His lordship's eyes kindled; he became very pale; and it was plain that his infatuation for Cynthia was not strong enough to induce him to swallow blasphemy without protest. Before he could give utterance to the words trembling on his lips, Timothy intervened to take leave of his hostess. Mrs. Haddington bestowed her most gracious smile upon him, indicating in a subtle style that she perfectly understood that he was being driven away by Lord Guisborough's presence. She held his hand between both of hers for a pregnant moment, and said: "You know you are always sure of a welcome here! Perhaps in a day or two -just a little intime party: nothing formal!"
He managed, by murmuring a few polite and unmeaning phrases, to avoid giving a definite answer to this; begged Mrs. Haddington neither to ring for the butler nor to accompany him downstairs herself; and escaped, feeling much like a stag who had contrived, for a short breathing-space, to throw off the hounds.
He ran downstairs, wondering how to find Beulah. The faint clack of a typewriter led him to the library. He walked in, softly closing the door behind him, and said cheerfully: 'Hallo, ducky! How do you find yourself today?"
"Timothy!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here? Does Mrs. Haddington know?"
"Not that I'm here, and let us hope that she won't track me down," he replied, bending over her to drop a kiss on the top of her head. "You look rather sweet: what are you up to?"
"Writing a rude letter to a hat-shop."
"Enjoying yourself, in fact. Listen, my heart, are you going to be kept here till all hours, or will you dine with me?"
"No, I don't think so, but - Oh, I'd better not!"
"Well, I think you better 'ad," said Timothy.
She smiled faintly. "Don't be so vulgar! Timothy, I don't know what to do! This is all wrong!"
"Well, don't worry, my love: we'll thrash it out at Armand's," he said encouragingly. "I may as well break it to you at once that you've dam' well got to marry me, to save me from the Haddington clutches. I've just had that infernal wench weeping all over my coat, not to mention the harridan making unmistakable, if vicarious, passes at me. What they see in the fellow! Look, will eight o'clock suit you?"
She sat silent, staring down at the keys of the typewriter. He tickled the back of her neck with one finger. "Well?"
Suddenly she slewed round in her chair, her face quivering, and flung up an arm round his neck.
"All right! Yes!" she jerked out. "I don't care! I'm going to marry you!"She was subjected to a breath-taking hug. "Fine!" Timothy said. "Champagne all round. Jim shall stand it. Oh, I didn't tell you, did I? My brother's up in town, and wants to meet you. I told him to roll along to Armand's."
She disengaged herself. "Oh! Has he come to stop you marrying me?"
"No, my child, he has not. Lay all those quills! He's a very nice chap, and if you're polite to him he'll very likely give us his blessing. I think I'd better push off now, in case I'm discovered philandering with you. No more visits from the police?"
"Not yet."
"Well, if you get any, be polite to Hemingway too! He's another nice chap - and by no means a fool!" said Timothy.
A few hours later, Mr. James Kane rang up his chambers. "That you, Timothy? Well, I'm back, and it didn't go too badly, taken all round."
"Bless you! How were they?"
"Fair. Mother seemed fit enough, but your father's had one of his bronchial attacks. Am I going to meet Beulah?"
"You are, and you meet her as my betrothed."
"I do, do I? Well, I warned Mother it was very much on the cards."
"What did you say to Mamma?"
"A good deal of what you said to me."
" What."
"That's all right: you ought to know Mother by now! You've only got to show her a lame dog, and she starts helping it over the nearest stile. Mind, I don't say she's in favour of this marriage, but she's willing to wait and see what I think of Beulah; and she's even gone so far as to say that if I put in a favourable report, she'd like Beulah to go down to Chamfreys to stay for a week-end, so that she can try to get to know her."
Jim, this is terrific! No, really, I'm hellish grateful to you! You shan't stand the champagne tonight: I will!"
Thanks largely to the easy manners of Mr. James Kane, and to the conversational powers of his young half-brother, the dinner party was moderately successful. Beulah was ill-at-ease, and said very little, but she was in good looks, and if she held Jim at arm's length at least she did not treat him with hostility. He studied her without seeming to, and noted various points in her favour. His own fancy was for fair women, but he could perceive that Beulah had distinction. He liked the way her hair sprang from a peak in the centre of her forehead, approved of her slender hands, and of the nape of her neck. In repose, her face wore almost a sulky look, but if she smiled she became transformed. He thought that it had probably been her smile which had captivated Timothy. It was rare, but when it came it swept across her face, lighting the sombreness of her eyes, making her appear suddenly years younger. She had a well-modulated voice, too, and neither pinched her vowels, nor cultivated the highpitched, nasal delivery so lamentably fashionable amongst her contemporaries. But she was sadly deficient in social graces or charm, making no attempt to keep the ball of conversation rolling, and often answering remarks addressed to her with unnecessary curtness. She was not at all the type of girl Mr. Kane had imagined would attract his lively half-brother, and more than once during the course of the meal he found himself wondering what could have possessed Timothy to give his heart to so cold and brusque a woman. Then he saw her raise her eyes, and meet Timothy's across the table, and he was startled. There could be no mistaking the significance of that glowing look; the girl was head over ears in love with Timothy.
When coffee and liqueurs were on the table, Timothy perceived a party of friends seated at the other end of the room, and, in response to a wave, went across to exchange a few words with them. Beulah looked Jim squarely in the eyes, and said: "Sorry! I'm no good at small talk. You don't want me to marry him, do you?"
This disconcerting question took Jim aback for a moment; then he laughed and said: "What am I supposed to reply to that?"
"You have replied. Your mother disliked me very much."
"Well, if you fired that sort of question at her, you can't be surprised, can you?"
"I didn't. I don't blame her. Or you. Only I'm going to marry him. I said I wouldn't at first. I daresay you think I'm a designing hussy, but I did try to choke him off! Only - well, I couldn't! I'm sorry I can't produce a lot of distinguished relations. My mother came of quite humble stock, and I don't suppose you'd like my Italian relations much. My father's family considered that he had married very much beneath him, which, as far as birth goes, I suppose he did. His family thought him a disgrace to their stuffy name, and were extremely glad when he went to live in Italy. I lived with two of that family for eighteen months, until I decided I'd rather starve than stay with them another day. I should add that they disliked me quite as much as I disliked them, and I don't propose ever to see them again! So now you know!"
"One way and another, you seem to have had rather a tough time," said Jim equably.
She looked at him; something in her eyes made him uncomfortable. "Yes," she said. "I have. But now - it seems as though I've been offered a chance of something I want very much. More - more than I can tell you. I'm not going to give him up. If I've got to fight to marry him - well, I shall fight! It's only fair to warn you!"
"You needn't get ready to fight me: I'm not Timothy's keeper. In fact, you won't have to fight anyone. My mother may not like the marriage, but if you and Timothy really love each other she won't try to obstruct. You've nothing to be afraid of from that quarter."