"Pleasure, for itself, does not attract you. No! I know that it does not. What are you going to do, then?""I have no idea," he answered. "Won't you direct me?""Yes, I will," she answered, "if you will pay my price."He looked at her more intently. He himself had been attaching no particular importance to this conversation, but he was suddenly conscious that it was not so with the woman at his side. Her eyes were shining at him, soft and full and sweet; her beautiful bosom was rising and falling quickly; there had come to her something which even he was forced to recognize, that curious and voluptuous abandonment which a woman rarely permits herself, and can never assume. He was a little bewildered. His speech lost for a moment its cold precision.
"Your price?" he repeated. "I--I am stupid. I'm afraid I don't understand.""Marry me," she whispered in his ear, "and I will take you a little further into life than you could ever go alone You don't care for me, of course--but you shall. You don't understand this world, Wingrave, or how to make the best of it. I do! Let me be your guide!"Wingrave looked at her in grave astonishment.
"You are not by any chance--in earnest?" he asked.
"You know very well that I am," she answered swiftly. "And yet you hesitate!
What is it that you are afraid of? Don't you like to give up your liberty? We need not marry unless you choose. That is only a matter of form nowadays at any rate. I have a hundred chaperons to choose from. Society expects strange things from me. It is your companionship I want. Your money is fascinating, of course. I should like to see you spend it, to spend it with both hands. Don't be afraid that we should be talked about. I am not Lady Ruth! I am Emily, Marchioness of Westchester, and I live and choose my friends as I please; will you be chief amongst them? Hush!"For Wingrave it was providential. The loud chorus which had heralded the upraising of the curtain died away. Melba's first few notes were floating through the house. Silence was a necessity. The low passion of the music rippled from the stage, through the senses and into the hearts of many of the listeners. But Wingrave listened silent and unmoved. He was even unconscious that the woman by his side was watching him half anxiously every now and then.
The curtain descended amidst a thunder of applause. Wingrave turned slowly towards his companion. And then there came a respite--a knock at the door.
The Marchioness frowned, but Wingrave was already holding it open. Lady Ruth, followed by an immaculate young guardsman, a relative of her husband, was standing there.
"Mr. Wingrave!" she exclaimed softly, with upraised eyebrows, "why have you contrived to render yourself invisible? We thought you were alone, Emily," she continued, "and took pity on you. And all the time you had a prize."The Marchioness looked at Lady Ruth, and Lady Ruth looked at the Marchioness.
The young guardsman was a little sorry that he had come, but Lady Ruth never turned a hair.
"You must really have your eyes seen to, dear," the Marchioness remarked in a tone of tender concern. "When you can't see such an old friend as Mr. Wingrave from a few yards away, they must be very bad indeed. How are you, Captain Kendrick? Come and tell me about the polo this afternoon. Sorry I can't offer you all chairs. This is an absurd box--it was only meant for two!""Come into ours," Lady Ruth said; "we have chairs for six, I think."The Marchioness shook her head.
"I wish I had a millionaire in the family," she murmured. "All the same, Ihate large parties. I am old-fashioned enough to think that two is a delightful number."Lady Ruth laid her hand upon Wingrave's arm.
"A decided hint, Mr. Wingrave," she declared. "Come and let me introduce you to my sister. Our box is only a few yards off."
