Part 51 (1/2)

In a few hours Joyselle was returning to town, and he was glad, for the strains, more than one, to which his stay had subjected him, were telling on his nerves.

The rose-garden, even in mid-September, was a pleasant place, and as he walked along its broad gra.s.s paths the violinist wished it were July, and that the fine standard roses might be in bloom. He loved flowers, and with the curiously rapid a.s.similation of superficial knowledge common to artistic natures, had picked up a considerable amount of rose-lore at the house of some friends in Devons.h.i.+re.

There was one big yellow rose on a bush near the middle of the garden, and bending over it, he buried his nose in it.

”Victor!”

Brigit had joined him unheard, and stood looking at him, her hand held out. ”Let me give you that rose.”

But he shook his head. ”No, let it die there. It is so beautiful among the leaves. You are up early.”

”Yes. I saw you from the window, and brought you your letters.” She handed him several as she spoke.

”Thanks.”

”And--I want to thank you for staying. It is you, and only you, who have saved Tommy.”

He nodded gravely. ”I love Tommy. We must not let him overwork again, Brigit.”

”No.”

Joyselle turned over his letters without looking at them. ”Did Theo speak to you the other day about--our--that is to say, his plan?”

Her face stiffened. ”No.”

This was the first time she had succeeded in seeing Victor alone during all the five days of his stay. Un.o.btrusively but effectively he had avoided her, shutting himself, when he was not in the sick-room, in his own room, under the pretext of fatigue or correspondence. And she had not submitted to this without repeated efforts to foil his intentions.

Again and again she had made little plans to catch him alone, but she had invariably failed, and as the days pa.s.sed and she realised his strength of determination, a dull, slow fire of anger had begun to burn in her.

Theo, who had been down twice, had found her manner very unsatisfactory; she was strikingly different from what she had been in Falaise, and the young man was puzzled and hurt. While Tommy was still very ill he had borne with her change of mood with great patience, but the time was coming when he must demand an explanation. All this she felt and resented.

She looked, as she stood by the rose-bush, very tired, and older than her years, but she looked remarkably handsome; pallor and heavy eyelids did not disfigure her as they do most women.

Joyselle took out his silver box and made a cigarette.

”He was talking to me about it,” he went on, disregarding the final quality of her negative. ”And I find it very good. It is that Tommy should live much with--_you_--when you are married. Your mother does not know how to bring him up; he is delicate and high-strung, and Theo is very fond of him.”

”I am not going to marry Theo!” she burst out, exasperated beyond endurance.

He looked up. ”Are you mad?” he asked quietly.

”No. But--you seem to be trying to make me mad. I can't understand you, Victor.”

”Can't you, Brigit? I should think it was very easy. You remember what we agreed at Falaise? That----”

”That I was to marry Theo and 'live happy ever after'? Oh, yes, I remember. But do you remember how miserable you were the day before--and the day of--the wedding? And why that was?”

He was silent for a moment.