The Essential W. Somerset Maugham Collection. W. Somerset Maugham

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      'I've got lots of handkerchiefs, thanks,' she sobbed, laughing the while.

      'You must forget all the nonsense I've talked to you,' he said.

      He smiled once more and was gone.

      Dick was sitting in his bedroom, reading an evening paper, and she flung herself sobbing into his arms.

      'Oh, Dick, I've had such a lovely cry, and I'm so happy and so utterly wretched. And I'm sure I shall have a red nose.'

      'Darling, I've long discovered that you only weep because you're the only person in the world to whom it's thoroughly becoming.'

      'Don't be horrid and unsympathetic. I think Alec MacKenzie's a perfect dear. I wanted to kiss him, only I was afraid it would frighten him to death.'

      'I'm glad you didn't. He would have thought you a forward hussy.'

      'I wish I could have married him, too,' cried Julia, 'I'm sure he'd make a nice husband.'

      XXI

      The days went by, spent by Alec in making necessary preparations for his journey, spent by Lucy in sickening anxiety. The last two months had been passed by her in a conflict of emotions. Love had planted itself in her heart like a great forest tree, and none of the storms that had assailed it seemed to have power to shake its stubborn roots. Season, common decency, shame, had lost their power. She had prayed God that a merciful death might free her from the dreadful uncertainty. She was spiritless and cowed. She despised herself for her weakness. And sometimes she rebelled against the fate that crushed her with such misfortunes; she had tried to do her duty always, acting humbly according to her lights, and yet everything she was concerned in crumbled away to powder at her touch. She, too, began to think that she was not meant for happiness. She knew that she ought to hate Alec, but she could not. She knew that his action should fill her with nameless horror, but against her will she could not believe that he was false and wicked. One thing she was determined on, and that was to keep her word to Robert Boulger; but he himself gave her back her freedom.

      He came to her one day, and after a little casual conversation broke suddenly into the middle of things.

      'Lucy, I want to ask you to release me from my engagement to you,' he said.

      Her heart gave a great leap against her breast, and she began to tremble. He went on.

      'I'm ashamed to have to say it; I find that I don't love you enough to marry you.'

      She looked at him silently, and her eyes filled with tears. The brutality with which he spoke was so unnatural that it betrayed the mercifulness of his intention.

      'If you think that, there is nothing more to be said,' she answered.

      He gave her a look of such bitterness that she felt it impossible to continue a pretence which deceived neither of them.

      'I'm unworthy of your love,' she cried. 'I've made you desperately wretched.'

      'It doesn't matter about me,' he said. 'But there's no reason for you to be wretched, too.'

      'I'm willing to do whatever you wish, Bobbie.'

      'I can't marry you simply because you're sorry for me. I thought I could, but--it's asking too much of you. We had better say no more about it.'

      'I'm very sorry,' she whispered.

      'You see, you're still in love with Alec MacKenzie.'

      He said it, vainly longing for a denial; but he knew in his heart that no denial would come.

      'I always shall be, notwithstanding everything. I can't help myself.'

      'No, it's fate.'

      She sprang to her feet with vehement passion.

      'Oh, Bobbie, don't you think there's some chance that everything may be explained?'

      He hesitated for a moment. It was very difficult to answer.

      'It's only fair to tell you that now things have calmed down, there are a great many people who don't believe Macinnery's story. It appears that the man's a thorough blackguard, whom MacKenzie loaded with benefits.'

      'Do _you_ still believe that Alec caused George's death?'

      'Yes.'

      Lucy leaned back in her chair, resting her face on her hand. She seemed to reflect deeply.

      'And you?' said Bobbie.

      She gave him a long, earnest look. The colour came to her cheeks.

      'No,' she said firmly.

      'Why not?' he asked.

      'I have no reason except that I love him.'

      'What are you going to do?'

      'I don't know.'

      Bobbie got up, kissed her gently, and went out. She did not see him again, and in a day or two she heard that he had gone away.

      * * *

      Lucy made up her mind that she must see Alec before he went, but a secret bashfulness prevented her from writing to him. She was afraid that he would refuse, and she could not force herself upon him if she knew definitely that he did not want to see her. But with all her heart she wanted to ask his pardon. It would not be so hard to continue with the dreary burden which was her life if she knew that he had a little pity for her. He could not fail to forgive her when he saw how broken she was.

      But the days followed one another, and the date which Julia, radiant with her own happiness, had given her as that of his departure, was approaching.

      Julia, too, was exercised in mind. After her conversation with Alec she could not ask him to see Lucy, for she knew what his answer would be. No arguments, would move him. He did not want to give either Lucy or himself the pain which he foresaw an interview would cause, and his wounds were too newly-healed for him to run any risks. Julia resolved to take the matter into her own hands. Alec was starting next day, and he had promised to look in towards the evening to bid them good-bye. Julia wrote a note to Lucy, asking her to come also.

      When she told Dick, he was aghast.

      'But it's a monstrous thing to do,' he cried. 'You can't entrap the man in that way.'

      'I know it's monstrous,' she answered. 'But that's the only advantage of being an American in England, that one can do monstrous things. You look upon us as first cousins to the red Indians, and you expect anything from us. In America I have to mind my p's and q's. I mayn't smoke in public, I shouldn't dream of lunching in a restaurant alone with a man, and I'm the most conventional person in the most conventional society in the world; but here, because the English СКАЧАТЬ