, don't I? But I know in my heart what 
I mean, really I do." 

There was a little silence, then Feathers said gently: 

" Don't trouble about me, Mrs. Lawless ! I'm not 
at all a mysterious person, as you seem to be imagining. 
I'm just an ordinary man — as selfish as most of 'em, 
and no better than the worst; but . . . but I'm very 
grateful that you've taken me for a friend." 

" Chris asked in his last letter if I'd seen you." 

"Did he?" 

" Yes, he said you had promised to call, but that he 
did not think you would. He has told me so often that 
you don't like women." 

" I don't like them." 

"Perhaps you haven't met the right sort," she haz- 
arded. 

"Or perhaps I have," he answered grimly. He 
laughed, meeting her sympathetic eyes. " No I I'm not 
one of those romantic chaps with a love story in the past 
done up with blue ribbons and lavender. If you're try- 
ing to pity me on that score I'm sorry — ^but I don't de- 
serve it." 

She looked at him steadily. 

"Are you laughing at me, Mr. Dakers?" she asked, 
in a hurt voice. 

Feathers' hand fell over hers as it lay half-buried in 
the soft grass, and for a moment his fingers closed about 
it in a grip that hurt ; then he got to his feet. 

"Laughing at you I Don't you know me better 
than that?" 

He went over to the can and busied himself at the 



160 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

engine for a moment, and Marie watched him, with 
chagrined eyes. 

She liked him so much, but she understood him so 
little. She rose reluctantly when presently he called 
to her that it was time to make a start. She went over 
and stood beside him. 

"You're not angry with me, are you?" she asked 
hesitatingly. 

She thought at first he had not heard, until he said 
brusquely : 

" I'm never angry with you— only with myself." 

He picked up her coat from the grass. ** Put this 
on — ^you mustn't take cold." 

But he made no attempt to help her into it, and there 
was a little hurt look on her face as she turned away. 

She was sure that she had somehow annoyed hun, 
but could not understand in what way. She supposed 
it must be just her stupidity ! 

"And where shall we go next time?" she asked, as 
they neared London on the way home. " Can't we go 
out again to-morrow, if you are not engaged ? " 

Feathers did not answer at once; then he said rather 
stiffly : " Chris may be home." 

Marie laughed cynicsMy. 

" I don't think that is very likely to happen." 

There was a moment's silence, then Feathers said, 
almost fiercely: 

" He ought to come home ! It is his duty to come 
home ! " 

She did not answer — did not know how to answer. 
She was conscious of a little feeling of perplexity, but 
she asked no more questions, and when they were home 
again she held out her hand. 

" Good-bye, Mr. Dakers, and thank you so much." 

His deep eyes met hers rather defiantly. 

" And what about to-morrow ? " he asked. 

She flushed sensitively. 
I thought you did not care about it," she stammered. 

I thought perhaps you did not want to take me out 
any more — ^that there were other things you would 



« 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 161 

rather do. Oh, I don't want to take up all your time." 

He answered flintily : 

" There is nothing else I would rather do. What time 
may I call ? " 

" I promised to go shopping with Aunt Madge in the 

morning, but after lunch " She looked at him 

hesitatingly. 

" I will call at half -past two/' he said. "Good-bye, 
Mrs. Lawless." 

He raised his hat and drove away without a backward 
look, and Marie went slowly into the house. 

Miss Chester was in the drawing-room, patiently 
knitting as usual. She looked up with an anxious little 
smile as the girl entered. 

As a rule Marie's first question was, "Any letters 
for me?" but to-day she did not ask. She looked a 
little flushed and preoccupied, and answered absently 
when Miss Chester spoke to her. 

'* Did you have a nice run, dear ? " 

" Lovely. I think the ^ew Forest is the most beau- 
tiful place I have ever seen." 

There was a little silence only broken by the click of 
the old lady's knitting needles, then she said quietly : 

" I have had a letter from Chris. He is on his way 
home." 

Marie did not answer — ^her lips had fallen a little apart 
incredulously. 

" He is staying a few days at Windermere with some 
friends," Miss Qiester went on. "But he is on his way 
home, and will be here in a few days." 

She looked up at her niece. 

" I thought you would be so pleased," she said rather 
piteously. 

" So I am, dear, of course ! But — ^well, he has been 
coming home several times before, hasn't he? And 
we've always been disappointed." 

She went upstairs to her room. Chris was coming 
home! Sh^ looked at herself in the glass and wondered 
why there was no radiance in her eyes. A week ago 



162 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

she had been nearly wild with delight at the thought 
of seeing him, but this time somehow it was different 

" I've been disappointed so often, that is it," she 
thought. " I am not going to think about it at all." 

But she could think of nothing else. Would he have 
changed? What would he be like? Had she got to 
go back to the old weariness and jealousy when once 
again she saw him every day? Lately she seemed to 
have freed herself a little from the shackles of pain and 
she dreaded feeling their merciless grip upon her afresh. 

" Perhaps he won't come," was her last thought, 
as she fell asleep that night, and for the first time since 
her marriage she felt that in a way it would be a relief 
if something happened again to postpone his return. 



/ 



CHAPTER XV 

" I sat with Love upon a woodside well. 
Leaning across the water, I and he; 
Nor ever did he speak, or look at me, 
But touched his lute wherein was audible, 
The certain secret thing he had to tell." 

FEATHERS walked around the following afternoon. 
" I've left the car to be tuned up," he explained as 
he and Marie shook hands. " And I've got a bril- 
liant idea for to-morrow ! " He looked round the room. 
" Where is Miss Chester? " 

"Lying down. The sun this morning gave her a head- 
ache." 

** Well, do you care to go on the river to-morrow?" 

Marie's eyes sparkled. 

" Oh, I should love it ! In a punt?" 

*' We can have a punt, if you like ; I'll wire to-day for 
it, and we can drive down and take our Itmch. Do you 
know the river ? " 

She laughed. 

"I've seen it at London Bridge and 'once at Putney — 
that's aU." 

" You've never seen Wargrave ? " 

" No." 

"Good! We'll go there '' Feathers hesitated. 

"Do you think your aunt would care to come?" He 
tried to put enthusiasm into the question, but not very 
successfully. Marie shook her head. 

" I am sure she would not. She does not like the river, 
and she is horribly afraid of small boats. She thinks 
they are bound to upset." 

" They are all right if you know how to manage them. 
It's all fixed up, then? I'll order the lunch — 

163 



>i 



164 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

She interrupted quickly: "Oh, I can do that; you 
don't want to have all the bother." 

" It's no bother to me ; I was always chief cook and 
bottle washer when Chris and I camped out together. 
As a matter of fact, lunch is ordered already." 

" You were so sure I would come? " 

" I hoped you would." 

She gave a little sigh of eager anticipation. 

" Oh, I should love it." 

"Let's hope it will keep fine." Feathers glanced 
towards the window. "It looks promising. Wear 
something that won't spoil — ^the river ruins good clothes." 

He took up his hat. 

"Oh, won't you stay to tea?" Marie asked disap- 
pointedly. " It will be here in a moment." 

He hesitated, then sat down again. 

" Well — I did not mean to, but as I've been asked-- — " 

Marie laughed. 

" Do you always do as you're asked ? " 

" It depends on who asks me." 

She rang the bell for tea. 

" And please tell my aunt that Mr. Dakers is here," 
she said to the maid. 

She was always very punctilious about telling Miss 
Chester whenever Feathers called. 

" Have you heard from Chris ? " Feathers asked sud- 
denly. 

" Yes — last night. He is at Windermere — on his way 
home." 

Feathers looked up quickly. 

" Then he may be here at any time ? " 

Marie shrugged her shoulders. " I don't expect him 
yet," she said in rather a hard voice. "If he likes 
Windermere, I dare say he will stay for a week or so." 

There was a little silence. 

" Of course if he should turn up to-morrow, our little 
outing must be postponed," Feathers said quietly. 

Marie did not answer, and he repeated his words. 

" Yes, of course," she agreed then. 

She looked at him critically. Had he begun to dress 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 165 

better since he came back to London? Or was it just 
that she was getting used to hhn, she wondered? She 
would have been surprised if she had known the time 
and trouble Feathers spent on his appearance each morn- 
ing before he came to see her, and how he cursed his 
ugliness and ungainliness every time he caught sight 
of himself in a glass. 

He turned up in white flannels the following morning, 
with a light dust coat and a soft felt hat. 

Miss Oiester refused to come, as Marie had prophesied. 

" I detest the river," she said strenuously, " And 
after your dreadful experience, Marie, I wonder you 
have the pluck to go near water again." 

" I shall be quite safe with Mr. Dakers," Marie an- 
swered, " and it's such a lovely day ! Do change your 
mind and come, dear." 

But Miss Chester would not be persuaded. 

"And don't be late home," was her last injunction. 
" I shall be nervous and tmhappy about you till you are 
safely back again." 

" I am going to enjoy myself," Marie said. " I am 

quite sure we are going to have a lovely day." She 

ran upstairs to put on her hat. She had carried out 

Feathers' instructions by choosing a white linen frock 

and a Panama hat, and white shoes and stockings. She 

looked very young and dainty. Feathers thought, as 

she came running down the stairs. 

" You will want a coat," he said quietly. " It may 
* $t 
ram. 

" Rain ! " she echoed, scornfully. She made a little 
grimace at him. " Why, there isn't a cloud in the sky." 
But she went back obediently for the coat, and to say 
good-bye to Miss Chester, 

"And, oh, my dear, do be careful!" the old lady 
urged anxiously. "Whatever shall I say to Chris if 
an)rthing happens ? " 

" Notfiing will happen," said Marie, " except that we 
shall thoroughly enjoy ourselves." 

She shut the drawing-room door behind her, and stop- 



166 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

ped for a moment in the hall to peep at herself in the 
glass. 

She had not looked so well for a long time. She turned 
away with a little sigh of contentment, and at that 
moment a telegraph boy ran up the steps to the front 
door. 

Seeing Marie, he did not ring the bell, but handed 
her the yellow envelope. It was addressed to " Lawless," 
and Marie tore it open apprehensively. 

" Home this afternoon. — Chris." 

Marie's heart gave a great leap, then seemed to stand 
stiU. 

" No answer," she said mechanically. 

She watched the boy go down the steps and mount 
his bicycle at the curb, then she read the short message 
again. 

" Home this afternoon — Chris." 

This meant that she could not have her day on the 
river — ^that she must tell Feathers she could not go with 
him. 

He was outside in the road, tinkering with the car, 
and had not seen the telegram delivered. With a sudden 
impulse Marie thrust it into her frock. Why should she 
stay at home just because after all these weeks Chris 
chose to come back? Why should she give up a day's 
enjoyment with a man who really enjoyed her society 
just to be hurt and ignored and made to suffer afresh? 

Feather called to her from the road: "Are you 
ready, Mrs. Lawless?" 

" Yes, coming now." She ran down the steps, her 
cheeks flushed with a defiant sense of guilt. It was the 
first time in her life that she had done an)rthing mean 
or shabby, but her heart had grown hard during the 
past days, and it no longer seemed a dreadful matter 
that she shotdd not trouble to be present when Chris 
came home. 

There was a large picnic basket strapped to the back of 
the car, and FeaSiers told her laughingly that he had 
brought a magnum of champagne. 

Marie opened her brown eyes wide. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 167 



" Gracious ! Who do you think will drink it all ? " 

" Oh, I think we can, between us, quite easily. We've 
got all day before us, you know." 

Marie leaned back luxuriously. She had resolutely 
pushed all thought of Chris from her mind and she did 
not mean to think of him till they got back home again. 

" I'm going to enjoy myself, and not worry about any- 
thing," she said recklessly. 

Feathers looked down at her. " Do you worry about 
things ? " he asked gently. " Don't do it, Mrs. Lawless ! 
It brings wrinkles and chases away smiles.'* 

"Does It? How do you know?" 

*' I suppose I have eyes like other people," he answered. 

** Aunt Madge would not come, you see ; I was sure 
she would not," Marie said presently. " And she has 
quite made up her mind that I am going to be drowned 
and that she will never see me any more." 

" I don't think she need worry." 

"That's what I told her; I said I knew I should be 
quite safe with you," 

"Thank you." She looked up, surprised by the 
gravity of his voice, but he was not looking at her, and 
his ugly profile was a little hard and stem. 

It was a silent drive, but Marie gave a little cry of de- 
light, when at last a curve in the road brought them 
within sight of the river. 

"There's an inn further down the road where we 
can leave the car and get a punt," Feathers said. "Then 
well get up in the backwater and have lunch." 

Marie's face was glowing and she looked like a child 
who has unexpectedly come across an illuminated Christ- 
mas tree. 

"I never knew there were such lovely places in the 
world," she said. When Feathers had run the car into 
the yard adjoining the inn she went down to the river, 
and stood on the small, rough wooden landing-stage, 
looking down at the silently flowing water with dreamy 
eyes. 

It was so peaceful, so restful, with the soft sound of 
the breeze in the trees and tall rushes, and the sensuous 



168 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

lap of the» water against the boats moored to the landing- 
stage. ^ 

And again the thought went through her mind — ^what 
a lovely world it would be if one could only have things 
just a little, little bit different! 

Feathers brought an armful of cushions from the boat- 
house, put the luncheon hamper on board, and stripped 
off his coat preparatory to starting business. 

He pushed off from the landing-stage, and let the punt 
drift down stream. He was a square, strong figure 
standing up against the cloudless sky, and a thought that 
had often crossed Marie's mind came again as she looked 
at him : What a kind man he could be to some woman, 
and how happy some woman could be with him ! 

After all, what did a handsome face matter when it 
came down to the difficult business of every-day life? 
It was kindness that counted and sympathy and gentle- 
ness and understanding. Her brown eyts grew wistful as 
she watched his ugly, preoccupied face. 

Here was a man who disliked all women even as Chris 
did, and yet he had found it possible to be kind to her, to 
befriend her in her loneliness and perplexity. She felt 
that she could not be sufficiently grateful to him. 

Feathers did not speak till they had left the main 
stream and slipped into the wonderful backwater that 
lies between War^rave and Henley. Marie had never 
seen anything like it in her life. She held her breath in 
sheer delight as she lay back amongst the cushions and 
looked up at the canopy of leaves overhead. 

There were very few people about. Now and then a 
laugh reached them across the water or the sound of row- 
locks, and once a big water rat scurried past them along 
the margin of rushes and reeds, staring at them for a 
second with dark, bright eyes before it plunged and 
disappeared. 

Feathers drew in the punt pole and /took a paddle. 

" Well, how do you like it ? " he asked. 

Her brown eyes shone. 

" I never knew there was anything so lovely in Eng- 
land," she said. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 169 

" That is the mistake so many people make," he an- 
swered. " They rush off abroad with a party of dreadful 
tourists and tire themselves out in order to see some 
musty old museum or cathedral, and never trouble to see 
the beauty spots of their own country. Look behind 
you now I " 

Marie turned her head obediently. They were nearing 
an old bridge, built so low down to the water that it was 
only possible for a boat to pass beneath it if the occu- 
pants bent their heads. 

" We'll go through and tie up on the other side," 
Feathers said. ** Mind your head." He guided the boat 
skillfully through and out on the other side. 

Marie laughed and raised her head. Her soft hair was 
all roughened by the cushions, and one long strand had 
tumbled down over her shoulder. 

" How old did you tell me you were ? " Feathers 
asked rather grimly. " Nineteen or nine ? " 

" Nearly twenty," Marie said indignantly. 

" I refuse to believe it," he answered. " You are only 
just out of the schoolroom with that curl hanging down." 
He indicated the fallen lock of hair and Marie laughed 
and blushed as she hurriedly fastened it up. 

They tied up to a bank, and Feathers set out the lunch. 

Marie wanted to do it, but he said no, it was her holi- 
day, and she was not to work at all. 

" Look upon me as a sort of serf, or vassal ! " he said, 
laughingly. " Order me about ; put your foot on my 
neck, for to-day I am your humble servant." 

" But only for to-day ! " said Marie, with a quick 
little sigh. 

He looked up sharply. 

" What do you mean ? " 

She answered quite innocently: 

" I only meant that I wish good things did not last 
such a little while. I've never been so happy as I am 



now." 



" Never, Mrs. Lawless ? Isn't that rather a big 
order?" 
She sat up, leaning her chin in the palm of her hand. 



170 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" It's tfue," she said quietly. " I used to dream about 
a lot of silly things that could never really come true, 
but this " — she looked at the beauty of the peaceful scene 
surrounding them. ' 

" I never thought I could be so — so peacefully happy 
as I am now." 

Feathers had been opening a tin of tongue, and the 
knife slipped suddenly, cutting deeply into his hand. 

He gave a little exclamation of annoyance, and Marie 
started up. " Oh, you have hurt yourself." 

" Nothing, nothing at all." He dipped his hand 
into the water and hurriedly bound it round with a 
handkerchief. " Heavens, don't look so scared ! It's 
nothing to what has happened when we've been camping 
out ! The tent we were sleeping in collapsed on us one 
night, and we were nearly smothered. I should have 
been, but for Chris — ^he hauled me out." 

" Did he?" her face grew wistful. " Chris is very fond 
of you," she said. 

Feathers shrugged his shoulders. 

" Oh, we get on very well together." 

He went on preparing the luncheon, and when it was 
ready he rose to his feet and made her a salaam. 

" The feast is served, fair lady ! " 

He had tied the champagne bottle to the side of the 
boat, letting it dangle in the water, and he drew it care- 
fully up and released the cork, letting it fly up into the 
trees overhead with a tremendous report. 

Marie laughed like a child ; she was so happy to-day 
that everything pleased and amused her. 

Feathers filled two gla3ses and handed one to her, 
holding out his own in a toast. 

"To your future happiness,"^ he said gravely. 

Marie flushed a little. 

" To yours," she said tremulously. " And — ^and tG 
many happy returns of this very happy day." 

Feathers winced as if she had hurt him, but he an- 
swered lightly: 

"Well, why not? We can come again to-morrow. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 171 

if you like? Wise people take advantage of the sun-, 
shine in this country." 

Her face paled; she put the glass down untouched. 
Then abruptly she drew the crumped telegram from her 
frock and gave it to him. 

" Mr. Dakers, this came this morning." 

He took it wonderingly ; read it, and handed it back. 

" Why didn't you tell me ? " he asked. She did not 
answer, and he went on almost angrily: "You should 
have stayed at home. Mrs. Lawless, why didn't you tell 
me? We could easily have cancelled our arrange- 
ments." 

She answered him then, in a little shamed whisper: 

" Because — ^because I wanted to come with you." 

And there followed a long silence, unbroken save for 
the soft cooing of a wood pigeon in the trees overhead. 

Feathers was kneeling on the grassy bank to which the 
punt was moored, his head a little downbent, his brows 
furiously frowning. 

All her life Marie remembered him as he looked then, 
such a big, very masculine man, with his great shoulders 
and ugly head, his jaw thrust out in an obstinate line, 
and yet — there seemed to be something strangely help- 
less about him, something that seemed to contradict the 
angry tone in which he had just spoken. 

Then, quite suddenly he looked up and their eyes met,» 
Marie's hot and ashamed, though she could not have 
explained why, and his tr)ring so hard not to betray the 
agitation that was rending him. 

"Are you angry with me?" she faltered. "Oh, 
don't be angry with me." And, covering her face with 
her hands, she burst into tears. 

Feathers got up abruptly and stood with averted head 
staring down stream. 

The river was flowing swiftly just there, and it was 
carrying with it a little toy boat which someone had 
twisted out of a newspaper. 

Feathers followed its passage mechanically. It seemed 
symbolical of his life during the past ten years, during 
wluch he had just allowed himself to drift helplessly 



172 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

with the tide, until now, when he stood face to face with 
the disaster of the hidden rock of a girl's simplicity and 
desperate unhappiness. 

Feathers was no fool, and he knew quite well that 
Marie's tears were the outcome of all she had suffered 
since her marriage. 

She had looked for love and happiness, and had found 
neither. She had been flung back on herself and his 
friendship, and in her gratitude for the little he had done 
to try and cheer her she had magnified her affection 
for him. 

He did some swift thinking as he stood there, his face 
resolutely turned from her as she sat crying desolately. 

Every instinct of his manhood was to tcJke her in his 
arms and comfort her, but he knew that such happiness 
was not for him— <:ould never be for him. 

After a moment he went back to the deserted lunch. 
His face was white, but he made a desperate effort to 
speak cheerily. 

" And this is the day we were going to enjoy so much ! 
You will never come out with me any more now I have 
been such a brute. Mrs. Lawless, won't you have some 
of this jam sandwich before the wasps consume it all ? " 

Marie dried her tears, and laughed and cried again. 

" I'm so sorry ; I don't know why I was such a baby. 
No ; don't look at me ; I'm so ashamed." 

She leaned over the side of the punt and bathed 
her eyes in the cool water, drying them on Feathers' silk 
handkerchief, which he put within her reach. 

He went on calmly serving out the lunch and talking 
about anything that came into his head. 

" Last time I was here, it came on to pour cats and 
dogs just as we'd started lunch! There was lobster 
mayonnaise, I remember, and a fine mess it was in. We're 
luckier to-day. There isn't a cloud. Do you like cream? 
Yes, I remember you said you did when we lunched at 
Mrs. Costin's inn." 

He gave Marie plenty of time to recover herself. A 
great sigh of relief escaped him when at last she looked 
up and smiled 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 173 

•' All right now ? " 

" Yes." 

"And I'm quite forgiven?" 

" It wasn't your fault ! You know it wasn't." 

"Well, we won't argue! Mrs. Lawless, if you don't 
drink that champagne I shall have to come and make 
you." 

Marie drank some of it, and it did her good. The 
color stole slowly back to her cheeks. 

They talked trivialities for the remainder of the meal, 
and then Feathers gravely washed up and stowed the 
remains of the feast away in the hamper. 

" We'll go on to Henley for tea," he said, " and you'll 
see the houseboats. I came down to one three years ago 
with a house party. Chris and Atkins were there as well. 
By the way, I had a note from Atkins last night." 

" Did you ? " Marie flushed. " I should like to see him 
again," she said. 

" Well, why not ? Now Chris is home we must make 
up some dinner parties and theatre parties." 

She looked away. " He's not home yet." 

" No ; but he will be. You'll find him looking for you 
when we get back, and ready to break my head for 
having taken you out." 

" Do you think so ? " Her voice was coldly contemp- 
tuous, and Feathers hurriedly tried another subject. 

" The thing to do in a punt is to go to sleep. Have 
you ever slept in a punt in a backwater like this ? No ? 
Then you've missed half the joys of life. Come out on 
the bank a minute and let me arrange those cushions." 

He held his hand to her, but she avoided it, and stood 
watching silently as he made a great business of plumping 
up the cushions and spreading his coat for her to lie on. 

"There you are! Isn't that great? Mind, you'll 
upset the whole show ! " 

He tightened the moorings a little and looked down 
at her with a strained smile. 

Marie had gone back to the punt and dragged a cushion 
beneath her dark head. 



174 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Feathers sat down on the grass, his back to a tree, 
and produced a pipe which he gravely lit. 

" I've had this pipe four years," he said. " Chris 
says it's a disgrace to civilization, but I like it! You 
don't mind if I smoke?" 

" No, please do." 

She closed her eyes, not from any wish to sleep, but 
to avoid talking. There was a little fear at the back 
of her mind which she could not capture or recognize. 

Why had she cried? Why was it now that when Chris^ 
was on his way home — ^perhaps was already in London — 
there was no joy in her heart, only dread ? 

It was very still there in the backwater. Now and 
then a bird darted down from the trees overhead and 
skimmed the clear water with a flash of brown wings; 
or some little creature stirred in the rushes, splashing 
the water and sending out ever-widening circles to the 
opposite bank. ^ 

Feathers sat motionless, his arms folded, puffing at 
his pipe, his eyes fixed on Marie's face. 

Such a child! Such a child! That was always his 
compassionate thought of her; and yet — ^those tears 
she had shed just now had not been a child's tears, but a 
woman's. 

He was afraid to question himself, afraid to read the 
answer which he knew was there in his heart, but his 
eyes searched the soft contours of her face with passion- 
ate longing. 

Was she asleep ? Somehow he did not think she was. 
And yet he was glad of these moments in which he might 
look at her without having to hold the mask before his 
face — for this little time in which she seemed to be his 
own. 

He had long known that he loved her and had accepted 
the fact as philosophically as he had accepted the many 
other ironies and disappointments of his life. 

It was meant to be! He could not have helped or 
prevented it, even had he wished. She was his friend's 
wife, and there was not one disloyal thought in Feathers' 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 175 

hesirt at he sat there and let his pipe grow cold and 
dreamed with his eyes on little Marie Celeste. 

There was a gramophone playing somewhere in the 
distance, and the water between lent it a softness and 
melody that was undeserved. It grew clearer and clearer 
as the boat carrying it came up stream, and presently 
Feathers could distinguish the words of the song : 

I dream of the day I met you ; 

I dream of the light divine 
That shone in your tender eyes, love. 

When first they looked in mine, 
I dream of the rose you gave me, 

I dream of our last farewell, 
I dream of the silent longing 

That only the heart can tell . . . 

Feathers had a healthy scorn for all things senti- 
metal, but he found himself listening till the boat had 
passed on and the song vanished again into silence. 

He looked at his watch then — it was four o'clock. If 
they started at once they could not possibly get home 
before half-past seven or eight, he knew, and recklessness 
closed down upon him. 

It was his last day! Why not snatch all the hours 
possible? What could it matter to Chris if he lost a 
little of his wife's company ? 

^o he let Marie sleep on, and sat there without moving, 
torturing himself with thoughts of the future, till pres- 
ently she roused and opened her eyes. 

She lay for a moment looking at him unrecognizingly, 
then she started up, rubbing her eyes in confusion. 

"Have I been asleep? Why didn't you wake me? 
What is the time?" 

"I am afraid I dozed off myself. It's the heat, I 
expect." He made a great business of yawning and 
stretching his krms, though he had not once closed his 
eyes. "It's nearly six — I am afraid we shall not have 
time to go on to Henley." 

"It doesn't matter," she said quickly. "We can go 
another day." 



176 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" Yes, we can go another day," he echoed, with the 
full knowledge that for him there would never be another 
day. 

The sun was sinking down behind the trees and pas- 
tureland and a cool breeze had risen. 

Marie shivered, and Feathers picked up her coat and 
gave it to her silently. 

" I'm not really cold," she said, but she put it on. 

" Have we got to go back now ? " she asked, as he 
began to untie the rope that held them to the bank. 

*' Yes, I think we ought. We have to get to London, 
you know." 

" Yes." 

It was getting quite dark in the backwater. One punt 
which passed them carried Chinese lanterns that glowed 
like magic eyes through the September evening. 

" Mr. Daicers," Marie said suddenly. 

" Yes." He was intent on the paddle and did not look 
up. 

" There is something I want to ask you before — ^be- 
fore we go home." 

" Yes." His voice sounded a little jerky, 

" It's only . . . you will still come and see me, won't 
you ? — I mean even — even if Chris has come home ? " 

" Of course. Why shouldn't I ? " 

"I don't know — I only thought perhaps . . ." Her 
voice faltered, only to break out again passionately: 
" Oh, if you knew how I hate the thought of the future," 
and then, with shamed realization of what her words 
might convey, she tried to laugh as she went on : "I 
don't exactly mean that, but — but, oh, you know I'm 
not the sort of wife Chris ought to have married ! It's 
kind of you to try and pretend that you think I am, 
but I'm not so blind as I used to be, and I know now! 
And I can't even make myself different — I suppose 
because I'm too stupid ... If only I were more like 
Mrs. Heriot or Dorothy Webber . . ." 

Feathers broke in harshly : " For God's sake, don't 
compare yourself with them." 

" But it's true — ^you know it's true," she insisted 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 177 

"I don't want you to think I'm blaming Qiris; I've 
never blamed him in all my life, and I want him to be 
happy, but . . ." Her voice trailed hopelessly ^way, 
only to recover again with a pathetic effort. 

" I'm not the sort of girl ever to make him happy. 
At first I hoped — oh, I hoped so hard that things would 
come right, but lately — ^just during the last few days, 
I think, I seem to have seen that it can never be. I 
suppose I ought not to say all this to you — ^you're his 
friend, and I am glad you are." 

" I am your friend, too," said Feathers, quietly. 

"I know; that's why I'm telling you. It's — ^it's 
dreadful to have no one I can talk to — ^no one to under- 
stand and help me." 

"I am afraid it's beyond me to help you," Feathers 
said hoarsely. " I can only tell you to be patient and 
try and stick it out Pluck's everything you know, Mrs. 
Lawless " 

As if she had not been plucky ! He gritted his teeth 
at his temerity in daring to preach such a doctrine to 
her, and yet it was the best he could do. To offer her 
the S3rmpathy and tenderness that was tearing his heart 
with longing would be to ruin their friendship once and 
for all. 

He looked back at her with hot eyes. He could only 
see her face dimly through the dusk, but he heard the 
little despondent sigh she gave as she answeerd him: 
" Yes ; I suppose you are right. I will try again — ^thank 
you." 

" There's nothing to thank me for." 

She laughed with soft scorn. 

" How can you say that ! Why, you've been kinder 
to me than anyone in the world." 

" My selfishness probably." He was making a des- 
perate effort to get back to platitudes, but it was difficult 
on such a perfect night and in the company of the one 
woman in the world who had ever touched his heart. 

" I haven't drowned you, you see," Feathers said, as 
they reached the boathouse again. 

" No — ^and it's been such a lovely day." 



178 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

He went off to get the car ready. Every moment was 
precious now, and there were so few left. He thought 
jealously of the short drive back to London, and wished 
that its end lay on the other side of infinity. 

" It's been such a lovely day ! " Marie said again, as 
they started. "I have enjoyed it — ^tremendously!" 1 

The last word was a sigh. ' 

" So have L" 

There were so many things he wanted to say to her, 
but his tongue was awkward and unable to find the 
words. He wanted to tell her that always, whatever hap- 
pened, he was her devoted friend, that his one desire in 
life was for her happiness, but mile after mile slipped by 
and the tender thoughts could get no further than his 
sad heart. 

And then they were home. . . 

Feathers' face was grim as he stopped the car at Miss 
Chester's gate and looked down at Marie. 

" I hope you are not very tired, Mrs. Lawless," he said, 
and smiled grimly to himself in the gray night at the 
contrast of the banal inquiry and the passionate words 
that were almost choking him. 

" No, I am not very tired," she said, and she gave him 
a little pale smile as they went up the steps together. 
** You will — ^will wait and see if Chris has come? " 

"Yes." 

She asked the maid who admitted them, ''Has Mr. 
Lawless come home?" but she knew before the girl 
answered, for Chris' big traveling coat hung in the hall 
and there was a smell of cigarette smoke in the house 
which had been absent during the past weeks. 

She felt a little giddy, and her heart was beating wildly. 
How could she bear to meet him and hear his casual 
"Hullo, Marie Celeste?" 

" Mr. Lawless came home this afternoon quite early," 
the maid answered. " He had dinner with Miss Chester 
and went out : he said he should not be in till late." 

There was a little silence. 

"I won't stay then, Mrs. Lawless," Feathers said 
quietly. " Good-night" 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 179 



it 
U 



" Good-night." Her fingers fluttered in his big grasp 
for a moment, then he turned away and the front door 
shut heavily behind him. 

Marie went into the drawing-rodm to Miss Chester. 
She felt very tired, and her footsteps dragged. 
We've got back," she said. 

Yes." Miss Chester looked up. "I thought I 
heard Mr. Dakers' voice," she added. 

" So you did, but he would not stay when he heard 
that Chris had gone out." 

Miss Chester's kindly gaze wavered a little. 

" Chris seemed very disappointed not to find you at 
home," she said. " He could not understand it. He 
said that he wired he should be home this afternoon." 

" So he did, and I got the wire, but as he is always so 
uncertain I did not think it worth while to stay at home." 

There was a little silence. The distressed color rushed 
to Miss Chester's thin face, and she laid down her 
knitting. 

" Marie ! " she said, aghast. 

Marie smiled. ^ 

" Well, dear, he has wired before, and written before, 
and not come," she said. " And I did so want to go on 
the river." 

She took off her hat and ran her fingers through her 
hair. Her nerves felt all on edge« She was afraid that 
at any moment the door would open and Chris walk 
in. She wondered desperately what she should say to| 
him. It frightenef* her, because there was none of the 
ecstasy in her heart, which had once been such a joy and 
a torment. 

" Chris was hungry,^ so we did not wait dinner.' Have 
you had yours ? " Miss Chester asked. ^ 

*' Yes ; no, I mean. I am not hungry ; we had such 
a big lunch." 

Marie wandered restlessly down the room. A sporting 
paper lay on one of the tables amongst the silver trinkets 
and queer little Victorian boxes which had belonged to 
her mother. Chris had thrown it down there, she knew — 
and there was cigarette ash in one of the fern pots. 



180 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

"He looks splendidly well/' Miss Qiester went on, 
attacking her shawl once more. " So brown ! I never 
saw anyone with such a brown skin." 

Marie could picture him quite well — knew how start- 
lingly blue his eyes would look against that weather- 
tanned face. She stopped in front of a photograph 
of him, and stared at it with a curious expression in her 
eyes. 

It had been taken when he was at Cambridge and 
showed him on the river in boating flannels. She re- 
membered so well when he had sent that photograph 
home — it had been during the one short period of her 
life when for a little while she had almost forgotten him. 

She had not seen him for weeks, and a fresh school 
had made new interests for her that had pushed him 
into the background of her thoughts. Then that photo- 
graph came, and she could remember as plainly as though 
it had been yesterday the sudden revulsion of feeling that 
had flooded her heart, bringing back all the old longing 
ache and worshipful love, even causing her to despise 
herself because just for a little she had forgotten her idol. 

As she stood staring at it now, she was conscious of 
a wish that was almost a prayer for some such meta- 
morphosis to happen again. She would have welcomed 
the old biting jealousy and disappointment if she could 
have driven this new feeling of cold indifference from 
her heart. 

" He brought me some lovely lace," Miss Chester went 
on. " There is one thing about Chris, he never forgets 
to bring us presents when he has been away. He is 
always most generous." 

Marie echoed the words flatly. 

"Yes, he is always most generous." And, for the 
first time since she had overheard what Feathers had 
said in the hotel on the night of her wedding, the bitter 
thought awoke in her heart that, after all, it was only 
her money with which Chris was being generous — the 
price he had paid for his freedom. 

" If Chris is going to be late home," she said rest- 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 181 

lessly, "I will go to bed. I really am tired. It's the river, 
I suppose. Mr. Dakers says it is supposed to make 
people sleepy." 

She had crossed to Miss Chester to kiss her good-night, 
when the door opened and Chris walked into the room. 









"fhr tgrr ^le iad takm oS i^/iicii -shr 
Ornf iwas ahnry;T 2?^ frnhrrrrsfflcfl ag ishr, He oolored 
^ "ftg 7IKI& Di Ins iair and langHrfl awftmsnS^. 
**" So yan^vt ^m iaai^ Marie Celeste.* 

* Yes-^ And :flic Aradrd] patac idl s^pem. 
71»r bciA knew gnttt ivell f hat Mis 

m'atxili'n^ thftm, Inrt inr -die liie x}f ier Marie c 
hav^ woDv^i a stiy towards lum. Thm,, at la: 
said, ^' Well, aareii'l yna gnhig to |rive me a iass? 
fie was ^rrSi}j 3icr(rot&, m'^ich partiall y ^ 
for fte ligfhtnrw; ^ ^be vrixrds, Imt Mane rod i 
3z^ TntD thfiTTv, cxcepd" liie old ^dreaded mfliflirieuoe, and 
^at lamnrf iier face aws^ ipciien lie bent lovank her, so 
llaftlss loss ic31 ob ber cihffA 

* Yi3o lodk jpcjy iw^** lie said, TinraiTy it was the ex- 



^ So ^ JQ^T 25 ^^ ToovcA €rvcr to llQss Chester as if 

for pratectuan, asd sat (down en tibe anm of her diair. 

Quis Iciiiii^ged agaia^ Ibc irnaiftfWadf and stared up 
at die rrilTiig 

easlced. 



bi ia g ii igr Iqs q;«s down to las wife*s pa!le face. 

'^ Yes — Td never been before. We went op to War- 
grave. It was lordj ! ** 

jcAy 



''We bad some good times camping out jeais ago," 
Clmssaid. "^ If s aD right if the weather holds." 
''Yt^ said Harie. She locdced at him with brown 

i8t 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 183 

eyes that were merely critical and no longer slavishly 
adoring. He was handsomer than ever, she thought, but 
the wonderful feeling of pride in him had gone. She 
could admire him almost with indifference. 

"It was queer, you meeting Dorothy," she said, with 
an effort, and Qiris said, "Yes, the world is a small 
place." 

" I told her that I was sure you would be pleased to 
have her to stay any time she liked to write and fix it 
up," he added. " She plays a fine game of golf, but I 
beat her in the end." 

" She was always good at sports," Marie said me- 
chanically. 

Miss Chester gathered up her knitting and said it was 
time she went to bed. It was infinitely pathetic to her, 
because both Chris and Marie immediately protested that 
it was still quite early, and that surely ihtre was no 
hurry. 

But she persisted, and went off to her room. 

There was an awkward silence when she had gone. 
Chris lit a cigarette and forgot to keep it alight. 

" I've brought you a bracelet," he said abruptly. " I 
hope you'll like it." He took a little box from his pocket, 
" I got it in Edinburgh coming down — ^I thought it was 
i-ather pretty." 

He held the case to her. " Well, don't you want it? " 

" Thank you, Chris ; of course, I do f Thank you, very 
much." She opened the snap and gave a little exclama- 
tion of pleasure ; the bracelet was designed like a wreath 
of small water lilies, the petals made of platinum, with a 
diamond in the heart of each fiower. 

" It's very pretty," she said. " Thank you so much." 

But she made no attempt to take it from the case or 
slip it on her wrist, and with a little impatient move- 
ment he took it from her. 

" Come here," he said. " Hold out your hand." 

She did so, and he snapped the bracelet on to her arm. 

" It's very pretty," said Marie, but she did not dare to 
raise her eyes to her husband's face. The touch of his 
hand on her arm had communicated to her something of 



i 



184 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 



/ 



his old magnetism, and she knew that she was trem- 
bling in every limb. 

Then, suddenly, before she could guess at his intention, 
Chris had caught her in his arms, and was kissing her 
passionately, bringing stinging patches of crimson to her 
white face, and almost robbing her of breath. 

Then he held her at arm's length, his handsome face 
flushed, and his eyes very bright and triumphant. 

" You little iceberg ! How dare you give me such a 
cold reception ! I've been looking forward to seejpg you 
and you calmly go out as if I didn't exist . . . Why, 
what's the matter, Marie Celeste ? " 

He seemed suddenly aware of the strange expression 
of her eyes. His hands relaxed their grip, and she twisted 
herself free. 

She had felt his kisses to be an outrage. She knew 
that he did not love her, and that this sudden burst of 
passion was worth nothing at all. There was something 
akin to hatred in her eyes as she raised them to his 
abashed face. 

" Please never dare to do that again," she said in a 
voice that was all the more intense for its quietness. " I 
have never bothered you, or asked anything of you — you 
have gone where you liked and stayed away as long as 
you pleased — you always can — but in exchange I expect 
you to allow me the same freedom." 

Chris flushed scarlet, but more with surprise than any 
other emotion. That she should dare so to speak to him 
was the biggest shock of his life. 

For a moment he could find no words, then he broke 
out savagely: "Someone has been talking! Someone 
has been setting you against me. I felt that you had 
changed directly I came into the room. Who is it ? Tell 
me who it is ? " 

She smiled contemptuously. 

" I have hardly seen anyone, except Aunt Madge's 
friends and your own, and if you think they have any 
reason to speak against you it is no fault of mine." 

He broke in passionately : " It's that young devil, 
Atkins. I knew he was keen on you; I — Marie " 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 185 

He caught her by the arm, swinging her round to him as 
she would have turned away, his eyes searching her face 
with bitter suspicion. " I suppose you've forgotten that 
you are my wife ? " he demanded. 

She looked up. 

" If I have, it isn't for you to be surprised, seeing that 
you have never once troubled to remember it." 

" Marie — what do you mean ? I thought ... I mean 
— it was your wish ..." He stammered and broke 
off; then all at once he turned away with a little harsh 
laugh. 

" What a nice home-coming ! I wish to God I'd 
stayed away." 

" You would have done so if you'd wanted to," Marie 
said quietly. She waited a moment, but Chris did not 
speak, and she moved towards the door. " I am tired — 
and I dare say you are. Good-night." 

He did not answer, and she went silently away. 

Chris stood with his elbow on the mantelshelf, staring 
down into the empty grate. His pride, if nothing more 
serious, had received a nasty blow. 

He had come home quite happily — having had the 
time of his life — had looked forward to seeing Marie 
Celeste — had planned all sorts of things for her amuse- 
ment — and, incidentally, his own — in the future, and this 
was the reception he got ! 

He bit his lip savagely. What was the explanation 
of it all? She had always been so docile and devoted. 
It turned his blood to white heat to think of the apathy 
with which she had received his kisses — ^kisses that had 
been meant, too! His face darkened — it was the first 
time in his life he had ever known the slightest desire to 
kiss any woman, but she had looked so provokingly 
pretty in her white frock . . . 

Chris swore and lit another cigarette. It would be a 
very long time before he troubled about her again, he 
promised himself. 

He would have been furiously indignant had anyone 
told him that it was Marie's indifference that had fired 



186 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

his imagination, and wakened the desire to rouse in her 
some show of affection* 

It was not exactly pleasant to remember the years that 
were gone, through which she had so faithfully adored 
him, and contrast them with the steely feeling of her lips 
beneath his and the resistance of her slim body in his 
arms. 

Who was responsible for the change? He sought for 
it in everyone but himself. He was the most suspicious 
of young Atkins — ^he was near Marie's age, and had from 
the first shown a ridiculous interest in her. 

It was odd that he never seriously considered Feathers. 
Feathers was his friend and disliked all women; any 
attention he had shown to Marie had been out of ordi- 
nary courtesy, nothing more. 

Well, if this was the attitude she meant to adopt, he 
would soon let her see that he was quite indifferent. He 
would go his own way and leave her severdy alone. 
Hang it all, he had brought her home a bracelet, and 
written whenever there had been anything to write about. 
He would not have believed it possible for her to be so 
unreasonable. 

He comforted himsdf with the reflection that in a few 
days she would come to her senses. All thdr lives there 
had been little ups and downs of this kind, and she had 
never failed in the end to say she was sorry. 

She needed a firm hand — ^he supposed that all women 
did. 

Having argued himself back into a more complacent 
state of mind, Chris turned out the light and went, up to 
bed. 

His room was next to Marie's, and as he moved about 
it in his stockinged feet, once or twice he was sure that 
he heard the sound of stifled sobbing, though whenever 
he stood still to listen all was quiet again. 

Once he even softly tried the handle of the conmiuni- 
cating door, but it was locked, and he frowned as he 
turned away. 

She had been so different that Sunday afternoon when 
he asked her to marry him. It gave him an unpleasant 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 187 

twinge to remember the shy radiance of her face. He was 
very sure that she would not have repulsed him then had 
he taken her in his arms and kissed her. 

And his mind went back again to young Atkins with 
angry persistence. Young cub ! If he had been making 
love to Marie Celeste, he would break his neck for him. 

With singular blindness, he believed that the surest 
way to put things right between himself and Marie, was 
to ignore the fact that anything was wrong. 

When they met he was always smiling and cheerful, but 
he never asked her to go out with him, never showed the 
slightest interest in what she did, or how she spent her 
time. 

Miss Chester looked on in troubled perplexity. She 
loved them both, and did not know with which of them 
the real fault lay. 

She was afraid to ask questions, so matters were just 
allowed to drift, and whatever batties Marie had to fight, 
she alone knew of them. 

She spent a great deal of her time with Miss Chester ; 
she drove with her and walked with her, and patiently 
wound wool for the knitting of that interminable shawl. 

She had not seen Feathers since the day on the river, 
though she knew that he was often with Chris, and her 
heart was sore at the loss of her friend. 

She missed him terribly, though their companionship 
had only lasted a little more than a week, and it hurt 
her inexpressibly to hear the casual way in which Chris 
spoke of him — Feathers had been on the ran-dan! 
Feathers had lost sixty pounds at poker ! Feathers had 
had to be taken home from his club in a taxi. 

Miss Chester looked up from her work. 

" Chris, what is the ran-dan?" she asked. 

Chris laughed, and it was Marie who explained. 

" It's a slang word for dissipation. Aunt Madge." 

Miss Chester said " Oh ! " in a rather shocked voice, 
adding slowly, " I should not have thought Mr. Dakers a 
dissipated man." 

" Nor I," said Marie. 

"You don't know him as well as I do/' Chris said. 



188 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" And, by the way, Fm golfing with him on Sunday " 

Marie looked up. 

" To lunch at the Load of Hay ? " she asked quietly. 

Chris raised amazed eyebrows. 

" How ever did you know? " 

" I went there with him once. We motored out, and 
Mrs. Costin gave us lunch." 



" I forgot. We met Mrs. Heriot there." 

*' Yes ; so Feathers said. We're going to fix up a four- 
some with her." 

"Why don't you go, too, Marie?" Miss Chester 
said. " The drive would do you good. You haven't 
been out in the car since that day Mr. Dakers took you on 
the river." 

" Yes ; why not come along, Marie Celeste ? " Chris 
said. 

" I don't think I care about it," Marie answered. 

Later on Chris tried again to persuade her. 

He had followed her into the dining-room, where she 
was arranging flowers for the dinner table. 

" Why won't you come on Sunday? " he demanded. 

" Because I should not find it very amusing. I don't 
play golf, you know." 

Chris fidgeted round the room, jingling some loose 
coins in his pocket. 

" I suppose you'd go if Feathers asked you," he said 
suddenly — so suddenly that the hot color flew to 
Marie's face. 

" I don't know what you mean," she said steadily. 

" I mean that from all accounts you were with him 
every day before I came home." 

" Every day ! When he was in Scotland with you 
for a month I " 

"You split straws," he answered irirtably. "You 
know quite well what I mean." 

"He took me motoring two or three times. I 
was glad to go; I had not had a very exciting time. 

"You could have had friends to stay with you." 

" I asked Dorothy Webber, and she refused. 



1 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 189 

Chris colored a little. 

" I should not imagine that she is your sort, anyway," 
he said offhandedly. 

" She was my best friend at school." 

Chris took up a book and threw it down again. 

" Well, will you come on Sunday? " 

" No, thank you." 

He caught her hand as she passed him, and his voice 
was hoarse as he asked: 

" Marie Celeste, what the devil have I done to make 
you hate me like this?" 

He had not meant to say it. He had intended to 
maintain his dignity and indifference until it conquered 
her, but instead she had conquered him, and now there 
was a passionate desire in his heart to see the old shy 
look of adoration in her eyes and set the blood fluttering 
in her pale cheeks. 

She gave a little, nervous laugh. 

" I don't hate you ; don't be absurd, Chris. Let me 
go; I want to finish these flowers." 

" You can go if you will promise to come with me on 
Sunday." 

She looked up. 

"Why are you so anxious for my company all at 
once ? " 

He frowned. 

"It looks so — so rotten, our never being together. 
Feathers is always getting sly digs in at me about it, 
and it isn't as if there is any real reason ; we have always 
been good friends, Marie Celeste, until lately." 

So it was not tiiat he wanted her. It was just that 
Feathers had commented on the fact that they were so 
seldom together, and she knew how Chris hated to be 
talked about. 

She thought of Feathers with a little heartache. It 
seemed an eternity since she had seen him or felt the 
strong clasp of his hand, and quite suddenly she made 
up her mind. 

" Very well, I will come." 

Chris brightened immediately* 



190 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

''Thank yoa, Marie Celeste. I shan't tell Feathers, 
it will be a {feasant surprise for him." There was a 
little sneer in his voice, but Marie took no notice, as she 
went on arranging the flowers with hands that were 
not quite steady. 

She did not expect to enjoy hersdf by acconipanjring 
Chris. She hated Mrs. Heriot, and she knew she would 
feel out of everything and unwanted, but — ^and she knew 
this had been the determining factor — she would see 
Feathers. 

She wore her prettiest frock on Stmday, and turned 
a deaf ear to Mbs Chester's lamentations that it would 
be ruined. 

** The roads are so dusty — ^wear something that can't 
be spoilt, my dear child." 

" 111 take a cloak," Marie said. 

She was conscious of a little feeling of nervousness as 
she drove away with Chris. 

I'm going to pick Feathers up at his rooms," he said. 

He's got rooms in Albany Street, you know." 

" Yes, he told me." 

Her heart was beating fast as they drew up at the 
house, and she kept her eyes steadily before her as Chris 
left the car and rang the door bell violently. 

It was opened by Feathers himself, rea<fy to start 
and with his golf bag slung over his shoulder. 

** Ten nunutes late, you miserable blighter," he b^^an, 
then stopped, and his face seemed to tighten as he looked 
at Marie. " How do you do, Mrs. Lawless? " He went 
forward and shook hands with her formally. ''This is 
a pleasant surprise," he said quietly. 

"Well, don't waste time — get in," Chris struck in 
bluntly. He took his seat again beside his wife and 
drove on. 

Marie felt strained and nervotis. She tried hard to 
think of something to say. She knew it would be the 
most natural thing in the world for her to turn and speak 
to Feathers, but she could not force herself to meet his 
eyes. 

"You're very talkative," Chris said with faint sar- 



04 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 191 

casm, looking down at her. He glanced over his shoulder 
at Feathers. 

" Was she was quiet as this when you took her out, 
Feathers ? " 

Feathers laughed, and made some evasive answer. 
He tried not to look at Marie, but his eyes turned to 
her again and again. It seemed a lifetime since they 
had met, and it filled him with unreasonable jealousy 
to see her sitting by his friend's side as once she had 
sat by his, and to know that she belonged to Qiris — 
irrevocably. 

It had cost him a tremendous effort to keep away 
from her. Chris had asked him to the house a dozen 
times since his return, but he had always managed to 
avoid going. What was the use? He had had his little 
hour of life. There was nothing more to hope for. 

Mrs. Heriot was out in the road looking for them when 
they drew up at the inn. A faint shadow crossed her 
face when she saw Marie, though she was effusive in 
her welcome. 

" And Mrs. Lawless too ! How delightful — and how 
perfectly splendid you are looking, Chris ! " 

Chris walked on with her to the inn, and for a moment 
Marie and Feathers were left together. 

They both tried to think of something to say, but even 
ordinary conversation seemed difficult. 

It was only when Marie's coat slipped from her arm 
and they both stooped to recover it, that for an instant 
their eyes met, and she broke out, as if the words were 
formed witiiout her will or knowledge, "It is nice to see 
you again, Mr. Dakers,'* 

. Poor Feathers ! He flushed to the roots of his rough 
hair as he answered gruffly: 

" You are very kind, Mrs. Lawless," and then, with 
a desperate attempt to change the subject, *' Chris looks 
well, doesn't he?'* 

" Yes." She looked at him resentfully, but something 
in his face soothed the soreness of her heart, for there 
was a hard unhappiness in his eyes, and a bitter fold 
to his lips. 



192 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" He is not happy, any more than I am," she thought, 
and wondered why. She sat next to him at Itmch, 
and Mrs. Heriot and her sister took the whole of the 
conversation between them. They talked of golf till 
Marie's head reeled, and Feathers interrupted at last. 

"This is not very interesting to you, I am afraid, 
Mrs. Lawless." 

Mrs. Heriot laughed. 

"Mrs. Lawless ought to learn to play! Why don't 
you teach her, Mr. Dakers? She really ought to play." 

" I'm afraid I should never be any good at it," Marie 
answered. " I never could walk far, and it seems to 
me that you spend all the time walking round and round." 

Mrs. Heriot looked at Chris. 

" Your wife is a vandal," she told him. " I am sur- 
prised that you have not made her into more of a sports- 



woman." 



He would have spoken, but she rattled on. " Did 
they tell you how they ran into us down here ten days 
ago? Wasn't it queer? And what do you think that 
silly Mrs. Costin thought? — ^why, that Mrs. Lawless 
was Mr. Dakers' wife! We had such a laugh over it, 
didn't we? " she appealed to her sister. 

Marie had flushed crimson. She looked appealingly 
across at her husband, and was stunned by the look of 
anger in his eyes — anger with her, she knew. With a 
desperate effort she pulled herself together. 

" I wonder if people thought any of the women Chris 
played golf with in Scotland were his wife?" she said. 

Mrs. Heriot screamed with laughter. 

" That's the first time I've ever seen vou hit back," 
she cried, clapping her hands. "You aear, delightful 
child." 

Feathers pushed back his chair and rose. 

" Are we obliged to waste all the day here? " he asked. 
" I thought the main object was to play golf." 

Mrs. Heriot followed him with alacrity, and her sister 
glanced at Marie. 

"What are you going to do?" she asked. "You'll 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 193 

find it very tiring walking round with us, I'm afraid; 
the stin is so hot." 

" I should like to come/' Marie said. " You would 
like me to, wouldn't you, Chris ? " 

" My dear child, please yourself, and you will please 
me." 

He tried to make his voice pleasant, but to Marie, who 
knew him so well, there was an underlying current of 
angry bitterness. 

Was he jealous because of that remark about Feathers, 
she wondered, and laughed at herself. Chris had never 
been jealous of anyone or anything in his life. 

** I shall come then," she said, and walked out of the 
room. 

But before they had got half-way round the course she 
was tired out, and had to admit it. There were hardly 
any trees for shelter, and the sun blazed down relent- 
lessly on the dry grass. 

Mrs. Heriot and Chris were playing together and a 
little ahead, and Marie said to Feathers : 

" I'm going to stay here and rest. Please go on, and 
I will walk back to the clubhouse directly." 

They were passing a little group of trees. 

" It will be cool in the shade here," she added. 

Mrs. Heriot's sister called to them. 

" Now then, you two I What are you waiting for?" 

"You'd better have my coat to sit on," Feathers 
said. " Yes, I know it's hot, but there are heavy dews 
at night and the grass may be damp, and you don't want 
to taJce any risks." 

He had been playing without his coat, and he handed 
it to her before he went on to join his partner. 

Marie sat down in the shade. Her head ached and 
she was glad of the rest. She let Feathers' coat lie on 
her lap listlessly. What did it matter if she caught 
cold or not? Certainly nobody cared what became of 
her. 

The others had gone on over a rise in the ground and 
out of sight before Chris noticed that Marie was not with 
them. 



CI 



194 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

He called out to Feathers, " Where is Marie? " 

"She was tired — she is going back to the clubhouse 
when she has rested." 

Mrs. Heriot laughed as she walked on by Chris' side. 
Mr. Dakers is very devoted," she said softly. 
Devoted 1 " Chris echoed the word blankly. " De- 
voted to what?" he asked. 

She raised her eyes and lowered them again immedi- 
ately. 

" To your wife, I mean," she said. 

"To— my— wife!" 

She gave a little affected laugh. 

" My dear Chris, don't pretend to be surprised when 
everyone down at the hotel noticed it, even on your 
hone3mioon. Why, Mrs. Lister even asked me which 
of you was her husband — ^you or Mr. Dakers. So 
silly of her, of course, but it shows how people notice 
things. You know I always think that when a man 
dislikes women, as Mr. Dakers has always professed to 
do, in the long run he is bound to be badly caught" 

Chris turned on her furiously. 

"I think you forget you are speaking of my wife," 
he said. 

She flushed scarlet. 

" My dear boy, I meant nothing against her. I know 
as well as you do that there is nothing in it, on her side 
at all. I only meant that Mr. Dakers ..." 

"Dakers is my friend. I would rather not discuss 
him, if you have no objection." 

She saw that she had gone too far, and relapsed into 
silence. They both played badly for the remainder 
of the game, and lost the match. 

They were rather a silent party as they walked back 
to the clubhouse. 

Feathers looked round quickly. 

" Mrs. Lawless is not here," he said to Chris. 

Chris threw his clubs into a comer. 

"No; I'll go and find her," he said, and walked out 
again into the sunshine. 



C3IAPTER XVI 

"Better for both that the word should be spoken; 
Fetters, than heart, if one must be broken." 

MARIE sat lost in thought for a long time after the 
others had gone on. It was very peaceful out 
there on the links, and to-day there was hardly 
anybody about. 

She wondered why it was that, no matter how hard 
she tried, she always seemed to find herself left alone 
and out of everything. 

Did the fault lie in her own temperament, or was it 
merely that she was not physically strong enough to 
enter into things as other women did? 

She knew that she was totally unsuited to be Chris' 
wife, and, knowing it, wondered why it was she had 
ever loved him so much; why things so often seemed 
to happen like that in life, without any apparent reason. 

In spite of the subtle change in her feelings towards 
her husband, she never for a moment blamed him. It 
was Fate — one could not avoid these things, and she 
found herself wondering if Feathers would have been 
kinder and less selfish luid he found himself in similar 
circumstances. 

She looked down at his rough tweed coat lying across 
her lap. It was well worn and very shabby, much more 
shabby than any coat of her husband's. She smoothed 
the rough fabric with gentle fingers. 

It was odd how blind women were, she thought ; odd 
that an ugly face should so repel them that they never 
troubled to look beyond it and discover that it is possible 
for a heart of gold to lie hidden behind blunt features and 
an ungainly figure. 

She had made the same mistake herself. She had 

195 



196 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

adored her husband's handsome face and proved to her 
bitter cost that alone it was unsatisfying and offered 
nothing in exchange for all her love. 

What was to become of her? The bond of marriage 
which she had at first believed she could tolerate because 
she loved her fellow prisoner was now growing into a fet- 
ter, and she felt that she would give anything to be free 
of it. 

She had thought herself miserable when Chris was 
away in Scotland, and yet she knew she had been hap- 
pier then than she was now, when his presence in the 
house was a constant worry to her, and left her with an 
eternal sense of captivity. 

She had tried hard to get used to it, and failed Surely 
there must be some other way of escape for them both. 

Across the hills she thought she heard somebody calling 
to her, and she scrambled to her feet with a sense of guilt. 
Time had passed so quickly — she supposed they had got 
back to the clubhouse and were looking for her. 

Feather's coat had fallen to the grass, and as she 
stooped to recover it a litter of papers and odds and ends 
tumbled out of one of the pockets. 

Marie went down on her knees to gather them up, 
smiling at the motley collection. There was a bundle 
of pipe-cleaners and a half-empty packet of cigarettes, 
a bone pocket knife, some papers that looked like bills 
and a sheet torn from a bridge scorer with something 
folded between it — something Siat fluttered down to the 
grass — a dead flower ! 

The color flew to Marie cheeks as she stooped to 
pick it up. It was a faded blossom of love-in-a-mist — ^the 
flower she herself had given to Feathers the last time they 
drove this way. 

She held it in her band for a moment, her eyes a little 
misty, then she unfolded the page from the bridge scorer 
and put it back in its place, and on the inside of the paper, 
scrawled in Feather's writing, were the words " Marie 
Celeste," and the date of the day she had given it to him. 

Marie sat down on the grass with a little feeling of 
unreality. Why had he kept it ? She shut her eyes and 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 197 

conjured up his kind, ugly face, and all at once it was as 
if a burning ray of light penetrated her mind, showing 
her the thing he had never meant her to see. 

He loved her! She could not have explained how it 
was that she knew or why she was so sure, but it came 
home to her with a conviction that would not be denied. 
He loved her. 

How blind she had been not to have known all along ! 
A hundred and one little incidents of their friendship 
came crowding back to her, fraught with a new meaning 
and significance. 

He loved her, and his was a love so well worth having; 
a love that would make a woman perfectly contented 
and happy, that would allow of no room for jealous 
doubts or bitterness, that would be like the clasp of his 
hand, strong and all enfolding. 

She had often thought with faint envy of the unknown 
woman whom some day he might love, and all the time 
she was that woman ! 

The little dried flower had betrayed his secret, and the 
knowledge of it sent a wave of such happiness through 
her heart that for an intsant she felt as if she were float- 
ing on clouds far above all the bitter disappointments 
and disillusionments that marriage had brought her. 

For the first time in her life Chris no longer had a 
place in her thoughts. She gave herself up to the sweet- 
ness of a dream that could never be realized — the won- 
der of complete happiness. 

" Marie," said a voice behind her, and she looked up 
with dazed eyes to her husband's face. 

She had not heard his step over the soft grass, and he 
was close beside her as with trembling fingers she thrust 
the papers and odds and ends back into Feathers* coat. 

" I was just coming back," she said. She tried 
desperately to control her voice, but her agitated heart- 
beats seemed somehow to have got hopelessly mixed up 
with it. " Mr. Dakers left me his coat, and the things 
all fell out of the pocket — I hope I've found them all." 

She scrambled up. 

"Let me take it," Chris said. She made a little 



198 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

involuntary movement as if to refuse, then gave it to him 
silently. 

That old tweed coat had suddenly grown dear to her — 
more dear than anything else in the world. She averted 
her eyes, so she should not see the careless way in 
which Chris slung it over his arm. 

She walked along beside him without speaking, hardly 
conscious of his presence. Her thoughts were all in the 
clouds, her pulses were still throbbing. 

Somebody loved her — that was the great joy and 
wonder of the world. She no longer felt herself un- 
wanted. There was one man to whom she was not merely 
a tie and a nuisance. 

Then Chris said abruptly : " It's a pity you came if 
you're so easily tired." 

She started and looked up at him. 

" What do you mean ? I'm not tired." 

All her weariness had forsaken her, driven away by 
new and happier thoughts. 

He laughed grimly. 

" Feathers told me that you were tired and had stayed 
behind to rest." 

He searched her face with vague suspicion. 

Marie answered rather sharply : 

** There seemed no object in my trudging round behind 
you all; I was not playing and I did not understand ^e 
game." 

She quickened her pace a little as the clubhouse came 
in sight. She did not desire his company. She hardly 
considered him. 

They had tea outside in the shade of a tree. Mrs. 
Heriot was very quiet. She looked rather sullen. 

"Have you got a headache?" Marie asked sym- 
pathetically. She felt that to-day she could even be 
nice to this w(Hnan. 

Mrs. Heriot's sister broke in spitefully : " Headache ! 
Of course she hasn't. She lost the game, that's all, and 
it always makes her sulky." 

Mrs. Heriot flushed. 

"We'll take you on again after tea, and beat you,'* 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 199 

she said. "We never should have lost, only Chris 
slacked off." 

She shot him an angry glance. 

Feathers took no interest in the conversation. He had 
had one cup of tea, refusing an3rthing to eat, and sat 
back in his chair, his hat tilted over his ^yes, smoking 
hard. 

Marie hardly glanced in his direction, but she was 
painfully conscious of his every movement. Her thoughts 
all the time were picking out little incidents of tihieir 
friendship, translating them anew, hugging their mean* 
ing to her heart. 

She did not know that Chris was watching her closely 
— ^would not have cared if she had known. For once she 
had been lifted above the level of pain and disappoint- 
ment to which marriage with him had relegated her. 

Presently another man strolled up and joined them. 
He knew both Chris and Mrs. Heriot, it seemed He 
asked if there was any chance of a foursome. 

Chris indicated Feathers. 

" My friend here is going to play. Sorry." 

Feathers looked up. 

" I'm not keen — Fm quite happy where I am. Mrs. 
Lawless and I will keep one another company. Shall 
we?" he asked, glancing at her. 

Marie nodded. Her heart was racing, and she was 
afraid that every one would see her agitation- 
Chris laughed. 

"I dare say you'll be able to amuse one another/' 
he said, and presently Marie was left with Feathers. 

He sat up then with some show of energy. 

" Nice place here, isn't it ? " 

•* Yes — very." 

" I wish you would play golf, Mrs. Lawless." 

"Who do you suppose would teach me? I don't 
know the first thing about it." 

" I shall be delighted to offer myself for the post, if 
Chris has no objection." 

Her brown eyes shone. "Why should he? He 
would not care to teach me himself." 



% 



200 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

It seemed as if she saw Feathers now for the first 
time. He was no longer Chris' friend, the man she had 
hated for having brought her castle tottering earthwards. 
He was no longer even the kind friend he had been to 
her — ^he was the man who loved her. 

Her thoughts seemed to travel so fast ahead, weaving 
all sorts of impossible day-dreams for the future. 

" I'll speak to him about it," Feathers said briefly. 

His kind eyes dwelt on her face. 

"I thought you said you were tired," he said, sud- 
denly. " I don't think I have ever seen you look better 
in your life." 

She laughed and flushed. 

" Haven't you ? " She looked away from him across 
the green slope up which Chris and the others were 
disappearing. 

"You ought to have played," she said irrelevantly. 
" Why didn't you ? I am sure you would have enjoyed 
it better than sitting here." 

She asked the question intentionally, hoping with 
almost childish eagerness that he would say he preferred 
to be where he was. She knew it would be only the polite 
thing to say, although in her heart she would understand 
that in this instance he was sincere. 

But Feathers did not say it. He was tilling his pipe 
with tobacco, ramming it down into the bowl with care- 
ful precision. 

" I don't care for mixed games," he 'Said. " Mrs. Heriot 
always loses her temper so shockingly." 

"Does she?" She leaned her chin in her hand and 
looked at him with rather wistful eyes. She wondered 
what he would say if she told him about that little dead 
flower. 

He broke into her thoughts. 

"Has Chris told you that I am leaving England?" 

The words gave her a terrible shock; the color 
drained away from her face, leaving her eyes very pit- 
eous against its pallor. 

"Leaving — England!" she echoed the words in a 
whisper. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 201 

"Yes/* he went on, ramming tobacco into his pipe, 
hardly conscious of what he was doing. 

" You remember that I told you I always went with 
the tide. Well, three weeks ago it washed me up in 
London, and now it's washing me off again. I'm going to 
Italy." 

"Oh — ^what for?" She asked the question without 
expression. 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

" I don't know ; nothing in particular. IVe been be- 
fore, of course. I'm just going to take a stick and a knap- 
sack, and walk around the country, sleep anywhere — eat 
anything — and enjoy myself." 

" I wish I could come with you." The words broke 
from her with a little cry, and Feathers raised his eyes 
at last. 

He saw the pallor of her face and the distress in her 
eyes, and his heart began to race, but he only said very 
quietly : " You'd soon get tired of living my Bohemian 
life. When you go to Italy Qiris will take you, and you 
must do the thing properly." 

She seemed hardly to hear. She went on passion- 
ately : " It seems as if I must lose all my friends. It 
isn't fair! First there was Mr. Atkins, and now . . .'* 

" Atkins ! " said Feathers sharply. 

"Yes." She laughed recklessly. "He went away 
because • . . oh, I suppose I ought not to tell you, really, 
but I know you think that nobody cares for me — because 
I'm so uninteresting, but he did — he was only a boy, but 
he was really fond of me — and so ... so I sent him 
away ! And now you are going, too ! . . . I wish I could 
die ! " said Marie Celeste, in a tragic whisper. 

There was a long silence. Feathers' big hands hung 
limply between his knees, his fingers still clutching at his 
pipe, then he said slowly, as if he were carefully choosing 
his words : 

"If young Atkins could be man enough to — go — ^what 
would you think of me — if I stayed?" 

His voice was quite quiet, though a little hoarse, but 
its very steadiness seemed both to conceal and reveal 



202 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

more than an outburst of passion would have done, and 
Marie gave a httle stifled cry. 

Aiid Feathers went on, speaking in the same quiet 
voice: 

" You see, Mrs. Lawless, I know the world, and you do 
not ! I know what a mountain of regrets one lays up for 
the future if — ^if one forgets other things . . . Chris is a 
good fellow — ^until he married you I thought him the best 
chap in the world — I think so still, except that I cannot 
forgive him for having failed to make you happy ; but . . • 
but my failure will be worse than his, if I — if I try to 
deceive myself with the belief that I can . . . can give 
you what he cannot." 

" I have always been happy with you," said Marie in a 
whisper. 

Her cheeks were like fire, and she felt that she could 
never look him in the face again, and yet her whole 
desire was to keep him with her— ^to prevent him from 
walking out of her life, as she knew he intended doing. 

She felt veiy much as she had done that morning when 
he saved her from drowning — a terrible feeling of hope- 
lessness and despair, until tiie moment when the grip of 
his strong hands caught her. 

He had saved her life then. Was he going to let her 
drown now in the depths of her own misery? 

Once he went away it would be the end of everything, 
she knew. He would never come back any more, and for 
the rest of her life she would have to go on trying to 
make the best of things, trying to get used to having a 
bachelor husband. 

She knew that the silence had lasted for a long time 
before Feathers said gently: "There are some people 
coming, Mrs. Lawless!" 

She looked up then with fiery eyes. 

"Well, you haven't gone yet," she said defiantly. 
" Ever so many things may happen before you do." 

The day had been a failure, and the drive home was a 
silent one. Marie sat beside Chris as she had done be- 
fore, and her eyes were very bright as she looked steadily 
ahead of her down the road. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 203 

It was like looking into the future, she thought, as 
London drew nearer and nearer, and the many lights 
were symbolical of the happiness that lay in wait for 
her. 

She refused to believe that Feathers really would go 
away. Her whole heart and soul were bent on keeping 
him near her. 

She was very young, or she would have seen the 
impossibility of the whole thing as he did. Reaction 
was the power driving her. She who had hitherto had 
nothing found herself all at once with full hands, and 
she clasped her treasure to her desperately. 

Chris put her down at the house and drove arotmd to 
the garage with Feathers; he was a long time gone — 
and when he came back he was alone. 

Marie peeped over the banisters when she heard his 
voice in the hall below, and a faint chill touched her 
heart when she saw that Feathers had not come in with 
him. She felt like a disappointed child as she went back 
to her room. 

She had changed her frock to please Feathers. There 
was somebody at last who cared hov/ she looked. Though 
he would have said nothing, perhaps would hardly have 
glanced her way, she would have known that he liked 
to see her look pretty. 

Now that he was not coming she had lost all interest. 
Her face was listless as she crossed the landing to go 
downstairs. 

As she did so, the door of Chris' bedroom opened, and 
he called to her: 

"I want you, Marie Celeste." 

Marie hesitated. 

" It's nearly dinner-time; what do you want?" 

" I want to speak to you." 

One of the servants was coming upstairs, and more 
for appearance sake than anything Marie obeyed. 

" Yes." She stood in the doorway waiting. 

Chris had made no attempt to change wr dinner, 
though he had been in some time. He stretched a 



204 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

hand past her as she stood there and shut the door. Then 
he said abruptly: 

" I'm going away to-morrow, Marie. Fm sick of 
London." He did not look at her as he speke, but he 
heard the quick breath she drew, and knew it was one 
of relief. 

His voice was hard as he went on, " I want you to 
come with me." 

"No." She was hardly conscious of having spoken 
the word till she saw the sudden change in his face, 
but he kept himself under admirable control. 

"Why not? "he asked. 

She looked away from him. 

" I would rather stay here — ^that is all/* 

"But I wish you to come." 

She looked up. 

" You have never wanted me to go anywhere with 
you before." 

" I know — ^perhaps because I was a damned fool. Any- 
way, we won't argue. You will come with me to- 



morrow." 

it XT^ r*t :- T -f 11 J. 99 



No, Qiris, I shall not.* 

There was a tragic silence. 

" Why not ? " Chris asked again hoarsely. 

Her lips trembled, but she answered quite gently: 
" Because I would rather stay here — ^with Aunt Madge." 

She saw the hot blood leap to his face, and quite 
suddenly he broke out in blind passion. 

"With Feathers, you mean! SpesJc the truth and 
admit it! You want to stay here with him and knock 
about with him, as you did when I was in Scotland I 
I'm not such a blind fool as you think! It's Feathers 
who has changed you so ! Do you think I can't see the 
difference in you when you're with him and when you're 
with me? Do you think other people can't see it, too? 
You heard what that woman, Mrs. Heriot, said at lunch 
to-day . . ." 

Marie's lip curled contemptuously, though her heart 
was racing and she was as white as a ghost 

" Mrs. Heriot ! " she echoed disdainfully. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 205 

** And everyone else, too ! " he raved on. " It's got 
to stop, I tdl you. You're coming away with me to- 
morrow. Do you think I want my wife talked about 
by a lot of scandalmongering women? . . ." He broke 
off breathlessly, but Marie neither spoke nor raised her 
eyes, and the coldness of her averted face cut him to the 
heart. He caught her by the shoulders roughly. 

"You used to love me, Marie Celeste," he said 
brokenly. 

"Did I?" The brown eyes met his now. "You 
never loved me," she said, very quietly. 

He broke out again into fresh anger. He raged up 
and down the room, hardly knowing what he was doing. 
He hated himself for his blindness, hated her more 
because she could stand there so unmoved. 

"You'll come away with me to-morrow," he said 
hoarsely. " I insist — ^you're my wife ! " 

" Yes — ^unfortunately," she said, white-lipped. 

He stared at her witfi hot eyes. 

"Is that how you feel about it? You hate me as 
much as that? I know I haven't treated you as well 
as I might have done — I know I'm a selfish chap— but 
you knew that when you married me — you've always 
known it." 

She gave a little weaiy sigh. 

"What does it matter? I'm not complaining; 
you've always been free." 

"I don't want to be free; you're my wife. Marie 
Celeste, for God's sake . . ." She put up her hand. 

" Oh, Chris — ^please." 

It hurt inexpressibly to hear him pleading to her — 
he who had never done such a thing in his life — and yet 
..." I don't care ! I don't care at all ! " she was saying 
over and over again in her heart. 

He took her hand. 

"Can't we start again? I'll do my very best — I 
swear I will. I know you're too good for me — ^you ^ways 
have been. I don't deserve that you should ever have 
married me, but it's not too late, Marie Celeste. Come 



206 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

away with me, and I'll show you that I can treat you 
decently when I like." 

Someone knocked at the door. "Please, sir. Miss 
Chester sent me to say that dinner was ready half an 
hour ago." 

Marie drew her hand away quickly. The interruption 
was very welcome. 

" Let me go — ^please ! Aunt Madge will think it so 
strange." 

" In a momeot, Marie. Will you come with me to- 
morrow? We'll go where you like; I'll do anything 
in the world you wish. . ." 

She shook her head. 
I don't know; I can't decide now. Ill think it 



over." 



When will you tell me? 

" I don't know ; to-morrow — ^yes, to-morrow mom- 
mg. 

She made the terms to escape from him and went to 
her room and stood for a moment with her hands hard 
pressed over her eyes. 

The storm had come so suddenly. She wondered 
what had been responsible for it. Had Mrs. Heriot said 
an3rthing more — or could it have been Feathers himself ? 
She could hardly force herself to go down to dinner, as 
she was shaken to the depths of her soul. 

Chris talked ceaselessly during dinner. He drank a 
good deal of wine, and his face grew flushed and his 
eyes excited. 

"You're not going out again, surely?" Miss Chester 
asked him when afterwards he came to the drawing- 
room for a moment in his overcoat. 

" I am — just for a stroll ; it's so hot indoors." He 
looked at Marie. "Will you come?" he asked jerkily. 

" I'd rather not ; I'm tired— I think I'll stay with 
Aunt Madge." 

But as soon as he had gone she went up to her room 
and sat down in the darkness. A lifetime seemed to have 
been crowded into this one day. She felt that she had 
aged years since they started out in the morning. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 207 

Feathers loved her ! The knowledge stood out like 
a beacon light in the darkness. She knew what her 
life would be with him — ^happiness and contentment, and 
she did so long for happiness. 

He was a good man, and a strong man ; all her empty 
heart seemed to stretch out to him in passionate gratitude 
and longing. 

But she was married • . . She felt for her wedding 
. ring in the darkness and held it fast. 

She had married the man she loved, believing that he 
loved her. Well, he did not ! She was his wife in name 
only! Would there be any great harm if she snapped 
the frail tie between them? 

She sat there for a long, long time, tortured with 
doubts and indecision. What ought she to do ? 

Miss Chester came up presently to say good-night. 
She knew quite well that there had been some trouble 
between Chris and Marie, but she asked no questions. 

" Sleep well, dearie," she said as she went away, 
and Marie smiled bitterly. How could anyone sleep 
well, torn as she was by such miserable indecision? 

Did she love Feathers ? She could not be sure. That 
she loved him as a dear friend she knew; that she was 
always happy with him she also knew; but there was 
none of the romance and wonder in it that had thrilled 
her when Chris asked her to marry him. 

She wrung her hands in the darkness. 

" I don't know— oh, I don't know ! " 

Chris cared nothing for her. His outburst this evening 
had been partly anger and partly outraged pride. His 
was a dog-in-the-manger affection; he did not want her 
himself, and yet he would allow nobody else to have 
her. 

She got up presently and unlocked the door between 
their rooms, groping along the wall for the switch. 

She looked round her husband's room with unhappy 
eyes, and something of the old tenderness flowed back 
into her heart. 

She had loved him for so long, her life and his were so 



208 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

irrevocably bound up together. How could she take this 
step that would sever the tie once and for all ? 

She wandered round the room aimlessly, picking up 
little things of his, looking at them, and putting tfiem 
down again, and all the time the same imanswerable 
questions were going on in her mind. 

If she stayed with him what was there for her in the 
future? She could only see more disillusionment and 
tears and sorrow, and if she went with Feathers . . . 
Marie laughed brokenly, the tears running down her 
cheeks. How could she go with Feathers when he had 
not asked her? And suddenly she remembered the look 
in his eyes as he said good-night to her an hour or 
two ago. 

She had tried to believe that it was not farewell and 
renunciation that she had read in them, but she had 
known that it was. He was stronger than she — ^his 
heart might ache, but he would not dishonor his friend. 
He would walk away with a smile on his lips, and nobody 
would ever know what he suffered. 

If she tried to break down his strength she was not 
worthy of his love, and suddenly Marie Celeste hid 
her face in her hands and broke into bitter crying, which 
yet brought tears of healing to her heart. She would be 
worthy of him — she would not be a coward, snatching 
greedily at the one hope of happiness offered to her ; she 
would go on, trying to be brave, trying to make the best 
of things. 

She went back to her room, leaving the door ajar so 
that she could hear when Chris came in. He was very 
late — she heard the clock strike twelve, and then half- 
past, but still he did not come; and then — at twenty 
minutes past one she heard a taxi drive up to the door 
and voices on the path outside. 

She pulled aside the blind and peered out, but it was 
too dark to distinguish anything. Then the cab drove 
away, and she heard the front door opening below and 
the sound of steps in the hall. 

She crept out oh to the landing and looked over the 
banisters. She could see Chris, his hat pushed to the 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 209 

back of his head and the top of a cigar stuck jauntily 
into the corner of his mouth, laughing immoderately, 
and swaying a little on his heels, as he resisted the other 
man's attempt to help him off with his coat. 

Marie had never seen anyone the worse for drink in 
her life. Miss Chester had always brought her up in 
the belief that no gentleman ever took too much to drink. 
She would have been horrified if anyone had told her 
that most men of her acquaintance had, at one time or 
another, been helped home to bed. She stood clutching 
at the banisters, her face white with horror. 

She did not know the man who was with Chris, so she 
hardly glanced at him. Her feet seemed glued to the 
spot and her eyes never left her husband's face. 

And this was the man of whom she had a moment 
ago cherished such tender thoughts of forgiveness; this 
was the man for whose sake she had made up her mind 
to forego her happiness. 

Her overstrained nerves exaggerated the whole thing 
painfully. She fled back to her room and locked and 
bolted the door. 

She heard Chris come upstairs and heard him walking 
unsteadily about the room, and after a long time she 
heard him click out the light. Everything was silent 
then, but Marie Celeste lay awake till dawn, her brown 
eyes wide with horror. 

She had kept her idol on its pedestal with difficulty 
for some time now, but to-night it had fallen . . . 

Chris was down late for breakfast the next morning; 
but he looked quite fresh and brisk as she met him in 
the hall. 

" You had better ring for more coffee," she said. " I 
am afraid it is cold ; you are late." 

" I know ; I was late home last night." 

She did not say that she had heard and seen him 
and went on without answering. Presently he sought 
her out. His blue eyes were anxious, and he looked 
very boyish and nervous. 

" Well, Marie, what is it to be? " 



210 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Marie was writing a letter in the drawing-room^ and 
she laid the pen down and turned in her chair. 

Perhaps he read the answer in her face, for he took a 
quick protesting step forward. " Marie — ^you're not . . .'* 

She stood up, her hand on the chair between them. 

" I've been thinking it over, Chris, and — and I can't go 
away with you to-day." 

Their eyes met steadily for a moment, and she saw his 
lips quiver as if she had hurt him, but Chris knew how to 
take a hard blow. He shrugged his shoulders. 

" Very well — I know I've only myself to blame.** 

He turned to the door, but she called him back. 

" There's something else, Chris." 

"Well?" 

But now she could not meet his eyes, and her voice was 
almost a whisper as she said: 

" I wanted to ask you — it's . . . it's so hopeless going 
on like this. You are not any more happy than I am . . . 
Couldn't we — isn't there some way of ... of both of us 
getting our freedom again?" 

She did not dare to look at him as she spoke. Her 
heart was beating furiously ; there was a little hammering 
pulse in her throat that almost choked her. Then Chris 
covered the distance between them in a single stride 
and took her roughly by the shoulders. 

" How dare you — how dare you say such a thing to 
me ? " he said hoarsely. " Good God ! don't you think 
I've got any — any feeling? Do you think I'm such a 
blackguard as to — ^to listen to suqh a thing for one 
moment ? You must be mad ! " 

" I'm not — and you know I'm not. I'm tired — ^sick 
to death of living like this." Her voice rose excitedly. 
" Why, we may have to be together for years and years — 
twenty years, if we don't try and get free ! " Her brown 
eyes were feverish. " You hate it as much as I do. 
Oh, surely it can be arranged if we try very hard! " 

Chris was as white as death. This was the worst shock 
he had ever had in his life, and, coming from Marie 
Celeste of all people, it left him stunned and speechless. 

Until his return from Scotland he had been quite happy 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 211 

and contented, lAit since that first evening \»rhen she had 
so coldly repulsed him there had been a restlessness in his 
heart, a miserable sort of feeling that he could settle to 
nothing — a consciousness that things were all wrong 
and that he had not the power to put them right 

And the discovery that he had only himself to thank 
for it all did not help him in the least. In his blindness 
he tried every way but the right way to get back to his 
old contentment. 

Marie was in love with love, not with Feathers, but, be- 
ing a man, Chris could not tell this. He only saw the 
thing that lay immediately beneath his notice, and it told 
him that his wife had given her love to his friend. 

He had no more idea than the dead what was going to 
happen, but, with his bulldog obstinacy, he knew he had 
no intention of allowing her to go free. 

He cared nothing for scandal, though he pretended 
to. He hardly considered Feathers at all in the case. The 
one thing that racked him was the knowledge that he was 
in danger of losing something that had all at once be- 
come very precious. 

His lips twitched badly when he tried to speak. He 
felt as if he were fighting in the dark — as if there were 
some unseen foe pitting its strength against him that 
would not come out into honest daylight. 

Marie stood twisting her handkerchief childishly, her 
head downbent, and yet she had never looked less of a 
child in his eyes. 

The little girl he had known all his life seemed sud- 
denly to have disappeared, leaving in her place a woman 
who looked at him with the eyes of Marie Celeste, but 
without the shy admiration to which he had grown so ac- 
customed that he never thought about it at all. 

A great longing came to him to take her into his arms 
and tell her that she was talking nonsense, to kiss the 
strained look away from her face and the severe line of 
her pretty mouth into smiles, to tell her that they were 
going to begin all over again and be happy — that tihe last 
weeks had been just a bad dream from which he had 



212 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

awakened, but his pride and some new dignity about her 
prevented him. 

This was not the Marie Celeste he had known. She had 
escaped him while he had been looking away from her 
for his happiness. 

After a moment he asked stiffly: 

" Supposing — supposing it were possible — ^to do as you 
say — for each to get our freedom again . . . what would 
you do ? " 

She shook her head. 

" I don't know ! " 

Miss Chester came to the door. 

" Marie, I've been looking everywhere for 3rou — ^I've 
lost one of my knitting needles." . 

Marie flew to find it for her. She avoided Chris for 
the rest of the morning for she was afraid of him now. 
Although she had deliberately precipitated matters, she 
awaited the issue with dread. 

Chris did not come in to lunch, and, though once dur- 
ing the afternoon Marie heard his voice in the house, he 
did not seek her out, and at dinner time he was absent 
again. 

Though nothing was said. Miss Chester could feel the 
tension in the air, and late that night she asked hesita- 
tingly r "Is anything the matter, Marie?" 

" Nothing — no, auntie, of course not." 

But Miss Chester was not deceived, and her mind was 
racked with anxiety. 

Marie felt as if she were waiting for something great to 
happen, though what it was she did not know. Every 
knock or ring of the bell made her pulses race. 

That Chris was deliberately avoiding her she knew, and 
she wondered how long it would be before the breaking 
point came. She longed to get it over. 

Once she caught sight of herself in the glass and was 
startled by her pallor and the strained look in her eyes. 
A frightened look it was, she thought, and she passed 
her hands across them as if to brush it out. 

She stayed downstairs till Chris came in that night. 
She stood just outside the drawing-room door, her heart 



I 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 213 

beating apprehensively. Supposing he was the worse 
for drink, as he had been last night ? But she need not 
have been afraid. Chris was sober enough. He had been 
walking the streets for hours, beating against the invisible 
bars that had so suddenly appeared in his life. 

When he saw his wife his face hardened. 

" You ought to have gone to bed hours ago," he said. 

" I waited for you ; I want to speak to you ; I waited 
last night, too," she added deliberately. 

He did not look at all ashamed, only laughed rather 
defiantly. 

" And I was the worse for drink, eh ? I suppose the 
elevating fact did not do my cause any good." 

She did not answer, wondering what he would say if 
she told him what determinating factor against him that 
glimpse over the banisters had been. 

He leaned against the mantelpiece and looked at her. 

" Well, I'm stone sober to-night, anyway," he said 
morosely. 

There was a little silence. 

"What do you want to see me about?" he asked. 
" Only the same old thing, I suppose — ^the desire to be 
free." 

He took a sudden step towards her, tilting her down- 
bent face backwards by her chin. 

" Why did you marry me, if you hate me so? " 

She closed her eyes to hide their pain. 

" I was — ^was fond of you — I thought it would be all 
right — I thought you were fond of me." 

" I have always been fond of you." 

She looked up quickly. 

" You would never have married me. if it hadn't been 
for the money." 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

" It's not in me to love any woman a great deal," he 
said evasively. " I've never been a woman's man, you 
know that. There was never anything in that Mrs. 
Heriot affair, though I know you don't believe me." 

He stood. back from her, his hands thrust into his 
pockets. 



I 



214 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" Supposing we could get a divorce — separation — 
whatever you like to call it, how much better off are you 
going to be?" he asked after a moment *' What's the 
good of washing dirty linen for the amusement of the 
public?" 

The burning color rushed to her face. She had lived 
so much in the clouds since the moment when she found 
that little dead flower in Feathers' coat pocket that Chris' 
blunt words sounded horribly brutal. Chris, watdiing 
her narrowly, saw the sudden quivering of her lips, and 
his heart smote him. 

"Go to bed, Marie Celeste," he said more gently. 
" It's no use worrying about things to-night." 

He cared so little. The thought stung her afresh as 
she turned away. He would have been quite content to go 
on in the old, semi-detached fashion, with not a thought 
for her. 

Chris listened to her dragging steps as she went up the 
stairs. They sounded as if they were already walking 
away out of his life, he thought, with a little feeling of 
superstition, and he wondered if the day would ever 
come when she would cease to belong to him. 

He could not imagine his life widiout Marie Celeste. 
She had always been there, a willing little figure in the 
background of things. 

All his boyhood and early manhood were istudded with 
pictures in which she had played a part. 

She had seemed happy enough when they were first 
married, or so it had appeared to his blindness. What 
had happened since to bring about such a change ? 

He could not believe it was altogether Feathers. Ht 
did not believe that his friend was the t)rpe of man to 
seriously interest Marie. Feathers never took women 
seriously. 

He looked at his watch — ^not yet half -past eleven. 

He had not seen Feathers since they parted at the door 
on Sunday evening, and with sudden impulse he took his 
hat and went off to Albany Street. 

There was a light in one of the windows of Feathers' 
rooms, and Chris threw up a stone. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 215 

The window was open, and almost immediately 
Feathers' rough head appeared against the light. 

" Hullo! That you, Chris?" 

" Yes ; can I come up ? " 

"Of course." 

They met on the stairs. 

"Aticins is here," Feathers said; "but he's just off. 
Come in." 

Chris did not care for Atkins, and greeted him rather 
curtly. 

" Mrs. Lawless is well, I hope ? " young Atkins asked 
awkwardly, and Chris grunted out that she was quite 
well. 

" I haven't seen her for some time," Atkins said rather 
wistfully. 

Nobody answered, and he took up his hat. 

" Well, I'll be off." He said good-night and clattered 
away down the stairs. 

" Young idiot ! " Chris said, flinging himself into a 
chair. "Phew ! It's warm, isn't it ? " 

" It's abnormal weather for September," Feathers 
agreed. 

There was a little silence, then Feathers knocked the 
ashes from his pipe and stood up. 

" Well, out with it ! What's the matter ? " 
What do you mean?" 

That I know you've come here with something on 
your mind. Get it off and you'll feel better." 

He half-expected an outburst of rage from his friend, 
but none came, and there was a painful note in Chris' 
voice as he said : 

" It's— my wife ! " 

" Yes." It gave Feathers a little shock to hear Chris 
speak of Marie in those words. He could not remember 
ever having heard him use them before. It was usually 
" Marie " or " Marie Celeste." It brought home to him 
with sharp reality how far removed she was from him, 
how much she belonged to the man whose name she bore. 

Chris looked up, his eyes hot and faintly suspicious. 

" Damn it ! You know as well as I do that things are 



« 






216 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

an WToag b e t w e e n tas/' he said rofa^Aj, " And now die 
difnax has come and she wants to be free of me — 
sqyaration, dhrorce — whatever it b jou can gtt when 
joar wife hates joo fike poison.'' 

Feathers did not more. His nghr f^ct was a little 
pale, but his eyes betrayed nothing. Chris started np and 
began pacing the room. 

^Fm to Uame, I snppose," he said hoarsely. "I 
onf^ not to have married her, but it yrmrd the best 
thtflg to do at the time." 

A little contemptuous flash crossed his friend's eyes, 
but he made no comment 

Chris swung round with startlii:^ suddenness. 
What would you do if you were me? " he demanded. 
My dear chap! What an impossiUe question to 
answer! I know nothing about women — you know diat. 
You should be the best judge as how to settle jrour own 
affairs/' 

Chris crumped his hair agitatedly. 

" I'm hanged if I am ! I never was so up against it in 
my life. Perhaps if I cleared off abroad somewhere for 
a year . . ." 

Feathers interrupted quietly: 

''Don't you think you've been away loiu^ enough 
already?" 

''You mean Scotland! Pooh! That was notfiing. 
She wouldn't have cared about that" But his voice was 
uncertain, and after a moment he asked suspiciously: | 

" What arc you driving at ? " ' 

" Nothing. But I think, as I thou^t at the time, that 
it would have saved a lot of trouble if you had taken her 
with you. You were newly married It would have 
been a most natural thing to do." 

Chris colored, but he did not feel at all resentful. 
He was grateful to Feathers for his interest It was a 
relief to be able to tell his troubles to somebody. 

" I don't think it made any difference," he said after 
a moment. " It's not as if ours was an ordinary sort 

of marriage. I mean " He broke off in confusion, 

to blunder on again : " Marie doesn't care for me, and 



I 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 217 

that's the whole truth. I thought she did once upon a 
time. It shows my darned conceit, I suppose." 

Feathers said nothing, and, struck by his silence, Chris 
said with slow deliberation : " Sometimes, now and 
again, I've wondered if there isn't some other fellow she 
cares for — some chap she would marry if I wasn't in 
the way." 

He was looking hard at Feathers all the time he spoke, 
and his friend's ugly face was at the moment mercilessly 
exposed to the glare of the electric light, but there was 
no change in its quiet indifference, and Chris gave a 
sharp sigh of relief. 

He had not realized till now how great had been that 
vague dread in his heart. Marie might care for Feathers, 
but at that moment Chris was sure that Feathers cared 
nothing for her — ^perhaps because he wished to be sure. 
Feathers was scraping out the bowl of his pipe with an 
irritating little sound and finished it carefully before he 
spoke: 

" I'm not much of a judge of that sort of thing, but I 
should not think it at all likely. Mrs. Lawless does not 
know many people, does she?" 

"If you mean men — as far as I know there is only 
Atkins and — ^you." 

Feathers looked up. There was a little wry smile 
in his eyes. 

"You are hardly flattering to your wife," he said 
quietly, " if you think that either Atkins or myself could 
make an impression where you have failed." 

Chris laughed awkwardly. 

" I never was a suspicious chap," he said. " I hate 
suspicious people, but since I came home, well . . ." 
He turned and looked Feathers squarely in the eyes. 
" I've thought all sorts of queer things — things I would 
even hesitate to tell you," he added deliberately. 

Feathers laughed casually. 

" I don't want your confidences, my son," he said. 
" You started this conversation, you know, and I didn't 
offer my advice, but as we're on the subject I should 
just like to remind you that Mrs. Lawless is very young. 



218 A BACHELOR EUSBAND 

little more than a child, and — children like attention and 

amusement." 

Chris colored. 

" You mean that she hasn't had either from me/' 
he said. "I know you're right, but what the deuce can 
I do?" 

" As you insist on my mounting the pulpit," Feathers 
said, rather wearily, " I'll repeat an old chestnut of a 
proverb which says that it's never too late to be what 
one might have been, or words to that effect. Have a 
Scotch?" 

" No, thanks. I went home too merry and bright 
the night before last, and Marie was waiting up for me." 
Chris avoided his friend's eyes. " It's not a thing I 
often indulge in, you know that," he went on, gruffly, 
" but I felt like the devil that night." 

Feathers made no comment, but he thought of Marie 
with passionate pity. He could understand so well 
what a shock it had been to her to see Chris the worse 
for drink — realize just how she would shrink from him. 

The clock struck twelve, and Chris rose reluctantly. 

" Well, I'll be off." He hesitated, then added, with 
a touch of embarrassment : " Thanks awfully for what 
you've said. I'll remember; I'll speak to her in the 
morning, and see if we can't patch things up." He 
went to the door and came back. "You — er, don't 
tell her I said anything about it to you." 

" Of course not." 

Chris went home full of good resolutions. He lay 
awake half the night, plotting and planning what he 
could do in the future to make amends. Though he 
did not love Marie, it seemed a dreadful thing to him 
that they were in such mortal danger of drifting finally 
apart. He fell asleep, meaning to have a good, long 
talk with her in the morning and try and straighten 
out the tangle. 

But Marie did not appear at breakfast, and in reply 
to his inquiries the maid told him that Mrs. Lawless had 
a bad headache and was going to stay in her room. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 219 

" To avoid me, I'll be bound," Chris told himself 
savagely, and his good resolutions began to waver. 

What was the use of trying to turn over a new leaf 
when she refused to help him? What was the use of 
throwing an insufficient bridge across the gap between 
them which would only collapse and let him down ag^in 
sooner or later? 

It was a lovely morning, and he thought long^gly 
of the golf links. Twice he went to the 'phone to ring 
up a friend to join him, but each time he wavered, and 
at last in desperation he went upstairs to his wife's room. 

She was lying by the window on a couch, her dark 
hair falling childishly over her dressing-gown, and she 
started up in confusion when she saw Chris. 

''I did not think it was you; I thought you had 
gone out." 

" No." He saw the marks of tears on her face, and his 
heart gave a little throb of remorse. She was only a 
child, after all, as Feathers had said. 

" I am sorry your head is so bad," he said gently. 

She turned her face away. 

"It's better; I am coming down to lunch. I haven't 
been sleeping very well lately." 

Chris sat down beside her. There were so many 
things he wanted to say, but he had never been elo- 
quent, and this morning his tongue seemed more stupid 
than usual. 

It was only after some minutes' silence that he blurted 
out: "Look here, Marie! Can't we start again? I'm 
most awfully sorry things have gone wrong like this, 
and I know it's my fault. Last night I thought it would 
be the best thing if I cleared off and left you for a year 
or so. I thought perhaps it might be all right later on 
if I came back, but I've changed my mind, and . . . look 
here — ^will you forgive me and let us start again? " 

He laid his hand clumsily on hers, the hand that wore 
his ring. 

" There's no earthly reason why we can't be happy 
and get along splendidly," he urged. " I know I'm a 
selfish devil, but I've always been the same. But I'll 



99 
99 



220 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

try — I'll try all I know if you'll give me a sporting 
chance." 

He waited, but she did not speak, and he went on : 
"We've seen so little of each other lately — ^my fault, 
too, I know — I wish I'd taken you to Scotland with me." 

"I wish you had, too." The words broke from her 
lips bitterly. So much might have been averted, she 
knew, if only Chris had taken her with him. 

The color mounted to his cheeks. Even her voice 
had changed lately, he thought. There was something 
hard in its soft tone that vaguely reminded him of Mrs. 
Heriot. 

"It's not too late now," he urged. "There's lots 
of places you've never seen that I'll take you to ! Heaps 
of shows in London that you'd thoroughly enjoy. ... 
He waited eagerly. " What do you say, Marie Celeste? 

She did not Imow how to answer. If he had made 
this offer a month ago she would have accepted it gladly, 
but now it did not seem so very attractive. 

" We might give a few little parties," Chris went on 
vaguely. "Aunt Madge won't mind, or if she does — 
we'll set up a show for ourselves. You'd like that, 
wouldn't you? You'd like pottering about in a house 
of your own." 

She nodded. She could not trust her voice. 

"Is that a bargain, then?" he asked happily. He 
had so often got his own way with her that it never 
entered his head that he might not be going to get it this 
time. His fingers tightened over her hand. " Say it's a 
bargain, Marie Celeste, and be friends with me again." 

She turned her head slowly and looked at him. 

His eyes were very eager and anxious, but for the first 
time in her life Marie's heart was not at his feet, and she 
was not conscious of any desperate longing to drive away 
his anxiety and agree to what he wanted. 

"What are you thinking about?" he asked sharply. 

He was beginning to realize that it was not only her 
voice that had changed and the expression of her eyes 
when she looked at him, but the girl herself; that she 
could no longer be coaxed and bullied by him — ^that she 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 221 

was a woman with a will of her own in her soft frame. 

" I was thinking/' she said slowly, ** that I will agree 
to try what you suggest, on one condition . . •" 

His face brightened. 

" Anjrthing, of course ! Anything you like.*' He was 
sure that she could not be going to impose axiything very 
hard. 

It came, therefore, as something of a shock when she 
said: "I will do as you suggest, if — ^at the end of a 
month, we find we can't get on any better, and — and be 
happy • . . you will let me go." 

He echoed her words blankly. 

" Let you go ! What do you mean ? " 

The sensitive color flew to her face, but she answered 
quite quietly and steadily : 

" We could get a divorce — ^I don't think it is called 
that — ^but I know we could get a divorce — I — I've found 
out all about it." 

Chris sat staring down at the floor. There was a dread- 
ful feeling somewhere in the region of his heart, for he 
had never believed that she could be so hard and im- 
placable. 

She was not yet twenty, but she was calmly proposing 
to annul their marriage, if, at the end of a month, it still 
proved to be a failure. 

He put her hand roughly from him and rose to his feet. 

" You don't know what you're talking about, and I 
refuse to agree — I absolutely refuse." He began to pace 
the room agitatedly. 

Marie watched him with hard eyes, then suddenly 
she said. 

"If it's the money you're thinking about ... I don't 
want any. I don't mind not having any. Aunt Madge 
would let me live with her; we could live quite quietly; it 
wouldn't cost much." 

He turned scarlet. 

"The money — good lord! I've never gpiven it a 
thought." He swung round and looked at her with 
passionate eyes, and it slowly dawned upon him that there 
was something very sweet and desirable about Marie 



222 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Celeste as she sat ther« in her blue gown, her soft dark 
hair tumbled about her shoulders, and her brown eyes 
very bright in the pallor of her face. 

With sudden impulse he went down on his knees 
beside her and put his arms round her, holding her fast. 

" Don't be so cruel, Marie Celeste," he said hoarsely. 
" I know I've not played the game, but I can if youll give 
me a chance — I swear I can, and I will I It's the whole of 
our lives that you're so calmly proposing to smash up. Do 
you realize that? Have you forgotten all the good 
times we used to have together — I haven't — ^and what a 
little sport you were?" 

He saw her wince as if he had hurt her, and he went on 
eagerly, pushing his advantage. 

"Do you remember years ago that 3rou used to say 
you would never marry anyone but me when we grew 
up?" 

He laughed rather shakily. 

" You never thought it would come true, did you, 
Marie Celeste ? I didn't anjrway. But it has, and we're 
going to be ever so happy ... I swear I've never 
given a thought to any woman but you. If I've treated 
you badly, there's no woman in the world I've treated 
better. I know it's a rotten argument, but . • ." 

He stopped, choked by a sudden emotion, for Marie 
had broken down into bitter crying. 

Chris drew her down to his shoulder and kissed her 
hair. It felt very soft against his lips. He was sure he 
had conquered, as he thought her tears were tenderness 
for the past and joy for the future. He did not under- 
stand that they were only tears of sorrow for the dream 
that had gone so sadly awry. 

When presently she turned her face away he drew it 
back again and kissed her lips — ^he had never kissed them 
before. The only kisses he had given Marie Celeste in his 
life had been casual pecks on her cheek when he came 
from school or went back, and the few awkward kisses he 
had bestowed upon her since their marriage. 

She lay limply against his shoulder, too emotionally 
wearied to resist him, but her lips were unresponsive. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 223 



" Is it all right, Marie Celeste ? " he asked presently, 
and she said : " Yes — ^yes, I suppose so." 

He echoed her words with a frown. 

"You suppose so?" 

This vague acquiescence was not what he had wanted 
or expected. 

" I'll try my best— if you will." 

He kissed her hand. 

" I give you my word of honor." He twisted the 
wedding ring on her finger. "It's much too big," he 
said. 

He smiled faintly. 

" I've got thinner — ^that's why." 

" You've no right to get thinner," he said hurriedly. 
" I shall have to look after you and feed you up. 
Marie Celeste, we're going to have no end of a good 
time!" 

He was his light-hearted self once more. He felt quite 
happy again. It was surprising how fond he had 
discovered he really was of Marie Celeste since he had 
kissed her lips. He could not understand why he had 
never realized before how pretty she was. 

"We'll go away somewhere together," he said im- 
pulsively. " Where would you like to go? It will be a 
fine autumn. Shall we go to the moors — or Ireland? 
Would you like Ireland?" 

She smiled faintly at his impulsiveness. 

" I don't mind where it is." 

" I'd take you to Italy, only it's not the right time of 
year," he said. " The spring's the time to go to Italy." 
He laughed. " Feathers is off there soon, you know ! 
He doesn't care a hang about the proper seasons and all 
that sort of stuff. He just goes where he feels inclined 
and when." 

" Yes." Her face was averted. " I don't think I 
should care to go to Italy, anyway," she said. How 
would it be possible to try and turn over this new leaf, if 
Feathers was to be anywhere about? A little feeling, 
that was something like homesickness, touched her heart 
as she thought of him. Chris was very dear, very boyish 



i 



224 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

in his new humility and enthusiasm, but in her weari- 
ness she longed for something more stable, something 
more real and sincere. 

She turned to Chris with wet eyes. 

"But you can't make yourself love me/' she said 
sorrowfully. 

His face flushed and his eyes grew distressed. He 
drew her back to lean against him so that her eyes were 
hidden. 

" Perhaps I've always loved you — I don't know/' he 
said with sudden earnestness. " I can't expect you to be- 
lieve me yet, but . . . perhaps some day, Marie Celeste." 

He was doing his best, she knew, but his halting words 
fell vaguely on her empty heart. She had been right 
when she said that he could not make himself love her. 

But the wings of the past were wrapping them arotmd, 
and with sudden regret fulness for all she had dreamed 
and lost, she put her arms round his neck and kissed him. 

"Well, we'll try, shall we?" she whispered. He 
returned the kiss eagerly. She would see what a model 
he could be, he promised. He had not been so happy for 
a long time. He held her at arm's length, his fingers lost 
in her soft hair. 

" You're such a child to be anybody's wife I " he said 
laughingly. 

She shook her head. 

" I think I've grown up very quiddy/' she answered 
with a sigh. 

" Very well, then, I shall have to teach you how to be a 
child again," he declared. " How's the head ? Do you 
think you could get dressed and come out? I'm going to 
buy you a present — ^lots of presents, frocks and all man- 
ner of things." 

" I'll go out after lunch, but I don't want lots of pres- 
ents, really, Chris." 

"Well, we'll see." He stood up, still holding her 
hand. He felt as if a load of care had fallen from his 
shoulders. He wished he had tried this way of managing 
her before. He supposed he ought to have known that 
women liked to be kissed and made a fuss of. He really 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 225 

thought that she was as happy and contented as he was. 
He drew her to her feet and kissed her ^gain. 

" I'm glad I married you, and nobody else, Marie 
Celeste," he said. 

He went out and bought the largest bunch of roses he 
could find and carried them up to her room. He was 
desperately anxious to please her. She thanked him 
with a little empty smile. It was not roses that she 
wanted, or pearl necklaces, or pretty clothes. She wanted 
someone really to love her, in all circumstances and for 
ever and ever. 

But she meant to do her best to keep the compact 
^ between them ; so she took great pains with her toilet to go 
out with him, and Chris dutifully admired her frock. 

" It's a new one, isn't it ? " he asked. She had not the 
heart to tell him that she had worn it half a dozen times 
on her honeymoon, and that he had not noticed it. The 
car was at the door ready for them to start, when a taxi, 
laden with luggage, came swinging up the road and 
stopped at the curb. 

Chris frowned. 

"Who the dickens?" he ejaculated, then broke off 
as the door of the taxi opened and a girl came nmning 
up the steps towards them. 

She gave a little cry when she saw Marie. 

"You dear thing! Then you are in town! I was 
so afraid you might be away, but I had to chance it! 
I was on my way home, and then mother wired to me not 
to come, as one of the boys has scarlet fever ! So I took 
the bull by the horns and dashed to you on the chance 
that you would be an angel and take me in for a time! " 

She kissed Marie and held a hand to Chris. "You 
dears ! How lovely to see you both ! " 

It was Dorothy Webber. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

"Trifles light as air, are to the jealous, 
Confirmation sure, as proof of holy writ" 

IT was impossible to be ungracious. Marie took 
Dorothy Webber into the drawing-room while Qiris 
sent the car away. He stood looking after it with a 
frown above his eyes. It was rotten luck, Dorothy 
turning up like this just as everything had been going so 
swimmingly and he was conscious of a vague appre- 
hension. 

He joined the girls in the drawing-room for tea, and 
Miss Chester came down, bringing her eternal knitting. 

She was pleased to see Dorothy, for she thought she 
would be a nice companion for Marie. She said that 
she hoped she would stay a long time. She could not 
understand why Chris was so silent or why he kept look- 
ing at his wife with a queer sort of chagrin in his face. 

" I'm looking forward to another round with you," 
Dorothy said, turning to him. " Of course, there are 
lots of links round about ? '* 

" I'm going to teach Marie to play," Chris said. He 
had made up his mind that if they went away he would 
teach her and had been looking forward to it. He felt 
decidedly annoyed with Dorothy for having what he 
chose to call " butted in." 

He sulked about the house till dinner-time, then went 
to Marie's room as she was changing her frock. His eyes 
were rueful as he looked at her. " It's the devil's own 
luck, isn't it ? " he said boyishly. 

" What do you mean — about Dorothy? " 

" Yes. Why the dickens she wanted to come here> 
I'm hanged if I know ! " 

Marie smiled faintly. 

226 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 227 



" Well, we both said we should be pleased to see her at 
any time, didn't we?*' 

" I know — but coming just now ! " He took up one of 
her silver brushes and fingered it nervously. "I was 
looking forward to taking you away, Marie Celeste." 

"Perhaps she won't stay long," Marie said, with an 
eflfort. 

She did not know if she were glad or sorry that Dor- 
othy had so unexpectedly intervened. She had rather 
dreaded going away with Chris, and yet it had been a 
relief to know that at last there was some sort of an 
understanding between them. 

Dorothy monopolized most of the conversation at din- 
ner time, and addressed herself chiefly to Chris. She was 
a pleasant-looking girl, very brown-skinned and healthy, 
with straightforward gray eyes and fair hair, which she 
wore brushed back and screwed into rather a business- 
like and unbecoming knob. 

She talked a great deal about golf, and seemed rather 
surprised at Chris' lack of enthusiasm. She kept looking 
at Marie in a puzzled sort of way. 

During those weeks in Scotland she had formed her 
own opinion of this marriage, and therefore had not had 
the least hesitation in throwing herself on Marie's hos- 
pitality. A man who had been married so short a time 
and who could leave his wife at home while he spent a 
month in Scotland playing golf would certainly not object 
to a third person in the house. So she argued, with some 
reason, as she unpacked her boxes and settled down 
comfortably in the best spare room. 

" It's ages since I was in London for any time," she 
said. " I'm going to enjoy myself thoroughly. Marie, 
where do you buy your frocks? They make mine look 
as if they came out of the ark, don't they ? " 

Marie laughed. She had been very fond of this girl 
at school, but lately all her old affections seemed somehow 
to have shifted. The fault was in herself, she knew, so 
she tried her best to be nice to Dorothy to make up for 
the old feeling that was no longer in her heart. 



228 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 



" I'll take you to all the shops/' she said. " We'll 
have a long day to-morrow." 

"And where do I come in?" Chris asked quickly. 
His eyes were pleading as they looked at his wife. 

" Men always hate shopping, don't they ? " Dorothy 
chimed in. " They always look dreadfully out of place, 
anyway, poor dears." 

" Well, I'll be the happy exception to prove the rule," 
Chris declared, and he kept his word. He trudged round 
the West End with his wife and Dorothy the following 
morning, and did his best not to appear bored. He took 
them to lunch at the Savoy, and escorted them to more 
shops afterwards. 

" I think you've got a model husband," Dorothy said, 
when at last they drove home. " I never would have 
believed he was capable of it when we were up in Scot- 
land. It only shows how one can be deceived." 

But Chris gave a deep sigh of relief when they reached 
home. He went off to the dining-room and mixed him- 
self a strong whiskey. He felt irritable, though he tried 
manfully to suppress his irritation. What waste of time 
it all was, he thought — ^trudging round on hot pavements, 
in and out stuffy, uninteresting shops, when one might 
be out in the country or up on the Scotch moors. 

For three days he did his duty nobly. He was always 
in to meals — ^he took Marie and Dorothy to a matinee, 
and to dinner at the Carlton. 

"We ought to have had another man to make a 
fourth," he said to his wife afterwards. " I'll ask Feath- 
ers to come to-morrow." 

He did ask him, and Feathers refused. He had an 
appointment, he said, and would come another day. 

" What about Italy ? " Chris inquired over the 'phone, 
and Feathers said that he expected to go in about ten 
days' time. 

Chris told Marie. 

We ought to ask him round before he goes," he said. 
You write and ask him to dinner, Marie Celeste." 

She wanted to refuse, but did not like to. 






A BACHELOR HUSBAND 229 

"Very well." She was looking pale and tired/ and 
Chris* eyes watched her anxiously. 

After a moment he asked: 

" How long is Miss Webber going to stay? " 

" I don't faiow. I can't very well ask her to go, can 
I?" Chris mooned around the room. 

" I wish she'd go," he said inhospitably. 

Marie smiled. 

"I'm afraid you've had rather a dull week," she 
admitted. "Why don't you go for a day's golf to-mor- 
row. Take Dorothy — she would love it, I know." 

" I'll go if you come." 

" Nonsense. You know how tired I got when we went 
before. I shall be quite all right at home, and I do hate 
to know you are tied to the house all day." 

He looked hurt, and she hastened to add kindly: 
" It's been very good of you, Chris, and I do thank you." 

He laid his hand on her shoulder. 

" If you're pleased that's all I care about," he said. ... 

To Marie's surprise. Feathers rang up and accepted 
her invitation. 

She answered the 'phone herself, and the sound of 
his voice sent her pulses racing, and the hot blood rushing 
to her cheeks. 

" Do I have to get into war paint ? " he asked, and she 
laughed as she said that he could please himself. 

"Why haven't you been to see us- before?" she 
questioned 

" Because I knew you had company, and I haven't 
any company manners." 

"It's only Dorothy Webber — ^you met her in Scot- 
land." 

" Yes. . . ." There was a little pause, and before she 
could think of anything else to say he said : " Well, I 
shall see you this evening, then." 

" Yes." 

Marie sighed as she hung up the receiver. She wished 
he had refused to come, and yet she was longing to see 
him. She felt painfully nervous as the evening drew 
nearer. 



/ 



230 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Chris had driven out into the country with Dorothy to 

Elay golf, and for the first time for a week Marie found 
erself with a little breathing space. 

Chris' attentions had been rather overwhelming. 
He had done his best, she knew, and was grateful to him 
for it, but he left her rather breathless. She could never 
lose sight of the fact that his affections were forced and 
wondered how much longer he would be able to keep 
up the farce. 

She never gave herself a moment in which to think. 
She never looked forward, but lived in the present only. 

Chris had said he should be home at six, but at seven 
o'clock, when Feathers was announced, he had not re- 
turned. 

Marie went down to the drawing-room with a trem- 
bling heart. She had hoped that her husband would have 
been home before Feathers came. She knew that her 
face was white as she crossed the room to him and that 
her voice was unsteady as she said : 

** Chris hasn't got back yet — ^I am so sorry. He 
promised to be in at six ! I am afraid something has gone 
wrong with the car." 

" It's not very late," Feathers said kindly. " I think 
I am rather before my time. He is sure to be in di- 
rectly." 

Marie walked over to the window and looked into the 
street. The September evening was closing in rapidly, 
with rather depressing greyness. 

" I hope nothing has happened to them," she said 
faintly. She was not at all anxious really, but she felt 
that she must gain time to recover her composure before 
she could talk to Feathers. 

He watched her across the room with sad eyes. He had 
not seen her since that day on the golf links, and he took 
in every detail of her graceful little figure hungrily. 

She was wearing a white frock of some gauzy material, 
cut rather low, and her soft brown hair curled into little 
ringlets like a child's on the white nape of her neck. 

Was she any happier, he wondered? He knew that 
Chris had been about with her a great deal during the 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 231 

past weeky and he hoped with all his heart that things 
were improving between them. He longed to ask her, 
but was afraid. He knew that the only safe thing for 
them was to keep to ordinary topics of conversation. 

Marie dropped the curtain presently and came back to 
him. 

" What have you been doing with yourself? " 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

" Oh, nothing in particular. Yesterday I played golf 
with young Atkins. He asked after you." 

" Did he ? " Her eyes brightened. "I wish I could 
see him again." 

" He tells me he is going to America shortly. He has 
been in his father's office, you know, but they don't get 
on, and so I think it's very wise of him to clear out." 

"And you are going to Italy?" Marie said con- 
strainedly. "Chris suggested that we should go, too, 
but — ^but I don't think I care to." 

" It's the wrong time of year to see Italy to ad- 
vantage." 

" Yes, I know." 

She looked at him wistfully. So strong, such a man! 
Longing to know the perfect happiness of his love crept 
into her heart. 

There would be no half measures with him, she knew; 
no pretences. He would give all or nothing. 

In spite of what he had said. Feathers had struggled 
into evening clothes. They did not fit him particularly 
well, but they seemed to magnify the squareness and 
strength of his build. Though he was not so tall as 
Chris, he always looked taller, and, despite his ugly 
features, there was something very noble in the rough 
outline of his head and shaggy hair. 

" Where are they playing to-day? " he asked, breaking 
a silence that was beginning to get unbearable, and 
Marie said : ^^ 

" Where we went before — the place where Mrs. Heriot 
is sta)ring." 

" Oh!" There was something dry in the little mono- 
syllable that made her say impulsively: "I suggested 



232 A. BACHELOR HUSBAND 

it. Chris has been so unselfish lately, taking us about 
all over the place, I thought he deserved a holiday — 
he likes playing with Dorothy, you know." 

" Yes." There was the sound of a car driving up 
outside, and Feathers said, with obvious reief : *' Here 
they are, I expect." 

Chris came into the room a moment later. He looked 
at his wife anxiously. 

" I'm sorry, Marie Celeste," he said. " The wretched 
car broke down, and it took me half an hour to n^et it 
right. I hope you haven't been anxious about us? 
How are you, old chap?" 

The two men shook hands. 

" Where is Dorothy ? " Marie asked, and Chris looked 
away from her as he said, " I believe she went strain^t 
upstairs to dress." 

" I'll go and tell her not to hurry." 

Marie ran up to her friend's room, glad to get away 
for a moment. She knocked at the door, and, -getting 
no answer, turned the handle and went in. Dorothy 
was standing in the middle of the room, her hands over 
her face. She had made no attempt to change her frock, 
and she still wore her coat and the jaunty velvet cap 
with a jay's wing at the side in which she had started out 
that morning. 

Marie gave a little stifled cry. 

" Dorothy ! Oh, what is the matter ? " 

Dorothy started violently. She dabbed her eyes 
hurriedly with her handkerchief and tried to laugh. 

"Nothing! Don't look so scared! I'm only rather 
worried." She turned away to hide her face. **I've 
had a letter with rather bad news. No, I can't tell you 
now — ^it's nothing! Please, go down and I'll be ready 
in a minute. I'm so sorry we're late, Marie. The silly 
car went wrong." 

" I know. Chris told me. Dorothy, are you sure 
there is nothing the matter — ^nothing I can do for you ? " 

"Quite sure! Run downstairs, there's a dear; I 
won^ be a minute." She almost turned Marie out of 
the room. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 233 

Chris was coming upstairs as she crossed the landing, 
and he stopped^ looking at her in quick concern. 

" Anything the matter, Marie Celeste ? " 

" No, only — Chris, Dorothy is crying so ! She won't 
tell me what is the matter. She says she's had bad 
news in a letter." 

He went to his room, abruptly. 

" It's probably nothing ; I shouldn't worry.'* 

His voice sounded rather strange and unnatural, 
and Marie was puzzled as she went slowly downstairs. 

The postman had just been and one of the servants was 
sorting the letters at the hall table. Marie went up to 
her. 

" Greyson, were there any letters for Miss Webber by 
the afternoon post?" 

"No, ma'am — ^none! Only two for Miss Chester." 

Marie's brown eyes dilated. 

"There has only been the one post since the early 
morning, hasn't there? " she asked. 

" Yes, ma'am." 

"Thank you." She went on to the drawing-room, 
with a little feeling of apprehension. 

Dorothy had lied to her, then. Why? She thought 
of the strained note in Chris' voice as he spoke to her 
on the landing, and a nameless fear crept into her heart. 

Chris talked incessantly during dinner. Marie had 
never seen him so gay, and though she tried her best to 
kill it, the suspicion that he knew the cause of Dorothy^s 
distress, grew in her heart. 

Something had happened between them that afternoon. 

" You ladies are very quiet," Feathers said, turning to 
her, and Marie roused herself with an effort. 

Dorothy Webber was almost silent. Her head ached, 
she said; she thought it must have been the sun that 
afternoon. 

" You played a fine game," Chris told her. " I shall 
have to look to mv laurels." She did not answer, seemed 
not to have heard, and Marie asked, " Did 3rou see Mrs. 
Heriot?" 

" Yes. She and her sister had a foursome with us.** 



234 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

It was Chris who answered " She told me to give you 
her love/' he added with a twinkle, ** and to say that she 
should be in town to-morrow and would call to see you." 

It was in the tip of Marie's tongue to say that she 
would not be in, but she checked the words. After all, 
Mrs. Heriot did not matter to her. She was no longer 
actively jealous. 
' The dinner was hardly a success. 

"What's the matter with everyone?" Dorothy asked 
impatiently as she and Marie followed Miss Chester to 
the drawing-room. " Didn't you think we were all very 
dull ? " she appealed to the old lady. 

"I really didn't notice, my dear," Miss Chester an- 
swered complacently. " I have just worked it out in 
my mind, and I believe I shall finish that shawl in another 
three days." 

Marie laughed. " And how long has it taken you to 
work, dear?" 

" Nearly two years, but then I woriced slowly, and my 
sight is not so good as it used to be," Miss Chester an- 
swered. 

Marie took up a fold of the shawl. It was exquisitely 
soft and of the finest pattern. 

" It would make a lovely shawl for a baby," she said, 
and then flushed, meeting her aunt's eyes. She got up 
and went over to the piano, and began turning over 
some music. She knew the thought that had been in 
Miss Chester's mind, and her heart ached. Young as 
she was herself Marie loved children, and one very ten- 
der dream had gone crashing to earth with the ruins 
when her castle fell. 

Dorothy had Hung herself into an armchair, her arms 
folded behind her head, her eyes fixed moocQly on the 
ceiling. 

There was a softened, chastened look about her this 
evening. The masculinity which was usually her chief 
characteristic seemed to have gone, leaving in its place 
something of greater attraction. 

"Play something, Marie," she said suddenly, but 
Marie shook her head. " I don't feel in the mood for 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 235 

music/' She dragged up a stool and sat down at Miss 
Qiester's feet. Across the hall she could hear Feathers' 
voice and Chris' laugh, and she listened to both with 
a queer feeling of unreality, 

" What an ugly man Mr. Dakers is ! " Dorothy said 
suddenly. " I don't think I ever saw anyone so ugly 
before." 

The color rushed to Marie's face. 

" I don't think he is in the very least bit ugly," she 
said impulsively. " There is something in his face when 
he smiles that is far better than just ordinary good looks. 
What do you think, Aunt Madge ? " 

She felt angry with Dorothy. All her heart flew to 
Feathers' defence. 

" I always liked Mr. Dakers," Miss Chester said 
mildly. " He is a good man and a gentleman." She 
said the same thing of all Chris' friends. She could 
never see evil in anyone. 

Dorothy laughed. 

" Like him, yes ! But he's ugly, all the same ! " she 
insisted. • " He doesn't like me, you know." 

Nobody answered. 

" We had lots of little tiffs when we were up in Scot- 
land," she went on defiantly. " I always believe that he 
left Chris and came home alone because he couldn't 
stand the sight of me." 

" My dear child ! " Miss Chester remonstrated. 

" So I do," she reiterated. *' He told me once that 
^the modem girl was a horror. I think he thought it 
was disgraceful because I played golf all day long with 
Chris and without a chaperon." 

" Mr. Dakers isn't a bit narrow-minded," Marie said 
hotly. 

Dorothy shrugged her shoulders. 

" And I don't like Mrs. Heriot either," she said irrele 
vantly. " You never told me anything about her, Marie." 

" She is a friend of Chris', not mine." 

" Oh ! And his friends are not yours — eh ? " 

Marie did not answer. She had never seen Dorothy 
in such a quarrelsome mood. 



236 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

The men joined them from the dining-room and Chris 
came to his wife at once. 

"On the stool of repentance?" he asked. "Why 
don't you have a chair ? " 

" I'm quite comfortable, thank you." She leaned 
her head against Miss Chester's knee with a little snug- 
gling movement, and the old lady stopped in her work for 
a movement to stroke the girl's dark hair. 

" I've just remembered," she said, " that I've got 
some tickets for that Westminster bazaar to-morrow, 
Marie. Some of us really ought to go. I promised the 
vicar we would. Couldn't you and Dorothy just run in 
for half an hour ? " 

Marie made a little grimace. 

" I hate bazaars," she said. 

Dorothy looked across the room at Chris. 

" I think I ought to go home to-morrow," she said. 
" I've been here over a week. You'll all be sick to death 
of me." 

" Of course, we shan't," Marie cried. She was touched 
by the hard note of unhappiness in her friend's voice, 
and stretched out her hand to her. " Don't go, Dorotihy. 
They can't have finished with the scarlet fever yet." 

" I shall have to see. I dare say I shall hear from home 
in the morning." 

She excused herself presently on the plea of headache 
and went to bed. She shook hands with Feathers and 
kissed Marie and Miss Chester, but Marie noticed with a 
queer little shrinking at her heart that she seemed to 
avoid Chris altogether, and her thoughts went bade with 
unwilling suspicion to the moment when she had found 
Dorothy cr3dng. 

"Dorothy doesn't look well," Miss Chester said, as 
the door closed behind the elder girl. " I really think 
all this golf is too much for her. She ought to tsdce a 
rest and do something less strenuous." 

"Knitting shawls, for instance, eh, dear?" Marie 
asked tenderly. The old lady looked over her glasses. 
It would do her no harm," she said severely. 



« 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 237 

It was only ten o'clock when Feathers left, and Qiris 
said he would walk part of the way with him. 

" I shan't be long," he said to Marie. " But it's so 
hot indoors, and I must get a breath of air." 

She said good-night to them both in the hall, and after 
they had gone she stood for a moment looking at the 
closed door with a feeling of desolation. She had counted 
so much on this evening, and on seeing Feathers, and 
now he had gone — and nothing had happened, nothing 
been said ! 

She did not know what she had expected to happen 
or what she had hoped he would say, but she was con- 
scious of bitter disappointment as she went up to bed. 

It seemed as if she must have dreamed about those 
moments on Sunday when he had let her know that he 
loved her — that they could never have been real, and in 
her heart she knew that she was not satisfied. She 
wanted more than the little he had given. 

She heard Chris come in just after she had gone to 
bed, and her heart thudded nervously as his step crossed 
the landing and stopped outside her door; but he went 
on again, and presently silence fell on the house. 

And Marie fell asleep, to dream the old, terrible dream 
that she once more was drowning — that she was sinking 
down, down into bottomless depths of clear green water, 
and she woke, shivering and fighting for breath. Her face 
and the palms of her hands were wet with perspira- 
tion. 

She sat up in .bed and turned on the light. Only a 
dream f She looked round the room with thankful eyes 
and yet ... it would have been such a simple answer 
to all her troubles if Feathers had only let her drown that 
summer's morning. 

• • • • • 

" If you two are going to the bazaar this afternoon," 
Chris said at lunch next day, " I'll go and look Feathers 
up. He asked me last night if I would, but I didn't 
promise," He looked at Marie, " I'll come with you 
if you like," he said quickly. 

She laughed. 



238 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" Of course not ! We shan't stay long, shall we, 
Dorothy?" 

"We won't go at all if you'd rather not," Dorothy 
said. 

" But I promised the vicar," Miss Chester broke in, 
in distress. " I think you really must go, my dears." 

" Of course we will," Marie said. "If there's a for- 
tune-teller we'll have our palms read; shall we, 
Dorothy?" 

The elder girl shrugged her shoulders. 

"You don't believe in that rubbish, surely?" 

"I think it's fun," Marie answered. 

She was childishly pleased when, during the afternoon, 
they foimd a palmist's tent in a comer of the big hall 
where the bazaar was being held. 

" Do let's go in," she urged on Dorothy. " Of course, 
we shan't believe it, but it will be fun ! " 

She lifted the flap of the tent, and Dorothy reluctantly 
followed her. 

A woman sat at a small round table in the half light of 
the tent. She was not at all like the usual fortune teller, 
and she was dressed plainly in a white frock, instead of 
in the usual gaudy trappings which such people affect. 

She was sn^all and dark, with rather a plaintive face 
and large eyes, and Marie was struck by the extreme 
slendemess and whiteness of her hands as they rested 
on a little velvet cushion on the table before her. 

" We want to have our palms read," Marie said. She 
was conscious of an eerie feeling, and she looked back 
at the closed flap of the tent nervously. "Dorothy — 
you go first ..." 

" I don't believe in it," Dorothy said, hardily, but she 
sat down at the table, and laid her hands, palms upwards, 
on the cushion. 

The palmist spoke then, for the first time, to Marie. 

"If you will kindly wait outside, mademoiselle," she 
said. She spoke with a slightly foreign accent, but her 
voice was soft and musical. 

Marie went reluctantly. She would like to have heard 
what Dorothy was told. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 239 

It was only a few minutes before Dorothy was out 
again, her face flushed and her eyes bright as if with un- 
shed tears. 

" It's all rubbish," she said harshly, when Marie eagerly 
questioned her. "As if anybody believes in it! Are 
you going in? Very well, be quick. I'll tell you after- 
wards what she said to me." 

Marie went back into the tent. She had taken off her 
gloves and slipped her wedding ring into her pocket. 
The palmist had addressed her as mademoiselle, and she 
was curious to know if she would still believe her to be 
unmarried when she had examined her hands. 

She laid them palm upwards on the velvet cushion, 
and the woman opposite took them in her soft clasp, 
smoothing the palms with her forefingers and peering into 
the little lines and creases for a moment without speak- 
ing. Marie watched her curiously. Her first nervous- 
ness had lost itself in interest She almost started when, 
quite suddenly, the woman began to speak in a low, clear 
voice. 

"You are very young, but you are already a wife. 
You have married a man whom you love devotedly, 
but he is blind ! And because he is blind he has let your 
love waver from him to the keeping of another. You 
are proud! You have wrapped your heart about with 
pride, until you have stifled its best affections, and per- 
suaded yourself that you do not care." 

She ran her slender fingers along a faint line at the 
base of Marie's fingers. 

" You started with dreams — alas ! so many dreams — 
and they have forsaken you one by one. But they will 
come back." And she raised her dark eyes suddenly to 
Marie's pale face. " A little patience and they will come 
back — dreams no longer, but reality. You were meant to 
be a happy wife and mother, my little lady, but something 
has intervened — something has fallen across your life 
like a big shadow, and for a little the sunshine will be 
blotted out. . ." 

She broke off, and for a moment there was silence. 
Then she went on again, more slowly: "If you will 



240 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

allow your heart to govern your head you can never 
go far astray — ^it is only now, when you are trying to 
stifle all that your heart would say, that the shadows 
deepen. . . ." 

She smoothed Marie's hands with her soft fingers. 

" You have money — ^much money," she said " But 
your friends are few. You are shy, and you do not make 
friends easily . . . There has been one great moment of 
danger in your life — I cannot tell you what it was, but I 
can see the sea in your hand — ^and again in the future 
I can see much water ... It will come again in your 
life, and it carries on its bosom trouble and many tears, 
and . , ." She looked again into Marie's face. 

" You are trembling, Mademoiselle," she said in her 
soft voice. 

Marie smiled faintly. 

** I was nearly drowned once," she said. " I can never 
forget it." 

She drew her hands away. " I don't think I want to 
hear any more," she said. 

She paid double the fee and went to join Dorothy. 

" Well ? " Dorothy questioned hardily. 

Marie shivered. 

" It was rather eerie," she said. " But I don't believe 
in it. Shall we go home?" 

*' What did she say to you ? " Dorothy asked as they 
drove away together. " She told me that I had had one 
disappointment in my life which I should never get 
over . . ." She laughed. '* She was right, too I Not 
that I believe in fortune telling." 

Marie hardly listened. She was thinking of the palm- 
ist's soft voice and the touch of her hands as she had 
said : " I can see the sea in your hand — ^and again in 
the future I can see much water. It will come again in 
your life, and it carries on its bosom trouble and many 
tears . . ." _ 

She was not superstitious, but the words haunted her. 

Troubles and tears. Surely she had had enough of 
them. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 241 

She wished she had not gone to the bazaar ; she wished 
with all her heart she had not gone to. the palmist. 

. . . "You started with dreams — alas! so many 
dreams — and they have forsaken you one by one. But 
they will come back ... A little patience and they 
will come back; dreams no longer, but reality." 

She sat up with a little determined laugh. 

" It's all rubbishx-I don't believe a word of it," she 
told herself. " She fcnly said it because she thought it 
would please me." 

"We're just dying for some tea, Greyson," she told 
the maid who admitted them. " I hope you've got some 
for us." 

" Miss Chester is having tea now," the girl answered. 
" There is a lady with her in the drawing-room — a 
Mrs. Heriot." 

Marie stood still with a little shock. She had quite 
forgotten that Chris had said Mrs. Heriot would probably 
call. 



CHAPTER XIX 

""I love him, and I love him, and I love I 
Oh heart, my love goes welling o'er the brim ; 
He makes my light more than the sun above. 
And what am 1 1 save what I am to him? " 

MRS. HERIOT had quite failed to make a conquest 
of Miss Chester, for the old lady considered that 
every woman who used paint and powder was a 
hussy. There was a very formal tea progressing in the 
drawing-room when Marie entered. 

Mrs. Heriot was genuinely glad to see her as she had 
found conversation uphill work with Miss Chester. She 
kissed Marie eflfusively. 

" I suppose Chris forgot to tell you I was calling," she 
said. " Men are so forgetful." 

" He did tell me," Marie answered, " and I am afraid 
it was I who forgot. I am so sorry. Won't you have 
some more tea? " 

Dorothy came in, and she and Mrs. Heriot started a 
passage-at-arms immediately. They were too much 
alike ever to agree, and Marie was relieved when Mrs. 
Heriot said she must go. 

*' Come and see me off," she whispered to Marie as she 
took her departure. " I want to tell you something." 

Marie went reluctantly. She did not wish for any 
confidences from Mrs. Heriot, but apparently she was to 
be given no choice in the matter, for as soon as the draw- 
ing-room door had closed behind them Mrs. Heriot said 
in a mysterious voice : " Is there a room where we can 
be undisturbed for a moment? I have something very 
important to tell you." 

Marie smiled nervously. 

" Nobody wrill hear us here," she said " I think *' 

But Mrs. Heriot insisted, and Marie led the way into the 

342 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 243 

library, which had been turned into a sort of smoking- 
room for Chris since their marriage. 

Mrs. Heriot shut the door carefully, then, turning, she 
asked with dramatic intensity: 

" Mrs. Lawless, who is this Miss Webber ? " 

Marie stared at her. 

" Dorothy Webber ? She is my friend ; we were at 
school together." 

" My poor child ! If you think she is your friend you 
are being dreadfully deceived-^readfuUy." 

" I don't know what you mean." 

Mrs. Heriot dabbed her eyes to wipe away imaginary 
tears. 

" I hate to see people deceived," she said. " I hate 
people who make scandal and mischief. I am only 
telling you for your own sake and because you and I 
have always been friends; but yesterday — down on the 
golf links " 

Marie broke in with pale lips : 

" Mrs. Heriot, I would much rather you said no more. 
It is of no interest to me — I beg of you, please . . ." 

But Mrs. Heriot was enjoying herself too much to 
stop. She had always disliked Marie, and she hated Dor- 
othy because she had appeared to be on more friendly 
terms with Chris than she herself. She went on, re- 
fusing to be silenced. 

" You ought to turn her out of the house ! She is a 
false friend I Why, I saw her — and my sister saw her — 
with your husband's arms round her! Crying — ^in his 
arms ! I hate having to tell you, but I thought, and my 
sister thought, that it was onljr right you should know." 
She broke off, looking at Mane's stony face with faintly 
malicious eyes. " Men are so weak, poor dears ; how 
can one blame them ! " she went on. " It's the women, 
with their subtle cleverness." She did not add that she 
had tried all her own wiles on Chris with humiliating 
failure. 

"I am so sorry for you," she pursued softly, "but 
you should really insist that she leave the house." 

Marie walked past her and opened the door. 



244 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 



" Please go," she saiA 

"But, Mrs. Lawless—" 

" Please go/' Marie said again. 

" Oh, well, of course, if you wish it ! " Mrs. Heriot 
passed her jauntily and went out into the hall, just as 
Chris opened the front door and came in. 

Mrs. Heriot smiled and held out her hand. 

" I was so afraid I should have to run away without 
seing you," she said. " We have had such a delightful 
afternoon. Where have you been, you bad man ! " 

Chris made some vague answer. His eyes had gone 
past her to where his wife stood at the study door. She 
was very pale but quite self-possessed, and she even 
smiled faintly as she met his eyes. 

" Mrs. Heriot is just going," she said clearly. " Per- 
haps you will see her out, Chris." 

She went back to the library, and stood staring before 
her with blank eyes. She had always hated Mrs. Heriot 
and distrusted her, but something told her that this 
time, at all events, the widow had spoken the truth. 
The facts seemed to fit so completely into the chain of 
last night's events— Dorothy's tears, Chris' pre-occupa- [ 

tion, and her own instinctive feeling that all was not ^ 

right. 

She heard Chris close the front door and come into the ^ 

room behind her, and she forced herself to turn. 

" Dorothy and Aunt Madge are in the drawing-room," 
she said stiffly. He barred the way when she would 
have passed him. 

" Well, there is no hurry to join them, Is there? How 
did you get on at the bazaar this afternoon? " 

" We only stayed a little while. We had our fortunes 
told." 

" Silly child ! What did they tell you ? " 

"Oh . . . lots of things! Nothing that I believe, 
though." 

She stood apathetically with his arm round her. She 
longed to tear herself from him, but she was afraid that 
once she gave way to the storm of passionate anger that 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 245 

was rending her she would never be able to control her- 
self. 

" I was sorry afterwards that I did not come with 
you," Chris said. " Feathers wouldn't come out. He's 
packing — ^he's oif the day after to-morrow." 

" The day after to-morrow ? " 

" Yes — something has happened to make him change 
his mind, I suppose. He's going, anyway." 

Marie's heart felt like a stone, though every nerve in 
her body was throbbing and burning at fever point. 

Feathers was going! After to-morrow she would not 
be able to get to him, no matter how passionately she 
longed to do so. 

This man whose arms were about her now cared noth- 
ing for her. He had lied to her, and pretended and. de- 
ceived her. She felt that she hated him. 

" What's the matter, Marie Celeste ? " Chris asked, 
abruptly. " Aren't you well ? You look so white." 

"Do I? It's nothing; I'm quite well." She moved 
past him, and he made no effort to stop her, but she 
knew that his eyes were following her as she went up- 
stairs. 

What did she mean to do ? She did not know. Possible 
and impossible plans flitted through her mind. First 
she thought she would tell Chris that she had found out 
about Dorothy — ^then that she wojild not tell him, would 
not stoop to let him think she cared. 

Did she care? She did not know. Her whole being 
was in the throes of some new, strange passion. 

Perhaps even up in Scotland he had made love to 
Dorothy, and that was why he had stayed so long. 
Perhaps he had known that she was coming to London, 
and had even asked her to the house! Marie hid her 
face. 

She would not stay with him. She would go away — 
she would go away with Feathers, if he would take her. 

She longed for him as a homesick child longs for its 
father. He would be kind to her, he would understand. 

Dorothy came tapping at the door. She held an 
open telegram in her hand. 



246 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" Marie, I've got to go home." She gave her the 
message to read without another word. 

Marie took it mechanically, but the words danced 
meaninglessly before her eyes: 

" Ronnie died this morning. Come at once." 

Ronnie was Dorothy's brother, she knew. She looked 
at the girl's white face and quivering lips, but she felt 
no pity for her. 

" I'm sorry — ^so sorry," she said, but the words were 
meaningless. 

She went with Dorothy to her room and helped her 
pack. She telephoned for the car and told Miss Chester. 

" Someone must go with her ; she ought not to travel 
alone," the old lady said, in distress. " Surely Chris 
will go. It is only kind." 

Marie's face burned. Oh, yes, there was no doubt 
Chris would go — ^would be glad to go. She heard Miss 
Chester make the suggestion to him, and held her breath 
while she waited for him to answer. 

If he agreed she would know that he was guilty. If he 
refused there would be just a hope that Mrs. Heriot had 
lied. 

But Chris turned to her. 

"Would you like me to go, Marie?" 

She hated him, because he left it for her to settle. She 
could not trust herself to look at him. 

" Aunt Madge thinks^someone should go, and I can't," 
she said. He agreed hastily. 

" Of course, you can't ; I will go, if you wish it. I 
shan't be able to get back till to-morrow," he said. " It 
will be too late to catch a train back to-night." 

Marie did not answer, and he went away. She gave 
him no chance to say good-bye to her. He kissed her 
cheek hurriedly before he followed Dorothy to the wait- 
ing car, and he looked back anxiously as he closed the 
door. 

" I'll be back as soon as possible to-morrow," he said. 

Marie went back to Miss Chester without answering. 

" That poor child," the old lady said sadly. " What 
a trouble for her ! Did you know the brother, Marie ? " 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 247 

" I saw him once. He was a nice boy," Marie said 
apathetically. She could remember Ronnie Webber well. 
He had had a snub, freckled nose and twinkly eyes. 

It seemed impossible that he could be dead. She wished 
she could feel more sorry. 

The evening seemed interminable. 

" Sit down and read a book, child," Miss Chester said 
once. "Don't wander about the house like that! I 
know you must be upset, but it's no use taking trouble too 
much to heart." 

Marie looked at her, hardly listening. 

" I think I'll ring Mr. Dakers up," she said. 

Miss Chester's eyes grew anxious. 

" I should not, my dear," she said. " Chris told mc 
that he was very busy packing. He is going away the 
day after to-morrow." 

'* I know ; but I should like to see him before he goes." 

She rang Feathers up, but he was out and not expected 
in till late. Fate seemed against her at every turn. 

"I must see him again; I must!" she told her«elf 
feverishly as she went to bed. She sat at the open win- 
dow for a long time looking into the darkness. Another 
forty-eight hours and he would be miles away. She 
thought of all the pictures she had seen of Florence and 
Venice, and wondered what it would be like to visit them 
with the man one loved. 

Chris had oifered to take her there, but she did not 
want to go with Chris — ^he did not care for her ! He had 
lied to her and deceived her. She lay awake for hours, 
staring through the open window at a single star that 
shone like a diamond in the dark sky. 

Where was Chris now, and what was he doing! She 
tried to believe that she did not care; tried to keep 
her thoughts focussed on Feathers, but they strayed back 
again and again to her husband. 

Little forgotten incidents of the past danced before her 
eyes torturingly — Chris in his first Eton suit; Chris 
when he was captain of the school eleven, swaggering 
about on the green; Chris coming home for Christ- 
mas, a little shy and superior; Chris bullying her. 



^ 



248 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

and teasing her, and finally bu}ring his complete forgive- 
ness by a kiss snatched under the mistletoe. She had 
loved him so much — ^had always been so ready to forgive 
and forget. Tears lay on her cheeks because she Imew 
she was no longer ready to do so ; tears of self-pity — shed 
in mourning over the days that were gone. She was a 
child no longer ; she was a grown woman looking back on 
her childhood. 

It was getting light when she fell asleep, and it was 
late when the maid roused her. 

" I came before, but you were sleeping so sweetly I did 
not like to wake you,'' she apologized. Marie got up and 
dressed with a curious feeling of finality. Everjrthing 
was at an end now ; she would bear no more. 

In the middle of the morning a wire came from Chris 
to sa^ he would be at home to dinner that evening. 

Miss Chester was dining out, and Marie knew she 
would have to meet him alone, but she did not care. She 
welcomed anything that hurried the ending towards 
which she was drifting. Each moment seemed like the 
snapping of another link in the chain of her bondage. 

Chris arrived earlier than he expected. It was only 
five o'clock when she heard his key in the door and his 
step in the hall. 

She was in her room and heard him call to her, but 
she did not answer, and she heard him question the maid, 
before he came running up the stairs. 

Her door was open and he saw her at once, standing 
by the window, but she did not look round, even when 
he shut the door and went over to her. 

"Marie Celeste." There was an eager note in his 
voice, and he would have taken her in his arms, but she 
turned, holding him away. 

" No — ^please, we don't want to pretend any more." 

He fell back a step, the eagerness dying from his face. 

"What do you mean? "WTiat has happened?" 

"Nothing — except that I know — ^about you and 
Dorothy." She put her hands behind her, gripping the 
window sill to steady herself as she went on : " I'm not 
going to make a scene. I know how you hate them, and I 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 249 

don't blame you. I don't think cither of us is to blame ; 
but — I've finished, and that's all ... If you won't go 
away from the house, I will, and I don't ever want to see 
you again." 

She felt as if she were listening to the words of some- 
one else — Glistening with cool criticism, but she went on 
steadily: 

" We've tried, as you wished, and it's failed. I can go 
away quietly, and nobody need know much about it." 
She raised her eyes to his stunned face for the first time. 

" It's no use arguing about it. My mind is made up. 
Oh, if only you would go away and leave me ! " 

For a moment there was profound silence, then Chris' 
tall figure swayed a little towards her, and he caught her 
arms in a grip that hurt. 

" Who told you ? And what do you know ? " She 
hardly recognized his voice in its choked passion. " It's 
damned lies, whatever it is ! I swear to you if I never 
speak again ..." ^ ^ 

She turned her face away with a little disdamful ges- 
ture . 

** I don't want to hear — ^it's all so useless. I've said that 
I don't blame you — and I mean it. You're quite free to 
love whom you like." 

He broke into rough laughter. 

"Love! You're talking like a child 1 Who's been 
telling you such infernal lies? . . . Was it Dorothy 
herself? " She did not answer, and he shook her in his 
rage and despair. She answered then, breathlessly: 

" No." 

"Who then?" He waited. "Mrs. Heriot?" he de- 
manded. 

She looked at him scornfully. 

" Yes, if you must know." 

He almost flung her from him. 

"And you believe what that woman says! She's a 
liar, and always has been! She tried the same low- 
down game on me — only yesterday. She told me that 
there was something between you and Dakers, and I 
threatened to wring her neck if she ever dared to repeat 



250 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

the lie again . . ." Marie raised her head, and her chedcs 
were fiery red. It gave her a fierce delight to feel that 
perhaps at last she had the power to hurt him. 

" It isn't a lie ! " she said, clearly. " I love him." 

A cruel shaft of light fell through the window, on the 
deathly whiteness of Chris' face as he stood helplessly 
staring at his wife. Marie had never seen agony in a 
man's face before, but she saw it now, and she averted 
her eyes with a little shiver. 

*' It's better you should know the truth," she said at 
last in a whisper. " I wanted to tell you before, but I 
was afraid " 

"And — Dakers?" She hardly recognized her hus- 
band's voice as he asked the hoarse question, and it hurt 
her to hear that he no longer spoke of his friend by the 
well-known nickname. 

She shook her head. 

"He doesn't know; he's never said one word to me 
that you, or anyone else, could not hear . . ." She 
clasped her hands together passionately. " I wish he 
had ! " she said chokingly. " I tried to make him, but 
it was no use . . ." She looked at Chris with feverish 
eyes. " It sounds dreadful, doesn't it ? " she said pit- 
eously. " I should think it did if I heard anyone else say 
it. But it's the truth. I would go to Italy with him to- 
morrow if he would take me." 

Chris stood like a man turned to stone. Then suddenly 
he fell on his knees beside her, clasping her in his shak- 
ings arms. 

" No, no, my dear ! my dear ! You don't know what 
you are saying. I'll forget it all and take you away. 
You're ill, Marie Celeste. I've been a brute to you, I 
know, but I don't deserve this." He took her hands, such 
cold little hands they were, and pressed them to his face. 
" I love you, too," he said brokenly. " I think I must 
always have loved you, only I'm such a selfish swine . . . 
Marie Celeste, for God's sake say you didn't mean it ? I 
love you ! I'll give my life to make you happy. Say it 
isn't true — that you've just done it to torture me — ^to 
ptmish me?" 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 251 

She tried to disengage her hands from his, but he held 
them fast He went on pleading, praying, begging her, 
but she listened apathetically, her eyes averted from his 
bowed head. 

She did not believe a word he was saying. The wall 
of her pride deafened her to the sincerity of his broken 
words. Her one emotion was the fierce, triumphant 
gladness that at last she could make him suffer as once he 
had made her. 

Perhaps somewhere in a comer of that room the ghost 
of the child Marie Celeste stood weeping for the tragedy 
of it all — weeping because the woman Marie Celeste could 
so harden her heart to the grief of the man who had once 
been her idol. 

Then suddenly Chris released her and stood up. His 
face was like gray marble as he took hers between his 
hands and looked down into her brown eyes. 

" Is it — the truth, Marie Celeste ? " he asked hoarsely. 
" Tell me the truth— that's all." 

And Marie gave a little choking sound like a spb, and 
the lids fell over here eyes as she whispered: 

" I have— told you." 

That was all. Chris let her go. He fell back a step, his 
arms hanging limply at his sides. He was beaten and he 
knew it. No explanation he could make would be of any 
avail. She had shut him out of her heart for ever, and — 
for such is the tragedy of life — it was only when it was 
too late that he knew how much he loved her. 

It seemed a long time before he asked : 

" Well — ^what do you want me to do ? " 

She shook her head. 

" I don't know," she said in a frightened whisper. 

She had burned her boats, and her whole being was 
shaken by the irrevocable act. 

She kept the thought of Feathers before her eyes. 
She clung to the thought of the happiness he could give 
her. She never heard the warning voice that whispered 
to her of its impossible madness. 

"Does — ^Aunt Madge know?" Chris asked again. 



\ 



i 



252 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

and she shook her head, tears welling to her tyes for the 
first time. 

"No— how could I tell her?" 

He turned to the door. He was like a man walking 
in his sleep as he reached it, and for a moment stood 
fingering the handle aimlessly, then all at once the pas- 
sionate blood came surging back to his white face. He 
strode back to Marie as ^e stood by the window, and 
caught her in his arms. 

" I'll never give you up," he said hoarsdy. " There's 
no law in England that can make me give you up. Kiss 
me, Marie Celeste, and say you didbi't mean it . . ." 
His voice was broken ; he hardly knew what he was say- 
ing. "You're my wife, and I'll keep you. Feathers 
doesn't want you — ^he has no use for women. You're 
my wife, and I love you ! I love you with all my heart 
and soul, Marie Celeste ! I've been a blind fool, but I'm 
awake now . • ." He kissed her again and again de- 
spairingly. 

Marie struggled a|[ainst his arms. ' She flung her head 
far back to escape his lips, but he was stronger than she, 
and it was only when he felt her almost fainting in his 
arms that he rdeased her. 

"You're my wife," he said again, meeting her eyes. 
"I haven't forgotten it if you have." 

Her lips were shaking so that she could hardly speak, 
but she managed to form a few words. 

"Don't you ever — touch me again — ^like that. How 
dare you — ^insult me ! You say you don't care for women, 
and it seems to me as if — any womann-will do! First 
Mrs. Heriot — ^then . . • then Dorothy, and now . . . 
now me ! Oh, if you knew how I hate you ! " 

She had gone too far. She knew it as soon as she had 
spoken, and she shrank away from him in fear when she 
saw his eyes. 

He caught her roughly by the wrist, dragg^g her 
towards him. 

" And you dare . . . you dare say a thing like that to 
me ! " he panted. " It's not what you bdieve — ^you 
know it's not the truth ! It's just a damnable ekcuse to 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 253 

get rid of me — to leave you free to go to Dakers* My 
God, I could almost kill you . . ." 

He was beside himself with rage and thwarted pas- 
sion. He let her go so violently that she staggered and 
fell backwards, striking her head against the wooden win- 
dow-sill ; but Chris was blind and deaf to everjrthing. He 
went downstairs and out into the street, hatless as he was, 
slamming the front door after him. 

It was still light, and people stared at him curiously 
as he strode by, his eyes fixed unseeingly before him. 

He was incapable of thought or action. He only felt 
that he must keep on walking, walking, to outstrip this 
terrible thing that walked gibbering beside him. 

He had never suffered in all his life until now, and he 
did not know how to bear it. 

He loved his wife and she hated him. He saw the 
world red as he walked along, careless of which way 
he went. 

She loved Dakers ! Feathers, ugly Feathers, who had 
never looked at a woman in his life ! He laughed aloud 
at the thought. 

And Featfiers was his friend! They had been more 
than brothers, and now this tragic thing had occurred. 

Presently he found himself outside Feathers' rooms 
in Albany Street, standing on the path, staring aimlessly 
at the door. 

Why had he come there? He did not know. But 
he went up the steps and rang the bell. 

Mr. Dakers was out, the maid told him, but he passed 
her and went up to his friend's room. 

There was a packed portmanteau in one comer and the 
hearth was strewn with tom-up papers. Some whiskey 
and soda stood on the table, and Chris helped himself to 
a stiff dose. 

He felt better after that, though there wa.s a stabbing 
pain in his temples, and he sat down and leaned his head 
in his hands. 

What should he say when Feathers came in? What 
should he do? 

He tried to think, but he could grip nothing definitely. 



% 



254 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

All thought melted away from him as soon as he thought 
he had got it. 

The only thing he could see distinctly against his 
closed lids was the face of Marie Celeste as she had said, 
" Oh, if you knew how I hate you ! " 

He would always hear her voice to his dying day. 
He would carry the memory of it with him to the grave. 

Imagination came to add to his torture. What had 
happened between her and his friend during all those 
days they had been together? 

Was it true what Marie had told him, that Feathers 
had never spoken one word of love to her? He tried 
to disbelieve it, but he knew his friend to be an honor- 
able man. 

Feathers was no wife-stealer; Feathers was the 
straightest chap in the world. 

Then came a revulsion of feeling. He hated him ! 
He would kill him if he came in now ! Chris started up 
and began pacing the room. 

What was to be the end of it all? He was' helpless — 
powerless ! And he loved her so . . . 

Fool that he had been never to know it before — ^to 
need the hysterical outburst of a woman for whom he 
cared less dian nothing, to show him how much he loved 
his wife. ^ 

He thought of the scene on the golf links with Dorothy, 
and a shiver of distaste shook him. He had never 
dreamed that she cared for him, that he was any more to 
her than she was to him — and at first he had been sorry 
for her, and ashamed of his own shortsightedness. Then 
he had grown angry and disgusted. 

And that hell-cat, Mrs. Heriot, had seen it all ! Chris 
struck his clenched fist against his forehead. He had 
never met a woman who was fit to hold a candle to Marie 
Celeste. And then, with that thought, the agony began 
all over again. 

He had lost her! She would never look at him any 
more with shy adoration in her brown eyes. They might 
have been so happy, but it was too late now. 

And the memory came to torture him of how Feathers 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 255 

had saved her life I Perhaps she had begun to love him 
then! If so, how could he blame her for caring! 
Feathers was one in a thousand, with a heart of gold. 
Feathers would make her happy where he had failed so 
miserably. 

The room seemed suddenly unbearably suflFocating, 
and he went out again into the street. 

He walked about all night, until wearied out, he turned 
back home and flung himself, dressed as he was, on the 
bed 



CHAPTER XX 

•• First will I pray, do Thou 
Who ownest the Soul 
Yet wilt grant control 
To another, nor disallow 
For a time, restrain me now." 

HE woke with a racking headache and nerves like 
wire that is stretched to snapping point. He made 
a pretense of breakfast, not daring to ask after 
Marie. He was afraid to go out for fear he should re- 
turn to find her gone. He went into the library and 
tried to read the newspaper, and fell asleep over it, wak- 
ing with a start when the gong for lunch rang through the 
house, to find Miss Chester standing beside him. 

" My dear boy ! Are you ill that you fall asleep at 
such an hour?" she asked anxiously. 

He managed to laugh. 

" I was late last night," he apologized. 

" Marie has one of her bad headaches, too," the old 
lady said. "She is not strong, you , know, Chris. I 
wish you could persuade her to go away for a rest. I've 
been to her room twice, and she won't let me in. Have 
you seen her this morning?" 

He had to lie to comfort her. 

" Yes — she's all right — she'll be better when she's had 
a rest." 

He went up to her door twice during the afternoon, 
but came away without daring to knock. He could hear 
her moving about inside, and once the shutting of a 
drawer. 

He went down again and wrote a note to her. Would 
she see him just for a moment? He would not worry 
her, but he must see her. He slipped it under the door 
of her room, but though he waited about all the evening 
no answer came. 

256 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 257 

His head was unbearable then, and, feeling as if the 
pain would drive him mad, he took his hat and went out 
after dinner. 

From her window Marie saw him go down the street. 
She had been watching all day for him to leave the house, 
and she drew a sharp breath as she saw his tall figure 
turn the comer of the road. She wondered if she would 
ever see him again. For a moment the thought stabbed 
her heart with a little pain, but it was gone instantly, 
and she crossed the room and quietly unlocked the door. 

It was very quiet, and she slipped downstairs and out 
of the house without being seen. 

It was almost dark now, and nobody noticed her as 
she went down the road and hailed a taxicab. 

She gave the driver Feathers' address in Albany Street, 
then sat back in a comer, trembling and shaking in every 
limb. 

There was a queer rapture in her heart, which was yet 
half fear. She was going to be happy, she told herself, 
fiercely; she was going to offer herself to a man who 
loved her and who would make her happy, and yet it 
terrified her to know that she was deliberately cutting 
herself off from her old life. 

She tried not to think, not to reason. Since yes- 
terday her heart had been like a stone and she dreaded 
that its hardness should melt. 

The door of the house was open when the taxicab 
stopped, and a woman stood at the entrance looking out 
into the night. 

Marie spoke to her timidly. 

" Is Mr. Dakers in, please? " 

The woman's eyes scanned her white face interestedly. 

" I think he is," she said. " Do you know which are 
his rooms, or shall I take you up ? " 

" Thank you ; I know." She had never been in the 
house before, but she had heard a great deal about his 
rooms from Chris, and she went up the staircase in the 
darkness, her heart shaken with a wild sort of happiness, 
and reached the landing above. 

The door of Feathers' sitting-room stood open, and he 



258 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

was standing at the table in his old tweed jacket, packing 
some papers away in a box. 

He had not heard Marie's step, and he did not move or 
glance up till she was actually in the room and had 
whispered his name. 

" Mr. Dakers ! " 

He started then as if he had heard a voice from the 
dead. He had been thinking of her a moment ago, and 
his face was white as he stared at her across the table. 
Then he took a swift step forward. 

" Mrs. Lawless I Good heavens 1 Is anything the 
matter?" 

He drew her into the room and closed the door. 

" Chris ? Where is he ? " he asked hoarsely. 

" I've told him I can't live with him any more " 

She broke down into stifled sobbing. " I've done my 
best — ^you know I have — ^and now it's finished. We had 
a dreadful scene last night • . . and I can't go back to 
him again — I can't." 

Feathers tried to speak. Twice he moistened his lips 
and tried to speak, but no words would come. The room 
was rocking before him. The night was full of tempting 
voices whispering that she had come to him because she 
loved him, and because she knew he loved her. 

With a desperate effort he found his voice. 

*' You don't mean what you are saying, I know, Mrs. 
Lawless; you are tired and upset. Let me see Chris, 
and if there is any little trouble that can be put right he 
will listen to me." He held out his hand to her. " Let 
me take you home." 

" It can never be all right again," she said, her voice 
broken with sobbing. "He never cared for me, you 
know he never did . . ." 

Feathers interrupted gently. 

" But you love him. My dear, I know that you have 
always loved him." 

Marie looked up. the tears wet on her cheeks, her 
sobbing suddenly quiet. "Do you know what I told 
him?" she asked, and then, as he did not answer, she 
added in a whisper : " I told him that I loved you." 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 259 

It seemed to Feathers as if all the world stood still 
in that moment — as if he and Marie were alone in a great 
silence, looking into one another's eyes. 

His heart was thumping up in his throat, almost chok- 
ing him, and his hands were clenched in the pockets of 
his shabby tweed jacket. 

The light in the center of the room fell full on his ugly 
face, cruelly revealing all its grimness and pallor, and Sie 
trembling tenderness of his mouth. He made no attempt 
to ignore her meaning. It was too great a moment for 
pretense. 

She was so small, such a child, that his passionate 
love died down into something infinitely gentle as he 
spoke. 

"Do you know what it means, Marie? Do you 
realize that you will break Miss Chester's heart, and ruin 
your husband's life? Do you know what everyone will 
say of you and me? '* 

She broke in feverishly. 

"I don't mind what they say. I've never had any 
happiness, and I could be happy with you — I am always 
happy with you . * . Oh, I thought you loved me," she 
added with a broken little cry. 

It seemed a long time before he answered, and then he 
said in a voice that was slow and labored with emotion : 

"I love you as the sweetest and dearest woman I 
have ever met. I love you for your kind friendship to 
me, and because you did not shrink from my ugly face. 
I love you because you're as far above me in goodness 
and purity as the stars . • •" He stopped with a hard 
breatii before he went on again. " You've been my ideal 
of ever)rthing I hold sacred, and you are asking me to 
trample it all underfoot and drag it in the mud." 

He broke off jaggedly, and Marie said in a whisper: 

"If — if you love me like that, don't you know — 
can't you see — ^how happy we could be together? " 

Did he know? He had dreamed so often of an impos- 
sible future in which she might be his, of long days spent 
with her, and hours of contentment, of the touch of her 
lips on his, and the sound of her footsteps pacing beside 



i 



260 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

him for the rest of his life and hers; but they had only 
been dreams^ dreams that could never come true. 

He sought desperately in his mind for words with 
which to answer her appeal, but what poor things were 
mere words in comparison with his longing to take her 
in his arms and kiss the smiles back to her tremulous 
lips. 

And she said again desperately, fighting for her ground 
inch by inch: 

"Chris never loved me. It was only the money he 
wanted ... oh, you know it was ! '* 

It was hard to find a reply to such an unanswerable 
argument. 

"Years ago, before I knew you, Marie," Feathers 
said presently, " Chris saved me from what might have 
been lifelong disgrace. He was the best friend a man 
ever had. What would you think of me if I paid my 
debt to him by taking his wife? Oh, my dear, think 
what it would mean . . J* 

She thought she heard a note of yielding in his voice, 
and she reached out a trembling hand and put it into 
his. 

" If you go away I shall have nobody left. Oh, I 
can't bear you to go away ! " 

He kept the little hand in his very gently. He went 
on talking to her as if she had been a child. He tried 
to show her the tragic impossibility of it all — ^the hope- 
lessness. He spoke to her of the past, of the days when 
she and Chris has been children together; he pleaded 
for his friend as eloquently as he might have pleaded 
for himself, and at last he stopped, struck to the heart 
by her silence. 

She drew her hand away. 

"You mean ... all this means . • • that you don't 
love me." 

Feathers bit his lip till the blood came. Not love her! 
When every drop of blood in his body was on fire 
with love for her ; when he was holding himself in with 
a grip of iron from taking her into his arms. He laughed 
drearily as he answered : 



k 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 261 

"If I loved you less I should not try to send you 
away." 

She looked up then, the blood rushing in a crimson 
wave to her face. He knew he had but to say the word 
and she would leave everything for him, and the knowl- 
edge tore his heart with pride and humility. He knew 
he had but to hold out his arms and she would come to 
them as a child might, trusting him, confident of happi- 
ness. 

And it was because she was such a child that he would 
not, dare not! She did not understand what she was 
doing, he kept telling himself. She did not realize into 
what a pitiful trap she was trying to lead both him and 
herself. His heart ached with tenderness for her, even 
while it bled with the wounds of the battle he was 
fighting. 

There were moments when nothing seemed to matter 
but this girl and her wistful eyes — ^moments when honor 
was but a paltry rag, and friendship a thing at which to 
scoff — ^moments when he told himself that he had as 
much right to happiness as anyone in the world, and that 
it was here for the taking — ^moments when he would 
have sold his immortal soul to hold her to his heart and 
kiss her lips. He felt his resistance breaking down, and 
in despair he broke out : 

" Mrs. Lawless, let me take you home ... I beg of 
you — for both our sakes . . ." 

She stood quite still, her hands tearing^ at her gloves, 
then suddenly she looked up at him with burning eyes. 

He could read the thoughts behind those eyes — shame 
that he was sending her away, and shame because she 
had come. Feathers stifled a groan as he turned from her. 

Then — " I am quite ready," she said, in the faintest 
whisper. 

He stood aside to let her pass, but as she reached him 
she swayed and would have fallen fainting to the floor 
but for his arms. 

He caught her and held her as if she had been a child 
Her eyes were closed, and her face and lips quite color- 
less. 



262 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Feathers put her down in the shabby armchair in 
whidi Chris had so often sat and grumble^ and tried to 
force water between her lips. 

Her hat had fallen o£F, and there was an ugly bruise 
on her forehead where last night she had fallen against 
the window sill. It stood out piinfully against the 
whiteness of her skin. 

And suddenly Feathers' strength gave way. He 
gathered her into his arms as if he could never let her 
go. He kissed her hair and the ugly bruise that had 
broken him down. He kissed her hands and the uncon- 
scious face that rested against his shabby coat 

For a moment at least she was his— even if in all his 
life he never saw her again. 

Even Samson was robbed of his strength by a woman. 

And even as he held her Feathers felt her stir in his 
arms, and the fluttering of her breath, and he released 
her a little, watching die color creep back to her face 
with passionate eyes. 

Then her lids lifted, and she saw him bending over her. 

She struggled free of him and sat up, pushing the daik 
hair from her forehead. She tried to remember what had 
happened, but it only came back to her slowly and with 
difficulty; then she made a movement to rise to her feet 

" I forgot . . . you asked me to go . . ." 

" Marie ! " said Feathers brokenly. 

She looked up, a wild hope in her eyes, then she fell 
forward into his arms. 

" Oh, do you love me? — say you love me • • ." 

" My darling — my beloved . . ." 

Everything was forgotten. The world was at a stand- 
still. In his arms she felt that she had come home at 
last to rest and perfect happiness. 

They talked in broken whispers. He would take her 
away, he said ; th^ would find their happiness together. 
Between kisses th^ made their plans. 

"And you will never be sorry — ^and hate me?" she 
asked painfully. 

He turned her face to his. 

" Am I to answer that question ? " he asked hoarsely, 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 263 

and she shook her head. " No — I know you never will." 

Her head was on his shoulder, his cheek pressed to 
hers. Presently she raised herself, and put her arms 
round his neck. 

"Are you quite — quite happy?" she whispered. The 
grip o£ his arms left her breathless as he answered: 

" I never believed in heaven — ^till now." She rubbed 
her soft face against the rough tweed of his coat. 

" I love your coat," she said. " I love all of you." 

Feathers turned his face sharply away, and she put up 
her hand, forcing him to look at her again. 

" Do you really love me? " she asked. She had had so 
little of love in her life, it was hard to believe that at 
last she was everything in the world to this man. 

He answered her with broken words and kisses. She 
could feel the passionate beating of his heart beneath 
her cheek, and she looked up at him with shy eyes. " You 
always will — always ! " she insisted. 

" Always — ^always • • . all my life — ^and after." 

He put his lips to hers in a long kiss; he kissed her 
hands and slender wrists. 

*' My love — ^my love," he said brokenly, and could say 
no more. 

Presently he drew her to her feet 

" I must take you home." He looked at her with eyes 
that were hot and passionate. " Marie, do you despise 
me ? I tried to send you away, but I love you so, I love 
you so." 

" I love you, too," she said. 

" My beloved." 

She looked up at him. 

"It's good-night then?" She lifted her face like a 
child to kiss him. " Grood-night till to-morrow," she said. 
" And then ..." 

He kissed the words from her lips. 

She tidied her hair by the little glass over the mantel- 
shelf. 

" My cheeks bum so," she said shyly. She had never 
before been kissed as Feathers had kissed her. 

Her eyes fell on a photograph of Ghris as she turned 



i 



264 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

away. Qiris at his handsomest and happiest, his eyes 
meeting hers with the old smiling carelessness, and she 
felt as if a cold hand had clutched her heart* 

Until now she had forgotten Chris I She had f oi^gotten 
everything. 

She turned quickly to the man behind her. 

" I am quite ready." She was only anxious now to go. 

He kissed her again on the dark stairs, very humbly 
and reverently, and he kept her hand in his as they 
wsdked together along the street. 

"Is it very late?" she asked once, and he said: 
"No— only ten; do you think they will have missed 
you ? " 

"I locked my door; they will think I am asleep. 
Greyson will let me in." 

He clenched his teeth in the darkness. Already the 
lying and subterfuge had begun. Where was it going to 
end? He could feel shame like a mantle on his broad 
shoulders. 

He said good-night to her at the end of the street, 
following her slowly till she was safe indoors. Then he 
turned and walked back to his rooms. His head was 
burning, and he took off his hat to bare it to the cool 
night air. He did not know if he was more happy than 
he had ever been in his life before, or unutterably 
wretched. 

The thou|[ht of her kisses made his head reel, but the 
shame of his own pitiable weakness was like a searing 
flame. 

He had said that he would take her away to-morrow. 
He was going to cut her off from everything she had held 
dear, and make her a nameless outcast! He was pre- 
pared to bring his idol down to the dust at his feet. 

Looking back on the last hour, it seemed impossible 
he had jridded to such delirium. He had arranged 
every detail for her, had written them down so she could 
not forget, and at this time to-morrow . . . 

He could not pass that thought. He stood still in the 
cool night and looked up at the stars. 

" God, it can never be ! " he told himself despairingly. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 265 

He had said that she was as far above him as the 
stars, and here he was in his madness trying to bring a 
star down to earth. 

It was not of himself he thought at all. He would 
have gloried in a shame shared with her; but for Marie, 
little Marie Celeste . . . 

He went up to his rooms with dragging steps. There 
was a light shining through the half-closed door, and he 
supposed vaguely that he must have left it burning when 
he went out. 

He pushed open the door, and saw Chris sitting in the 
chair where so short a time ago he had held Marie in his 
arms* 



CHAPTER XXI 

*' I fought with my friend last night. 
And it was not with honest swords; 
No steel sprang out to gleam and bite^ 
We fought witi^ poor, mean words." 

THERE was a moment's silence, then Feathers went 
forward. The riotous blood in his veins had 
quieted and he felt a little cold and breathless. 

"Hullo!" he said. 

Chris looked up. 

" Hullo 1 I thought rd wait till you came in as they 
said you'd only just gone out." 

" Yes . . . yes ... I went down to the end of the 
road, that's all." 

He poured out two whiskies with a hand that shook 
badly, and pushed one across to Chris. 

"Have a drink?" 

Chris tasted it and made a wry face. 

"Lord! That's a strong dose," he said. He added 
more soda to it, but Feathers drained his at a gulp. 

" Well, how goes it? " he asked. He sat down on the 
other side of the table, so that his face was out of the 
light. The room to him seemed filled with Marie's pres- 
•ence. It was so real that he wondered Chris did not 
guess she had been here. 

Chris stood up, his shoulders against the mantelshelf. 

His handsome eyes met his friend's with haggard pain. 

" I've got something to tell you," he said. " I'm tdling 
you because you've always been — ^been my best friend." 

There was a little silence, then: 

"Yes," said Feathers hoarsely. Chris told his story 
abruptly. 

" Mrs. Heriot went to our place two days ago. You 

266 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 267 

know Miss Webber and I were golfing with them the day 
before." 

" Yes." 

Chris flushed and his eyes wavered. 

" A damnable incident happened when we were down 
there — Miss Webber • . ." He could not go on. 

Feathers nodded. 

" I know. Don't trouble to explain. I could see it in 
Scotland. She thinks she is in love with you — is that 
it? and told you so? Mrs. Heriot overheard, or saw, 
and told • . . your wife ... Go on." 

Chris looked relieved. 

" That's it, more or less. I swear to you that there 
was nothing in it on my side at all ! I've never given the 
girl a thought, beyond to play golf with her; you know 
that!" 

" Yes, go on ! " There was a long silence. 

" Marie won't believe me " Chris said then bro- 
kenly. "She won't even let me explain. Miss Webber's 
brother died unexpectedly, and I took her back home. I 
only went because Marie and Aunt Madge both seemed 
to think I ought to. I never spoke a dozen words to the 
wretched girl the whole way; I didn't want to go with 
her. I stay^ at an inn in Chester that night — ^her home 
is in Chester — and came back as soon as I could the next 
morning, and this is What I got! . . ." He dropped 
back into liis chair despairingly. " She's done with me," 
he said hoarsely. 

Feathers stared at his friend with strained eyes, and 
after a moment Chris started up once more. 

" I'll kill that Heriot woman if I ever see her again,*' 
he broke out passionately. " I loathe women ! They're 
cruel devils to each other ! Why did she want to go and 
hurt Marie Celeste like that? We were getting on better 
together — ^things would have been all right, and then that 
hell-cat must needs come in and ruin everything . . ." 
His voice was choked and broken. 

" She said she hated me — Marie said so," he stumbled 
on. " She looked as if she meant it, too . . . My God, 
you don't know what it was like, to have to stand there 



268 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

and listen I I think I went mad — I know I hurt her, but 
I didn't know what I was doing ... I'd give my soul to 
undo the past three months and start again. It's all been 
my fault ! " He brought his clenched fist down on the 
table with a crash. "Blind, insensate fool that I am! 
I never knew that she was more to me than an3rthing on 
earth . . ." 

Feathers closed his eyes, and for a moment there was 
absolute silence. He had never heard Chris speak with 
such passionate despair before ; had not believed him to 
be capable of so much feeling, and it drove home to 
him with brutal force the terrible tragedy upon the brink 
of which they now stood. 

It was not merely his own happiness, or Marie's that 
was involved, but that of his friend as well, for Feathers 
knew with unerring instinct that Chris had only spoken 
the simple truth when he said that he loved his wife. He 
had been slow to realize it perhaps, but now it had come 
Feathers knew him sufficiently well to know that it 
would be deep and lasting. 

He braced himself for the thing which he knew was yet 
to come, and a terrible feeling of enmity rose in his 
heart against this friend of his, who had never discovered 
that he loved Marie imtil the fact that he stood in great 
danger of losing her, had been driven home to him. 

Half an hour ago Feathers had told himself that he 
must give her up, but now he had forgotten that, and all 
his love and strength rose in defense of her. She was 
his — ^he would hold her against all the world. 

Chris was pacing the room agitatedly, and after a 
moment he broke out again: 

" That isn't all — it isn't the worst — *' he swung round 
looking at Feathers with haggard eyes. " How would 
you feel," he demanded hoarsely, "if your own wife 
told you that she cared for another man? " 

There was a poignant silence, and as their eyes held one 
another, the realization came home to Feathers with 
overwhelming shock, that in spite of everything he had 
heard, in spite of what Marie herself had told him, Chris 
still trusted him and believed in him. He tried to find 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 269 

his voice, but it seemed to have deserted him, and as he 
cast desperately about for words, Chris turned away and 
flung himself down into a chair, his face buried in his 
hands. 

There was a long silence, then he said in a dreary, 
muffled voice: 

" It's only what I deserve, I know — ^but . . ." He could 
not go on. He was up again, pacing the room in a frenzy 
of impotence. 

Feathers watched him for a moment with beaten eyes, 
then he said jerkily: 

"You didn't— didn't care for her when you were 
married, Chris? I thought — ^wasn't it — ^just to get the 
money?" 

Chris turned his haggard face. 

" To get what money? " he asked vaguely. 

Feathers tried to explain. 

" I was told — I understood — ^that the money was left 
to your wife — ^to your wife alone I mean, unless she con- 
sented to marry you, and that then . . . then you di- 
vided it" 

Chris laughed mirthlessly. 

" Grood lord, it was the other way about," he said in a 
hard voice. "Her father was always a crank, and he 
never forgave her for not being a boy — ^that was why he 
adopted me. He left every farthing to me — and I laiew 
how proud she was — ^knew she'd never take a shilling if 
she was told the truth about the will, so ... so I married 
her to settle it ! It seemed the best way out at the time," 
he added hopelessly. " I thought I was being rather 
clever ... I know now what a damned fool I was." 

Feathers got up slowly and, walking across to Chris, 
put his hands heavily on his shoulders, looking at him 
with desperate eyes. 

"Is that the truth?" he asked hoarsely. "Will 
you swear that it's the truth ? " 

Chris stared at him in blank amazement. 

"What on earth do you mean? Of course it's the 
truth. Ask Miss Chester if you don't believe me — ^she's 
Imown about it all along. It was she who first suggested 



270 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

keeping it from Marie • • • Here, I say, what's the 

matter ? " 

" Nothing ... I wish I'd known before, that's all/' 
He laughed grimly. " Aston Knight told me a very 
different yam," he broke out with violence after a mo- 
ment. " He said that the money had been left to your 
wife, which was why you had married her — ^and I 
believed him ! My Gk)d, what a fool ! " 

Qiris was watching him with angry mystification. 

" I don't know what you're driving at," he said 
shortly. " But I'm much obliged to you for the compli- 
ment, I'm sure. Marie hadn't a farthing when I married 
her — but I settled half of everything on her on our wed- 
ding day." 

Feathers turned his white face. 

"Why didn't you tell her the truth?" he asked with 
difficulty. " No good ever comes of lying and subterfuge 
and deceit • • •" He laughed grimly at his own words ! 
He was a fine one to get up in the pulpit and preadi 
when in another twenty- four hours he would have broken 
every code of honor and friendship. 

It was trembling on his lips to tell Chris the whole 
truth, to keep bade nothing from that first moment in 
the hotel lounge, when his too-ready tongue had started 
all the mischief. 

But for him and his blundering, Chris and his vrife 
would have been happy enough now. He seemed to sec 
it all as plainly as if it were a picture unraveled before 
his eyes. 

Marie had turned against Chris from the moment when 
she had overheard what he had said to Atkins. All her 
pride had been up in arms and had gone on increasing 
from that day until to-night, when in her desperation 
and unhappiness she had come to him. 

" I don't know that it matters about not telling her," 
Chris said wretchedly. " She told me afterwards that 
she had known all the time, though God alone knows 
who told her." 

There was a little silence; then: 

" I did," said Feathers quietly. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 271 

" You ! " The blood rushed to Chris' face. He swung 
round and stared at his friend with hot eyes. 

" You ! " he said again. 

'' Yes ; I was talking to Atkins in the lounge the first 
night you were married. I repeated to him what Aston 
Knight had told me — ^that you had married your wife 
for her money . . . and she overheard." 

He looked at Chris' incredulous face. 

" It's the truth," he said. " I never knew until weeks 
afterwards that she had overheard, until she told me 
herself, and even then I believed that I had only repeated 
what was true." 

He smiled painfully. " Go on, curse me to all eternity ; 
I deserve it ; I've been at the bottom of all the mischief." 

There was a terrible silence. Chris understood well 
enough now without further explanations, and for a 
moment he saw the world red. He broke out savagely : 

"Then it's you I've got to thank! You, with your 
damned humbugging pretense of friendship trying to 
steal my wife " 

He raised his fist in blind passion, and Feathers broke 
out in an agony: 

" Chris ! for God's sake . . ." 

There was something so tragic in his ugly face, that 
Chris' hand fell limply, and he turned away, leaning his 
arms on the mantelshelf and hiding his face. 

" It's absurd to say I'm sorry," Feathers said after a 
moment dully. "One can't find adequate words for — 
for a thing like this . . . There's only one reparation 
I can make, Chris ... to tell — ^your wife." 

Chris did not answer, and he went on. " I should 
like to feel that you still trust me sufficiently to — ^to 
allow me to tell her." 

Chris flung up his head. 

" Nothing will do any good. She hates the sight of 
me — and I don't wonder — if that is what she thought." 
There was something like a sob in his voice, and Feathers 
winced. 

The delirium of that hour with Marie seemed like a 
dream. What madness had possessed him? Hdr love 



I 



272 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

had been given to Chris^ and no one else. It was only 
in her iinhappiness that she had turned to him, as a 
sick child will often turn to a stranger^ away from the 
one it really loves best in all the world. 

The thought hurt unbearably, but he knew it was the 
truth — ^knew that his only reparation was to give her 
back to Chris. 

Chris turned suddenly, his young face aged by pain 
and despair. 

" She told me that she hated me/' he said again. It 
seemed as if the fact was engraved on his heart and mind, 
to the exclusion of everything else. He broke off, 
breathing hard, as if he were choking. " She told me 
that she loved you — ^you who ruined my happiness and 
set her against me . . . Curse you, I say! Curse you 
to all eternity . . ." 

" Chris, for God's sake 1 " 

Chris turned away. He was shaking with passion, 
and for a long time neither of them spoke. 

Then Feathers got up from the table and laid a hand 
on his friend's shoulder. 

" Marie has never loved anyone but you/' he said 
slowly. " She's been desperately unhappy, and when 
— when a woman is unhappy, she turns to the first 
friend who will listen to her! . . . Your wife turned to 
me • • • If I had been any other man, she would have 
done just the same. Will you believe me when I tell you 
tibat I know things are going to be all right ? . . . Chris, 
for Grod's sake, believe me." 

Chris shook his hand off impatiently. 

"But when? How? You can't take away hatred 
with words/' he said. " And she meant what she said . . . 
She's never looked at me like that in her life before . . ." 

Feathers walked over to the window and looked out 
into the darkness. The stars seemed to be watching 
him with sympathetic eyes — the stars that were as far 
removed from him as was the woman he loved. 

Chris spoke again presently: 

" I'll get off. If I talk till Doomsday nothing can be 
done." He turned to the door. " Good-night/' he said 
gruffly. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 273 

Feathers held out his hand, but Chris would not see 
it, and he went out, shutting the door hard behind him. 

Feathers stood at the window and listened to his steps 
dying away down the street. It was the end of their 
friendship, he knew, and the knowledge cut him to the 
heart. 

He sat up all night, trying to make some sort of order 
out of his tangled thoughts. He would never see Marie 
again ! He would write to her and explain. 

But he knew she would be imconvinced by a letter, 
and, after all, what could he say that he would give her 
back her lost happiness, poor child ! 

He waited till ten o'clock the following morning and 
rang Chris on the 'phone. 

TTie servant who answered it said that Mr. Lawless 
had gone out. " And — Mrs. Lawless ? " Feathers asked. 

" She has gone out, too — for the day," she said. 

"With— with her husband?" 

"Oh, no, sir!" 

The surprise in the girl's voice was like a knife in his 
heart. So the servants knew how seldom Chris and his 
wife went about together; and it was all his doing! 

Marie had gone out for the day! He knew only too 
well what that meant — ^that she had already left home 
forever, to join her life with his. 

It was impossible to stop her now. He would have to 
go and meet her, as they had arranged last night. 

He had told her to meet him at a little inn on the 
Oxford road. He had arranged to drive the car down 
in the evening and take her away ! 

Last night it had sounded like sense ! But this morn- 
ing .. . 

Madness ! — ^utter madness I 

Twice during the morning he rang Chris again, but each 
time he was still out, and finally Feathers wrote to him. 

He sent the note by a boy who lived in the house, and 
went round to the garage to fetch his car. 

If Marie had gone to the inn earlier than he had told 
her, there was still time to tell her the truth and take 
laer back home. 



i 



274 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

It was afternoon then; an unusually hot day for 
September, wiUi a curiously humid feeling in the air. 

Feathers drove like a man in a dream. Everything 
seemed so unreal and impossible. He wondered what 
the end of it all would be. 

It was only four o'clock when he reached the inn, but 
Marie was not there. He supposed he could hardly 
have expected her to be, seeing that he had not told her 
to meet him until eight that evening. 

He remembered how he had calculated that it would 
be dark and that they could make their escape under 
cover of the friendly night. His whole soul writhed now 
as he thought of it. The shame of what he had done 
overwhelmed him. 

He never knew how he got through the long hours. 
He could not keep still for a moment. In and out he 
wandered, looking up and down the long road by which 
she must come. 

It seemed to get dark early. The river flowed close 
to the inn, and a curious gray mist rose from the fields 
and the water till almost a fog lay over the countryside. 

Feathers suffered the tortures of the damned. His 
heart was sick with mingled dread and longing. One 
moment he was praying that she would not come, that 
at the last moment she would change her mind and not 
dare to face it, and the next his soul was in agony lest he 
should never see her again. A thousand times he went 
into the quiet little inn parlor and looked at the clock. It 
was five minutes to eight, and he had told Chris to be 
there at half -past seven! It had seemed the only way I 
If Qiris came, between them they could tell her the whole 
story, but the clock struck the hour and there was no 
sign of Chris, no sign of Marie. 

Feathers went to the door again. He was shaking 
as if with ague and his lips were like ice. 

Had anything happened to her ? He thought he should 
go mad with dread. He paced back into the inn again. 
Perhaps the clock was wrong — ^perhaps . . • 

" Mr. Dakers," said a timid voice, and he turned slowly 
to find Marie beside him. 



CHAPTER XXII 

*' I am old and very tired, though to strangers I am young; 
Life was just a sporting gamble, but for me the game is done; 
It was worth it, and I'm scoffing now the reckoning has come; 
That's the worst of too much loving- 
Hurts like Hades when it's done." 

FEATHERS' relief was so great that at first he could 
not speak, and she went on tremulously: 
"I've been here ever so long, walking up and 
down the road." She cast a timid glance behi;id her. " I 
saw you " — she went on almost whispering. " But I was 
afraid. I thought — oh, I thought so many dreadful 
things." He could see how she was trembling, and he 
took her hand into a warm clasp. " Oh, I am so glad to 
be with you," she said passionately. 

He drew her into the parlor, closing the door. Though 
the evening was warm a fire burned in the old-fashioned 
open grate, its flames throwing fantastic shadows on 
walls and low ceiling. 

Feathers put Marie into a chair, and stood beside her. 

" There is nothing to be afraid of," he said gently. 
" You are quite safe with me " — ^but he looked away from 
her as he spoke, aiid the devil of desire rose again in his 
heart, turning his blood to fire, and forcing his pulse to 
racing speed. In that moment he fought the hardest 
battle of his life, as he stood there, her soft fingers cling- 
ing to his, in the intimacy of the firelit room, and wiUi 
the silent country lying all around them outside. 

He was an ugly man, with a hulking, grotesque body, 
but there was something of the angel in his eyes when 
presently he looked down at the girl's bowed head. 

" Marie — ^will you answer me one question ? " 

She nodded, her lips were trembling too miich to 
speak. 

275 



i 



276 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

" Are you sure — can you tell me truthfully, with all 
your heart and soul, that you wish to come away with me 
to-night? that you know it is for your complete happi- 
ness? — ^that you have not one singlzf fear, or regret?'* 

She nodded again, not looking at him. 

"When you left me — last night," he insisted gently, 
•'were you still quite happy? — perfectly happy?" 

Silence now, then suddenly she looked up. 

" Were you ? " she whispered. 

" No." 

He never knew how he forced the word to his lips. 
The old longing was rending his heart, the old tempting 
whispers torturing him. Marie hid her face in her shak- 
ing hands. 

Feathers sat down beside her. He put an arm round 
her shrinking figure as a big brother might have done, 
and his voice when he spoke was infinitely gentle. 

" Last night was a dream," he said. " Let us forget 
it. I alone am to blame. No, no — ^let me go on," as 
she would have spoken. " No matter how much we 
might — I might love you, there are other things that 
count even more in the sum total of happiness — things I 
should be powerless to give you, and so ... so we must 
forget . . . last night . . . and go back .... But you 
know that, Marie — without my telling you." 

She looked up at him then, and suddenly she broke 
out wildly: 

" It isn't that I don't love you — that I didn't mean it 
when I said I loved you. Oh, don't think that — don't 
think that ! " 

Feathers rose abruptly. He walked away from her, 
and his face was white, as Marie went on hopelessly. 

" I can't explain myself — I don't understand myself. 
I only know that I've never been so happy in all my life 
as — as I was last night when — ^when you kissed me — I 
shall always remember it, always — It's too late to hope 
that I shall ever be happy with . . . with Chris — even 
if- -if I wanted to; but — ^but he is my husband, and 
so • • •" She half turned. Hinging despairing arms 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 277 

towards him. '' Oh, help me, please help me" she said 
sobbing. 

Featfiers came back to her, knelt down beside her, 
and took both her hands in his. The pallor had not left 
his face, but it was wonderful in its tenderness and his 
voice was infinitely gentle when he spoke. 

" Chris came to my rooms last night — after . . . after 
you had gone." She looked up with terrified eyes. 

" Chris ! " 

" Yes." Feathers drew a hard breath. " Marie, you 
know that . . . that he loves you, too ? " 

"Loves me!" she laughed harshly. "When he 
married me for my money — when he left me alone all 
those weeks ! If it hadn't been for you . . .'* She pushed 
his arm away and rose to her feet. " Oh, I don't want to 
talk about him. I never wish to see him any more." 

Feathers stood up, so that his big figure was between 
her and the door. 

" He is coming here — ^this evening — ^to take you home," 
he said. 

For an instant she stared at him with an ashen face; 
then she gave a little stifled scream. 

" No, no ; I can't ! I never want to see him again ! 
Let me go ! Oh ! Let me go ! I thought you loved me, 
and now this is what you have done." 

He put her into the chair again, keeping her hands 
firmly in his. He told her as briefly as possible of his 
conversation last night with Chris. 

" It was never the truth that he married you for your 
money," he said. He said it over and over again, trying 
to drive it home to her. She looked so dazed and white, 
almost like a sleep-walker who had been roughly aroused. 

" I alone am to blame," he insisted quietly. "But for 
me Chris would have found out from the first that he 
loved you . . . Oh, Marie, try and understand, dear — try 
and understand." 

She looked up at him with vague eyes and nodded 
vacantly. 

She was tr3ring to understand; she wanted to under- 
stand, but her brain refused to work. 



278 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

She kept telling herself that she was goin^ back home, 
that Chris was coming to take her home, that she was not 
going away with Feadiers, after all, that it had just been 
a sweet, impossible dream, but it all sounded like so much 
foolishness. 

How could Chris possibly love her? How could he 
possibly wish to take her home after all that had hap- 
pened? He would hate and despise her when he knew. 

She felt so cold ! Her hands were like ice, and yet her 
head was burning hot. 

Feathers went on talking to her, and she tried to listen, 
tried to keep her thoughts concentrated, but they would 
wander away; then presently — ^after a long while it 
seemed — ^he lifted her to her feet, and she heard him say 
that Chris could not be coming now after all, that it was 
too late — ^that it was past nine o'clock. 

She laughed because he seemed so distressed. 

" I knew he wouldn't come," she said, but it did not 
seem to matter. 

She let him help her into the car — ^the same car in 
which she had ridden with him happily so many times 
before. She wished she could feel that happiness now, 
but her heart felt all dead and cold. 

" I knew Chris wouldn't come," she said again stu- 
pidly. " Not that it matters at all," she added, with an 
empty little laugh. 

Nothing mattered ! This second bid for happiness had 
failed as the first had done and she wished she could die. 

" Where are you taking me? " she asked, as he folded 
the rug round her, and he answered "Home." 

He looked up and down the road with haggard eyes, 
his ears strained for the sound of a car that mi^ht be 
bringing Chris. He could not understand why he had not 
come. He had counted on him with such passionate 
certainty that it never occurred to him for a moment that 
bis note could have miscarried. His mind was racked 
with torturing doubts. 

And all the time Marie's words were hammering 
against his brain, adding to his torture. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 279 

** It isn't that I don't love you — that I didn't mean it 
when I said I loved you. . . ." 

Was that the truth? And if so, was he doing the right 
thing by sending her back to her husband ? 

Until to-night he had only tried to cheat himself with 
the belief that she loved him, but now everything seemed 
changed, distorted. 

It was unusually dark, and a thick mist from the river 
made it difficult to see more than a yard ahead, in spite 
of the bright headlamps of the car. 

Feathers had been tinkering with the engine in order to 
gain time, but he closed down the bonnet now, and came 
to the side of the car where Marie sat. 

" Are you ready ? " he asked hoarsely. 

"Yes — " he had turned to move away, when she 
caught his arm. 

" If — if it's good-bye — " she said, in such a faint whis- 
per that he could hardly hear the words. "I should 
... oh, I should like to kiss you once more." 

For an instant he stood like a man turned to stone, 
then he turned deliberately, and crushed her in his arms. 

For a long moment their lips clung together, and it 
seemed to Marie that in that kiss, Feathers gave her his 
heart and himself and all that he had — forever. When 
he released her and she sank back, trembling and faint, 
she heard his hoarse " God bless you " as if in a dream, 
and presently he was beside her, driving slowly back 
through the mist and darkness. 

She only spoke to him once to say: 

" Supposing— supposing they won't have me at home 
any more?" 

The blood rushed to his face. 

" We won't suppose anything so impossible," he said, 
but a fierce exultation passed through him ; for if such a 
thing Kere to happen, he knew that she would be his in 
very truth. 



CHAPTER XXin 

" And if I die first, shall death be then 
A lonesome watchtower whence I see yoa we^?" 

CHRIS had gone out that morning without seeing 
either Miss Chester or his wife.^ His first passion- 
ate bitterness and anger against Feathers had 
passed, leaving him more wretched than he had ever been 
in his Ufe, as he remembered their long friendship. 

He who had never known trouble hitherto was ahnost 
crushed to the earth by it now ; and the hardest part of 
it all to bear was the knowledge that to a large extent he 
and his selfishness had been to blame. 

He told himself that he had no wish to see Feathers 
any more, and yet it was with Ihe sneaking hope that 
he would find him there that he went to the club after 
having mooned about the West End all the morning. 

He made a pretense of lunch, and drank three whiskies 
and sodas, which made him feel quarrelsome, and he had 
just decided that he would htmt up Aston Knight and tell 
him what he thought of him, when one of 8ie waiters 
came to him in the smoking-room. 

"If you please, sir, you are wanted on the 'phone; 
very urgent, if you please." 

Chris was up in a second. There was only one thing 
in the world that could be urgent to him, he knew, and 
that was if it concerned Marie. 

It was Miss Chester's maid, Grejrson, who answered his 
impatient hullo, and his heart seemed to stop beating as 
he could hear the distress in her voice. 

"Oh, sir, could you come home, please? I've been 
trying to find you all the morning. I rang up Mr. Baker's 
rooms, but you weren't there." 

Chris struck in roughly: 

280 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 281 

" Well, Fm here now. What is it ? Can't you speak 
up?" 

" It's Miss Chester, sir ! She was all right when I 
called her this morning, but when I went up again . . ." 

Chris caught his breath with a sob of relief. Only 
Aunt Madge ! Thank God nothing was wrong with Marie. 

" I'll come at once," he said, not waiting to hear any 
more. " Send for a doctor, and I'll come at once." 

He hung up the receiver and sent for a taxi. He was 
home in less than ten minutes, to find the doctor's car at 
the gate. He ran up the steps hastily and was met by 
Greyson, who was crying bitterly. 

*' Well, how is she ? " he asked. 

" She's dead, sir," she told him, sobbing. " She was 
dead when I 'phoned you. I tried to tell you on the 
'phone, but you wouldn't let me." 

" Dead ! " The news came as an awful shock to Chris. 
He stood quite still, his heart slowing down sickeningly; 
then he went on and up the stairs to Miss Chester's room. 

He had expected to find Marie there, but only the doc- 
tor and housekeeper stood by the bed. 

Miss Chester was lying just as if she were asleep, her 
white hair parted smoothly on either side of her face, 
and a little smile on her lips, as if behind her closed lids 
she was looking into the future and could see something 
that pleased her well. 

Chris stood silently looking down at her. He had been 
very fond of her and she had always been very good to 
him. There was an uncomfortable tightness in his throat. 

The housekeeper was sobbing quietly. 

Chris looked at her. " Where's — ^my wife? " he asked 
in a whisper. 

She shook her head. 

"I don't know, sir; she went out almost directly 
after breakfast. Oh — the poor lamb, it will break her 
heart." 

When Chris turned away, she followed him on to the 
landing; She was carrying a big white woolly shawl over 
her arm. 

Chris touched it. " Was she still working? " he asked. 



% 



282 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

He knew it was the shawl without which he had hardly 
ever seen Miss Chester. 

The woman broke into fresh tears. She held the shawl 
up for his inspection. 

" It's finished, sir I She must have put the last stitch 
into it just before she died, because Greyson said she was 
sitting up working at it when she called her this morning. 
She was so anxious to get it made — she always told me it 
was for Marie — for . . ." 

"That will do," said Chris. He went dovimstairs 
and waited about till the doctor came down. 

" There was nothing to be done," the doctor told him. 
" If I had been sitting beside her when it happened I 
could not have done anything." He looked at Chris' 
pale face sympathetically. " It's been a shock to you," 
he said. " And your wife — I am afraid she will fed it 
very much." 

" Yes— especially as she was out." Chris spoke 
constrainedly. He dreaded having to break the news 
to Marie. 

The afternoon went by, and she did not come. Greyson 
did not know where she had gone. 

" Nobody rang her up?" Chris asked, with sudden 
apprehension. 

"No, sir; Mr. Dakers rang up twice before limch, 
but he asked for you." 

Chris went to the 'phone and gave Feathers' number, 
but Feathers had gone out in the car, so they told him, 
and had left no word as to when he would return. 

Greyson brought Chris some tea in the smoking- 
room, but he left it untouched. 

" There are some letters, sir," she said, as she came to 
take the tray away, but Chris did not even glance at them. 

His heart was racked with anxiety for his wife. He 
wished he had insisted on seeing her that morning and 
he blamed himself bitterly. 

Evening came, but no Marie. 

" I don't want any dinner," Chris said, when the 
servants begged him to eat. He wandered in and out 
of the house restlessly. He had rung up everyone where 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 283 

lie thought there was the slightest chance of finding 
Marie, but nobody had seen her. He had rung Feathers 
twenty times without result. 

It was approaching seven o'clock before his eyes fell 
on the little heap of letters on the smoking-room table, 
and from sheer restlessness he took them up and opened 
them one by one. 

A bill — a note from a man asking him to play golf — 
a letter in Miss Chester's writing, sent back from Scot- 
land, and a note without a stamp. 

He was about to throw the last listlessly aside as of 
no interest, when he recognized Feathers' writing. 

With his heart racing, he broke open the flap and for 
a moment everything swam before his eyes, so that he 
could not read a word. 

Dear Chris,— I rang you this morning, but they said you were 
out, so I am writing and sending the note by hand, as I want you 
to get it as soon as you come in. You will know by the time 
you receive this that your wife has left the house. If you had 
not come to my rooms last night and told me what you did, God 
only knows in what a tragedy we might have found ourselves. 
This morning I did my best to set things right, but I was too 
late, so am writing this note to you. You know the Yellow 
Sheaf on the Oxford road near Somerton Lock? If you will 
be there this evening at half-past seven you will find Mrs. 
Lawless. I know this is the end of our friendship, and through 
my fault My only excuse is that I thought I was a strong man, 
but perhaps we are all weak when it comes to the test— Feathers. 

Half-past seven! It was nearly seven now, and 
Somerton Lock was forty miles away. 

Chris never knew what happened during the next hour. 
He only came to himself again as he was driving like a 
madman through the darkening night, the cool breeze 
stinging his face. 

She had gone— and with Feathers! His best friend 
had failed him, had lied to him and dishonored him! 
There was murder in Chris' heart as he stared ahead 
into the darkness and tried to control his thoughts. 



284 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Twice he took the wrong road, and had to turn back, 
cursing and praying, and almost sobbing in his fear. 

The darkness seemed to deepen in order to hamper 
him. As he neared the river a slight dip in the road 
plunged him into a thick mist that was almost a fo^. 

He had to slow down — could hardly see a yard ahead 
of him. 

Once he stopped, and with the aid of a lamp from the 
car found a signpost. 

Somerton Lock — one mile . . . 

Almost there ! He tried to believe it was not too late, 
tried to remember that for all these years Feathers had 
been his loyal friend. Once the car swerved under his 
shaking hand, and he had to stop dead with grinding 
brakes, thinking he was off the road. 

It was then that he heard steps running up the road 
towards him, and a man's voice calling through the mist 
and darkness. 

He started the car again impatiently, but as he did so 
a man's figure came out of the gloom into the uncertain 
light of his lamps. 

" There's a car in the river . . . For God's sake, sir, 
come. It's a mile from the lock and not a soul nearer! 
Lost the road in this mist they must have done." He 
read |he refusal in Chris' face, and he broke out again 
passionately, "Oh, for God's sake, sir! There's a 
woman in it I " 

As if in corroboration of his statement, a frantic cry 
came faintly to them through the mist. 

Chris hesitated no longer. He caught up a strap 
which lay at the bottom of the car and, dragging a lamp 
from its hook, ran back along the road with the man. 

"Are you sure?" he asked breathlessly as they 
ran. " How can a car have got into the river? " 

They were* at the water's edge now and holding the 
lamp low down, they could see the wheel tracks through 
the damp, short grass on the bank and the broken rushes 
where the car had taken its plunge. 

The river was deep there, but if it had been half the 
depth the danger would have been almost as great, 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 285 

for Chris knew that the car would in all probability 
have turned over had it been going even at a moderate 
speed. He fiuHg off his coat and, making a cup of his 
hands, shouted into the darkness: 

" Hullo I Hullo ! " And the same terrified voice cried 
in answer, only weaker now, and choking, as if already 
the silent flowing water had begun to take its toll. 

Chris caught up the strap. He fastened one end round 
his wrist and gave the other to the man, who stood 
shaking and helpless beside him: 

"Here! Take this, and don't let it go! I'm going 
in!" 

He took the plunge through the darkness blindly. 
The water was icy cold as it closed over his head, and he 
could feel the rushes and weeds clutching at him as he 
struggled up to the surface. 

He shouted again breathlessly, and the faint cry came 
again close beside him this time, it seemed. 

He struck out desperately, every nerve strained, and 
then suddenly his hand came into contact with something 
which at first he thought was a man's arm, but it seemed 
to slip beneath the water before he could grip it. 

He groped round desperately, cursing the darkness, and 
bis fingers caught in the soft silkiness of a woman's hair. 

There was no mistaking it this time. Twisting it 
anyhow about his wrist and arm so she could not slip 
from him, he turned for the bank again, guided by the 
strap which still held 

He was hampered by his clothes and the weight of 
the woman, though from what he could tell she seemed 
small and light enough, and he was almost exhausted 
by the time he reached tiie bank. 

There were several figures there now, and a lantern 
flashed a bright light into his face as willing hands 
dragged him ashore with his burden. 

He fell heavily as soon as he reached the bank and lay 
prone for a moment, panting and exhausted. 

Someone came to his help, but he waved him away. 

"I'm all right — there's another out there — a man, I 
thmk." 



286 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Presently he struggled to his feet The mist seemed 
to have risen a little, and above it a pale moon gleamed 
f sdntly down on to the silent river. 

A small boat had been pushed ofF from the bank, and 
Chris could hear the splash of sculls through the mist 

A group of men were bending over the figure of a girl 
lying on Uie bank — the girl he hkd pulled from the water, 
Chris supposed. He drew a little nearer, and looked 
down at her as she lav there, the light of the lantern 
falling on her upturned face. Then he gave a g^eat cry 
of agony and fell on his knees beside her, clutching her 
limp body with desperate hands^ for the girl was his own 
wife — Marie Celeste, 



CHAPTER XXIV 

** World if you know what is righti 
Take me in his stead, 
Bury me deep out of sight, 
I am the one that's dead." 

THEY took Marie back to the Yellow Sheaf Inn, on 
the Oxford road, carrying her on a rough stretcher 
made of a broken gate, covered with coats, and 
Chris walked beside her, holding her hand in his. 

A doctor had come from Somerton, and they took her 
away from him upstairs, and shut the door. 

The woman who kept the inn came up to him as he 
stood on the landing outside her room and tried to 
persuade him to come away and change his wet clothes. 

" You'll take your death of cold," she said in kindly 
anger. "There's a suit of my husband's that you're 
welcome to, sir, I'm sure." 

Chris thanked her absently, but hardly heard what 
she was saying. In his heart he was sure that Marie 
was dead, though as yet the shock of the tragedy kept 
him from feeling an34hing acutely. 

It was a nightmare as yet — ^that was all! And he 
had the childish feeling that if he were patient, he would 
wake up and be able to laugh at it all. 

Presently the woman climbed the stairs again with a 
cup of steaming coffee, into which she had put a strong 
dose of brandy. She stood over him as if she had been 
his mother while he drank it. 

" It's no use everyone getting ill," she scolded. " If 
the poor dear in there wants you, yoU won't be in a 
fit state to go to her." 

She had struck the right note, and Chris went oft 
obediently to change his clothes. 

The mist seemed to have quite cleared away as he 

287 



288 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

looked towards the window for a moment, and there 
was bright moonlight — ^as bright as it had been that ni^ht 
when he went out on to the sea with Mrs. Heriot and the 
skiff broke away — so long ago it seemed! 

He shivered, and went back to the door of Marie's 
room. 

Feathers was dead — ^he knew that now — but as yet 
had not been able to realize it He knew that down 
on the river bank men were still searching for him — ^un- 
successfully. It was a horrible thought. He knew he 
would never be able to rid himself of the feeling of those 
slimy reeds and rushes that had tried to drag him down 
with them. 

Feathers was dead! Chris knew that it must have 
been his arm about which his groping fingers had first 
closed. He shut his eyes with a sense of physical 
sickness. 

Where was this tragedy, which had begtui with his 
own selfishness, going to end? 

Supposing Marie died, too ! He gripped his arms above 
his heart as if to still the terrible pain that was rending 
him. He did not deserve that she should live, he knew. 
His face was ashen when presently her door opened and 
the doctor came out. 

He was a young man and sympathetic He put a 
kindly hand on Chris' shoulder. 

"It's all right," he said. "She'll be all right- 
thanks to you. Shock to the system, of course, but" 
— ^he gave an exclamation of concern as Chris swayed — 
"you'd better come downstairs and let me prescribe 
for you," he said bluntly. " No, you can't see your wife 
yet. That face of yours would only make her worse." 

He would not allow Chris to see her that night 

" She must be kept perfectly quiet. My dear chap, 
listen to reason," he urged, when Chris objected. ** Ek) 
you want to kill her outright ? No ? Very well, then, do 
as I say." 

He hesitated, then asked : " Were yoti with her — in 
the car?" 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 289 

"No" — Chris' voice shook — "my friend was with 
her," he added, turning his face away. 

" I see. Terrible thing— terrible ! " 

Chris followed him to the door. 

"And — my wife? You are sure — quite sure?" he 
asked in agony. 

"Quite sure . . . She wants rest, of course, but it's 
been a most wonderful escape." He hesitated. " They 
haven't found the other poor fellow yet ? " he asked. 

" No." 

He saw the grief in Chris' face, and held out his hand. 

"You did your best; it was a gallant thing — agoing 
into the river like that — in the darkness. They would 
both have gone but for you." 

" You'd best go to bed, sir," the innkeeper's wife said 
to Chris, as he went back upstairs. " Lie down and try 
to sleep: I'll call you the very minute if she asks for 
you." 

But he would not, and in the end she brought an 
armchair to the door of Marie's room, and, worn out with 
exhaustion and emotion, Chris fell asleep in it. 

He woke to daylight and the tramp of feet on the road 
outside. He stared up and stood listening and shaking 
in every limb. 

He knew what it meant — ^they were bringing Feathers 
in . . . 

The awfulness of it seemed to come home to him 
with overwhelming force as he stood there and listened. 

He had lost his best friend — ^the man who for years 
had been more to him than a brother, and they had 
parted in anger. He had refused to shake hands with 
him — ^he would have given five years of his life now to 
live that moment again. 

The innkeeper's wife came tiptoeing to him across 
the little landing as he stood looking out of the window 
on to the road. She had been up with Marie all night, 
and whispered to him now that she had fallen asleep. 

" Such a lovely sleep, bless her ! " she said, with pride. 
** And if you was to be very quiet . . ." 



290 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

No more words were needed. Chris went past her and 
into the room where Marie lay. 

She was fast asleep, her hair spread out over the pil- 
low like a dark wing, and Chris went down on his knees 
beside her and hid his face. She had nobody now in the 
world but him — Miss Chester had gone, and Feathers... 
Oh, he would make it up to her ! He would spend his 
whole life trying to make up to her all she had suffered 

" I love you, I Jove you," he said aloud, as if she could 
hear, but she did not move or stir, and presently he went 
away again. 

He had not kissed her — ^not even her hands. Some- 
thing seemed to hold him back from doing so, until 
she herself should say that he might. 

The news of the accident had spread like wildfire, 
and all the morning people were walking out from the 
villages round about to stare with morbid interest at the 
spot on the river bank where the car had plunged into 
the water, or to crowd outside the inn in the hope of 
catching a glimpse of Chris. 

The doctor came again, and was very pleased vdth 
Marie's progress. 

"I think she could be taken home to-day," he told 
Chris. " It will be just as well to get her from this 
place." 

Chris said he would make all arrangements. 

" I can see her, of course? " he asked. 

** Yes." But the doctor looked away from his anxious 
eyes. " I should not worry her or question her at all," 
he said diffidently, and then he added uncomfortably: 
** She seems somehow afraid at the thought of seeing 
you." 

" Afraid ! " The color rushed to Chris' face. 

" Yes. Perhaps it is only my fancy, but she seemed 
nervous, I thought, when I mentioiied you." He looked 
at the young man kindly. " Be gentle with her," he said, 
" I think she has suffered very much." 

Chris did not answer, and the doctor went away. 

Afraid ! Afraid of him, when he loved her so ! It was 
another hard blow to Chris to feel that Marie did not 






A BACHELOR HUSBAND 291 

wish to see him. He tried to make allowances for her. 
He knew what she had suffered. With sudden impulse 
he ran downstairs, overtaking the doctor in the hall 
below. 

" My wife — does she know — ^that . . . that Feathers 
was drowned ? " he asked jaggcdly. 

"Feathers?" the other man echoed, not understand- 
ing. "Oh you mean that poor fellow. Yes — I told 
her '' 

" What— what did she say ? " 

"Nothing — she just turned her face away." 

"I see. Thank you." Chris went upstairs slowly. 
He stood for a long time at his wife's door, not daring 
to knock, but at last he summoned his courage. 

He heard her say " Come in " in a little quiet voice, 
and he opened the door. 

She was dressed and sitting up in a big chair. She 
did not look so ill as he had expected, was his first relieved 
thought, and yet in some istrange way she seemed to have 
changed. Was it that she looked older? He could not 
determine, but her eyes met his steadily, almost as if 
she did not recognize him, and her voice was quite even 
as she answered his broken question. 

"I am — ^much |>etter, thank you," and then: 
" The doctor says I may go home." 

" Yes — I will take you this afternoon." 

She twisted her fingers together restlessly, her eyes 
downcast, then quite suddenly she raised them to his 
face. 

"I wish you had let me drown," she said, with 
passionate intensity. 

" Marie — Marie," said Chris, in anguish. 

She seemed heedless of his pain and went on talking 
as if to herself. "I'm no use to anybody. I bring nothing 
biit trouble with me ! That fortune-teller was right, you 
sec, when she told me that she could see water in my life 
again — ^that would bring trouble . . . and tears ! " Her 
voice fell almost to a whisper. 

Chris stood looking at her helplessly. She seemed in 



i 



292 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

some strange way to be a great distance from him^ and 
yet by putting out! his hand he could have touched her. 

" Feathers gave his life for me" she went on, in that 
curious sing-song tone. '' He could have saved himsdf, 
but he would not leave me — and we were . . . crfi, hours 
in that dreadful darkness!" 

"Don't think of it, Marie! Oh, my dear, try and 
forget it all." 

She raised her haunted brown eyes to his face. 

"I can't! I can't hear anything any more but the 
sound of that dreadful river ! It was like a voice, mock- 
ing us. And he was so brave ! " She caught her breath 
with a long, shuddering sob, but no tears came. 

" I am glad that he loved me," she said again pres- 
ently. " It is something to be proud of — ^always — ^that 
Feathers loved me." 

Chris could not bear to look at her tragic f ace« She had 
no thought for him, he knew, but she had never been so 
inexpressibly dear to him as she was now. 

He was at his wits' end to know what to do vrith her. 
It was impossible to take her home with Miss Chester 
lying dead in the house, and there seemed nobody to 
whom he could turn for help. 

Presently, he said gently: 

" I shall have to run up to Town this afternoon— only 
for an hour or two. I shall come back as soon as pos- 
sible. You don't mind, Marie ? " 

" Oh, no ! " She seemed surprised at the question. " I , 
shall be quite all right." 

But still he lingered. He longed to put his arms round 
her and speak the many wild, passionate words of re- 
morse and grief that trembled on his lips, but the new 
inexplicable aloofness of that girlish figure held him back. 

" You are quite sure you don't mind being left ? " he 
asked again. He longed for her to say that she wanted 
him to stay, but Marie only shook her head. 

" I shall be quite all right," she said, apathetically. 

He left her then, and presently from the window Marie 
saw him driving away down the road. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 293 

She gave a little sigh of relief, and for a moment cov- 
ered her face with her hands. 

She was free for a littiie while at last — free from the 
possibility of interruption. She crossed the room and 
opened the door. The little inn was very quiet, and no- 
body seemed to hear her step as she crept down the stairs 
and across the narrow, uneven hall to a closed door. 
She knew what lay behind that door, and for a moment 
she caught at the banisters with a sick f eelii/g of anguish 
before she went steadily on and turned the handle. 



CHAPTER XXV 

^ Oh heart that neither beats nor heaves* 
In that one darkness lying still. 
What now for thee my love's great will? 
Or the fine web the sunshine weaves? ** 

C D. RossEm 

MARIE had never seen death, but there was do 
fear in her heart as she softly closed the door 
behind her, and went forward into the room. 

The cotton blind at the window fitted badly, and 
gleams of sunlight found their way through on either 
side of it, seeming to concentrate in a strangely delib- 
erate manner about the silent figure of the man who had 
given his life for her. 

A white sheet covered him, but Marie's hand did not 
tremble as she gently drew it down and looked at the 
marble whiteness of Feathers* ugly face. 

Death had been kind to hinu It had wiped out the' 
hard lines, and left him with a peculiarly noble, and 
bojrish look. But even the waters of the treacherous 
river had been unable to smooth his rough hair, and it 
stood up over his head with just the same obstinate 
untidiness that she had always known, and with sudden 
impulse she laid her hand on it, smoothing it gently, as a 
mother might smooth the hair of a sleeping child. 

Were there two ways of loving, she was asking herself 
desperately? and was it possible to love two men at the 
same time, or had she indeed ceased to love Chris ? 

Feathers had given her her first man's kiss of passion. 
In his arms she had first known complete happiness, and 
it seemed a crude impossibility that she would never hear 
his voice again, that his eyes would never open any more 
to^look at her with their faithful adoration. 

And it came home to her with bitter truth as she stood 

294 






A BACHELOR HUSBAND 295 

there, that in her selfishness, and self absorption, she 
must have caused him great suffering. 

Last night, right from the first moment of their meet- 
ing at the inn, he had thought only of her, never once 
of himself — even down to the very end, when wounded 
to death, he had given his last ounce of strength to save 
her, spent his last breath on woi-ds of cheer and en- 
couragement. 

And what had she given him in return ? — ^little enough 
it seemed now, as she looked at his marble face about 
which the autumn sunshine flickered. 

He had loved her so completely, and now she would 
never be able to tell him how much she honored him, 
loved him! 

For Marie Celeste knew that she did love him! Not 
perhaps with romantic passion with which she had once 
loved Chris; not perhaps as she would some day love 
Chris again — ^but with the wonderful, trusting, imperish- 
able love which one must feel for a friend who has never 
failed. 

Her heart ached for the sound of his voice — ^to hear him 
say that he understood and forgave. His last kiss on the 
dark road that night would always be one of her most 
cherished memories she knew, as she stood there, her 
eyes fixed on his face, while her heart made its last fare- 
well. 

He had told her to go back to Chris — she knew that it 
had been his earnest wish, and she knew too, that some 
day she would obey. 

But not yet! oh not yet! She must have a little time 
first to herself to get back her lost courage, and to forget 
the sweetness of a lost dream. 

She took the little sprig of white heather which he had 
sent her from Scotland — so long ago it seemed — and 
which she had always worn about her neck, and laid it 
between his folded hands. Then she kissed him as so 
short a time ago he had kissed her — ^his hands, and his 
closed eyes, his rough coarse hair, and the lips that felt 
like marble beneath her own. 

She was sobbing now — cruel sobbing that brought with 



i 



296 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

it no relief of tears as she whispered a last good-bjre^ and 
over and over again " God bless jrou — Goa tdess yoo— 
always — ^always." 

And it seemed to her distraught imagination that now 
there was a little smile of contentment shadowing 
Feathers' cold lips, where before no smile had been, and 
something seemed to snap on her heart and brain as 
she cried his name in anguish through the silent room. 

" Feathers I— Feathers ! " 

And the woman who kept the inn came running swiftly 
at the sound of a fall, and found Marie Celeste lying 
senseless, her arms flung out towards the man who, for 
the first time in his life, could not hear or answer when 
she called to him. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

"And justice stood at the proud man's side, 
'Whose is the fault? Accuse! ' it cried; 
And the proud man answered in humbled tone, 
' I caxmot accuse— the f aulU is mine own.' 



I »» 



CHRIS got back to Miss Chester's deserted Town 
house to find young Allans on the doorstep, star* 
ing with horrified eyes at the drawn blinds. 

He had heard of the accident at Somerton it appeared, 
and had rushed off to assure himself that Marie was safe. 
He was shocked to hear of Miss Chester's death, and his 
young face was white and sobered as he followed Chris 
into Uie silent house. 

He was very boyish and sincere in his sympathy, and 
though Chris had never particularly cared for him, he 
was glad of his sjonpathy. 

" I say, it's awful, you know ! " young Atkins said 
aghast. " Miss Chester, and poor old Feathers ! I say, 
what a shocking thing! And what a marvelous escape 
Mrs. Lawless must have had." 

" Feathers saved her," said Chris, and impetuously he 
began to pour out something of his present difficulties, 
of how impossible it was to bring Marie to London. 

" I've got a sister — " young Atkins made the sugges- 
tion eagerly. " She lives close to Somerton, and she's a 
nurse, but she's not doing anything just now. I'll run 
down and explain to her. I've got a motor-bike. She'd 
love to have Mrs. Lawless, if you'd care for her to go." 

Chris was only too glad of the suggestion. 

" It's most awfully good of you," he said gratefully. 
*' You see how impossible it is for me to bring her here ? " 

" Of course ! Well, this will be all right, you see ; I'll 
run down there straight away." He turned at the door in 
his impetuous fashion. " I say — " he said again, " Poor 
old Feathers I Isn't it awful." 

297 



1 



298 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

Chris could not answer, and young Atkins went on 
blunderingly: " I say, is it true what they say in the pa- 
pers, that when they found him — someone told me — both 
his legs were broken? It must have been when the car 
turned over ... my God, what an awful thing ! I can't 
imagine how he kept up as he did . . . oh, all rigtit, Tm 
going." 

He went off hurriedly, and Chris put his head down on 
his arms and cried like a child. 

He blamed himself mercilessly, and forgave his friend 
everything, if indeed there had ever been anything to 
forgive. He felt that he had grown into an old man dur- 
ing those hours of agony last night when he waited 
outside the closed door of his wife's room. 

She was living, but she cared nothing for him, and he 
could almost find it in his heart to envy Feathers who, 
although he was dead, had once known the happiness of 
her love. 

He had stood beside his friend that morning, and held 
the hand he had refused, his heart almost breaJcing with 
grief and remorse. 

He could trace everything back to his own selfishness 
and neglect. But for him, this tragedy would never have 
happened. 

No wonder Marie had loved Feathers — ^the most un- 
selfish, the kindest hearted ... he felt his own unworthi- 
ness keenly. 

He made what arrangements he could in Town and 
hurried back to Somerton, and the woman who kept the 
inn told him how she had found Marie unconscious in the 
room downstairs. 

" Unconscious for an hour she was," she said dis- 
tressed. " I put her to bed and sent for the doctor. I 
don't know how she came down without my hearing her. 
I wouldn't have had it happen for the world." 

Chris' face whitened. Although dead, it seemed to 
him that in the future Feathers would stand more effec- 
tually between him and his happiness than ever he had 
done in life. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 299 

A fresh punishment upon which he had not yet reck- 
oned. 

He was not allowed to see Marie that night, and it was 
two days before the doctor would consent to her being 
moved. 

She looked so white and frail that Chris' heart sank as 
he carried her down to the car. She was like a child in his 
arms, and it hurt him intolerably to see how resolutely 
her eyes avoided him. 

She never spoke during the short drive to the village 
where young Atkins' sister lived. She asked no ques- 
tions, seemed not to care what was to become of her. 

" If you would rather I stayed with you, of course, 
I will," Chris said hoarsely, when he bade her good-bye 
that evening. He longed with all his soul for her to ask 
him to stay, but she only shook her head. 

She seemed quite happy to be left with Millicent 
Atkins, and Chris felt sure she would be safe/ with her 
and well cared for. ^ 

" I will come and see you every day, Marie Celeste," 
Chris said again, and she said: "Yes, thank you," but 
he had the curious impression all the time that she hardly 
heard or understood what he was saying. 

It was only just as he was going and had impulsively 
raised her hand to his lips to kiss it that a little look 
almost of horror crossed her white face. 

" No — ^no — ^please ! " she said. 

She tore her hand from him and ran from the room. 

" She will be better soon," Millicent assured Chris, 
seeing the pain in his eyes as he bade her good-bye, " If 
you take my advice, Mr. Lawless, you will leave her alone 
for a day or two. She has had a terrible shock, you 
know." She was a kind-faced girl, with steady, capable 
eyes that had seen a great deal more than she had been 
told. 

Chris would not listen. He must come down the fol- 
lowing day, he said; he could not rest if he stayed away. 

He felt desperate as he drove back to London. What 
was the good of living? There was nothing in the future 
for him. 



300 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

He made up his mind that he would sell the London 
house and everything in it as soon as possible, and take 
Marie away and make a fresh start ; but . . . would she 
go with him? Somehow he did not think that she 
would. 

He had left it to Millicent Atkins to break the news of 
Miss Chester's death to her, and it was with an unhappy 
heart that he went down to the cottage the following 
afternoon. 

Millicent came to him in the garden, as she saw him 
drive up. Her eyes were compassionate. 

" I am so sorry, Mr. Lawless, but she will not see you. 
Somehow, I felt sure this would happen, and that was 
why I asked you to stay awav for a little while. Oh, 
don't look like that," she added, as Chris turned his face 
away. 

" You must just humor her a little," she went on gently. 
" Things will come all right in the end, I am sure . . ." 
She hesitated, then : " She asked me to give you this 
letter," she added. 

Chris took it without a word. He drove away again 
along the dusty, sunny road by which he had come, with 
here and there a glimpse of the river sparkling like dia- 
monds in the sunlight between its green banks. 

There was nothing cruel about it to-day, he thought. 
It was all smiling and seductive, and he shivered as he 
remembered the feel of the wet, slimy reeds, and realized 
what his friend's death must have been in the mist and 
darkness. 

He did not open Marie's letter till he got back home, 
and he read it in the deserted drawing-room where she 
and Miss Chester had so often sat together. The house 
felt like a tomb now, he thought wretdiedly. He wished 
never to see it again. 

Marie's letter was very short : 

" Please do not try to see me. I can't bear it I 
want time to think things over and decide what to do. 
I will send for you if ever I want you. — Marie Celeste." 

That was all ; but it was like a death warrant to him. 

If ever she wanted him! His heart told him that she 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 301 

would never want him again! He had had his chance 
and thrown it away. 

During the days that followed, in his distress and 
loneliness, Chris fell back a great deal upon young At- 
kins. 

After Miss Chester's funeral and the closing of the 
house it was Chris' suggestion that he and Atkins should 
go into rooms together. Chris hated the idea of his 
own company, and he knew that as long as he lived he 
would never find another friend to take Feathers' place. 

He had suffered acutely over his friend's tragic death ; 
he could not bear to speak of him. He even put away 
his golf sticks because they were such a vivid reminder 
of the happy days they had spent together. 

" I never want to play the beastly game again !" he told 
a man who questioned him about it in the club one night. 

He was at a terribly loose end in those days and 
young Atkins was just the right sort of companion for 
him — always cheery and bright and full of the optimism 
of youth. 

He had quarreled badly with his father and had been 
cut off with the proverbial shilling. 

" Not that it matters," he said philosophically. " I've 
got about two hundred a year the mater left me, and I 
reckon I can always knock up another two hundred." 

He had decided to go to America, but for Chris' sake 
he put it off indefinitely. He felt that it was doing some- 
thing for Marie if he helped her husband through the 
dark days before him. Though he did not know anything 
like the whole of the story, he was shrewd enough to 
piece together the few little bits which Chris sometimes 
let drop. 

He was intensely sorry for them both and would have 
given a great deal to have helped put things right. Once, 
unknown to Chris, he hired a motor-bike and went down 
to see Marie and his sister. 

He found them in the garden, pacing together up and 
down the little lawn. 

It was autumn then, and the bosom of the river was 
covered with brown and yellow leaves from the trees on 



302 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

its banks. There was an acrid smell in the air, too, 
which always comes with the end of summer. 

He thought Marie was pleased to see him — certainly 
the color deepened a little in her pale face when she 
first saw him. 

But she had changed 1 Oh, how she had changed, he 
thought sadly. There was not much left of the little giil 
who had first of all attracted his boyish fancy. 

He talked of everything tmder the sun, rattling (m in 
his usual haphazard manner, and she listened gravely, 
sometimes smiling, but hardly speaking. 

He did not mention Chris or tell her that they were 
sharing rooms — ^much more expensive rooms tiian he 
could possibly have afforded alone; but Chris had 
insisted on paying the difference. 

It was just as he was going, and Millicent had left 
them together for a little while, that Marie said suddenly: 

" Tommy — do you know that it's a month to-day since 
— Mr. Dakers died?" 

He started and flushed in confusion. 

"Is it? A month! How the time flies, doesn't 
it?" 

" Yes." She was looking out across the open country 
at the back of the little house, and he thought he had 
never before seen such sadness in anyone's face. 

He laid a hand on hers in clumsy comfort. 

" It was a fine sort of death, anyway," he said in 
desperation. " Just the sort of death a man like Feathers 
would have chosen . . . Marie — ^he saved your life 
twice." 

He realized too late that he had spoken tactlessly, but 
to his surprise she only smiled — a wise little smile which 
he could not fathom. 

" Yes," she said softly, almost happily it seemed. 

There was a little silence, then he broke out again. 

" It seems a lifetime since we all met for the first time 
down at that bally old hotel, doesn't it? you and I, and 
Chris, and poor old Feathers." 

" It's only a little more than three months/' she told 
him. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 303 

"Is it?" he cleared his throat nervously. "Jove! 
how time flies," he said again, reminiscently. 

They sat silent for some minutes, then he rose to his 
feet, and said that he must be going. 

"I told Chris I would be in at seven," he said un- 
thinkingly, then stopped, furious with himself for having 
mentioned the name he had sworn to avoid. 

She looked up quickly, her brown eyes dilating. 

" Chris! Are you living with him then?" 

** Yes." He twisted his cap with agitated fingers. " He 
went back to his Knightsbridge rooms after — well, after 
Miss Chester's house was sold, you know, but of course 
you do know." 

She shook her head. 

" I have not seen him for a month." 

Young Atkins looked wretched. He knew from the 
little Chris had told him that this separation had been her 
own wish, and therefore he could not understand her 
attitude now. 

He did not know that she had written that last note to 
her husband more as a test than for any other reason. 
With her old childish way of reasoning, she had argued 
to herself that if he really cared for her nothing on earth 
would keep him away ; and once again she had been dis- 
appointed. He had apparently agreed without a word of 
demur — he had never attempted to approach her. 

" I know he\jolly miserable, anyway," young Atkins 
broke out explosively after a moment. " He never goes 
anywhere — ^he just sits and smokes and thinks. He's 
changed so! It's ratten! And he used to be such a 
cheery soul." 

He seemed afraid all at once that he had said too much, 
for he made another attempt to escape. 

Marie went with him to the gate. 

" Your sister has been so good to me," she said sud- 
denly. " I don't know what I should have done without 
her. I shall miss her dreadfully when I go away." 

He looked up in swift distress. 

" But you're not going ! You mustn't ! She's ever so 
pleased to have you with her. Where are you going? " 



(I 



ti 



304 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

She looked away from him down the dusky road, and 
there was a little eloquent pause before she said slowly: 

" I'm going back — to Chris." 

" To Chris I " he could hardly believe it. He gripped 
both her hands. "Hooray! how perfectly splendid! 
Oh, forty thousand hoorays I " 

She disengaged herself from his bearlike grip. 

" Oh, Tommy — ^please !" She sounded more like her 
old self now, he thought with some emotion. There was 
a suspicious moisture in his eyes as he looked down 
at her. 

When ? " he asked eagerly. 

When ? Oh, I don't know yet." There was a note of 
nervous shrinking in her voice. 

It's his birthday to-morrow," young Atkins said. 
I know. I've been thinking of that all day." 

He caught her round the waist. 

" You darling ! To-morrow then I I'll make myself 
scarce. We were going to have an extra dinner by way 
of celebration — he wasn't keen, but it was my idea ! I'M 
pretend to let him down, and you come instead." 

She fell into his mood, and they made their plans like 
eager children. It was only when young Atkins was 
just starting away that she caught his arm for a moment, 
and her face was white in the gray light. 

" The summer's quite gone, Tompiy," she said sadly. 
" I often wonder if it doesn't mean that my summer has 
gone too, and that it's too late now." 

He pooh-poohed her words scornfully. 

" Nonsense! As if summer doesn't ever come again! 
Why, next year will be a topper, you'll see ! The best in 
your life." 

They were both silent for a moment, listening to the 
monotonous lap, lap of the river as it flowed swiftly along 
between its rush-grown banks. 

" I hate that sound," young Atkins broke out 
vehemently. ' " I wonder you can bear to have been so 
near to it after . . . there! I didn't mean that! I'm 
such a blundering ox." 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 305 

She smiled through tlie sudden tears that rushed to her 
eyes. 

" I've never minded it like that, somehow, Tommy. 
It's never been as terrible to me as — as perhaps it should 
be. I've often thought that those dreadful minutes when 
it seemed as if — the end of everything had come for — 
for both of us — ^when Feathers was so brave — so won- 
derful ! Washed everything mean, and small, and unfor- 
giving, out of my heart — forever." 

She looked up at the dark sky overhead where some 
little stars were twinkling palely. 

Feathers had once told her that she was as far above 
him as the stars . . . she never looked at them now with- 
out thinking of him, and wondering if somewhere — ^he 
still thought of her. 

It was she who had led him into temptation— «she still 
had that to tell to Chris — if he cared to listen. 

To-morrow then," she said, and young Atkins echoed 

To-morrow," as he sprinted off down the road, disap- 
pearing in a cloud of dust. 

Marie waited at the gate till the last sound of the motor 
had died away in the distance, then she went slowly back 
to the house. 

^ The voice of the river was still in her ears with its 
bitter memories, but there was a new look of content- 
ment in her eyes as she turned for a moment at the door, 
and looked up at the stars. 

" I'm going back, dear," she said in a whisper, as if 
there was someone very close to her in the dusky even- 
ing who could hear. " I'm going back, dear." 



u 



CHAPTER XXVII 

** But ah 1 ^e little things for which I sigh, 
As each day passes by, 
The open book, the flower upon the floor. 
The diiinty disarray. 
The sound of passing feet. 
Alas, the little things of every day! 
The silent eve, my sweet, 
The lonely waJdng. 
Alas I alas 1 for little things 
My heart is breaking." 

CHRIS woke up on the morning of his birthday with 
the very real hope in his heart that the post might 
bring him some message from Marie Celeste. She 
had never before forgotten his birthday. Even when he 
saw that there was no letter from her he could hardly 
believe that there would be none later. 

He hung about his rooms all the morning, till young 
Atkins dragged him out by main force. 

" What's file matter with you that you're so fond of 
the house all at once ? " he demanded disgustedly. He had 
previously had a heart-to-heart talk with their landlady 
and given her many instructions with regard to flowers 
and a lavish dinner that night. 

"For only you two gentlemen, sir?" she had asked 
amazed, and Tommy had said : " No — I shan't be there 
— ^there's a lady coming." Then seeing the faint dis- 
approval of her eyes, he added, chuckling: " Cheer up! 
It's all right ! She's his wife ! " He had told her enough 
of the truth to enlist her s)mipathy, packed his bag, and 
promptly proceded to lose Chris as soon as he had got 
him out of the house. 

" I'll call for you at the club at six," were his last 
words. " And mind you're there." 

Chris was there an hour before, chiefly because he had 
nothing else to do. He was irritated and annoyedi 

306 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 307 

therefore, when the door porter informed him that Mr. 
Atkins had left a message to the effect that he could not 
get to the club, but would be at the rooms at seven. 

" And would you be sure to be there, sir," he added. 

Qiris frowned as he turned away. He had a great mind 
not to go home at all, but to leave Atkins in the lurch. He 
thought it very shabby of him, all things considered, 
but it came on to rain and the streets looked dull and tm- 
inviting, so he took a taxi and went home. 

Home ! He echoed the word in his heart wretchedly. 
What a home for a man to go to when he might have 
everything in the world he wanted, and a wife to smile 
at him from the other side of his own table ! He missed 
Marie a hundred times a day — ^her step about the house — 
her voice— even the sight of her slippers and small per- 
sonal belongings. 

He took off his coat and hat in the hall, and went up- 
stairs. There was a light in his room, and he could catch 
a glimpse of the table laid for dinner, and flowers . . . 
so many flowers there seemed. 

" I don't know why you chucked money away on 
all this tomfoolery," he said shortly, as he pushed open 
the door. " If you think because it's my bally birthday 
. . . Marie Celeste ! " The last words were a great cry 
as his wife rose from his big chair by the fire. 

For a moment he stood staring at her with disbeliev- 
ing eyes. He had longed for her so much all day; had 
been so hurt because she had forgotten his birthday, and 
now — ^here she was ! 

She was very pale, but she was smiling. She had taken 
off her hat and coat and looked very young and sweet 
in her little black frock, the dark hair curling softly about 
her face. 

Chris could not find his voice, could hardly breathe. 
He was so sure that if he spoke the spell would be broken 
and that she would vanish from his longing eyes. 

Then quite suddenly, she said: 

" I've come back, Chris — if you want me." 
• " If I want you ! '* He fell on his knees beside her, and 
his shaking arms closed fast about her. 



308 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

He had meant to try and explain so many 
had planned so often in his mind what he would say to 
her, how he would hiunble himself and ask her forgive- 
ness, but now that the time had come, there seem^ no 
need for any of it. 

Kisses and broken words, and the dasp of arms that 
had ached with loneliness and emptiness were more do- 
quent than the finest speech could have been. It was only 
when the landlady had knocked three times to ask if she 
should bring dinner that Chris thought about appearances,^ 
and then he kept his wife's hand in his all the time the 
choice dishes which young Atkins had chosen so care- 
fully were put upon the table. 

They pretended to eat a great deal, but it was only a 
pretense, and when the landlady had ronoved the last 
dish in offended silence Qiris drew Marie Celeste down 
into his arms in the big chair. 

He passed his hand over her face and hair and soft 
neck. 

" I can't believe you're real," he said huskily. " How 
long are you going to keep me in my fool's paradise 
before you disappear again, Marie Celeste? " She raised 
herself and looked at him with mournful e^es. 

" I couldn't come before," she answered ** I had to 
be sure first." 

" Sure — of me? " he asked. 

She shook her head. 

" No ; of myself." 

The dark flush of pain swept across his face. 

" You mean — that you had to be sure whether 3rotx . . . 
you still cared for me at all." 

She looked away from him. 

" I loved you when you were a little boy — ^years ago," 
she said in a tremulous whisper. " I loved you when you 
went to Cambridge, and snubbed me so dreadfully when 
you came home . , . Chris — I loved you when I married 
you." 

He raised her hand to his lips silently. The words 
were sweet, but it was not all that he wished to hear, and 
she went on disconnectedly. 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 309 

"Chris — ^you know ... I thought you had only 
married me for — for the money ... I never knew till — 
till that last night " 

He interrupted. 

" I don't want to hear — it was all my fault," 

" But I must tell you," she urged. " There is some- 
thing I must tell you. It was my fault — everything that 
happened . . . about . . . about Feathers. You made 
me half mad, I think, and — and it was I who asked him 
to take me away. It was / who asked him — he was much 
too honorable . . . I — I can't bear that — ^that you should 
blame him." 

*• I blame myself — for everything," but his eyes 
searched her face with passionate jealousy. 

"You said you hated me once," he reminded her 
morosely. " Marie Celeste, when did — when did you 
begin to care again?" 

She looked away from him. Somehow she could not 
meet his eyes. There was a knowledge in her heart which 
she knew must always be a secret from him — the knowl- 
edg of her queer, inexplicable love for Feathers. 

It was still there in her heart, and always would be, she 
knew, but already time had begun to soften and change 
it, as time subtly changes the outline and coloring of a 
picture without altering its beauty in the smallest degree 
— ^perhaps even adding to it. 

" I saw a photograph of you — ^in ... in his rooms," 
she whispered. " And I knew then . . . that whatever 
happened ... I could not go." 

It was the truth, neither more nor less ; the old loyalty 
and allegiance had called her back — ^perhaps the old love, 
who knows ? 

Chris' arms tightened about her. Three times he had 
been so near to losing her, twice by death, and once — ^by 
something that would have been so infinitely worse! 

He drew Marie down to him, and kissed her with 
passionate thankfulness . 

" He saved your life for me — ^twice ! " he said. 

It was an all-sufficient answer to any doubt or suspi- 
cion that might still linger in his heart. 



L'ENVOI 

CHRIS took Marie abroad immediately, and for a 
year they stayed away from England and its many 
poignant memories. 

They wintered in the South of France, and spent the 
late spring in Switzerland. 

" I should like to take you to Italy,'' Chris said one 
day, but Marie shook her head. 

" No— not Italy — I never want to go there." 

He wondered a little at the time, and it was only some 
days afterwards that he tmderstood, and the old jealousy 
of his friend that still slumbered deep in his heart stirred. 

He knew that Feathers' death had left a mark on 
Marie's life that neither time nor the greatness of his 
love could ever quite efface; sometimes still, its mem- 
ory would rise up like a great black wave and overwhehn 
her. 

And yet she was happy — happier than she had ever 
been ih her life, even though she felt she was looking at 
life and the beauties of the world through the sad eyes 
of a bitter experience. 

It was a surprise to Chris when one day she told him 
that she would like to go back to England. It was early 
June then, and they were at Lucerne, and the snow was 
beginning to melt on the mountain sides, and little bright 
colored flowers were springing up everywhere. 

The desire to return had often been in Chris' heart, but 
not for the world would he have said so. Marie was 
everything in his life now — ^he could not bear her out of 
his sight. 

" Tired of Lucerne? " he asked. 

" No — ^but I think I would like to go home." 

" London in June is appalling," Chris said. " Why not 
stay on here a month or two longer and then go up to 

310 



A BACHELOR HUSBAND 311 

Scotland. You've never been to Scotland, Marie 
Celeste ? " 

He watched her with moody eyes as he made the de- 
liberate suggestions. Was she going to shrink from that 
too, on account of its memories, as she had done from 
Italy? But to his relief she agreed. 

" Yes— I should like that." 

He caught her hand and raised it to his lips. 

" Scotland be it then," he said happily. ** I know a 
ripping little place, right up in the mountains at a place 
called . . ." He rubbed his head boyishly. "Dashed 
if I can remember the name," he said. 

Marie laughed. 

" I shall be happy enough, whatever its name is," she 
told him. 

But it was October before they finally went back, and 
the heather was paling, and the sunsets were wonderful 
when at last they settled down amongst the mountains 
and the silence. 

The little house in the hills was all that Chris had 
claimed for it, and the windows of Marie's rooms looked 
right out on to a mountain gorge, and a little noisy stream 
of water. 

" Happy, Marie Celeste ? " Chris asked one evening, 
coming into the room and finding her at the window, 
her face rather grave in the sunset light. 

He put an arm round her waist. "» Quite happy? " he 
asked anxiously. 

She turned her face, stood on tiptoe and kissed him. 

" I was thinking about Aunt Madge ! — I wonder if 
she knows that — that everything's all right." 

"Is it — all right?" he asked, jealously. 

She looked away from him to the wonderful sunset. 

" Don't you know that it is? " she asked. 

There was a little silence, and her thoughts went wist- 
fully to Feathers. 

He had always said she would be happy some day — 
she was happy now. 

But it seemed impossible that he was really dead — she 
could never think of him as dead but always as she had 



312 A BACHELOR HUSBAND 

known him, so ftill of health and vigor, and cheeriness, 
and with the old faithful look in his eyes. She gave a 
quick sigh and Chris said anxiously: 

" Have you got everything you want in the world, 
Marie Celeste ? " 

She laughed and blushed, rubbing her cheek against his 
coat. 

" I think perhaps I shall have — some day," she said 

He held her at arm's length. 

" What do you mean, Marie Celeste? " 

She disengaged herself gently from him, and turning, 
opened an old chest that stood at the foot of the bed. She 
pulled out something white and soft and woolly and held 
it to him. 

"Look, Chris?" 

He looked, and the color deepened in his face. 

" What is it, Marie Celeste? " he asked very gently. 

But he knew quite well that it was Miss Qiester^s 
shawl. 



THE END 



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