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after its journey across the Channel which flashed blue and
white to the horizon and broke in chalky waves at the foot
of the down, flung the girlʼs hair, loose and wet from the
sea, across her chin and throat, fluttering its straggling gold
into her eyes. The man who lay at her feet watched her
with admiration and desire as she stood sideways to the wind that threatened
to blow the sailor-cap on her head, a hundred yards down the grassy slope
into the discoloured breakers. They had been together a good deal since the
day when Algernon Deepdale—a young man well known to exist only on his
expectations and an aunt—came to the hotel at which the Grays had been
staying, and had recognized her as the partner of a dance some weeks back.
Her friendship had made the time go rapidly, and he had thrown up an
invitation in order to stay longer in the seaside town which her presence alone
made endurable. Hers was an exceptional beauty, but it was not her only
charm. She was possessed of an intelligence not very common among women,
nor was ever at a loss for ideas or words. She talked with her eyes and
hands as well as her lips, as if the momentary thought that she expressed
moved her body to the cadence of her words, her gestures giving strength to
the phrase. She was a living being, thought Deepdale, contrasting her
mentally with the lack of animation and ideas which is the portion of the
majority. Moreover, she was fond of being well dressed, as even the French
muslin blouse tied at throat and waist with an unobtainable vieux-rose-colour
ribbon attested. His eyes followed her every movement, and a little tempest
of desire went through him, as his gaze at last unconsciously attracted her and
she turned with a smile.
from her face and pulling her skirts over her ankles.
mouth, and looking up into her eyes.
answer ?”
afternoon : then because I should like you to be my wife ; and the third
reason I think you have known for some time.”
against it, and I am much too extravagant for you. Besides, I don't want to
marry anyone.”
Three months ? In another three you will have forgotten me.”
She was silent. Then suddenly she said :
time and yet you want everything or nothing, at once.”
there, Helen ?”
use in looking forward for a year.”
She laughed lightly.
dark I could barely make out your face, but I fell in love with your mouth, the
loveliest mouth in the world.”
flapped in the wind, and, far below, the blue waves curled silently into
innumerable points of foam. A steamer, infinitesimal though it seemed, left a
track of pale smoke behind it, and the sun shone joyously over all.
summer centering in the beauty of the girl at his side. “Let me look at it all
once more, since I must leave it all to-day. “How you are to be envied, you
who remain. And I have to go back to that intolerable, dusty, sultry, horrible
town !”
take back some hope of you !”
chance. I don't suppose there will be. You had better forget me altogether.
You can easily.”
abruptly. “Are you ready ?”
them and rose.
his eyes with a “Yes.”
will you ? I should be so sorry.”
you could be angry with me.”
How beautiful she was, with her little round face, her exquisite mouth and her
eyes ! “And I shall not forget you. I shall wait.”
my sake. I can promise you nothing.”
rejoined their party without more delay.
again in the town which he imagined that he hated so much. In fact, it was
desolate—with that lamentably seedy desolation which London wears for three
months out of the twelve. Piccadilly without a well-dressed man or woman is
not a pleasant sight, and Deepdale reached his rooms near that thoroughfare
in an exceedingly bad temper. His letters—including several bills and a note
from Mrs. Westham to warn him that she was coming to see him immediately
on his arrival—also displeased him.
whom he had had relations of some kind who was utterly devoted to him, and
who therefore bored him beyond all others. Though their relationship was of
long standing he hesitated to break it off, partly from the vanity of being so
able to dominate her, and partly from the desire of causing her as little pain as
possible. So long as he could keep her at a distance he was content, but
when a meeting became inevitable it was for him an unpleasant experience.
Fortunately she had her house to attend to, and he managed to arrange that
his spare hours as a rule should not coincide with hers. Her husband was
abroad for six months out of the year or her movements would have been even
more restrained. But at last he found himself at the end of his patience. Let
come what would, with the receipt of her note he determined to break off the
affair altogether.
attraction towards Helen Gray had speedily faded. He had almost forgotten
the incident of the morning. At the bottom, he had been insincere in profess-
ing love for her. She was certainly beautiful, she would in all probability, as
an only child, be fairly rich, and she was a woman he would be proud to have
for his wife, for purposes of display at Ascot or the opera. Moreover, the
gracious beauty of her form and face were a promise of deeper happiness to the
man whom she could love. But he was not very deeply hurt, he thought, by
her refusal, which, after all, was extremely sensible. His income of nine hundred
a year would be mere poverty in marriage, and it was doubtful if he would have
more for several years.
She came in hesitatingly. When the door had closed he kissed her, and
drew a chair to the window. She turned up her veil.
yellow. He would hardly have recognized her.
me?” she asked, kissing his hands.
being as fond of me now as you were a year ago ! I wonder why you have
changed ?”
She always asked the same questions and he always made the same replies.
She had very little tact, he thought ! He was prepared for another unpleasant
quarter of an hour, but he hoped that it would result in his being able to pre-
vent its recurrence in the future.
asked. “You never told me their names.”
nection with you. To think that I didnʼt know. I suppose you are engaged
to her now ?”
I will not bore you again.” She choked a little. “You are not worth my
love. I wonder if you will ever find a woman to love you as I have done.
But I won't bore you again.”
she continued, standing. “When I heard you talked about with that Gray-
girl I did not even feel jealous. I was so sure of you. But you are quite
changed. Oh, God help me ! Algy, how can I live without you ? ” she
cried, as she sank back into the chair.
back his caress. “And I had so much to tell you ! Are you tired of me ? Is
that the truth ?”
much to believe it. Tell me and let me know. Are you tired of me?”
I am not,” he answered. Then a thought struck him which made him look
curiously at her. The same thought at that moment came uppermost in her
mind, crushing out her misery for the time. She lay back in the chair and
child !”
the fact he flicked the end of his cigarette carefully into the grate before
answering. Then he said :
She nodded. Her heart was beating a tattoo and she could barely
speak.
vague feeling of pride which appeared to him to be wholly stupid, but which
he could not check, rose in him. “What are you going to do ?”
at her feet, she thought, beseeching her not to do such a thing ? He did not
answer, but stared hard at the end of the cigarette, still frowning.
excitement grew, she continued, “Algy, you are not so brutal as to wish
that, are you ?”
When is he coming back ?”
unfolded itself before him, bare of the imagined beauty with which his
thought had once bedecked it, in its plain and squalid ugliness. He was filled
in spite of himself with horror of the woman before him. It seemed—in this
crisis of his nerves—as if he could not tolerate her presence for a moment
longer. Though his face did not show his feeling, she seemed to grasp his
thought. She felt that there was no mercy to be expected from him, no hope
for her to cling to. She rose bravely.
me. Let me go. Good-bye.”
out he called his servant to open the street door for her and returned to his
room.
touching things on the tables or the mantelpiece. “Then, after a time, he went
out. At his club he found the only man he looked on as a friend, Lord
Reggie Cork, a philosophical young man whose eternal tranquillity of temper
was extremely pleasing to the nervous temperament of Deepdale.
doing in town at this time ? Do you feel inclined to go to Norway ?”
year. I am sick of town and of England too. I have been getting into
trouble.”
advice.
England on the morrow, Deepdale having arranged to let his chambers during
his absence.
did the season was well under weigh. It was an exceptionally beautiful spring,
and London was—in Deepdaleʼs eyes at least—its central and most perfect
flower. To one who had been away from it so long, the city seemed to give a
promise of new life, and, as his cab flashed down Piccadilly, the sight of the
crush of carriages, the crowd at Hyde Park Corner, lifted his heart like a
draught of wine. Lady Audley, on whom he called, was delighted to see
him. She reproached him for his long disappearance and his tardy return.
You haven't seen the new beauty," she said, laughing. In answer to his
inquiry, she continued—
be, but Lady Rivers, people say, met her somewhere or other in the winter, and
was so fascinated that she has had her under her wing for the last three weeks.
We are all raving about her.”
in love with her, I believe, and have forgotten all about it. Well, you will fall
in love with her again. That is my prophecy.”
her. Come any time after eleven.”
giving you an emotion.”
subject slipped out of his mind, and he did not mention it to any of the num-
berless acquaintances he met. Most of them seemed glad to see him, but a
few appeared to his sensitive egoism to be somewhat strange in manner. He
was wondering at this, a little annoyed, when he ran up against Lord Reggie,
whom he had not seen for several months.
a bad time.”
or it wouldnʼt matter so much. You remember a woman I saw at your place
once or twice—Mrs. Westham—the woman you told me about ?”
voice. “But that isn't all. These women are so confoundedly theatrical.
She couldnʼt make her exit from this world without letting people know why.
I dare say she didnʼt mean to harm you, but it looks as if she wanted a little
revenge at the last moment. She wrote a letter to you and left it on her table
before drinking the stuff. It came out at the inquest ; Iʼve a paper at my
rooms, but I daresay you can guess what it was.”
Deepdale, with his head bent, was gazing at the point of his stick in the
gravel.
the shock. He had nearly forgotten her, but the news of her death was like
a violent blow. “How far has it gone ?”
him an effort not to break down altogether. His knees seemed to have lost
all sensation : he could hardly steady himself, his hands shook, and his face
had gone suddenly white.
showing ʼem how you've been hit. Get into this cab,” he added as they
emerged from the archway.
I thought I was going to have a good time of it this season. You know my
aunt is dead? No? she died a week ago and left me nearly everything. Iʼve
been scraping along all this time on a few beggarly hundreds a year, and
now that itʼs thousands, this infernal woman steps in and spoils all my hand !
Damn her !”
once, weren't you ?”
walked with his head bent down. Suddenly he exclaimed :
remorse. Why had he not stayed and helped her ? He forgot how weary of
her presence he had been, and reproached himself only for his leaving her to
her trouble. What misery she must have endured ! What a beast he was !
Would he have to go through life with the consciousness of having committed
the most callous of murders, of having caused the death of the one woman who
had really loved him, wearisome though she was !
believer in Fate.
breath. He was too fond of society to be as unconventional as he wished, and
he by no means wished to give up his season.
some of the sentences became legible. He was reading her letter ; the letter
that was meant only for him, and yet was printed for everyoneʼs eyes ; trying to
skip the details of her death, though they forced themselves under his notice
and burnt themselves on his mind. It was a much saner and less effusive
letter than he expected, and was both dignified and pathetic.
He was relieved when Deepdale lifted his head and merely remarked,
out. Havenʼt you exaggerated ?”
had calmed him, and he had recovered his nerve. After all, what did it matter ?
He was not responsible for her death. He had tired of her and left her. That
was nothing unusual. Her foolishness was no fault of his. So far he satisfied
himself : and as to the scandal, he would have to live it down or go away if it
became necessary.
easily or badly, almost as he chose. Though the catastrophe might, if he had
allowed it to do so, have broken him down, yet by an effort of will he managed
to throw it on one side. The shock remained, like a wound that annoys when
the first pain has gone by, but he had determined to let it gain no ascendancy
over him. He was able to forget very easily, and he relied on this ability to
preserve him from any future outbreaks of conscience.
no scene, proceeded to discourse with some warmth to his friend on his callous-
ness and brutality. Deepdale listened meekly, and when Lord Reggie had
come to the end of his disquisition, they arranged to dine and pass the even-
ing together. It was not far from midnight when they appeared at Lady
Audleyʼs party. Deepdale was relieved to find that there was no change
towards him in any of the people to whom he spoke. A weight seemed lifted
from his heart.
momentary cessation of arrivals.
dismay into the hopelessly crowded room. “Oh, there she is,” she exclaimed,
as some movement opened a momentary space in the crush. His eyes followed
the direction of hers, and lighted on a tall fair girl with blonde hair and
enormous pale yellow sleeves.
know,” she added, good humouredly, as she turned to smile on some new
guests.
progress, but at last he succeeded in reaching her. Her welcome was more
cordial than he could have hoped, and the man to whom she had been speak-
ing moved away unwillingly.
punished. You look ever so much older, and you don't look well.”
ever,” he added, lowering his voice.
compliments !”
of this crowd ? Shall we go on the balcony ?”
far as he could, and did not omit to mention the death of his aunt and his
consequent increase of fortune.
I suppose.”
the downs ?”
of a year without a word.”
was really very necessary, and perhaps, perhaps you remember why it was of
no use for me to come back sooner ?”
everything appears just as stupid as before. There is always something want-
ing to my life. I don't know what.”
want.”
drew it gently, and stood up.
cold.”
Rivers, you know, and I have to go out with her. But I can be in on Friday,
about four, if you like.”
you once before,” he added, as they re-entered the room, and further talk
became impossible.
hour later, as they were driving home.
to come on Friday to tea.”
ought not to know such a man.”
strange fear made her tremble. “I believe he is going to ask me to marry him.”
listened to the story without the least change of expression, but in her own
room she had broken into a passion of tears. Until that moment she had
scarcely realized that she loved the man at all. She knew it at last, conquered
by jealousy of the woman he had killed. To her own despair, she was not
overwhelmed with horror for his crime. It did not seem unnatural. She only
hated the woman who had come between them. But her own state of mind
seemed like dishonour, and she suffered all the tortures of remorse for what
she could not help.
refuse, if he proposed to her, and would forget him. When Deepdale called,
she therefore welcomed him very frigidly. But she was alone, and he had
determined not to let the opportunity slip.
suddenly flashed upon him, and he swiftly decided on his course of action.
words, isn't it ? You should pity me, rather than blame me ; my life is quite
ruined. I have nothing left me now on earth.”
But it is very sad.”
life is hard enough to bear, without losing you even as a friend—for you were
my friend once, were you not ?”
all the time, knowing that I had lost you, you who were ever like a star in my
dark heaven ? Think now what my life will be, without the one hope that
filled me for so long, the one thing that made me live. I have lost that—and
I have lost everything. It is my own fault—and yet not so much my fault as
perhaps you think. It was my sin, and I must pay for it. In these days
there is no Elizabeth to forgive Tannhauser.”
she breathed rapidly.
Oh, Helen,” he cried, taking her hands as she stood before him, “I could have
loved you so well !”
kisses.
“Helen,” he said, looking into her eyes, “is it all over? Will not your
forgiveness cover even me ? Cannot the past be the past ? I am broken-
hearted for my crime. You and you only can give me new life. Will you
forgive me ? Will you not love me as I love you ?“
as he drew nearer, her head sank on his shoulder, and she uttered a little sigh
of content.
on the mouth.