The Intrusions of Peggy. Anthony Hope

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СКАЧАТЬ had quite recovered his confidence and happiness during the talk on money matters.

      'She didn't tell you any news, I suppose?' Tommy asked.

      'What, Peggy? No, I don't think so. Well, nothing about herself, anyhow.'

      'It's uncommonly wearing for me,' Tommy complained with a pathetic look on his clear-cut healthy countenance. 'I know I must play a waiting game; if I said anything to her now I shouldn't have a chance. So I have to stand by and see the other fellows make the running. By Jove, I lie awake at nights—some nights, anyhow—imagining infernally handsome poets—— Old Arty Kane isn't handsome, though! I say, Airey, don't you think she's got too much sense to marry a poet? You told me I must touch her imagination. Do I look like touching anybody's imagination? I'm about as likely to do it as—as you are.' His attitude towards the suggested achievement wavered between envy and scorn.

      Airey endured this outburst—and its concluding insinuation—with unruffled patience. He was at his pipe again, and puffed out wisdom securely vague.

      'You can't tell with a girl. It takes them all at once sometimes. Up to now I think it's all right.'

      'Not Arty Kane?'

      'Lord, no!'

      'Nor Childwick? He's a clever chap, Childwick. Not got a sou, of course; she'd starve just the same.'

      'She'd have done it before if it had been going to be Miles Childwick.'

      'She'll meet some devilish fascinating chap some day, I know she will.'

      'He'll ill-use her perhaps,' Airey suggested hopefully.

      'Then I shall nip in, you mean? Have you been treating yourself to Drury Lane?'

      Airey laughed openly, and presently Tommy himself joined in, though in a rather rueful fashion.

      'Why the deuce can't we just like 'em?' he asked.

      'That would be all right on the pessimistic theory of the world.'

      'Oh, hang the world! Well, good-bye, old chap. I'm glad you approve of what I've done about the business.'

      His reference to the business seemed to renew Airey Newton's discomfort. He looked at his friend, and after a long pause said solemnly:

      'Tommy Trent!'

      'Yes, Airey Newton!'

      'Would you mind telling me—man to man—how you contrive to be my friend?'

      'What?'

      'You're the only man who knows—and you're my only real friend.'

      'I regard it as just like drinking,' Tommy explained, after a minute's thought. 'You're the deuce of a good fellow in every other way. I hope you'll be cured some day too. I may live to see you bankrupt yet.'

      'I work for it. I work hard and usefully.'

      'And even brilliantly,' added Tommy.

      'It's mine. I haven't robbed anybody. And nobody has any claim on me.'

      'I didn't introduce this discussion.' Tommy was evidently pained. He held out his hand to take leave.

      'It's an extraordinary thing, but there it is,' mused Airey. He took Tommy's hand and said, 'On my honour I'll ask her to dinner.'

      'Where?' inquired Tommy, in a suspicious tone.

      Airey hesitated.

      'Magnifique?' said Tommy firmly and relentlessly.

      'Yes, the—the Magnifique,' agreed Airey, after another pause.

      'Delighted, old man!' He waited a moment longer, but Airey Newton did not fix a date.

      Airey was left sorrowful, for he loved Tommy Trent. Though Tommy knew his secret, still he loved him—a fact that may go to the credit of both men. Many a man in Airey's place would have hated Tommy, even while he used and relied on him; for Tommy's knowledge put Airey to shame—a shame he could not stifle any more than he could master the thing that gave it birth.

      Certainly Tommy deserved not to be hated, for he was very loyal. He showed that only two days later, and at a cost to himself. He was dining with Peggy Ryle—not she with him; for a cheque had arrived, and they celebrated its coming. Tommy, in noble spirits (the coming of a cheque was as great an event to him as to Peggy herself), told her how he had elicited the offer of a dinner from Airey Newton; he chuckled in pride over it.

      How men misjudge things! Peggy sat up straight in her chair and flushed up to the outward curve of her hair.

      'How dare you?' she cried. 'As if he hadn't done enough for me already! I must have eaten pounds of butter—of mere butter alone! You know he can't afford to give dinners.'

      Besides anger, there was a hint of pride in her emphasis on 'dinners.'

      'I believe he can,' said Tommy, with the air of offering a hardy conjecture.

      'I know he can't, or of course he would. Do you intend to tell me that Airey—Airey of all men—is mean?'

      'Oh, no, I—I don't say——'

      'It's you that's mean! I never knew you do such a thing before. You've quite spoilt my pleasure this evening.' She looked at him sternly. 'I don't like you at all to-night. I'm very grievously disappointed in you.'

      Temptation raged in Tommy Trent; he held it down manfully.

      'Well, I don't suppose he'll give the dinner, anyhow,' he remarked morosely.

      'No, because he can't; but you'll have made him feel miserable about it. What time is it? I think I shall go home.'

      'Look here, Peggy; you aren't doing me justice.'

      'Well, what have you got to say?'

      Tommy, smoking for a moment or two, looked across at her and answered, 'Nothing.'

      She rose and handed him her purse.

      'Pay the bill, please, and mind you give the waiter half-a-crown. And ask him to call me a cab, please.'

      'It's only half a mile, and it's quite fine.'

      'A rubber-tired hansom, please, with a good horse.'

      Tommy put her into the cab and looked as if he would like to get in too. The cabman, generalising from observed cases, held the reins out of the way, that Tommy's tall hat might mount in safety.

      'Tell him where to go, please. Good-night,' said Peggy.

      Tommy was left on the pavement. He walked slowly along to his club, too upset to think of having a cigar.

      'Very well,' he remarked, as he reached his destination. 'I played fair, but old Airey shall give that dinner—I'm hanged if he sha'n't!—and СКАЧАТЬ