CURZON
STREET
FERGUS


LIBRARY OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA

FROM THE BOOKS
OF
Mrs. Charles Edward McMurdo
and
Miss Doris E. McM-ordo





THE BEST NOVELS BY
FERGUS HUME
The Mystery of a Hansom Cab . 75 Cents
The Sealed Message . . . 75"
The Sacred Herb . . . . 75"
Claude Duval of Ninety-five . . 75"
The Rainbow Feather . . . 75"
The Pagan's Cup . . . . 75"
A Coin of Edward VII . . . 75"
The Yellow Holly . . . . 75"
The Red Window . . . . 75"
The Mandarin's Fan . . . 75"
The Secret Passage . . . . 75"
The Opal Serpent . . . . 75"
Lady Jim of Curzon Street . . 75"
The Green Mummy . . . 75"
The Solitary Farm . . .$1.45"


LADY JIM of
curzojH STREET
e/f SHOVEL
By
FERGUS HUME
Author of
"The Mystery of a Hansom Cab," "A Coin of Edward VII,"
'The Pagan's Cup," "The Yellow Holly," "The Red Window,"
"The Mandarin's Fan," "The Secret Passage," etc.

• • • •
• ,• • •
• • • j
G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK


Copyright, 1906, by
G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY
Lady Jim of
Curzon Street


LADY JIM OF OUBZOff STREET
CHAPTER I
"We're on the rocks this time, Leah, smashin' for all
we're worth. How we can win clear beats me."
With hands which had never earned a shilling thrust
into pockets empty even of that coin, Jim Kaimes
stretched out his long legs and surveyed his neat boots
as he made this cryptic speech. His habit of expressing
himself in a parabolic fashion was confusing to his
friends. But five years of marital squabbling had
schooled his wife into ready comprehension, and she
usually responded without comment. On this occasion,
however, the subject under discussion irritated even
her healthy nerves, and she replied irrelevantly.
"Really, Jim, I wish you would talk English."
"Huh! Never knew I was talking Choctaw."
M You might be, for all the sense an ordinary person
can make of it."
"Ah-a-a!" said Jim, with the clumsy affection of a
bear; "but you're not an ordinary person, Leah. I'm
the common or garden ass, that can't straighten things
Now you can."
I


2 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"For want of a husband I suppose I must."
"Come now, Leah. Am I not your husband?"
"Oh yes!" she answered, with a flick of her hand-
kerchief across a pair of scornful lips: "my husband,
not a husband."
"What's the difference?"
"As if I could waste time in explaining. We have
more serious matters to talk about than your want
of brains."
"Serious enough," assented the man, sulkily; "but
you know how to deal with trouble, Leah."
"I ought to," retorted his wife, with a shrug, "con-
sidering the experience I have had since marrying you.
I wish I hadn't."
"So do I," confessed Jim; then mended his speech
with a dim sense of having overstepped the mark:
"No, by Jupiter, I don't mean that. You an' I get
on very well, considerin' each swings on a private hook.
You are not a bad sort, Leah, and I'm a—a—a—well,
you know what I am."
"Not a diplomatist, certainly. Isn't this praise a
trifle obvious? You don't mean it, do you?"
She looked at him wistfully, but her candid husband
soon stopped any sentimental illusions she may have
momentarily entertained. "Oh yes, I mean it in a
sort of way. An' good temper on both sides will help
us to push through the business quicker."
"You mean the Bankruptcy Court," snapped his
wife.
"Perhaps I mean the Divorce Court," was his
tart reply, but she was quite ready with an answer.
"«On your own part, then; you can't say a word
against me."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 3
"Who said I could? You've got the one virtue
that gives its name to the rest, and think yourself an
angel."
"I had your assurance that I was an angel—once."
"No doubt. It's the sort of thing a man has to say
to the woman he is engaged to."
"And never says to the woman he is married to!"
"Marriage isn't all honey, Leah, and"
"Heavens!" Lady Jim addressed the ceiling; "as if
I required telling. But compared with other women,
Jim, I am not"
"I never said you were," interrupted Kaimes, crossly.
"I'd screw your neck if you went on like other women."
"Upon my word, Jim, I would admire you more if
you did attempt something of that sort."
"Sorry I can't oblige you; but I'm a gentleman and
bear an honoured name."
"An honoured name!"
"Sneerin' won't alter facts, Leah. The name of
Kaimes has always been honoured"
"Till you dragged it through the mud," interrupted
Leah, in her turn. "The old Duke is all right, and
Frith's a kind man, if somewhat dull. But you—oh
heavens! to think that such a Saul should be amongst
the prophets."
Jim, not understanding the scriptural allusion,
thought he was being chaffed, a liberty which his
bovine pride resented by two minutes of sulky silence.
Moreover, he dreaded his wife's formidable tongue, the
lash of which could cut through even his tough hide.
"How are we goin' to get through the business at
this ratef" was his next contribution to the conver-
sation. "You don't remember that I've to meet a


4 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
fellow at the club to see about a bet. An' I haven't
got one shillin' to rattle against another," declared Jim,
pathetically.
"Well," was the sharp reply, "I have to shop this
afternoon with but one miserable sovereign in my
purse."
Lord Jim opened his sleepy blue eyes. "I say, you
couldn't?"
"No," said his wife, decisively. "I couldn't and I
wouldn't, and I can't and I shan't. Perhaps you'll
read the paper and let me think."
"All right," said Kaimes, reaching for the Sporting
Times. "I want to see the bettin' on Podaskas."
"Betting will be your ruin."
"Has been," corrected Jim, chuckling'; then reverted
to his early metaphor: "We're on the rocks this time,
Leah, and no mistake."
His wife cast a look of scorn on the pink-and-white
face she had once thought handsome. And, indeed,
Kaimes was good-looking in a heavy Saxon way. Tall
and muscular, with the strength of a bull and the manners
of a bear, he was precisely the sort of brutal athlete
to attract women. They flocked round him like bees,
and gave him more honey than was good for him. He
accepted their endearments with the complacent vanity
of an egotist, and took little trouble to please even
the prettiest, whereupon he was adored the more.
Leah, with her elbows on the breakfast-table, stared
at Jim's well-brushed head bending over the pink sheets,
and asked herself, for the hundredth time, why she
had married him. Physically he resembled a splendid
Hercules, but in another sense the likeness was not a
speaking one. He satisfied her eyes, and in no other


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 5
way gave her pleasure. When he talked, he babbled
vainly about himself and his doings, to the exclusion of
any topic likely to interest other people. Possessed of
that easy good-nature which refuses nothing, which costs
nothing, Jim Kaimes was looked upon as "a good
fellow," a title which covers a multitude of the minor
sins. Jim would have been meritorious as a cave-man,
and pre-historically perfect. As a civilised being he
left very much to be desired.
The subject was neither agreeable nor inexhaustible,
and Leah rose with a shrug of her shapely shoulders.
Jim looked up.
"Well?" he asked encouragingly.
"Nothing!" said his wife, curtly, and moved to the
window.
Here she leaned against the sash and looked at the
narrow grey street which was such a good address to im-
press tradesmen, and so expensive to live in. Not that the
question of rent troubled the pair. They paid none, and
would have been as much insulted, if visited on quarter-
day, as an Irish tenant. The Duke of Pentland at the
time of their marriage had presented them with the fur-
nished " 10, Curzon Street," but hampered with certain
restrictions. They could not sell it, or even mortgage
it, nor could money be raised on the furniture. The
Duke paid all rates and taxes, and saw to all repairs.
Beyond dwelling in this very desirable residence, and
culling it publicly their home, Lord and Lady Jim
had no interest in it whatsoever. Both thought it was
ridiculous that they could not turn the Curzon Street
house into money, when they needed ready cash so
badly.
And life was so hard to people of their standing and


6 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
tastes. Leah came of a bankrupt family, and had
brought nothing to Jim but her own clever, beautiful
self. She considered the two thousand a year which
the Duke allowed his second son opulence, until she
learned what delightful things money could buy. Ther,
Jim used a large amount of the quarterly payments
on his own account, and tradesmen would not give
her the delightful things without money. She certainly
had bills in nearly every shop in Bond Street and out
of it, but even bills had to be paid in the long run.
The post brought a good many, and brought also lawyers'
letters, not pleasant to read. Between them, this happy
pair had mortgaged their income, and the money they had
obtained was all gone. Now they had no income and
many bills. What was to be done? This problem
Jim had set Leah to solve, but clever as she knew
herself to be, the solution was beyond her.
"Can't you borrow, Jim f" she asked, turning
gloomily from the window.
"Perhaps a fiver," was the prompt response; "every
one's as mean as mean. I've tried 'em all. And you?"
Leah shook her head.
"Twenty pounds, for all my asking."
"There's your godmother, old Lady Canvey," sug-
gested Jim. "She's as rich as Dives."
"And, like Dives, won't give a penny to this Lazarus.
She smiles, and talks epigrams, and preaches, but as
to helping "Leah shrugged her shoulders again.
The action drew her husband's attention to a very
magnificent figure which was loudly admired. Jim had
admired it himself before he had got used to seeing
it in the breakfast-room. Now it struck him that this
attraction might be turned into money.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 7
"You're a ripping woman in the way of looks," he
said, throwing down the newspaper; "if you went on
the stage—eh 1"
"As the fairy queen?" inquired his wife, scornfully:
"that's about all I'm suited for. I know the things
I can't do, Jim, and acting is one. Besides, think of
what the Duke would say."
Jim yawned, and lighted a cigarette.
"He can't say more than he has said," he remarked,
lazily. "'Sides, I never go to hear him preach,
now."
"No; you send me."
"Why not? The Duke loves a pretty woman. You
can twist him round your little finger."
"I can't twist any money out of him," said Lady
Jim, irritably.
"More's the pity. We're on the rocks"
"You've said that twice already."
"An' I'll say it again and again and again," snapped
Jim. "You don't seem to realise the hole we're in."
"Don't I?" she queried, with an emotion she would
never have shown in society. "I realise that I have
one sovereign; and you?"
"Only a fiver I intend to borrow from a sure man,"
said Jim; "but I say, what's to be done?"
"We must go through the court."
"What's the use of that? It'll only settle our debts.
We want ready money. I don't care a straw about
the tradesmen. Can't we let this house?"
"No; the Duke says we can live in it as long as
we like, but if we leave he'll take it back again."
"It's like giving a boy half a crown and telling him
not to spend it," said Kaimes, looking round. "If we


8 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
only could! It's a jolly sort of room this, and we'd get
a good rent for the house."
The room was indeed pretty, being decorated in a
Pompadour manner. Its walls were adorned with white
paper, sprinkled with bunches of roses tied with flutter-
ing blue ribbons, and the carpet bore the same dainty
design. The furniture was of white wood, upholstered
in brocade, also diversified with roses and azure
streamers. There were many delicate water-colour
pictures, a grate and fire-irons of polished brass, and
electric lights in rose-tinted globes. Even the grey
December light streaming in through the two windows
could not make the apartment look anything but clean,
and delicate, and dainty, and delightful. It was an
ideal nest for a young couple. But this one had out-
lived the honeymoon, and cared very little for the
ideal.
"A very pretty room," said Jim, again; "and you're
the prettiest thing in it, Leah."
She looked at him scornfully, and then glanced
around. "I hate all this frippery" she said contemp-
tuously. "Something more massive would suit me
better."
"Well, you are a kind of Cleopatra, y* know."
If Jim's historical knowledge had been more accurate,
he would have made a better comparison. Cleopatra,
according to the latest discoveries, was small, foxy-haired,
and dainty. She would have suited this Watteau-like
room to perfection. But Lady Jim was as tall as any
daughter of the gods, and bore herself after the imperial
style of Juno, Queen of Olympus. Her hair was of
a deep red, and she had a great quantity, as those who
saw her pose in charity tableaux knew very well. Leah


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 9
possessed the creamy complexion which usually goea
with such hair, and a pair of large blue eyes, out of
which her soul had never peered. They were hard
eyes, shallow as those of a bird, and surveyed the world
and its denizens with the inquiring expression of a cat
on the look-out for titbits. Her lips were thin, and
covered admirably white and regular teeth. It was a
clever face, and beautiful in its serene immobility.
Those who did not like Lady Jim called her a cat;
but she was more like a sleek, dangerous pantheress,
and woe to the victim who came under her claws. Yet
she could purr very prettily on occasions.
"Well, Jim," she said more* graciously, for she was
sufficiently a woman to be pleased with her husband's
grudging compliments. "Now that you have finished
saying sweet things, what next?"
"This business. We're on the"
"Jim, if you say that again 11! leave you to get
out of the trouble yourself. You're my husband. Think
of something."
"I can't—unless it's the insurance."
"The insurance," said Leah, thoughtfully; "twenty
thousand pounds, isn't it, Jim?"
Her husband nodded. "Old Jarvey Peel, my god-
father, had my life insured when I was a child, and
arranged that his heirs should pay up the money every
year to keep it in force. Then there's accumulations
of sorts. I don't understand these stale things
myself, Leah, but I know that there's over twenty
thousand."
"Can't you raise money on it?"
"No; the old man arranged that I should lose it
if I tried that game. Lord," said Jim, with disgust,


io LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"if I could have raised money I should have got rid
of it, ages ago."
"But how does it benefit you?" asked his wife,
curiously; "if the money is paid when you are dead,
you won't have any fun. But I"—her eyes gleamed.
"Oh no, you don't," snapped Jim, not at all pleased
at this hint; "you'd like to turn me into cash in that
way, I know. But it so happens that the twenty
thousand, and whatever additions may have come, will
be paid to me when I'm sixty. Much fun in that,
when I shan't have teeth to crack nuts."
"You're over thirty now, Jim."
"Thirty-five, and you're only five years younger; so
when we get the cash at sixty there won't be any
enjoyment left for either of us."
"Thirty-five from sixty," murmured Lady Jim.
"Leaves how much, Jim?"
"Twenty-five," replied Kaimes, after wrinkling his
brow and communing with his none too quick brain.
"Beastly long time to wait."
Leah nodded. "There's no chance of your getting
it sooner?"
"Not the slightest. I can't get a cent on it, and
I can't sell it, and I can't use it in any way. Jarvey
Peel was a silly old ass. Died worth no end of coin,
and didn't leave me a penny."
"But if you died, Jim?"
"Drop it," retorted Kaimes, who did not at all
relish the suggestion.
"Well, but supposing you did?" insisted Leah.
"Then I 'spose the money would be paid to you,"
said Jim, kicking the hearth-rug with a gloomy face;
4'but don't you make any mistake, Leah. I'm goin'


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET u
to live right on to sixty and handle the money. I
can't do much at that age, but I'll try hard to get
through the lot before I slip off."
"And what about me?"
"Oh, you must look after yourself," said Jim, heart-
lessly; "but if you can think of some scheme to get
the cash now, I'll give you half—there now. There's
nothing mean about me."
"What's the use of talking rubbish?" said Lady Jim,
crossly; "you won't die."
"Not to oblige you, my dear, so don't think it."
"Then don't let us talk any more of the impossible."
"Is it impossible ?" asked Kaimcs, cunningly.
Leah looked at him with wide, bright eyes. "What
is it?" she asked.
"I might pretend to die, you know," said Jim, looking
at her very directly; "then the cash 'ud be paid to
you, and we could share."
"But it's ridiculous," cried Leah, raising her eyebrows;
"you would have to give up your position and
disappear."
"Who cares? You know I never stop longer in
England than I can help. As to my position, it's all
debts and duns, and squabbling with you. Oh, I'd
give up the whole thing for the money!"
"You never think of me."
"Got enough to do to think of myself," grumbled
Kaimes; "'sides, you don't care for me. As a widow
you could have lots of fun on—on, say—five thousand."
"That's right, Jim, take the lion's share to yourself."
"Well, shouldn't I be paying the largest price for
getting the cash?"
Leah shrugged her shoulders again. "There would


12 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
be very little sacrifice in it so far as you are con-
cerned," she said. "You've been three times to South
America since we were married, and I presume with
this money you would go there again."
"I'd go out of your life for ever."
"Oh, well," she said coolly; "I could show my respect
to your memory by wearing a widow's dress. I expect
T should look rather nice in a cap."
Lord Jim was rather disgusted. Little as he loved
his wife, he expected her to be devotedly attached to
him, and her ready acquiescence in his disappearance
annoyed him greatly.
"You've got no heart."
"How clever of you to guess that! I gave it to
you five years ago."
"And took it back before the honeymoon was over."
"Well, you see, Jim, you are so careless a man that
I could not think of leaving the only heart I possess
in your hands. Besides, so many women have given
you their hearts that I thought you might confuse
the lot."
Lord Jim did not like this banter, and said so in a
few forcible words. Then he moved to the door,
casting a disgusted look at a pile of bills on Leah's
side of the table.
"What about this truck?"
"Oh, we'll pay them out of your insurance," laughed
Lady Jim.
"Not much. I'm not going to disappear and give
up everything for the benefit of a lot of measly
tradesmen."
"I wish you wouldn't dangle grapes out of my reach,"
said his wife, pettishly; "you know it's not to be done."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 13
Jim plunged forward, and, gathering up the mass of
papers, threw them into the fire. "Pay them in this
way, then," said he, enraged.
"I wish I could," sighed Leah, wearily, and looked
at herself in the mirror. "Do stop worrying me, Jim.
I'm getting to look quite old. Are you going out?"
"Yes. We've wasted an hour in talking about
nothing. We're on the rocks, I tell you."
"And so," said Lady Jim, calmly, "you end where
you began."
Jim looked up to heaven. "And this is a wife!"
said he, plaintively.
"And this," she mocked, laying her hand on his
shoulder, "is a probable bankrupt!"
"Not me. I'll clear out first to South America."
"Leave the insurance money to me, Jim," called
Leah, as he banged the door. "Twenty thousand
pounds," she soliloquised—" it's worth trying for. But
I might as well cry for the moon "; and she sighed, the
sigh of selfishness, unexpectedly thwarted.


CHAPTER II
Lord and Lady Jim Kaimes were regarded as a most
agreeable couple, and utilised this reputation to live
on their friends. The husband was an admirable shot,
a daring and judicious polo-player, and his skill at
cards was as notable as his dexterity in golfing. Con-
sequently, he was much in request, and benefited largely
in free board and lodging. He was good-looking, which
pleased the women, and good-natured, which satisfied
the men. In wrestling and boxing Jim could more
than hold his own, and always paid his gambling debts,
even at the cost of allowing tradesmen to threaten legal
proceedings. Thus, according to modern ideas, he was
an honourable man and a good all-round sportsman, a
credit to the British aristocracy and a pleasure to his
numerous friends. "These be thy gods, 0 Israel!"
A clergyman once preached on this text in Jim's acci-
dental hearing, but Jim did not know what he meant.
The wife was a general favourite with the men, but
women fought rather shy of her. She thought too much
of herself, they said, and dressed altogether too well;
and, moreover, never gave even the most bitter-tongued
female a chance of talking scandal in connection with
the honoured name to which Jim had called her atten-
tion. However, feminine artfulness led one and all
to conceal this dislike, and Lady Jim received as much
M


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 15
kissing and as many sweet words and invitations as her
vain, hungry soul desired. She saw through the wiles of
her own sex clearly, and knew that in nine cases out of
ten the woman who kissed would have preferred to
bite. But they knew that Lady Jim knew, and Lady
Jim knew that they knew she knew, so everything
went well. As to what was said behind her back
Lady Jim cared not a snap of her fingers, and if any
rival dared to attack her openly she was quite able
to use a particularly venomous tongue, the safeguard
against calumny which Nature had given her. And
it must be said that she never went out of her way
to harm any one: her position was that of a passive
resister. As she pathetically observed, she was a
contented woman, if only permitted to have her own
way.
Certainly the women had cause to complain of Lady
Jim's gowns, which were far beyond the ordinary female
intellect in cut and fashion, in new material and up-to-
date trimmings. She added her own ingenuity and
taste to the creations of the dressmaker, and the result
was always such a triumph as to lead the rest of her
sex to doubt if Providence existed. It would have
been even more aggravating than it was, had it been
known that Lady Jim paid next to nothing for her
gowns, and advertised the dressmaker instead of settling
the bill. But Leah did not make this fact public.
She was content to use her magnificent figure and
good looks, and her popularity in society, to save a
lean purse, and therefore was daily and nightly clad
in the purple and fine linen which wrung envious tears
from other women's eyes. Sometimes Lady Jim, fasci-
nating a society-paper editor, would utilise his columns


16 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
and circulation to advertise deserving tradesmen: while
from these, in return, she exacted tangible gratitude in
the welcome shape of gloves, handkerchiefs, scents, and
similar needful if expensive commodities. Lady Jim
never signed her name to these literary efforts, but they
drew custom to the shop and filled her wardrobe with
what she wanted at the moment, so she was not ambitious
to be known as an authoress. Even Jim never knew
how his wife, as he put it, "contrived the tiptop ";
and privately thought that the age of miracles was not
yet past, when Leah could make something out of
nothing.
For five years, more or less, Lady Jim had been
clothed as the lilies of the field, and had been supplied
with nutriment by the lineal descendants of Elijah's
ravens; but now things were coming to a crisis. The
long lane down which she had marched as Solomon-in-
all-his-glory was about to take a turning, and Lady
Jim did not relish the new route. It led to second-rate
lodgings at home or abroad, to the lack of frocks and
a diminution of other women's envy, to the loss of a
thousand and one luxuries which had become necessaries,
and to a self-denying ordinance of which she did not
approve. Something must be done to prevent the
necessity of turning down this penurious alley, but when
Lady Jim set out on her shopping excursion she did
not very well see how she could avoid the almost
inevitable.
Needless to say, Leah had a trifle more in her purse
than the one sovereign she had admitted the existence
of to Jim. To be precise, she possessed ten pounds,
and that had to last a week as pocket-money. She
felt very hard up as she stepped into her motor-car


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 17
and whirled down the street. Had she possessed the lamp
of Aladdin she would have made its slave bankrupt;
and to think that seven days of desiring pretty things
should be supported on ten pounds! The beggar at the
gate of Dives could not have been poorer.
But there was no sign of penury on the surface.
The unpaid sables Lady Jim wore were the best that
the animal could give; the fur rug over her feet had
cost enough to keep a poor family for six months in
food and fire, though she, or rather Jim, was being
dunned for the payment of that; the motor-car was
one of the best and newest, and Lady Jim drove it with
the reckless speed of a woman who thinks the world
was created so that she should play Juggernaut.
Having plenty of courage, and a love for playing with
death, Leah was a daring and skilful driver. Before
now she had swept round a corner with two wheels
beating the air. But she had not as yet crushed any
one under the said wheels, and she ascribed this luck
to her peacock's feather. Like all who have small
belief in the Deity, Lady Jim was superstitious in a
small way. Her fetish was a peacock's feather, and so
long as she had one about her, nothing, so she averred,
could possibly go wrong. There was one now thrust
into the left-hand lamp of the car, and the panels were
painted with the same feathers, until they resembled
the tail of Juno's favourite bird. Lady Jim might
forget to go to church, or to say her prayers, or to
thank God, but she never forgot the necessary peacock's
feather which was to ensure prosperity and safety.
She was reported to make genuflections before a shrine
of this sort, but the report was probably exaggerated.
No one knew what kind of a Baal she worshipped,
a


18 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
but it is ridiculous to say that she did not adore at
least one, for she was, in her way, a very religious
woman.
Lady Jim raced her car out of Curzon Street, down
Park' Lane, and into Piccadilly, where she amused
herself with dodging nervous people and shaving the
wheels of vehicles drawn by humble quadrupeds. The
chauffeur sat grimly silent, expecting an almost certain
i spill, with the calm of a fatalist. He knew it would
come some day, in spite of his mistress's skilful
driving, but he neither worried nor remonstrated. He
was paid for a silent tongue and healthy nerves, and if
his life was insured rather heavily, considering his
profession, that was no one's business but his wife's,
and she had already decided how to spend the insurance
aioney. But the woman need not have been so sure
of such good fortune. Lady Jim did not mind hurting
other people, but she had an uncommonly good notion of
how to preserve the only neck she possessed.
When the car reached Bond Street, Lady Jim, who
was as calm as though she had finished a donkey-ride,
stepped down and entered a jeweller's shop. Lately
she had paid a trifle off his bill, and thought herself
entitled to double the gross amount. The jeweller,
knowing the Duke of Pentland had fifty thousand a
year, and that Lady Jim was too pretty a daughter-
in-law not to get her own way with so gay an old
nobleman, did not object to his customer's purchases.
If Lady Jim could not pay the Duke would, so she
was permitted to take away several objects for which
she had no use. Then she went to select some new
hats, and look at the latest thing in frocks. A call
at certain other establishments resulted in the car


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 19
being heaped with expensive trifles for Christmas
presents. Afterwards the car whirled into Oxford Street,
returned to Piccadilly, and stopped every now and then
like a bird of prey. At some shops she was received
with sickly smiles; at others, which she favoured for
the first time with her custom, with rejoicing grins:
but out of every place Lady Jim walked calmly, with
a shopman in the rear bringing parcels to increase the
baggage on the car. She achieved the whole afternoon's
work without once opening her purse. Could Rothschild
have financed things better?
At five o'clock, with lighted lamps and unabated
speed, Lady Jim drove her machine to Berkeley Square,
and, leaving the chauffeur to choke and shiver in the
damp fog, walked into a dull-looking house to see her
godmother, Lady Canvey. She wished to ask the
advice of that kindly, shrewd old pagan, and was not
at all pleased when she found the Rev. Lionel
Kaimes, trying to lead Lady Canvey in the right way.
He had been trying to guide her heavenward for the
last year, but the bright-eyed old dame still danced
along the primrose path with nimble feet and an
appreciation of the agreeable people who were dancing
along with her to perdition.
"Well, my dear," said Lady Canvey, submitting her
withered cheek to a conventional kiss. "Lionel, here,
has been spe aking of the devil, and you appear. There's
some truth in proverbs, it seems."
"Oh, Lady Canvey," sighed a soft voice at the old
pagan's elbow.
"I forgot, Leah, this is my 'Philip you-are-but-
mortal' companion. You have not met her before, and
I don't think you'll seek her company again. She's not


20 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
quite your sort, my dear, not quite your sort. Joan,
come and show yourself."
In response to this order a slim, tall girl, with
a serious face, came forward shyly, and put out a
timid hand. She was plainly dressed in a black stuff
gown, without colour or ornament. Her hands and
feet were slim and small; she had wavy brown hair
twisted into a loose knot at the nape of her neck, and
the features of her somewhat pale face were delicately
shaped. On the whole an uncommonly pretty girl,
Lady Jim decided, after taking in all this at a glance,
but less seriousness and brighter smiles would improve
her looks. She was like Pygmalion's statue before the
goddess had flushed its cold whiteness with rosy blood.
"How are you 1" asked Leah, nodding in a friendly
way, but without shaking hands. "You are one of
Lady Canvey's discoveries, I suppose."
"My discovery," put in Lionel, cheerfully, and with
a proud glance at the white-rose beauty of the girl.
"Lady Canvey wanted a companion, and I brought
her"
"One of Fra Angelico's saints," finished Lady Jim,
who was honest enough to confess inwardly that this
ethereal loveliness was most attractive.
"Quite so," chuckled Lady Canvey, arranging many
costly rings on a pair of knuckly hands. "Lionel knows
how I enjoy the company of a saint."
"You must put up with a sinner for the time being,"
said Lady Jim, good-humouredly. "I have come to
talk business."
"That means you intend to worry me," grumbled
Lady Canvey, with a sharp glance from under her
bushy eyebrows. "I hate being worried and bored."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 21
"Oh, I shan't bore you."
"Yes, you will. Other people's affairs always bore
me. I am not like his reverence here," and she waved
her ebony cane towards the young curate, who laughed
cheerfully.
"I admit there is some lack of resemblance," assented
Lady Jim, dryly.
Then she looked from the young man to the old
woman. Lionel was her husband's cousin, and should
death make a clean sweep of the Duke, and Frith and
Jim, he would inherit the title and the fifty thousand
a year which Lady Jim coveted. This possibility,
which it must be admitted was sufficiently remote, did
not make Leah love the young man any the more.
Besides, he was what she called "goody-goody," which
meant that he had entered the service of his Master
for use and not for show. As the curate of an exacting
vicar in a Lambeth parish, he grubbed amongst the
dirty poor, and dispensed soup, soap, shelter, and salva-
tion. Rarely did Lionel come to the West End, as his
task lay amongst the poor and lowly; but when he
did venture into high places he always called on Lady
Canvey, who had an odd kind of affection for him.
"He's misguided, but genuine, my love," said the
pagan, "and moreover, he amuses me!" which last
statement amply accounted for the favour with which
the old lady regarded him. Lionel was rather like Jim,
tall and muscular and handsome. But his face had
an intelligent look which Leah had never beheld in
the dull visage of her husband, and his blue eyes had
the bright, calm gaze of one whose faith is certain.
He affected the usual clerical garb, but being only
twenty-five, and boyish at that, his face wore a genial,


22 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
cheerful, unworried expression, which made most people
open their hearts. Like a doctor, a clergyman must
have a good bedside manner, and this Lionel possessed.
Moreover, his heart was kindly, and he was quick to
observe the snubbed and neglected. This feeling drew
him towards Joan, who had retreated, colouring pain-
fully, when Lady Jim substituted a nod for a hand-
shake. The girl was busy with a silver tea-pot, egg-shell
china, and hot cakes, and presently handed a cup to
the visitor. Lady Jim took it somewhat absently, and
having satisfied herself with Lionel's looks and person-
ality, turned her eyes on Lady Canvey.
Outwardly the old dame resembled the godmother
of a fairy story, and would have been admirably suited
to the pointed cap and scarlet cloak of a professed
witch. Yet the remains of beauty lingered about her
wrinkled face, recalling exciting Crimean days when
she had been a belle. She was small and shrunken
and bent, and sometimes her grey head shook with
palsy. But her spirit was still vigorous and her brain
clear, as could be seen by the steadiness of her piercing
black eyes, diamond-bright and clear. She wore a lace
cap, a dress of silvery grey satin, and many jewels costly
but old-fashioned. Add to these a white China-crape
shawl and an ebony cane, and behold the portrait of
the lady known as the "cleverest old harridan in
town." But that description was given by an enemy.
Lady Canvey had a quick brain and a sharp tongue,
yet her heart was as kindly as that of Lionel. Perhaps
it was this which drew the young and old together.
The room was comfortable, and luxuriously furnished,
but with the ugly taste of the Early Victorian epoch.
Lady Canvey, now over eighty, clung to the decorationg


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 23
and colours which had been fashionable when she was
young, and on stepping into the room Lady Jim felt
as though she had slipped back to the time of the
Great Exhibition. The motor-car outside, and the old
lady in the red velvet armchair, represented widely-
severed eras. And even Joan the saint and Lionel the
curate seemed alien to the world Lady Jim inhabited.
For that world closely resembled the one Noah had
fled from into the ark, when the denizens "were eating
and drinking and marrying and giving in marriage "—
though, to be sure, marriage nowadays, save as a
visible sign of respectability, was not much considered.
"Well, godmother," said Lady Jim, thinking to
curry favour with this she-Croesus by using an
approved, if somewhat obsolete, address, "you are
looking well."
"Then I'm a living lie," retorted Lady Canvey,
grimly. "How can you expect me to look well, when
Lionel here has been quoting texts for want of
originality?"
"I wanted you to hear the scripture," protested
Lionel.
"That's your business," replied Lady Canvey, stirring
her tea; "but I can hear the scriptures read when
I please by Joan, who has a much sweeter voice than
you, young man, as I suppose you think "; and she gave
one of her dry chuckles.
The curate reddened, and Joan looked confused.
Lady Jim, glancing from one serious face to the other,
drew her own conclusions, and murmured something
about a "sealed fountain." Lady Canvey, not being
versed in biblical imagery, did not understand, but
Lionel comprehended on the instant.


24 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"I am glad to hear that you read your Bible, Lady
James," he said quickly.
Leah hated to be addressed in this stiff manner;
yet it seemed appropriate to the out-of-date room.
But she had no desire to quarrel with her godmother's
pet in the presence of that opulent lady, so she turned
the tables on Lionel by looking shocked. "Of course
I do. I am not a pagan."
"Then I must be one," snapped Lady Canvey; "for
I wouldn't be you, Leah Kaimes, for the heaven I don't
expect to go to."
"Hush! hush !" said Lionel, pained by this flippancy
coming from those withered lips.
Lady Jim glanced at her opulent beauty in a dim
mirror, framed in tarnished gold, and laughed softly,
Her godmother saw the look and was swift to interpret
its meaning.
"I was like that once," she said, in rather a
quavering voice, "and you'll come to be such as I
am, only you'll never wear so well. Oh, what an
arm I had!" and she began to weep silently over her
lost beauty.
While Lionel and Joan comforted the poor soul,
Leah looked sympathetic but gave no assistance. She
decided that Lady Canvey was in her dotage,
and would be the more easily dealt with on that
account. Her one desire, therefore, was to get rid of the
two unnecessary people and begin operations at once.
She hoped by skilful management to come away with
a considerable cheque in Lady Canvey's shaky hand-
writing. Those drivelling tears meant a weak will,
and that, to one of Leah's determination, meant
money.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 25
"About this business," she began, when the old
woman was again her cheerful, cynical self: "could you
spare me ten minutes, godmother?"
"Certainly, my dear. It's all I can spare you."
This was not a promising beginning, but Lady Jim
knew she would not walk off with the spoils without
a sharp brush for their gaining. She looked at Lionel,
and then at the girl, whom she was sure in her own
heart the curate loved.
"Have you ever heard Mr. Kaimes talk Chinese
metaphysics, Miss Tallentire?" she asked Joan, having
possessed herself of the companion's surname.
"No," said Joan, opening her violet eyes widely. "I
am not clever enough to understand."
"Ask Mr. Kaimes if he doesn't think you are clever
enough."
"Really, Lady James"
"Lionel," interrupted Lady Canvey, sharply, "go into
the conservatory with Joan. She will show you a new
dwarf oak which I lately bought. Leah will entertain
me. And I'm pretty sure," chuckled she, "that I shall
entertain Leah."
"She's going to be nasty," thought Lady Jim, with
a charming smile, and continued to smile until the
curate and his unsuspecting companion went to see
the dwarf oak and to talk Chinese metaphysics, which
Leah was certain they would do. Lionel, with a
defiant glance at his cousin, and with a colour which
made him look unexpectedly handsome, followed Joan
out of the stuffy room. When the door was closed, and
the fire was unnecessarily poked up, and Lady Canvey
was comfortably settled in her chair, after a word or
two about the draughts which no one but herself could


26 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
feel in that close atmosphere, Lady Jim waited patiently
for her godmother to begin the battle.
She had not long to wait. Lady Canvey's eyes were
bright, and Lady Canvey's spirit reared like a war-
horse to plunge down on Leah. She sniffed once or
twice, and looked sharply at the beautiful, smiling face.
Then she delivered herself of a speech which put Lady
Jim's late behaviour in a nutshell.
"Leah," said Lady Canvey, "you're a born cat."


CHAPTER III
Lady Jim was not at all offended. She made every
allowance for the querulous temper of old age, and
still smiled.
"I rather like cats myself," she observed casually.
"They know what they want."
"But they don't always get it, my dear," snapped
Lady Canvey; adding inconsequently, "when the cat's
in the dairy, she's after the cream."
"I don't think that's an original remark," said Leah,
languidly, and loosening her furs, for the room really
was heated like the conservatory, in which the lovers
talked Chinese metaphysics. "Didn't George Eliot say
something of the sort?"
"I never knew him," retorted Lady Canvey, wilfully
dense. "You and your Chinese metaphysics indeed I
I won't have it"
"Have them," corrected Leah, gently, and unable
to resist the opportunity.
Lady Canvey scowled like the fairy Caraboss, and
continued, without heeding the impertinence, "Joan
is the daughter of Lionel's vicar."
"I see, and he intends to be the vicar's son-in-law."
"What is that to you?"
"News!" expressed Lady Jim, serenely. "I nevei
knew such a prig as Lionel could fall in love."


28 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"His love is the love of an honest man," declared
the old dame, striking her crutch on the carpet.
"I hope so, for the sake of his cloth."
"Chinese metaphysics indeed!" grumbled Lady Can-
vey. "The poor child did not know what you meant."
"She certainly seems to be somewhat dull."
"Dull yourself, Leah. She's a sweet-tempered, good,
thoughtful girl."
"Oh, I didn't mean to say she was so dull as all those
qualities imply," said Lady Jim, sweetly.
Lady Canvey looked wrathfully round for something
to throw at her visitor's head. But the tea-table was
too far away, and the old woman prized her cups and
saucers. Finally she took refuge in a spiteful speech.
"She's an honest girL"
"I sincerely hope so, seeing she is your companion,"
replied Leah, not caring to take up so ridiculous a
challenge. "When did you start her?"
"Leah!" Lady Canvey thumped the ground again.
"Don't talk slang. If you wish to know, although
I don't think it is any of your business, Joan Tallentire
came to me two months ago, during which time you
have not come to see me."
"I was abroad," apologised Lady Jim, stifling a
yawn.
"Gambling at Monte Carlo, IH be bound."
"I did meet Jim there. He lost heavily on the red.
I won, and came home with enough to see me through
the last month."
"Who were you living on abroad?" asked the old
woman, contemptuously.
Lady Jim leaned back and placed her muff-chain
between two very red lips.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 29
"Let me think," she murmured, not put out in the
least. "Oh, that little dowdy Australian woman, who
is trying to get into society on her husband's money,
asked me to stop at their villa."
"And you did?"
"For four weeks."
"And borrowed money, Til be bound."
Lady Jim nodded blandly. "You can't expect me
to live with pigs for nothing," she said, with the
greatest coolness.
"You'd live with the devil and borrow from him,
I believe," cried the exasperated Lady Canvey, glaring.
"I do live with one," asscuted her god-daughter;
"but he's a stony-broke devil."
"More modem flowers of speech I"
"I didn't create the language."
"You can help using it."
"No. People wouldn't understand if I talked like
Lady Jane Grey or Elizabeth Pry."
"They were good women."
"But so dull," objected Lady Jim. "Why is it good
women are always dull and dowdy!"
"They are getting ready for the next world," mumbled
Lady Canvey, solemnly.
"Their outfit can't cost much, then," declared Leah,
flippantly; "but aren't we going to talk business? Think
of that poor French, sitting in the motor-car all this
time."
"You're sorry for him, I'm sure," said the old woman,
ironically.
"Horribly," replied Lady Jim, calmly; "but at least
the poor creature is cooler than I am. This room is
stifling."


30 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Don't call your fellow-sinner a creature, Leah."
"Ah! Even had I not seen Lionel I could guess he
had been with you, godmother. He loves the dirty and
disreputable."
"And you love the rich and disreputable."
"That obvious speech is hardly worthy of your re-
putation," was Lady Jim's reply. Then she crossed her
legs, rested her muff on her knee, and protested, "I
can't wait here much longer 11
"On account of French?"
"No; but I'm going to dine at the Cecil to-night,
with a boy in the Lancers. He's a nice boy."
"And a rich boy?"
"Of course! I don't like boys without money. But
this business," she went on hurriedly. "Jim and I
are in a hole."
"You ought to be in gaol," was the angry reply.
"That would be a hole," said Leah, good-humouredly;
"but you don't want to see Jim and me in the
bankruptcy court."
"Why should I bother 1 It's nothing to do with me!"
"I'm your god-daughter."
"You're a heartless cat," said Lady Canvey, angrily,
and with her eyes scintillating like jewels. "It's no use,
Leah. I've helped you and that rascal Jim over and
over again. Apply to the Duke."
"Oh, we've done that. He won't give us a penny."
"Then ask some of those nice boys you talk of."
Lady Jim sat very upright in her chair, and a be-
coming colour heightened her beauty.
"I don't ask any men for money," she declared;
"you know perfectly well, Lady Canvey, that I am an
honest woman."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 31
"And how dull that sounds," chuckled Lady Canvey,
burning the tables; "you should be more original, Leah."
"I don't mind going out to dinner with a man,"
cried Lady Jim, feeling herself much aggrieved, "nor
do I mind a box at the theatre, or some gloves or things
of that sort, so long as Jim doesn't object.'
"Pooh! Much you care for Jim."
"I do. Jim's got a temper. He told me this very
morning he'd screw my neck if I broke loose."
"Then I respect him for saying it," said Lady Canvey,
energetically; "and I'd respect him still more if he
did it."
"That's what I said to him," retorted Leah, grimly.
"All the same, I am straight enough. "No one can say
a word against me."
"I'm glad to hear it. You have your good points,
Leah," observed Lady Canvey, in a more kindly tone;
"but you show your worst side to the world. Why
not turn over a new leaf?"
"I'm just about to do so, and there's bankruptcy on
the other side, unless you help us, dear godmother,"
she ended coaxingly.
"I won't," was the firm response. "It's like pouring
water into a sieve. I've given you and Jim at least
five thousand pounds. Where is it, I ask—where?"
"We must pay our bills."
"You ought to, but you don't."
"Money will go."
"In ways it shouldn't go," snapped the old woman,
feeling herself mistress of the situation. "Don't talk
nonsense to me, Leah. You and that rascal are a couple
of spendthrifts. The Duke, bless him, started you both
with a good home and a good income, and now *


32 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Now we're on the rocks, as Jim cleverly puts it,
said Leah, who could not help seeing the humour of
the dilemma. "You didn't think Jim was so original,
did you, godmother?"
"Leah, you're impossible!"
"I'm sure I don't know why you should say that,"
remonstrated I,ady Jim. "I must keep up my position."
"It's not as if you had been expensively brought up,"
went on Lady Canvey, unheeding. "Your father was a
wasteful pauper, for he got precious little off that estate
of his in Buckinghamshire."
"And what he did get went into his own pocket,"
said Lady Jim, supplementing the family history; "but
as my mother was dead, and I was his only daughter,
he might have treated me better."
"Geoffrey Wain was like yourself, Leah—a hard-
hearted, selfish"
"Ob, spare me these adjectives," interrupted Lady
Jim, rising. "My father is dead, so there's nothing more
to say. If you can't help me, at least you needn't
call me names."
"I beg your pardon," said Lady Canvey, very politely.
"As 1 don't intend to give you a shilling, I have no
right to tell you what I think of your doings. Will
you ring the bell, please? I want Joan."
When Lady Canvey took this tone Leah knew well
that the case was hopeless. In spite of senile weeping,
it appeared that the old woman was not so easily
beguiled as might have been expected. There seemed
nothing for it but to leave in silence; but remembering
how desperate was the position, Lady Jim refrained
from ringing the bell and made a last appeal—this
time on business grounds.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 33
"If you will give me a thousand pounds for six
months," she proposed, "my husband and I will pay
it back with interest."
"And the security, my dear?"
"Our joint names," said Leah, with dignity.
"Ring the bell," was all the answer that Lady
Canvey vouchsafed to this proposal; "and good-night,
my dear."
Lady Jim recognised that she was beaten, and nothing
remained but to retire with dignity. Pressing the
button of the bell, she crossed to Lady Canvey and
kissed her withered cheek with a caressing smile.
"I am so pleased to see you looking so well," she said
gently; "but I see signs of failing in your conversation."
"You won't see any signs of lending," was the grim
response. "Oh, here you are, Joan," as that young lady
entered the room with Lionel at her heels. "Send these
people away, and read me a chapter out of that new
novel which came yesterday."
"Good-night," said Lionel, bending over the old lady,
and kissing her hand with the tenderness of a son.
She twitched it away. "There—there—good-night.
Take Leah to that miserable creature who is perish-
ing in her motor-car, and don't make love to her.
She is one of those women who are a crown to their
husbands."
Lady Jim did not wait to hear the old woman's
chuckle as she fired this last shot, but swept out of
the room, smiling kindly on Miss Tallentire. The curate
followed her, and Leah began to consider what use
she could make of him to further her plans.
"Let me drive you to Lambeth," she said, while
arranging her sables at the door.
3


34 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Lionel laughed. "Lambeth would be shocked to
see me arrive at my lodgings in such an up-to-date
style," said he, pulling up the collar of his coat. "No,
thank you, Lady James. I'll walk for a time, and then
take a Westminster Bridge 'bus."
"No, you won't," she contradicted, in an imperious
tone. "I wish to talk to you. Come, get in. French,
you can go home."
"But the car, my lady?"
"I'll look to that. Do as you're told."
Looking rather apprehensively at the machine, which
was humming and shaking in the bitter cold, French
touched his cap and moved away. Leah stepped lightly
in, and beckoned to Lionel with one hand, while she
gripped the steering-wheel with the other.
"Gome along."
The curate did not display much eagerness to come.
"Is it safe?" he asked; "you've sent the man away."
"Because I want to talk privately with you. Safe!"
she echoed in a tone of impatient scorn; "I'd drive a
car against Edge himself."
"Oh, very well," said Kaimes, carelessly, and placed
himself beside her. He was utterly devoid of fear,
and if there was to be a smash, he was not unprepared
to enter the next world. Lady Jim gave the wheel
a twirl, and the car glided through the square under
the grey muffling of the fog. Reckless as she was,
Lady Jim had to steer carefully and move slowly, lest
she should run into something, for the fog was a trifle
thicker than it had been during the afternoon. All
the same, her keen eyes could see clearly enough, and
she was not at all afraid. ' Cool under all circumstances,
Lady Jim would have hummed a ditty on the streaming


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 35
bridge of a plunging, bucking tramp-steamer, going
down in the bitter North Atlantic weather. Lionel
marvelled at her composure, and wondered if even her
clear intellect could grasp the meaning of death and
its hereafter. But Lady Jim was thinking of this
world rather than of the next, and talked of her
troubles while steering the car down Piccadilly.
"Jim and I are in a hole about money," she
announced abruptly, for there was no need to be
diplomatic with this simpleton.
"That is not unusual," murmured Lionel.
She laughed and nodded. "No. We have both a
wonderful capacity for getting through cash. Now
we've got down to what an American girl called the
bed-rock, and we want help."
"I never knew you when you did not want help,"
said the curate, wondering what was best to say; "and
in some ways, your want is very dire."
"Don't preach, Lionel. Money is better than
sermons."
"To such as you and Jim, no doubt. But setting
aside the spiritual need, a sermon on your extravagance
would do you good."
"I'm afraid not," rejoined Lady Jim, putting on
the brake for the St. James's Street incline; "it would
only go in at one ear and out of the other. When I
want sermons I'll come and hear you preach in that
dirty little church of yours. Meantime, you must
help to get Jim and me out of this scrape."
Lionel was annoyed by her reference to his church,
but from experience he knew it was worse than useless
to argue with Lady Jim. "I cannot help you," he
said stiffly; "you know my small means."


36 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Bless the man, I don't mean you to put your hand
in your pocket. I am quite aware that the clergy are
better at asking than at giving."
"You have no right to say that," remonstrated
Kaimes, warmly. "We help the poor and needy."
"In that case you have now a chance of practising
what you preach."
Lady Jim negotiated Cockspur Street and felt her
way along Trafalgar Square in the hope of hitting
Whitehall. Only when the car was buzzing down that
thoroughfare did Lionel speak.
"I am sitting in a most expensive machine," he
said, indignantly, "swathed in a costly rug, and beside
a woman with a fortune on her back in the way of
clothes."
"Then you ought to be very happy," said Leah,
calmly; "but I'll drop you at Lambeth soon, and then
you can get back to the mud and rags, which you seem
to prefer."
"My meaning is, that if you were poor you could
not afford these luxuries."
"Nonsense. It is only poor people who can afford
them. The rich make their money by self-denial, and
wearing clothes which don't fit, in houses furnished with
the riff-raff of auction-rooms. Jim and I have been
brought up to better things."
"To better worldly things," corrected Lionel, bitterly.
"And very pleasant they are, my dear man."
"It is people such as you and your husband who
make the poor discontented," insisted the curate.
"I'm sure I don't see why the poor should be," mur-
mured Lady Jim, vaguely; "there are lots of shelters
and soup-kitchens and workhouses. And I always put


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 37
ten shillings into the plate on Hospital Sunday, not to
speak of the way in which I've danced and sung at
performances—got up to help people who don't need
the money so much as I do."
"Nero fiddling, while Rome burned."
"Well, and what else could the poor man have done?"
retorted Leah. "There were no fire-brigades in those
days, were there?"
Lionel felt helpless. "You don't understand!"
"Oh yes, I do. You mean to be nasty. If I were a
vindictive woman I would drop you into the river, car
and all"—they were crossing Westminster Bridge by
this time—" but I always like to be nice. Being nasty
brings wrinkles, and makes one so old. But about our
trouble," she went on, determined to have her own way
"Lady Canvey won't help us, and no one else either.
There's the Duke"
"He has done enough for you."
"Not at all," Lady Jim assured him coolly. "He's
kept us on bread and water—that's all."
"Oh I" Lionel was shocked at this ungrateful speech.
"And you prefer pdte de foie gras and champagne?"
"Naturally! Not that I like pdte de foie gras.
They torture the geese to get it, I believe, and it seems
cruel to eat it."
"You have a tender heart," said Kaimes, sarcastically.
"It has been my ruin. But this trouble "She
harked back again to the one subject which occupied
her thoughts. "Will you see the Duke, and ask him to
give us—say—er—er—well, two thousand pounds?"
"No, I won't. You'll only waste it."
"That's so like you parsons," said Lady Jim
snappishly: "we ask for bread, and you give us a stone."


38 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Two thousand pounds' worth of bread is a trifle too
much to ask for."
"Not at all, I always ask for twice what I hope to
get. But here we are on the other side of the water.
I can't take the machine into your dirty little sluma
Get down."
Lionel did so, and stepped on to the pavement.
"Thank you for the drive," said he, lifting his soft hat.
Lady Jim nodded vaguely. "Won't you speak to
the Duke?"
Kaimes hesitated. He did not wish to appear
churlish; yet it seemed useless to interfere. "The Puke
is very independent," he explained; "I don't think he'll
listen to me."
"Oh yes, he will. You're a parson, and he is old
enough to be afraid of the next world. Toll him we're
cleaned out, and get Jim and me a thousand. And I
tell you what," added Leah, generously. "If you do,
IH give you a ten-pound note for your charities, though
I don't believe in helping paupers myself."
"Yet you ask help on that ground."
"Oh, I mean the unwashed paupers you're so fond
of."
Lionel ruminated. "Do you and Jim go down to
Firmingham for Christmas?"
"Yes. It will be horribly dull. The Duke is so
fond of that old-fashioned Dickens Christmas, with its
holly and misletoe rubbish; but we must keep in with
him. What of it?"
"Why not explain your position, and?"
"Oh, we've explained it a dozen times. But the
Duke doesn't seem to understand. Now, you can put
the thing to him nicely."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 39
"Well," said the curate, slowly. "I go to Firmingham
at Christmas to preach, so I'll speak to the Duke."
"You're a brick," cried Lady Jim, holding out her
hand. "I'll come and hear you preach when we're
Firmingham."
"I hope it will do you good," said Lionel, shaking
hands. "You think me a prig, Lady James, but I
assure you"
"I know you do," said Leah, dreading further sermons;
"but I must get home to dress. Good-night."
"Good-night," echoed Lionel, hopelessly, and saw the
car glid away into the fog between the lines of blurred
lights. "Poor woman!" he thought, turning towards
his lodgings. "How terribly sad her spiritual position
is! I trust she will get home safely, seeing she is so
worldly."
He need not have troubled. Lady Jim reached
Curzon Street in safety, and in very good spirits. Did
not a peacock's feather adorn one of the motor-car lamps?


CHAPTER IV
Firmingham was the smallest of the Duke of Pentland's
country seats, and so cosy, that he invariably held his
Christmas revels there, in preference to dispensing
Yule-tide hospitality in more splendid mansions. Situ-
ated in a woody and elevated part of Essex—that county
presumed to be a fog-tormented puddle—the quaint
Georgian house was ideal in itself, and in the repose
and charm of its surroundings.
Ugly it probably was when erected, but time had
mellowed its glaring walls of red brick, and nature
had draped them with hangings of dark green ivy. The
square, lofty house, with its freestone ornamentation,
its many windows and gigantic porch, stood on a slight
rise, a position which enhanced its noble proportions.
On three sides, level with the ground floor, extended
broad greystone terraces, with shallow steps leading
downward to smooth lawns. These, stretching for a
considerable distance, terminated in flower-beds, now
devoid of blossom and colour. And lawns, house, and
flower-gardens were girdled by pines and oaks,
sycamore-trees and elms, with noble examples of the
birch, the beech, and cedars, proud and tall. A wide,
straight avenue ran for a quarter of a mile through
grim firs to ornate iron gates swinging between massive
stone pillars, surmounted by the ducal arms. And these
game gates gave entrance to a spacious and wild park,
40


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 41
as delightful as that "wood near Athens" where
Oberon tricked Titan i a.
The charming country outside this sacred enclosure
appealed to artists in search of the picturesque. Cer-
tainly, the landscape was domestic and tame, for here
nature yielded to the controlling hand of man. But
the pleasant walks, the deep lanes, the ancient villages,
and the comfortable farmhouses, sprinkled thickly for
miles, made, in conjunction, a pretty picture of rural
peace and contentment. And the contentment was
genuine, for no better or more considerate landlord than
the Duke existed. He was popular in the neighbour-
hood, and his sway almost imperial—a true king of
the castle.
Jim and his wife drove from the station in quite a
Darby and Joan style, and, through fear of the Duke,
rather than in compliment to the season, were prepared
to enact the parts of man and wife to perfection. It
was rather hard for Leah to say pretty things to Jim
in public, and for Jim to hover anxiously round Leah
as a lover-like husband; but the Duke expected such
behaviour, and they were astute enough not to dis-
appoint him. In his rough tweeds, with jovial looks
and hearty words, Jim was quite the English squire of
the story-book, and shook hands with some of his
father's tenants who haunted the local station in quite
the "all-men-are-brothers" style. Leah also dispensed
smiles and nods to marvelling villagers, who stared
open-mouthed at her beauty. But in the comfortable
brougham, Jim folded his arms and lapsed into sulky
silence, and Leah yawned and looked out of the window
for want of something better to do. They were off the
stage now, and could take their ease.


42 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Very wintry looked the landscape through which
they passed. The meadow-lands were deep in snow, and
gaunt, leafless trees started like black spectres from the
milky ground. Ponds and ditches wore masks of
darkly-green ice, and the frozen road rang like iron
under the hoofs of the horses. A yellowish sky, with
the promise of almost immediate snow, lowered over the
starving world, and, for lack of foliage, the landscape
widened to the observing eye. A dull crimson in the
west showed that the sun was sinking in foggy
splendour. The shrill voices of children, singing music-
hall songs instead of carols, saluted their ears.
"Quite like a Christmas card, isn't it, Jim?"
"If it wasn't for the music-hall songs," assented her
husband, looking out of his window. "Wonder if there'll
be skatin'."
"I daresay. I hope so. I love skating."
"'Cause you can show off."
"We have each our little vanities, Jim," said Lady
Jim, whom hope made good-humoured. "There's the
church—what a pretty old building, and how well
the snow contrasts with the red roof and the ivy!"
"We have to go there on Christmas Day," gloomed
Kaimes.
"We must show an example to the lower orders,"
explained Leah, in her British-matron tone. "Besides,
Lionel preaches."
"How awful! Why has the Duke put him in the
bill?"
"Mr. Dane, the vicar, is ill, and asked Lionel to
fill the pulpit. The Duke has nothing to do with it."
"Wish I had," grumbled Jim. "I'd have the sermon
cut out."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 43
"You'd have the church turned into a music-hall,
I daresay," retorted his wife, contemptuously. "But
you must be as nice as you know how to Lionel.
Remember, he promised to speak to the Duke."
"I'll keep awake during his sermon, but I shan't
promise to do more, Leah. You're runnin' this
show."
"Quite so, but I don't want you to spoil it. Lionel
has great influence with the Duke."
"Frightens the old man to death with texts and
Tophet, I expect," said Jim, crossly. "I know these
parsons."
"I was not aware that your circle of friends in-
cluded such respectable acquaintances."
"Oh, I can hold a candle to a certain person as well
as you, Leah. Who do we meet at Firmingham 1"
"The usual dull lot," said Lady Jim, with a yawn.
"Frith and his stupid little wife, who seems to model
herself on David Copperfield's Dora. Then Lady
Canvey, with her new companion, is sure to be
present."
"Fancy havin' that death's-head at a Christmas
feast. Who else, Leah?"
"That little Russian doctor, Demetrius. We met him
at the Embassy, if you remember. Not the Russian
Embassy, but the French. He's out of favour with the
Czar, and dare not leave England in case he should be
sent to Siberia."
"He can practise for it here," said Jim, shivering.
"Beastly cold, isn't it, Leah? What's Demetrius doin'
heref"
"Looking after the Duke's health. He says he can
cure his gout."


44 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"I hope he will," muttered Kaimes, devoutly.
"For if Frith comes along we shan't get a shillin'!"
"I'm half afraid we shan't get one now," sighed Lady
Jim. "Here's the avenue. What a charming place!"
"I'd let it out on buildin' leases, if I had it," remarked
the prosaic Jim, " an' cut the timber. Lot of money in
those trees."
"Don't look into jewellers' windows, Jim. You're not
rich enough to buy the stock."
"Eich! It was as much as I could do to scrape
enough together for our tickets."
"Ah, well," said Leah, reassuringly, as the wheels
scrunched the frozen snow before the great porch, "we
needn't spend anything here, except half a crown for
the plate."
"Catch me wastin' money in that way," snapped
Kaimes, swinging himself out to help his wife to alight.
"Halloa, here's old Colley, lookin' like a dean as usual ";
and Jim, again assuming his hearty manner and jovial
leer, shook hands with the butler, whom he had known
since Etonian days.
The house-party was composed of hostile elements;
consequently, every one was compelled to adopt a forced
air of Christmas peace and good-will, which rather tried
jumpy nerves. The Duke dug up fossilised cousins to
participate in the festive season, and these did not suit
with some fashionable folk, who for various reasons, as
they put it, "had to be nice to the dear old Duke."
Mr. Jaffray and his poetic sister of fifty, who quarrelled
incessantly, hardly suited the tastes of Mrs. Penworthy,
as a daughter of the horse-leech and intensely up-to-
date. Nor did Graham, the Little England politician,
enjoy the company of Lord Sargon, a Tory, and a


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 45
believer in the divine right of the last legal descen-
dant of the Stuarts. Also, the various young women
and men, who were really nobodies, and fancied them-
selves somebodies, found the parts they were expected
to take in an old-fashioned Christmas rather a bore.
"The season of peace and good-will," explained the
Duke, after dinner, when this collection of smartness
and dowdiness embellished the great drawing-room.
"We must all love one another."
The company assented conventionally, and every one
smiled violently on every one, to the amusement of
Lady Canvey. "If this was the Palace of Truth," she
announced, "there would be trouble."
"But the mellowing influence of the time"
"Just so, Duke. But some people are like certain
pears, they won't mellow—they only become sleepy.
And that reminds me," she added, looking round for
Joan. "I'll go to bed soon."
"Not on Christmas Eve," urged the Duke, bending
over her chair. "We intend to keep Yule-tide as our
ancestors did—snap-dragon, the mummers, the Christ-
mas-tree, the carol-singers, and then ghost-stories."
"Not one of them clever «nough to tell a real ghost
story," snapped Lady Canvey, cynically examining faces
old and young, made up and natural.
"Oh, I know a lovely, lovely tale," said Miss Jaffray,
who was gowned girlishly in white, trimmed oddly with
ivy, and who looked like a ruin.
"That will last till to-morrow morning," chimed in
her brother, seeing an opportunity of being nasty;
"snap-dragon is more fun. Eh, Lady Frith—you used
to enjoy that once."
"I do so now — dear snap-dragon," said the


46 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Marchioness, who was sentimental and adored her tall
lean husband; "but the Christmas-tree—oh, that is too
sweet. Bunny and I met for the first time under a
Christmas-tree, and he fell in love with me. Didn't
you, Bunny?"
It was rather hard on Lord Frith that he should bo
addressed by this most inappropriate name. He was
as stiff as a Spaniard, sad in his looks, and spoke little.
Although eminently well-bred, and clever in a political
way, he was not a genial personage. In this he differed
from his father, for the Duke was stout and kindly
looking, beaming with good-humour, and quite the
style of host who would have figured in Sir Roger
de Coverley's time. Report said that he had been much
too gay in his youth, and that the late Duchess had
put up with a great deal. Lady Canvey could have
related stories about the Duke likely to be much more
entertaining than the proposed ghost-tales. But she
was fond of her host, who, like herself, was a link with the
remote past, and never told stories out of school. When
she and the Duke got together, they wagged their old
heads over dead and done-with scandals, and lamented
these days of vulgar and blatant sin. But whatever
their pasts may have been, they were an ideal couple
in the way of venerable looks and sweet old age.
Quite a Philemon and Baucis of modern times.
Meantime, "Bunny" scowled on his frivolous little
wife, and then gave her a sentimental smile. He
was always torn between love and propriety, for Lady
Frith, imitating Dora, as Lady Jim averred, said the
most exasperating things in a sweet treble. He used
to lecture her in private and explain what she should
say; but these corrections always ended in tears on


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 47
the part of the child-wife, and in complete surrender
on the part of her doting husband. Lady Frith
certainly could play her part in society excellently well
on occasions, and was more shrewd than would have
been guessed from her baby face and infantile manners.
But she wanted to be original, and therefore plagiarised
from Dickens' novel. This assumption of an imaginary
character she called "possessing a personality."
Mrs. Pen worthy was old wine in a new bottle: that is,
she looked twenty-five, and acted like an experienced
coquette of double the age. Married to a modern Job,
called Freddy, whose meekness was proverbial, she led
him about like a pet lamb and taught him a few parlor
tricks, so that people might say, "What an attached
couple"; which they did, tongue in cheek. A sweet
look from Mrs. Penworthy warmed Freddy's heart for
four and twenty hours, even though the cost of the
merest glance sometimes ran into double figures. In his
hours of leisure, which were few, he frequently told her
that she was an angel; but the expression did not sound
so agreeable on Freddy's lips, as on those of the half
dozen nice boys who constituted her court.
She went everywhere and knew everyone, and did the
things she ought not to have done, with discretion.
Freddy thought her a playful kitten, quite blind to the
fact that she had grown rapidly into a cat. But with
smiling looks and sheathed claws, and Freddy's diamonds
on her neck, she was a very pretty cat, and blinked
sleepily at those who admired her, so long as Freddy
gave her a silken cushion to rest on and plenty of cream
to drink. Moreover, she only scratched those who could
not scratch back.


48 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"I realty think it's awful fun," said Mrs. Penworthy
to her court—" all this sort of thing, you know—holly
and snow and"
"And misletoe," suggested one of tho nice hoys.
"Now if you talk like that, Algy, you shan't be
spoken to for a week."
"A look is enough for me," whispered the adoring
Algy.
"Naughty! What would Freddy say?"
Lady Canvey's sharp ears overheard the banter.
"Were I Freddy T know what I'd say," she murmured
grimly; then aloud, to spoil sport, "Is your husband
here, Mrs. Penworthy?"
"Freddy 1 Oh, dear me, no. He's gone to Paris, or
Peru, or—I forget exactly where—but it's something
beginning with a 'P.' Dear Freddy," she laid an
entirely useless fan on her lips, pensively, "he works
so very, very hard."
"And quite right too," said Lady Canvey, bluntly,
"seeing what a devoted wife he has."
"Ah, you don't know how Freddy tries me, dear
Lady Canvey. I am devoted—that I am. But, you see,
I took Freddy for better or worse."
"Oh no," corrected the old woman, tartly; "you took
the better, and Freddy took the worse."
Mrs. Penworthy, not being ready with an answer,
murmured something about "jealous old thing," and
moved away with her court to where Loid Sargon was
holding forth on his pet craze. "If only our ancient
kings were back," he said, but not too loud, as the
Duke might have disapproved of the disloyalty, "Christ-
mas would be Christmas. In the good old times of the
blessed martyr Charles'


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 49
"The bad old times," contradicted Mr. Graham; "it
was then that our beloved country began to annex places
-which are useless. Let us give up everything beyond the
Channel, and attend to our own country. Then, indeed,
Christmas will be Christmas."
"And the parish pump will pour forth beer," said
Mr. Jaffray, referring to the badge of the Little
Englander.
"Ah, the conduits ran wine in those sweet old days,"
sighed his sister, in her poetic vein.
"And people never washed," said a truculent old
gentleman given to sanitation. "What I say is, let
every house have a bath-room."
"I say, Jim, is this going to last for ever?" asked
Leah, considerably bored by these intellectual fire-
works.
"A week, anyhow," replied Jim, who was feeling
happy after a large dinner; "but if you will come to
the Zoo, Leah, you mustn't find fault with th' animals."
"They are scarcely so interesting."
"Oh! Animals don't talk, I 'spose you mean."
"You do," retorted Lady Jim, calmly. "There's
Demetrius!" and she left her husband in the clutches
of Mrs. Penworthy, with a whispered caution. "Don't
let her go too far, Jim. This week we're the re-
spectable middle-class pair, who live in slate-roofed
houses."
Jim did not quite understand, but he vaguely guessed
that he was to keep Mrs. Penworthy at a distance,
For some minutes he did this, but she soon overcame
his scruples, and begged him to take her to the picture
gallery. The discreet court did not follow.
Constantino Demetrius was a small, dark, neat man
4


5o LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
with an ivory complexion, black hair, a waxed moustache,
and a stereotyped smile. He was dressed perfectly
in a foreign fashion, and placed his small feet together
when he made his bow to Lady Jim. His English was
much better than his morals, and perhaps this was
why Lady Jim beckoned him to her side. Demetrius
was one of her most ardent admirers, and she had a
vague idea of making use of him. At present she did
not see how to utilise his services, but if ever she
required a thoroughly unscrupulous man, she knew
that she would need him. Besides, he was really a
clever doctor, and when Lady Jim was ill, she felt it
would hasten the cure to think she was being attended
to for nothing.
"What do you think of all this?" she asked him,
when they were snugly bestowed in a cosy corner.
"It is very English," said the Russian, with a shrug.
"That means very dull!"
Demetrius clicked his heels together and made a bow
from the middle of his body. "At present I cannot
say so," said he, gallantly.
"And you wouldn't, if you thought so!"
"Madam, the truth to a ravishing woman"
"Is like sunshine to a coal-miner: we get it so
rarely. By the way, how is Mademoiselle Aksakoff?"
"She is well."
"And as pretty as ever?"
*' I see nothing of beauty but what is before me.'
"All the same, you will leave me and marry
Mademoiselle Aksakoff."
Demetrius looked at Lady Jim with such fire in
his dark eyes that she felt slightly uncomfortable in
spite of her courageous nature. It was easy to play


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 51
with the hearts of phlegmatic Englishmen, but to
amuse herself with this fiery Slav was like trifling
with a tiger. Nevertheless, Lady Jim, with a view
to future contingencies, allured him with sweet looks,
and tantalised him with half-granted favours. Katinka
Aksakoff, the daughter of a Russian official attached
to the Embassy, loved Demetrius even to the extent
of helping him to escape the lures of the secret police,
which would have drawn him to the Continent, en
route for Siberia. Therefore she hated Lady Jim,
because that astute diplomatist kept Demetrius dangling
at her skirts in the bonds of a never-to-be-requited love,
on the chance that some day she might require him.
And the Russian knew that Leah Kaimes was a
woman who wanted all for nothing, but, if possible,
he intended to make his own bargain with her. Lady
Jim was clever, but Demetrius thought he could en-
tangle her.
"Monsieur Demetrius." she said after a pause, during
which the fire died out of the Russian's eyes, "if you
wanted money"
"I would get it," said he, determinedly.
"But if you saw no way of getting it?"
"I would make the way."
"You can't make bricks without straw."
"Clever people can," replied Demetrius, dryly.
Lady Jim looked down at her rings.
"Are you clever?" she asked.
"To benefit some people I might be," he said in
a low voice.
She stared straight before her, and noted that Lionel
was chatting with Miss Tallentire. As yet the curate
had not spoken with the Duke, so that was a quarter


52 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
yet to be tried. Nevertheless, Lady Jim had a shrewd
idea, in spite of the comedy being played by herself
and Jim, and of Lionel's pleading, that the Duke
would be adamant. It behoved her to have another
string to her bow, and this she could find in Demetrius.
But she did not know yet to what use she could put
him. It was impossible to ask him to sway the Duke,
strong as his influence was with that gouty nobleman.
Lad)7 Jim had a good deal of what she called pride,
and did not intend to let Demetrius know her true
position, if she could help it.
Before she could say anything, and really she did
not know what to say, the Duke gave the signal for
the commencement of the Christmas festivities. These
were strong in intention, but weak in execution. The
company burnt their fingers over snap-dragon, capered
in Sir Roger de Coverley, tempted the Fates with
roasting chestnuts, and finally adjourned to a large
hall, where glittered a splendid Christmas-tree.
Then danced in the mummers, villagers all, tricked
out as JEtobin Hood and Maid Marian, as the Terrible
Turk, Santa Claus, St. George and the Dragon—a
most meek beast—and with hordes of merry, laughing
children. The Christmas tree dropped its costly, many-
coloured fruits into expectant laps, and a chorus of
praiso hymned the munificence of the gratified Duke.
Even Lady Jim thanked him for the dainty gold-net
purse which she received, and if she did peep in slyly to
see whether it was lined with a cheque or a bank-note,
that was only out of compliment to her father-in-law's
known generosity.
"Santa Claus has not got a banking account," she
murmered to her husband.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 53
Jim, who was scowling at his gift,—a set of sleeve-
links enamelled with the four vices—women, cards,
drink, and racing,—growled.
"He's got a dashed lot of impertinence. As if I'd
wear these things!"
"No," said Leah, tickled by the implied rebuke, "it
doesn't do to wear your heart on your sleeve—links ":
a witticism which was entirely lost on Jim. He was
one of the many obtuse swine who trampled on Leah's
pearls.
What with eating and drinking, and professing sea-
sonable sentiments which certainly did not come from
the heart, everyone became bored and bilious and frac-
tious. Leah surveyed the yawning revellers with a
feeling that Christmas, old style, was a failure.
"You can't arrange an orgy," was her comment to
Lady Canvey, "it must come by chance, to be success-
ful."
"I don't think Pentland intended anything so dis-
reputable," retorted the old dame, "consequently you
are disappointed."
"Bored," Lady Jim assured her. "I suppose it's
eating plumpudding which always makes me dull."
"But not good-natured."
'' My digestion has its limits. Good night, god-mother;
I suppose it's time for you to be taken to pieces," and
having stricken Lady Canvey dumb with rage, she
slipped away to bed, wondering what would happen
before next Christmas.
"Something must be done," she thought, wearily
climbing the stairs. "If Lionel fails with the Duke,
Demetrius might"
Might what? She did not know. But she really did
feel that something might be done with Demetrius.


CHAPTER V
A congregation drawn to the Church of All Angels,
by various inducements, filled it to overflowing the
next morning. Some came because it was Christinas
Day, others to hear Lionel Kaimes preach; many desired
to see the ducal party, and one or two presented
themselves in God's house to thank Him for the gift
of His Son, sent to save a dying world. Knowing the
Duke's old age impeccability, nearly all his guests were
present and filled three large pews, to the wondering
awe of the villagers and their wives. These last,
especially, were distracted by the splendour of the
ladies' dresses, and the variety of the new fashions.
Many laudable imitations of those marvellous frocks
were visible in country lane and village street before
Easter.
Lady Jim and her husband discreetly sat in the body
of the church, some distance from the pulpit, as Leah
did not wish to come under the curate's eye. She
thought he was quite capable of preaching at her, in
which case a natural resentment would have led to
a quarrel, prejudicial to the exercise of Lionel's good
offices with the Duke. Moreover, Leah, occupied with
her own thoughts, did not want to be distracted by
a sermon of religious platitudes. She stood up and sat
down mechanically, looking too flamboyant to be in
54


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 55
harmony with the simplicity of the building. Tucked
into the opening of her " Incroyable" coat, claret-coloured
and with strikingly large buttons, she wore a cup-shaped
nosegay of white'and pink orchids. Her hat was large,
with many leathers of the new Titian red, and resembled
nothing in nature. She did not wear jewellery, but
the vivid colours of her dress made up for the absence
of gems. There was something tropical about Leah,
and in that chill grey church she glowed like a gorgeous
flower, all splendour and perfume and radiant vitality.
Her exuberant beauty and colour attracted even the
attention of Jim. He bent forward, when the prayer
for the King's Majesty was being said:
"I believe you're enjoyin' it," muttered Jim, resent-
fully.
"H-sh-s-s-s!" breathed Leah, devoutly, and knelt
in a saintly attitude which was far from expressing
her real feelings. For the moment she did not pray
herself, or think of the prayer that was being offered.
Her thoughts were busy with bills and duns and Jim's
defects, and the chances that Demetrius might prove
useful. And when she did murmur a prayer, it was
one of those which are rarely answered, or, if answered,
turn to the confusion of the suppliant. Plenty of
money, no trouble, much enjoyment, and the destruction
of her enemies, were the elements which composed this
remarkable petition. Lady Jim was not very clear
as to whom she was asking, but she had a vague
feeling, which she mistook for religion, that there might
be Some One who could give her what she required.
Moreover, it was just as well to be on the safe side.
Yet, even as she tried the experiment, the earthly
superstition asserted itself, and she carefully fingered


56 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
a peacock's feather inside her muff. This serving
of God and a fetish may seem ridiculous in a woman
of Leah's capacity. Nevertheless, she devoutly believed
that if the unseen Deity did not help her, the seen
Baal would. And after all, was there not a cat of
Heine's acquaintance, who made genuflections before
a pink-ribboned flageolet? But cats, as the poet re-
marks, are so superstitious. And Leah the pantheress
was of the feline tribe.
Having made herself safe with the Unknown, Lady
Jim joined in the ensuing hymn bravely. She thought
the words dreary and the tune barbarous, but the
fervour of her deep contralto voice reached the Duke's
ears, and he gave her an approving glance; so that
was something gained. Leah would have gone through
the whole collection of Ancient and Modern to learn
the precise meaning of that look, but she was satisfied
with guessing, and sat down cheerfully to be bored
with the sermon. It occurred to her that the prayer
had been heard, and would probably be granted. But
whether by the peacock's feather, or the Deity of whom
Lionel now began to speak, she could not determine.
"And His name shall be called Wonderful"—this
was the curate's text, and he discoursed on it in a simple
and impressive way. Speaking of the birth of Christ,
of His teaching and plan of salvation, of His self-
denying life and unwearying kindness, the young man's
grave and tender periods shamed the most inattentive
into thoughtfulness. Lionel was not a born orator,
but he was very much in earnest, and preached with
an emphasis which carried undeniable conviction.
Mrs. Penworthy felt suddenly virtuous, and resolved
to repeat as much of the sermon as she could remember


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 57
to Freddy, so that he might not grumble so much over
what the silly thing called "her extravagance." Even
Lady Canvey wagged her aged head, and thought that
she might help a few deserving paupers, if their needs
could be supplied in moderation. Leah herself was
impressed, to the extent of hoping that the Duke would
see that it behoved him to fill the empty pockets of
a deserving and pretty daughter-in-law. Jim would
have approved of this sentiment, but all the time he
was fast asleep, and woke up cross when she pinched
him to rise for the Doxology.
Beyond a stray sentence here and there, Leah had
not paid much attention: she had heard it all before,
though some of the sentiments were new, and, as
she thought, ridiculous. When the preacher was fairly
started she relapsed into her own thoughts. These
being unpleasant, she permitted her hard eyes to wander
round the church. After a wondering gaze at the
extraordinary fashions of the women, and a patronising
examination of the decorations, she caught sight of
a face belonging to a young man on the other side
of the aisle. He was so like Jim that she involuntarily
turned to see if her husband still slumbered placidly
by her side. The double was dressed in grey tweeds
and looked almost like a gentleman. He stooped a
trifle, in spite of his square shoulders and stalwart
figure, and every now and then coughed painfully.
Apparently he was ill with some pulmonary complaint,
which the freezing atmosphere of the church accentuated.
Leah wondered at the resemblance, and thought of
certain traditionary stories concerning the youthful days
of the Duke. But after a second glance she decided
that perhaps there was nothing in it. Jim was of


58 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
a pink-and-white, bovine, common-place type, and there
were hundreds like him in manners and morals and
looks. Moreover, she was so weary of seeing Jim's
inane face over the breakfast-cups that she did not care
to gaze at the imitation. Nevertheless, being a woman
with the orthodox share of Eve's curiosity, she resolved
to ask questions about this consumptive double. Mrs.
Arthur, the Birmingham housekeeper, could doubtless
tell some story, as she knew much more about the
Duke than had ever appeared, even in the most
scurrilous society paper. And Lady Jim knew how
to make her talk.
When the plate circled, Leah quadrupled Jim's half-
crown, and he did not approve when the piece of gold
jingled amongst the silver.
"You've been borrowin'," Jim accused her in an
angry whisper.
"Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow," sang
Leah, without replying; and put her whole heart and
voice into the hymn in the hope that some of the
blessings might trickle her way. And why not, seeing
that she had baited her hook with a sprat to catch
the much-needed mackerel? But it was useless to ex-
plain this to Jim. He would not have understood such
lavish fishing.
"It was really too lovely," Mrs. Penworthy assured
the Duke at luncheon. "Mr. Kaimes spoke just the
things I feel. And the decorations—oh, really—so very
tasteful. But the misletoe, Duke. I don't think there
should have been misletoe round the pulpit."
"Such an immoral plant," chimed in Lady Canvey,
with sharp, twinkling eyes; "and so useless to some
people, who can dispense with it as an excuse. I


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 59
daresay the Druids were no better than they should
have been."
"They were before my time," said Mrs. Penworthy,
very prettily; "and you must have been quite a child
then, dear Lady Canvey."
The sermon affected Lady Frith in another fashion.
"Oh, dear Bunny," she said to her saturnine husband,
"what a lovely way Lionel puts things! Do let us
help people. There's Leah, you know"
"Exactly," assented Frith, dryly. "I do know, and
for that reason I don't intend to waste money in that
direction."
"But Lionel talked of aiding the poor and needy."
"That doesn't include the extravagant and un-
grateful," retorted her lord. "You are an unsophisti-
cated child, Hilda."
"Oh, Bunny, how could you call poor Leah and
her husband names? We must love every one at this
season."
"Oh, I'll love them as much as you please; but not
to the extent of supporting them."
Plainly there was nothing to be got out of Frith,
as Lady Jim decided when the Marchioness reported
a part of this conversation later in the day. But she
attempted to soften the Marquis by saying things
which she knew the child-wife would babble again to
her hard-hearted husband.
"Jim and I don't want money, dear," she said, kissing
Lady Frith; "so long as Frith is nice to us, we don't
care. You have your position to keep up, and we are
nothing. But it was sweet of you to speak."
"Oh no," prattled Hilda, in her childish way. "1
want every one to love me, ever so much."


6o LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"I am sure they do. Isn't Frith jealous?"
"As nearly jealous as a perfect man can be."
"I thought perfect men had no imperfection," retorted
Lady Jim, ironically; "but it's all right, dear," another
kiss—" we must bear our cross, as Lionel said this
morning. Now I must go to see old Mrs. Arthur. One
must be good to one's inferiors."
The result of this conversation was, that Lady Frith
told her husband of Leah's pointedly correct humbleness;
whereat the marquis laughed shortly. He quite under-
stood Lady Jim's tactics, and was resolved that they
should not succeed. Frith was one of the few men
Lady Jim had never fascinated, and she hated to be
under his clear-sighted gaze. If Hilda could have
heard Leah's inward remarks as she proceeded to the
housekeeper's room, she would scarcely have given so
favourable a report.
"Good day, Mrs. Arthur," said Lady Jim, to the
old-fashioned dame in the black silk and lace cap, who
rose to drop a prim curtsey. "I have come to wish
you the compliments of the season."
"Thank you, my lady. Won't you be seated 1"
Lady Jim selected the most comfortable chair in
the quaint small room, and graciously requested the
housekeeper to resume her seat. Then she asked
about Mrs. Arthur's cough, and her sailor son, and
her married daughter, and after various other things
in which she did not feel the least interest. The old
woman, much impressed with Leah's condescension,
and not sufficiently clever to see through her arts, ex-
panded like a winter rose in this aristocratic sunshine.
In a few minutes she was chatting quite at her ease,
and with the discursive garrulousness of old age. This


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 61
was the unguarded mood Leah dosired for the satisfaction
of her curiosity, and having created it by an appear-
ance of the deepest interest in Mrs. Arthur's dome-tic
small-beer chronicles, she proceeded to take advantage
of the opportunity.
"The service was delightful this morning," she
observed; "the decorations were charming and the
congregation so attentive. I suppose you know every
one in the village, Mrs. Arthur."
"I ought to, my lady. I am Firmingham bred and born."
"And a very good representative of the place," said
Leah, kindly. "The villagers are really quite nice-
looking—especially the men."
"If you saw my son"
"Was he in church this morning ?" asked Lady Jim,
who knew very well that the young man was with his
ship in Chinese waters. "I saw rather a handsome
young fellow in one of the pews, but he looked ill.
Of course, I thought him handsome," she went on
carelessly, and with a soft laugh: "he was the image
of my husband."
Mrs. Arthur looked rather nervous. "There is only
one young man hereabouts who resembles Lord James,"
she observed, "and I do not wonder you saw the
likeness, my lady. Harold Garth is like Lord James
now, and is such as his Grace was in his youth."
"Oh!" Leah's eyes opened. "Do you mean to
say?"
"Nothing, my lady—nothing"; and Mrs. Arthur's
hands fiddled nervously with the gold chain she wore
round her neck. Then, woman-like, she went on to
contradict herself. "Harold Garth has lately returned
from Canada, where he went to farm."


62 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Garth? I seem to know the name!"
"I don't know who can have mentioned it to you,
my lady. He is the only Garth in the district, and
I daresay you never saw him before."
"Well, no; I must admit that I never have. Why?"
"Canada," explained Mrs. Arthur, vaguely. "He has
been there for the last twenty years. He went out
to make money, at the age of fifteen."
"And has apparently returned with consumption."
"Yes, poor lad; but the Duke is very kind to him."
Lady Jim laughed meaningly. "Oh, the Duke is very
kind to him, is he? That's so like the Duke. Always
thoughtful. Fifteen and twenty—he is about thirty-
five."
"More or less, my lady."
"My husband's age," said Lady Jim, pointedly.
"Yes, my lady," assented Mrs. Arthur, closing her
lips firmly.
Leah tried another question. "Why doesn't this
young man's family keep him instead of letting the
Duke support him?"
"Harold Garth has no family, my lady. His mother
is dead."
"And his father?"
Mrs. Arthur looked down. "I know nothing about
his father," she said in low tones. "Harold is a lonely
man, poor soul. He lives at the Pentland Arms, and
Mrs. Kibby, the landlady, is as kind to him as though
he were her own son. And his Grace—bless him—
does all he can to smooth Harold's way to the grave.
He sent that foreign doctor to"
"Demetrius," said Lady Jim, quickly, "Oh, so
Demetrius knows him?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 63
"Yes, my lady. He thinks he can cure him of this
consumption. I do not think so myself" proceeded Mrs.
Arthur, garrulously, "for Harold is booked for death.
You can see it in his face. I believe his Grace wants
him to go to a warmer climate."
"What a deep interest the Duke takes in this man!"
Mrs. Arthur looked up suddenly, and a flush dyed
her withered cheek. The eyes of the two women met,
and the situation was adjusted without words. After
that interchange of glances Leah knew, as well as if
Mrs. Arthur had explained at length, that Harold
had ducal blood in his veins. "And that is why he
is so like Jim," she thought, rising to go. "I hope
the poor fellow will get well," she said aloud; "but
really, he was foolish to venture into that cold church."
"I don't think he minds if he is dead or alive, my
lady. He has no friends."
"Oh yes, the Duke"
"Certainly his Grace, who is a friend to all," said
Mrs. Arthur loyally.
Lady Jim laughed, and went away. She had
learned all she wished to learn, but, beyond satisfy-
ing a passing curiosity, had no desire to pursue the
subject. Still, she thought it would amuse her to ask
Demetrius a few questions concerning this patient, and
went in search of him. Somehow the subject of Harold
Garth and his resemblance to Jim took hold of
her imagination, and she could not put it out of
her head. While she was thinking of other matters,
the thought of the strange likeness—now fully
accounted for—would slip in, and she would find her-
self pondering. Afterwards she declared that this
insistence of a passing thought was the work of


64 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Providence, for so she called the peacock-feather Baal
she served.
Demetrius was not in the house, having heen called
out to see some one who was ill in the village. So
Lionel assured her, and moreover supplied her with
the name of the patient. "It's a young fellow called
Harold Garth," he said gravely; "he foolishly came
to church this morning, and, being already ill, is woroe
from having ventured out."
"I never heard a parson call going to church foolish-
ness before," said Lady Jim, surprised that the subject
should crop up again in so unexpected a manner. "Who
is Harold Garth?"
"A protege of the Duke's. He has just returned
from Canada," said the curate, simply; "and, curiously
enough, he is rather like the Kaimes family. Perhaps
that is why the Duke is so kind to him."
"Perhaps it is," said Leah, wondering how much
Lionel guessed. "I don't think I ever saw him," she
added, mendaciously.
"If you did you would mistake him for your husband."
"How awful!" shuddered Leah. "As though one
Jim wasn't enough to be bothered with. But can't we
talk of something more interesting—your sermon, for
instance?"
"I trust you found that interesting," said Lionel,
smiling.
"Oh yes—it wasn't too long."
"I see "—dryly—" you judge the interest of a sermon
by its length."
"Oh no—really, I quite enjoyed your preaching."
"I don't preach that people may enjoy, but that
they may think seriously of what they are."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 65
"I'm sure I think seriously enough, Lionel. Have
you spoken to the Duke? No? I wish you would."
"To-morrow. This is Christmas Day, remember."
"As if I could forget, with all the nonsense that's
going on here," retorted Lady Jim, glancing superciliously
round at the decorations. "Every one is overdoing the
brotherly business. I quite expected my maid to tell
me that she loved me. And I don't see why you
shouldn't ask the Duke to-day. You'll squeeze the
money out of him the more easily while he's got this
Christmassy emotion on."
"I don't squeeze money out of people," said Kaimes,
stiffly.
"What a large income you must have, then."
"I live within it."
"That's nothing to boast of. I'd live within mine, if
I had ten thousand a year."
"I doubt it," replied Lionel, who could not help
laughing at her coolness; "you'd spend fifty thousand if
you had it."
"Rather—if I wore the Duchess of Pentland. But
there's no chance of such luck. Frith's too healthy.
Do smile again, Lionel—you've got such nice teeth, and
look quite a good sort when you let yourself go."
"What am I to smile at?" asked the curate, with
deliberate austerity.
"At me, and on me. I put ten shillings into the
plate this morning."
Lionel was a thoroughly good young man, and had a
great sense of the dignity of his cloth and the responsi-
bility of his position. But he also possessed humour,
and could not help retorting after the style of a certain
witty bishop.
5


66 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"That's the smallest fire insurance I ever heard of,"
said he, genially, and moved away, leaving Lady Jim
amused.
"I didn't think he had so much fun in him," she
thought, making for the library; "but the speech is too
clever to be original"—which showed that Leah sus-
pected the existence of the witty bishop.
But the word insurance put her mind on Jim's mad
idea to pretend death and cheat the company out of
twenty thousand pounds, with accumulations. Leah
devoutly wished that the trick could be managed. Its
success meant a clearance of debt and of Jim, when the
millennium would come, and, as Mrs. Nickleby's admirer
put it, " all would be gas and gaiters." She resolved to
have another chat with Jim on the subject, and mean-
time went to seek for a novel. After boring herself
with Mrs. Arthur and Lionel, she wished to read away
a well-earned hour of peace.
But this for the moment she was not destined to
enjoy. The library was empty, save for the presence of
the last person whom Lady Jim wished to encounter.
When Miss Jaffray looked up from a gigantic volume
with an almost toothless smile, Leah turned to fly. But
the old maid arrested her flight with a joyful shout.
She usually did shout, as her brother was slightly deaf,
which deceived her into thinking the entire human race
was likewise afflicted.
"So sweet of you to come here," shouted Miss Jaffray.
u I am just dying for some one to talk to."
If the decision had been left to Lady Jim, she would
have gladly avoided the talk, to bring about this
result. But it occurred to her scheming mind that
this dull spinster was wealthy, and might be cajoled


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 67
or frightened into lending money. Leah did not specify
the sum, even in her own mind, as she did not know
how much ore this virgin soil would yield, if properly
worked. Sitting down promptly, she began to chat on
the first subject that came into her head.
"What are you reading so earnestly?" she asked
sweetly.
"The Morte d'Arthur," said the spinster, fondling
the ponderous tome which her weak knees could hardly
support.
"Heavens!" thought Lady Jim, with a charming
smile, meaning nothing, "am I to be bored with another
Arthur?"
"The black-letter edition," went on Miss Jaffray, in
a loud and oratorical voice. "Most interesting. So
sweet to think of those dear dead days, when knights
went about as troubadours with guitars in steel armour,
dying for queens of beauty."
"Delightful," assented Lady Jim, yawning at the
dullness of the picture; "but"—with a disparaging
glance at the lettering—" isn't it rather like reading a
German newspaper? I prefer novels myself."
"So do I, when not in a poetic humour," shouted her
companion. "All the old, old masters of fiction. Dickens,
Bulwer-Lytton, Wilkie Collins. I love them all—
every one."
"I seem to know those names," ventured Leah, care-
fully. "What did they write, Miss Jaffray?"
The spinster gasped. Brought up in a library, she
could not understand this fashionable ignorance, which,
truth to say, was partially assumed. Leah was by no
means the ignoramus she made herself out to be. But,
for the 6ake of business, she thought it judicious to


68 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
foster Miss Jaffray's vanity by assuming an inferior
position.
"Do you ever read?" asked Miss Jaffray, in the
voice of Goliath challenging the army of Saul.
"Oh yes; society newspapers, and French novels."
"But they are so improper."
"Nothing amusing is improper to my mind," said
Lady Jim, calmly; "and I really did skim through a
page or two of Dickens. Horribly dull, I thought
him."
"Oh!" Miss Jaffray gasped again. "He did so much
good."
"Perhaps that is why his books are dull. Thoroughly
good people are invariably "Here she discreetly
pulled the reins, as Miss Jitffray, considering herself good,
might not relish the malicious witticism, presuming she
could understand it. "I'll take you as my instructor,
dear Miss Jaffray," added Leah, stifling another yawn.
"Do tell me what to read."
"There's Wilkie Collins's Armadale," said the old maid,
delighted at being put into the pulpit; "but you may
think me rude for recommending that."
"Why should I?"
"There's a character in it so like you, in appearance,"
apologised Miss Jaffray; "in appearance only, you will
understand. I should be sorry indeed to think that in
morals you resembled Miss Gwilt."
"Miss—how much?"
"Gwilt. G-w-i-l-t," spelt the spinster—" the strange
name of a strange woman. She's the character I spoke
of. No, really you mightn't like her. She was—well—
er—er—disreputable. Better begin with The Woman
in White."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 69
"Oh, I have heard of that. What is it about?"
"A striking resemblance between two women. One
is passed off by her wicked husband as the other, and
buried—to get money, you understand—a kind of fraud."
Leah turned cold and hot. It sounded as though this
simple woman was explaining the contemplated deceit
of herself and Jim. "I don't think I should like that
took at all," she said, diplomatically cunning; "it
sounds dull. I would rather read about the naughty
woman—Miss—what's-her-name?"
"It's in yonder bookshelf," said Miss Jaffray, point-
ing a lean finger to the end of the room, "along with
the rest of the master's novels. But please don't think
that I fancy you resemble Miss Gwilt's moral character.
You certainly have her auburn hair."
"Red hair," corrected Lady Jim, rising. "I'm
rather proud of it."
"You ought to bo," said the old maid, with simple
admiration, and rising to put away her tome. "I can
imagine you a queen of beauty in the dear old tourna-
ments, with knights at your feet."
"Oh, many are there now, without tournaments,"
said Leah, with superb self-confidence; "but I prefer
men of higher rank than knights. Though I will say,"
she added generously, "that men who have won knight-
hood are cleverer than those donkeys who inherit."
All this was Greek to Miss JafiVay, and after putting
away her volume she departed, with a final recom-
mendation about Miss Gwilt. Lady Jim walked to
where Wilkie Collins's novels lined the shelf, and—
ieedless to say—selected The Woman in White.
"I wonder if lean make fact out of fiction?" she
asked herself.


CHAPTER VI
It was Jim's custom to saunter into his wife's bedroom,
before descending to make a hearty meal, and complain
that he had rested badly. This was a pleasing fiction,
as he slept like a dormouse, and snored steadily through
the hours he allotted to sleep without even a dream.
But on entering for his morning grumble, he was so
surprised to find Leah in her dressing-gown before a
brisk fire, with a breakfast at her elbow and a book
open on her lap, that he forgot his egotism. Jim could
scarcely believe his lazy eyes, for he knew well that
Leah was no student.
"What's up?" he asked, after pausing at the door
to say " By Jupiter!" with every appearance of surprise.
"Got a headache?"
"If I had, should I cure it with a novel?" asked his
wife, disdainfully.
"Don't know, I'm sure," replied Jim, with the
matutinal good-humour of a healthy animal. "Doctors
recommend such rum things nowadays. But it doesn't
matter. I'm off to feed."
"Wait for ten minutes, Jim. I have something to
say."
"You're not goin' to read, are you? I can't stand
readin' on a empty stom—well, on nothin'."
"Have you ever heard of The Woman in White?"
asked Leah, irrelevantly.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 71
"No; who is she?"
"It's a novel."
"Don't read 'em. Real life's much more fun."
Lady Jim looked at him steadily. "We might
turn this "—she touched the book lightly —" into real
life,"
"Goin' to make a play of it?" questioned Jim,
obtusely.
"Well, you might call it a comedy," she answered.
"I certainly do not want it to be a tragedy—though
it might come to that," she ended in a lower tone.
Jim opened his puzzled blue eyes. "Want of break-
fast, I s'pose," he ruminated, " but I don't know what
you're talkin' about."
"I've passed a white night," announced his wife,
abruptly.
"What's that?"
"The French expression for a wakeful night."
"But you say it in English, and how can?"
"It's useless wasting French on a man who under-
stands only the argot of the troltoir."
"You're wastin' it now. A wakeful night—eh?
Why didn't you try that new sedative Demetrius gave
you?"
"I didn't want to sleep. This book was too interest-
ing. I wish you to read it"; and she extended the
novel to her husband.
"What!!!" If she had offered poison Jim could
not have betrayed more abhorrence. "Read? You—
want—me—to—read?"
"Well, you know words of two syllables, don't you 1"
she retorted impatiently. "Take it."
Jim handled the book as though it were a scorpion,


72 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
turning over a hundred leaves rapidly. "Love an'
diaries, and—oh, bosh!"
"Not at all, unless bosh is your word for common
sense. I see a chance of getting that money."
"What money?"
Leah made an impatient movement. "How dense
you are! The insurance money, of course—the twenty
thousand pounds. Suppose you died"
"Stop it. I told you I wouldn't."
"And you told me that you might pretend to die."
"Oh, I was only talkin'. You don't want me to
be buried alive!"
"It wouldn't be much good," said his wife, with a
shrug. "We must have a genuine corpse—like you.''
An inkling of her meaning stole into Jim's dull brain,
and he sat down suddenly. "Go on," said he, hoarsely.
"Harold Garth is like you."
"Where the—what the—you saw him?"
"In church yesterday. He's ill with consumption,
dying they say. Demetrius attends him. Supposing—
supposing"—her imagination made her cheeks flush—
"supposing—oh, you understand."
The sluggish comprehension of the man grasped her
hinted scheme suddenly, and his eyes lighted up.
"Supposing he died and was buried in place of me, you
mean?"
"You don't suppose I mean murder, do you?" she
cried, rising to the height of her tall figure and speaking
irritably.
"You would if there was money in it," said Jim,
grimly.
"It would be a natural death," went on Leah, rapidly,
and pacing the room to relieve the strain on her nerves.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 73
"The poor fellow can't live long. If he died, and was
buried as"
"No go," contradicted Jim, rising in his turn. "Every
one about here knows of the likeness; for which," he
added slowly, " there's a reason."
"So I learned yesterday from Mrs. Arthur."
Jim was indignant. "Do you mean to tell me?"
"I mean to tell you that I gathered the truth from
what she left unsaid. You don't suppose that I require
words to explain things."
"I don't see how it's to be managed," said Kaimes,
reflectively.
« If it could be, would you surrender everything
and?"
"Yes, I would, for a quarter of the money. Then I'd
go out of your life an' to Lima"
« Lima," said Lady Jim, stopping suddenly. "Why
to Lima? You've been there three times since we
married."
"No end of a place, Lima," muttered Jim, feebly.
His wife looked at his colouring face attentively, and
laughed in a short, rasping manner. An idea had
occurred to her which she did not think it necessary to
impart to Jim. "When you're legally dead," she said
sharply, "I shall have no control over your life or
movements. All I want to know is, if this business can
be managed, will you do your share by disappearing?"
"Yes; but I don't see how"
"Read that book, Jim, and you'll understand better.
It gave me the idea, though our plot will be different
in many ways."
"Well," said Jim, tucking the novel under his arm,
"I'll dip into it"


74 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Don't let any one see you reading, and replace it
in the library without any one knowing."
"Why should I?"
"You fool," snarled Leah, viciously; "if this thing
is to be carried through safely, no suspicion must rest
on either of us. Do you suppose that I have spoken
to this double of yours, or have let any one know that
I have read the book 1 I don't think it really matters
'much, as people are too stupid to see things; but it
is just as well to be on the safe side."
"But I don't see how "began Kaimes again,
and again she cut him short.
"I do—I do. Demetrius attends this young fellow.''
"Oh, and he—Demetrius, I mean"
"Leave me to deal with him," she said confidently.
Jim flung the book on the floor, and looked at her
with clenched hands. "What is this Demetrius to
you?" he asked violently.
"A puppet I can pull the strings of," she retorted;
"and be good enough to remember that you are not
in a training-stable."
"If that beastly little Tartar"
"My dear Jim," said his wife coolly, "if you ask
me about Demetrius, I shall certainly ask you about
Lima."
Kaimes was taken aback. "Lima," he stammered,
flushing to the roots of his fair hair. "What do you
mean?"
"I mean that you can trust me to ask no questions,
if you will mind your own business."
"As you are my wife, Demetrius is my business."
"Think of me as your widow then," she mocked, "and
that I can't be without the aid of Demetrius."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 75
"Why can't you speak plainly?"
"I might ask you the same question, but"—she
picked up the novel and thrust it into Jim's unwilling
hands—"I fancy you and I understand one another
pretty well."
"I won't have any man making love to you."
"Very good," said Leah, calmly; "then you must
remain a pauper, and my husband. I'm not going to
ill this trouble to share you with"
"Well, with whom ?—out with it!"
"I think you can answer that question best, Jim."
"Upon my honour"
"Pah!" she said with disgust. "Hadn't we better
leave honour out of this shady business we are about
to embark in?"
"You really mean to"
"I really mean to get that twenty thousand pounds!"
"You'll lose me," Jim reminded her uneasily.
Leah made a grimace. "My loss is another's gain,"
she said significantly. "Now go away, Jim. I have to
dress in my best frock in order to fascinate Demetrius";
and she vanished into her dressing-room with a pro-
voking laugh.
Lord Jim said something about Demetrius that in-
volved the use of unprintable language. Then he
slipped the book into the pocket of his shooting-jacket
and lumbered downstairs. In spite of his squabbling
with Leah, and the existence of some one in Lima, he
was furiously jealous of Demetrius, and scowled at the
Russian when they met. Demetrius rather liked that
scowl, as he guessed the reason, and took it as a
tribute to his fascinations. If he had known Lady
Jim's real intentions, and that she intended to convert


;6 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
English rather than French fiction into everyday facte,
he might not have smiled so victoriously over his
coffee. But Demetrius made the fatal mistake of so
many clever men: he knew he was clever, and thereby
was not what he fancied himself to be. The true secret
of success lies, not in knowing how clever oneself is,
but how stupid other people are.
While Jim was growling over his proverder, Miss
Tallentire, who hud finished her breakfast, slipped out
of the room. She felt strange in the company of the
frumps and fashionables which formed the house party.
Certainly the frumps were eating in private, and would
not appear till the world was well-airid, and they
had been "made-up" sufficiently well to prevent the
younger generation being shocked. But the fashionable
people came to breakfast in public, and Joan found
the talk far above her comprehension. These languid
creatures, who ate so little and talked so much, were
like inhabitants of a strange planet, and it was with
great relief that the girl found herself passed over.
Of course, nobody thought of noticing Cinderella in
her rags.
As Lady Canvey was being rehabilitated by a skilful
maid, and would not be seen as the world knew her
for at least two hours, Joan had this time to herself.
The brightness of the day tempted her to assume hat
and jacket for a morning walk, and she was shortly
tripping over the crisp snow of the avenue. The
glorious sunshine, the keen air, the dazzling whiteness
of the snow, and the generally invigorating influence
of this ideal winter morning stirred the current of her
blood to nimbleness. Joan began to sing softly, and
could hardly keep from dancing, so rapidly did her


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 77
spirits mount skyward. At length, the place being
solitary and she being recklessly young, a sudden
impulse sent her flying like p.n arrow between the grim
firs. Near the gates she shot directly into the arms
of a man, and uttered an ejaculation. This was hardly
to be wondered at, st eing that tho arms closed tightly
round her, and a pair of warm lips deepened the colour
which exercise had brought to hor cheeks.
"Lionel!" cried Joan; and "Darling!" replied
Lionel, which sufficiently explains the feeling which
existed between Lady Uanvey's companion and Lady
Canvey's pet.
These two babies, as the old lady called them, had
been, engaged for six months, but the fact was not
generally knov.n. The clerical parent of Joan had
given his consent, on the understanding that Lionel
was to possess a better income and the best vicarage
obtainable before he made Joan Mrs. Kaimes. The
young man had agreed readily enough, as he did not
want to inflict his comparative penury, and poor lodging*,
on the girl he so dearly loved. Joan and he had
decided to wait for two yea. s, and during that time
Lionel was to reform Lambeth. He was attempting
to do this with all the vigour of his energetic nature,
and between times made love to Joan. Lady Canvey
knew of the engagement, and would have had the
couple married at once, since she could easily have
given Lionel a living, and wished to do so. But the
curate was anxious to become the vicar of Firmingham.
The present incumbent was seriously ill, and in the
event of death the Duke had promised that Lionel
should fill the pulpit.
Therefore the lovers waited very happily, and if


78 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Firmingham did not come to them within the decreed two
years, they were quite prepared to marry on the bread
and cheese of a hard London life. Meantime, Joan
was seeing a trifle of West End life under Lady Canvey's
wing, and her earnings, as Lady Canvey's companion,
were most acceptable to the hard-worked Mr. Tallentire
and his wife. Thus it was that Joan returned Lionel's
kiss, and only released herself from his loving arms
when she remembered they were within sight of the
lodge.
"Lionel, how can you?" she said, setting her hat
straight.
"How can't I, you mean," he replied, smiling; "do
you think I am as cold as the snow 1"
"I don't know if you're as nice," pouted Joan, "or
you would have asked me to walk with you this
morning."
"No, dear," he said, gravely: "I could not have
taken you to see Harold Garth. The poor fellow is
too ill. But we can walk now. I have nothing to do,
and—Joan, where are you going?"
"Back to the house. I won't be taken for a walk
on nothing-to-do terms."
"You silly child!"
"You cruel boy!"
Then they kissed and made it up in full view of
a red-breast, who cocked his head on one side and
wondered why these human beings looked so pleased.
Joan said "Shoo!" and he flew away to tell his wife,
while the couple walked sedately through the gates,
and into a world which their love created for them-
selves alone.
All the same, their conversation was a trifle prosaic


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 79
They read a letter which Joan had received from her
mother about trouble over the Christmas gifts to the
poor of the parish, and discussed this old woman who
lived in a chilly garret, and that old man who dwelt
like a troglodyte in a damp cellar, till the conversation
became as sober as the looks of the village sexton whom
they met. And he was a teetotaller.
But however enthusiastic human nature may be in
the talking and doing of good works, love after all
takes precedence of philanthropy, and shortly they
began discussing themselves and their happiness. What
they said does not matter much. Although foolish, it
was sweet to them, and Joan's eyes sparkled like the
icicles on the bleak hedge-rows at the looks her lover
gave her. They walked in the pleasant Land of
Tenderness, and down the by-lane of First Love. Joan
had never seen the old French chart of that country,
with its quaint names and odd geography, but neither
Lionel nor herself needed its guidance. They had
skimmed through the country before, and knew the
lie of it extremely well.
The pair soared pretty nearly to the gates of their
transcendental heaven, until the strain became too
great for mere human effort, and they folded their
wings of thought to drop earthward. That unfailing
timepiece, the human interior, announced the hour
of luncheon, and with some haste they turned home-
ward.
"I am hungry," said Lionel, ogreishly.
"Don't eat me," laughed Miss Tallentire; "you look
as though you could!"
"You be Bed Bidinghood and I the wolf," suggested
Lionel.


8o LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"No. Do be serious, Lionel! I want you to tell me
about this poor man you saw."
"Garth? Ah, he'll never see another Christmas.
Consumption is wasting him to a shadow. In another
three or four months "Lionel broke off with a sigh,
"Poor man I"
"Can't anything be done?" asked Joan, sym-
pathetically.
"Everything possible is being done, Joan. The Duke
is looking after Garth in every way—you know how
kind he is. He even sent Demetrius to cure him, and
if Demetrius can't, no one else can."
"But if he was taken to a warmer climate"
"The end would only be retarded for a few months,"
interrupted the curate. "Demetrius says there is no
hope. And I don't think the poor fellow is sorry to go,
Joan. He has no relatives, and few friends. I fancy
he has had a lonely life."
The tears filled Joan's brown eyes. "Poor fellow!"
she echoed, stealing one hand into that of her lover's.
"Fancy, if we"
"I can't fancy it with you by my side. And what
is more, I don't intend to fancy it," said Lionel, hastily.
"Please God, you and I have many happy and useful
years before us. How do you like the Firmingham
vicarage, Joan?"
"Oh, it's lovely, and such a sweet church. But I fear
it's too good to be true."
"Perhaps it's not what you want," joked the curate.
"If I were the Duke, now!"
"Ah, that's impossible," she laughed, amused at the
idea of being a duchess; "the very idea frightens me."
"It needn't," Lionel assured her: "you will never


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 81
be called upon to wear strawberry leaves, unless the
Duke and Frith and Jim all go the way poor Garth
is taking. And then Frith's wife may have a little
Lord Firmingham. I sincerely hope so, as it would
never do for Jim to be the Duke of Pentland."
"You don't like him?"
"Not passionately," said the curate, dryly.
"His wife would make a splendid duchess."
"In looks, I have no doubt. But with fifty thousand
a year and a great position, she and Jim would do
good to neither God nor man."
"Lady James Kaimes seems very kind," observed
Joan, timidly.
"It's all seeming. Of real, true, self-sacrificing kind-
ness she knows absolutely nothing."
"But she is so beautiful, Lionel."
"So was Jezebel, I expect."
"Oh, Lionel!"
"Oh, Joan !" he mimicked. "Don't worry your head
over Lady Jim. She will always get on well in this
world, though I am very doubtful about her position
in the next. Come," he pointed down the incline of
the lane, "I'll race you to the bottom."
"We might meet some one."
"I don't care—-I'm out for a holiday "; and away
flew Lionel down the snowy lane, with his clerical coat-
tails fluttering in the wind.
Joan, girlish and simple and extremely young, sped
after him, and with rosy cheeks arrived at the goal
before her lover.
"Come," said the curate, wiping his heated brow, " con-
sidering I won three flat races at the 'varsity, that's
not bad, Joan."
6


82 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"You humbug, as if I didn't see that you let me
win."
"I'll be a tyrant after marriage," said Lionel, merrily.
"Enjoy your little day, my love!"
"I am enjoying this day," said Joan, as they walked
rapidly towards the park gates; "but what will Lady
Canvey say?"
"Pooh! What does it matter? She was young
herself a century ago."
"She's a dear old woman."
"No," contradicted Lionel, critically; "she is old and
clever, but I should not call her a dear. That word
suits some one else."
"Me," cried Joan, triumphantly.
"How clever of you to guess that! Hulloa, who
is this?"
The gates were opened and a sledge issued, drawn
by two black ponies. In it sat Lady Jim, who was
driving, and Dr. Constantine Demetrius.
"What is she up to now?" Lionel asked himself.
He was intensely di-trustful of Lady Jim, but he did
no* »xplain this V *oan.


CHAPTER VII
The sledge occupied by this well-matched couple might
have been used by Pompadour, in the days when the
finances of France were melting in the furnace of
Versailles. The basketwork body of a swan, gilded
and painted and elegantly fragile, rested delicately
on slim steel runners, and glided over the frozen snow
in the rear of two spirited black ponies. These, har-
nessed in the Russian fashion, with a paucity of
trappings and many tiny silver bells, sprang forward,
under Lady Jim's skilful guidance, as though they were
rioting in a spring meadow. She and her companion
were snugly wrapped in an opossum rug, which Leah,
rather vulgarly, despised as a cheap article. Her
mink cloak, with the snowy ermine scarf drawn through
the shoulder cape in the latest fashion, had cost nearly
ten times the amount, and Leah wore it with the
proud consciousness that she owed no money for it.
It was an early-winter present from Lady Frith, and
she had accepted it on the generous ground that its
cut and rich brown colour became her better than
they would have suited the dowdy, insignificant Mar-
chioness. But the little woman never knew that Lady
Jim's good-nature had prevailed to this extent. She
had thought to give Leah pleasure.
Demetrius, muffled in Muscovite sables, sat con-
tentedly by this Tauric Diana, wondering why he
83


84 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
had been graciously invited to drive with the goddess,
after a hurried luncheon. The two were tete-a-tete,
for the groom had been dispensed with as out of
keeping with the novel vehicle. The excuse was
artistic. Nevertheless, Demetrius suspected other reasons
for the absence of an eavesdropping servant. What
these might be he hoped to hear from Lady Jim.
But as yet she showed no disposition to speak
frankly, for the Russian, in Jim's picturesque speech,
was a gentleman to be handled "with the gloves on."
Jim himself had impressed this on ]>ah, before he
sat down to spell out Tim Woman in White. Needless
tc say, this unusual effort to improve what Jim was
pleased tc term his mind bored him extremely.
"Not a word about racin'," grumbled Jim, skipping
page after page. Still, iis Leah pointed out the necessity
of poaching on the domain of fiction, Jim sat at his
lesson like a good little boy, and his wife drove out
with her proposed victim. That the irony of fate might
change the victim into a possible tyrant did not occur
to Leah at the moment.
All the same, she was careful not to commit herself
too hastily, and for two miles talked soci 'ty-journal
paragraphs with an assiduity at once boring and
perplexing tc Demetrius. Even when the sledge
slipped, silent and ghost-like, over an Arctic waste,
and they were alone to babble secrets to a frosty
sky, Leah showed no disposition to come to the point.
She wished Di metrius to question her, and then, by
seeing into his mind, she could be guided as to the
most Si Itishly-successful way of making up her own.
but the doctor guessed her reason for this diplomatic
silence, and knowing what a shameless capacity she


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 85
had for word-twisting and for slipping out of untenable
positions, he gave her no opportunity to overlook his
hand. It was certainly, as he reflected, a game of skill,
but what the precise style of game might be Demetrius
could not guess. However, one thing was certain; this
game, like all others, was being played for money. On
Lady Jim's part, that is. Demetrius shuffled his cards
for the stake of love, and so, having Leah Kaimes
for an antagonist, lost at the outset. A game between
a man and a woman, on amatory grounds, is always
unequal. The one in earnest invariably loses.
"Does this remind you of the steppes )" asked Leah,
waving her whip towards a desert of snow and ice. The
polite conversation was still much in evidence.
"Somewhat, madame; but I cannot remember
sledging across any steppe in such charming com-
pany."
"Ah! You have never driven Mademoiselle Aksakoff,
then?"
"It is a pleasure yet to come."
"In Russia?"
"Why not? She may induce her father to make my
peace with the Czar."
"You would be pleased?"
Demetrius shrugged his spare shoulders, and replied
in the evasive manner which characterised this con-
versation on the part of both.
"I am well content with England," he remarked
calmly. "Many people are pleasant, and all agreeable.
Also, the Duke pays me well—too well, considering he
is my solitary patient."
"I never kuew a physician to quarrel with his fees
before," laughed Lady Jim, flicking the ponies lightly;


86 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"and you have another patient, I understand—-Mr
Kaimes said something about it."
"The young priest—ah, yes. He was at the gates
with that most adorable young lady, whom I presume
he will marry. Your Anglican priests, like our Greek
popes, have that freedom, have they noti"
"You do not answer my question."
"Ah, pardon, madame," said the doctor, with an
apologetic smile and his hands palm to palm. "Yes—it
is so. I have another patient, a peasant—one Harold
Garth," he pronounced the name uncommonly clearly.
"How well you speak English, Monsieur Demeti ius!
So many foreigners over-emphasise their 'h's', and slur
their 'r's.'"
"We Russians have a capacity for tongues. I know
five languages."
"Can you tell the truth in any one of them?" asked
Lady Jim, rather rudely; but then she wished to make
him lose his temper, in the hope of breaking down his
reserve. But love had not yet blinded Demetrius, and
he became offensively gentle.
"To you, madame, T always speak the truth."
'* I take you at your word," said Lady Jim, smartly.
"Why did you leave Russia, Monsieur Demetrius?"
"Madame, I come of a princely family, but for the
sake of humanity I practised my profession in Moscow.
A dear friend of mine foolishly joined the Anarchists,
and an order was issued for his arrest. Fortunately,
the official who signed the warrant was my patient, and
I chanced to be with him when the paper was brought
for his signature. He laid it aside for the moment, and
I saw my friend's name. I therefore gave my patient
a drug, which made him sleep for twenty-four hours, so


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 87
that he could not sign. Meanwhile, my friend escaped
—it matters not how—but he escaped, with my help.
Through a rival doctor, my use of the drug to aid my
friend became known, and I was accused of conspiring
also. The governor of Moscow was enraged, and
ordered my arrest in my friend's place. The prospect
of Siberia was not pleasant, so I crossed the frontier
after many delightful adventures, with the recital of
which I shall not trouble you. Behold me, therefore,
in your free country, madame, no longer a subject of
the Czar, but your devoted slave."
He told the story, without preamble or excuse, in an
unemotional and level voice, though all the time he
wondered why Lady Jim desired to hear it. She gave
him no explanation. "And if you go back to Russia t"
she asked carelessly.
"I fear I shall never go back, madame."
"Who knows? Mademoiselle Aksakoff might"
"Precisely, madame. She might, and, with small
encouragement, she would. But her gaining of my
pardon would assuredly lead to a marriage of grati-
tude."
"That would be no sacrifice."
"To many—no. To myself—madame, it is im-
possible!"
"Can yon not make your peace without her in-
fluence ?*
"Alas, no, madame. The Grand Duke was furious
at my share in my friend's escape. He would give
much to capture me, and should I set foot on the
Continent"—he shrugged his shoulders significantly;
"but the Third Section has no power in your land
of liberty."


88 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"The Third Section?"
"If it pleases madame better, the secret police. No;
unless I marry Mademoiselle Aksakoff, of whom I
admit my unworthiness, I must remain in exile—but
it has many compensations," he added, bowing his head
courteously to Lady Jim's profile.
"Quite so," she assented, scarcely heeding the com-
pliment; then added thoughtfully, "You are a daring
man, Monsieur Demetrius."
"Daring, when necessary, madame. But I confess
to a love of ease."
Leah swung her ponies round a curve with care-
less dexterity. "It is not probable that any one
will invite you to leave your lotus-eating, monsieur.
Thank you for the story."
"It is at your service, madame."
Lady Jim hesitated. "You do not ask me why
I requested you to relate it," she said at last.
"Your wish is a command. A command is never
questioned."
"I might wish you to do something that you might
question."
"Ah, no—believe me!"
"Don't jump in the dark," said Leah, with a hard
little laugh; "by the way, this woman, for whom you
ventured so much"
"It was a man, madame."
"David and Jonathan in Crim Tartary, I suppose.
They say," she gave a conscious laugh, "that a man
would venture farther for a woman than for one of
his own sex. You, I resume, are an exception."
"Madame, one does some things for friendship, but
all things for love."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 89
Leah glanced at the pale face beside her with a
smile, and saw that the dark eyes were full of fire,
"You are iomantic."
"As is every man, when he loves, madame."
"I understand—Mademoiselle AksakotY."
"You penetrate my thoughts admirably.'1
Lady Jim relieved her feelings by Uoing the whip
on the obedient ponies. Demetrius was clever and
suspicious; also, as his story assured her, he was
daring, clear-headed, and might be dangerous. If she
gave this man a hold over her, ho might be, and
probably would be, unscrupulous enough to use his
power. Moreover, Lionel had not yet asked the Duke,
and there was always the chance that the money
could be obtained without the necessity of plotting.
Leah had taken the doctor for this delightful drive
with the intention of speaking plainly; but his skilful
use of words made her cautious. She was too clever
a woman to build her tower without reckoning the
expense.
Demetrius watched her with keen, questioning eyes
and a perfectly impassive face, but he learned nothing.
Lady Jim was quite as Oriental as himself in masking
her emotions. Nevertheless, he gues,sed that the interest
displayed in his past involved more than the satisfying
of an idle curiosity. She wanted money—he was certain
of that. But unless she intended to sell him to the
Third Section, he could not conceive why she had
forced his confidence. The enigma irritated him, though
he paid a silent tribute to the diplomatic powers of
this charming Englishwoman. But, cool and cautious
as he was, her next speech nearly reduced him to the
necessity of speaking plainly, although he regarded


go LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
candour as a greater sin than making love to another
man's wife.
"Now we'll drive home," said Leah, briskly.
* Ah, but no, madame. This is charming."
"And chilly. I am not a Russian, to revel in snow
and ice."
"Madame, the fire in our veins prevents our feeling
the disagreeables of nature. I am no phlegmatic
Englishman."
"How interesting," said Leah, indifferently. "I
wonder if the cattle will face this snowstorm."
They were driving straight into a chaos of eddying
flakes, and meeting the sting of bitter sleet dashed in
their blinking eyes by the wind. Demetrius bit his
lips, and suppressed his fiery nature with an effort
due to years of training. He could have killed this
woman with her contemptuous indifference and impreg-
nable self-possession. As the ponies plunged, with tossing
heads and jingling bells, into that Arctic hurricane,
he wished that the sledge would overturn, so that he
might extort a word of gratitude by saving her life.
But Leah's courage was as high as his own, and her
strength greater, so it was quite probable that she
would be able to look after herself. All he could do
was to unflinchingly face the volleying snow, while Lady
Jim dashed through the hostile elements like Semiramis
in her war-chariot. With a turn of her wrist she
prevented the frightened ponies dashing into a thorny
hedge, with another turn swung the light vehicle away
from a dangerous ditch, and then lashed the animals
into a headlong gallop, which ended only when they
trembled, with smoking flanks and drooping heads,
before the Firmingham porch. And throughout that


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 91
furious, rocking, blinding drive Demetrius sat grimly'
silent. Lady Jim was disappointed. It would have
been more courageous and amusing had he made love
to her in the jaws of death.
"Quite a Russian adventure," she said, tossing the
reins to a groom, and jumped out, all colour and
animation. "I hope you were not afraid, Monsieur
"Demetrius," she added unjustly.
"For you,' he replied significantly.
With a rosy face and a display of white teeth, Leah
faced him on the steps. "There was no need, I assure
vou. I can look after myself in every way."
"I can believe that, madame."
"Then why talk nonsense?"
"To amuse you."
"My good man, I don't want amusement, but help."
Demetrius started forward, impulsively. "Command
me."
Lady Jim flung her wraps, her whip, her mink cape,
and her gloves into his arms. "Thanks," she said
carelessly, and turned towards the library, leaving her
illegal admirer pale with rage.
She stopped laughing at the remembrance of his
wrath when she saw Lionel studying a book near the
window. "Well?" she asked, coming lightly towards
him: "any news?"
"Yes; I have seen the Duke!"
"And he—and he "her voice died away under
stress of emotion.
"He will help you!"
Leah's first feeling was one of relief, and she was
almost on the point of expressing gratitude, but a sudden
remembrance that aid from the Duke meant the


92 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
retention of Jim as a most undesirable husband, cooled
the warm impulse. She recovered her self-command,
and was about to go into figures, when Mrs. Penworthy
with a noisy party bustled into the room, looking rather
tousled and flushed.
"We have been playing 'Hunt the Slipper,"' she
announced, in her high, thin voice, "and Algy found
mine three times."
Lady Jim, annoyed at the irruption, glanced at Mrs.
Penworthy's feet, which could scarcely have worn the
slippers of Cinderella. "I can quite believe that," she
said sweetly, and left the room smiling.
"What does she mean ?" asked Algy, obtusely.
Mrs. Penworthy knew perfectly well what was meant,
but was too feminine to explain, save in a way calculated
to mislead her courtier. This could be done by arousing
his egotism.
"She means that you are clever to play the game so
well," was her explanation. "I rather think Lady Jim
admires you, Algy."
The youth fondled what he called a moustache.
"Pippin' woman, Lady Jim," said he, taking the speech
literally.
"Go and tell her so," snapped Mrs. Penworthy,
colouring angrily.
"You wouldn't like it."
"Nothing would give me greater pleasure," remarked
the lady, fervently hating him for his stupidity, "than
to see her dancing on you, as she does on all men who
are foolish enough to make themselves carpets."
"I'm not a carpet."
"No! You're a tame cat."
"Then come and play Puss in the Comer," urged


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 93
Algy, gaily, and Mrs. Pen-worthy consented, as this
game had nothing to do with abnormal slippers.
Leah, pleased at having snubbed Mrs. Penworthy,
whom she considered quite an improper person, went
to*look for Jim in his room. He was there, sure enough,
lying on the sofa with the novel tossed carelessly on
the floor, and a black pipe between his lips. Evidently
he had not heard the good news.
"Jim," cried Leah, breathlessly, "the Duke will
part."
"He has parted," growled Jim, swinging his long
legs on to the floor and producing a cheque. "Look at
that."
Lady Jim did. It was for two hundred pounds.
"Oh !" She crushed it in her two hands, as though she
were throttling his Grace. "What an insult I"


CHAPTER VIII
Two hundred pounds. Lady Jim rapidly ran over in
her mind such of the most pressing liabilities as she
could recollect, and shuddered at a total of two
thousand. They owed that, and many other debts
which, for the moment, escaped her memory. So far
as she could see, nothing remained but a compulsory
journey through the court. Not that she really
minded bankruptcy. Plenty of people, accepted as
immaculate by society, made use of that desirable
institution to get a receipt for past extravagances, on
the plea of having lived beyond their incomes. She
and Jim could make the same excuse with perfect
truth, and would doubtless be enabled to make a fresh
start. And if a few tradesmen were ruined, what did
it matter? They always overcharged, and it might be
a lesson to them not to worry customers.
No; the bankruptcy court matters very little, but
the want of ready cash mattered a great deal. Leah
cared nothing about paying the bills, but ardently
desired to have a re-filled purse and no bother about
such vulgar things as pounds, shillings, and pence. It
was perfectly idiotic of the Duke to be so stingy. If
he had come down with a thousand, she and Jim could
have enjoyed themselves abroad for a couple of months,
and meanwhile, he could have paid these troublesome
94


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 95
tradesmen. But two hundred pounds! Did the old
fool take them for the respectable middle-class couple,
living in slate-roofed houses, to which she had alludedI
Without Jim's assistance she could get rid of that
trifle in a fortnight.
"I believe your father's brain is softening," she com-
plained crossly.
"I'm not responsible for his crazy arithmetic,"
retorted Jim, with the helpful addition of a few ad-
jectives.
But, beyond swearing as much as he dared in her
presence, Jim could offer no assistance, and Leah con-
cluded that, after all, it might be necessary to trust
Demetrius. Her husband, having gained some faint
idea of the novel, had ended in declining to turn fiction
into fact. His remarks were not without shrewdness.
"The chap who writes the story knows what's goin'
to happen," said Jim, when pressed for his opinion,
"an' can invent circumstances to dodge results. But if
we start a yarn of this kind on our own, we don't
know what the end 'ull be."
"Oh yes!" protested Leah, very patiently, con-
sidering she disagreed entirely; "you'll disappear, and
I shall become a widow with my share of the
twenty thousand."
"An' how long will your share last?" asked Jim,
derisively.
"That depends upon my mood. Some time, I expect,
seeing that your death will force me into retirement,
and crape is not so very expensive. And when you
get through your lot, Jim, what will you do?"
"That's what I'm askin' you," said Jim, evasively;
and continued hurriedly, lest she should insist upon a


96 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
disagreeable explanation, "'Sides, there's my father to
be considered."
"Since when have you taken him to your heart?"
"Oh, it's all very well talkin'. But your father's
your father, when all's said an' done. The Duke
doesn't think me a saint, but he'd be sorry to see me
die."
"No one wants you to die," she said impatiently.
"That's bunkum, an'—an'—what's the word?"
"Might I suggest 'sophistry '?" said Lady Jim, quite
aware that her reasoning was fallacious.
"Oh, you'll suggest anythin' to get your own way.
But what I mean is that, though I do die, I don't
really die."
"How clearly you put things, Jim. Please yourself.
We must go back to town with this money, to be
whitewashed "; and eyeing the cheque contemptuously,
she saw that it was unfortunately made payable to
Jim. Her husband stretched for the cheque and slipped
it into his waistcoat pocket.
"I'm goin' to see the Duke m'self," he announced,
"an' tell him everythin'."
"What, about the money we've raised on the
income?"
"Every blessed thing," said Kaimes, doggedly; "he's
my father, an' it's his duty to square things."
"He mightn't follow your reasoning," murmured
Leah, with one hand on the mantelpiece and the other
holding up her skirts to warm one foot. "But you can't
make a much worse mess of it than Lionel has made.
Two hundred pounds—he must have thought he was
asking money for some old woman. Shall I come with
you, Jim?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 97
"No." He halted at the door to deliver himself of the
remark, "You're like a red rag to a bull."
"Oh, very well. I only thought you'd like me to
translate your talk into something resembling English."
"Don't you fret yourself, I'll make him understand.
An' if I do get things squared," cried Jim, warming at
the thought of his heroism in facing an angry parent,
"you'll have to drop spending money, an' live as other
women do."
"Yes, dear James, and you'll live as other men do,
won't youf"
"I'll do what I jolly well please. An' why James?"
"There never was a St. Jim, that I ever heard of,"
mused Leah, turning pensive eyes on her exasperated
husband, "and as you wish to canonise yourself, of
course you must change your name. Yes, James"—
she moved swiftly towards him, and detained him
gently by the lapels of his coat—" from this time
forth we'll live in holy matrimony, and pig it on
what's left of the income. Curzon Street given up,
Bayswater remains, and there, James darling, we'll
live a life of extremely plain living and high
thinking."
"Don't talk bosh," growled Jim, trying to escape;
but she held on.
"No, James, I won't, if you will only raise my intellect
to the level of your own. And think what a delightful
existence it will be, James. A cheap Bayswater
dungeon, with three servants and the shopping done at
Whiteley's. I'll turn my dresses and trim my hats and
you'll give up your clubs, to curse in a stuffy drawing-
room while you play bezique with your dear wife, till
we go to bed at ten. No more betting on Podaskas,
7


98 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
James; no more whist-drives, or bridge, or any such
expensive naughtinesses. And how nice it will be for
you, James, to flirt with those earnestly-fashionable sub-
urban girls, who are just half an hour behind the times,
and who "Here Jim rent his garments from Leah's
grasp, and departed in haste with an impolite word.
His wife's humour did not appeal to him in the least,
and he banged the door unnecessarily hard.
Leah returned to warm her toes and laugh till she
cried. There was something excessively amusing in the
idea of Jim setting up for a plaster saint. For once in
his dull life he displayed a sense of humour, and she
picked up the discarded novel with a fresh burst of
laughter at the picture of the Bayswater menage, as
drawn by her fertile fancy. Jim as a middle-class
Philistine tickled her even more than Jim in a stained-
glass attitude, with an artificial halo misfitting his
empty head.
But a remembrance of the cheque—payable to Jim—
and of her husband's possible position at the moment,
telling clumsy truths to an aggrieved father, made hoi
serious. Certainly the Duke, pleased to hear his son
speak honestly for once in a life of consistent fibbing,
might shed tears over a hastily-produced cheque-book.
Jim's falsehoods, in times of pressing need, were almost
inspired, and it was not impossible that he might
return with the loot. Then, the tradespeople being
paid, Leah decided that she could run up fresh bills t i
any amount: they would be all the more eager to give
her unlimited credit when they knew that the Duke
was in the background. Decidedly the prospect wtts
not so bad, and, after all, it might be dangerous to make
real-life experiments in sensational fiction.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 99
These common-sense reflections led Lady Jim to
thank the watchful fetish for governing her tongue
during the afternoon. Demetrius could be nasty when
he liked. She was certain of that, and it was just as
well to give him no chance. Some people carried
tyranny to a ridiculous excess, and liked to hear their
victims squeal unmeaningly. Leah did not belong to
the squealing species, and vowed a vow that Demetrius
should never have an opportunity of provoking such
futile outcries. As a gleam of good sense warned her
of possible danger, she decided to avoid the Russian, or
only to flirt sufficiently to make him miserable and
Jim cross.
Having settled the question in this sensible way,
Leah sought her room to dress for the five o'clock
muffin scramble. She assumed the prettiest tea-gown
she possessed, for the truly feminine purpose of irritating
Demetrius into over-estimating what he had lost.
Descending like a Homeric deity in a cloud—of lace—
she went at once to the library, and restored to its
place the text-book of her proposed fraud. Fortunately,
the room was empty, so no one would ever know that
the novel had been read with a view to plagiarism.
Not that it mattered much now, since Jim was proceeding
on the lines of "Honesty is the best policy." Leah
hoped fervently that he would succeed, but felt more
than a trifle doubtful. Jim was so new to this straight-
forward method of gaining his ends.
The house-party was picnicking in the winter-garden,
a delightful Eden, where tropical plants flourished in
defiance of the season. On its glass roof the hail
rattled like small shot, and through its glass walls
could be seen the bleak, wintry landscape, faintly white


ioo LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
in the deepening gloom. These glimpses of the un-
pleasant increased the sense of comfort, and over-
civilised humanity luxuriated in the warm atmosphere,
as independent of nature's laws as the palm-trees under
which it ate and drank and talked scandal. The
frumps nibbled dry toast and sipped milk; the fashion-
ables devoured dainty sandwiches and enjoyed the
strongest of tea, and both aided digestion with chatter
and laughter. It was the complacent contentment of
animals, mumbling a plentiful meal, and for the moment
all spiritual instincts were governed by material needs.
Mrs. Penworthy's courtiers were feeding their queen,
who had a large appetite for so small a woman.
After a full meal she was disposed to be amiable, even
to Freddy, had he been there; but she became decidedly
cross when some of the court deserted her for "that
woman," as she termed Lady Jim. Leah was feminine
enough to enjoy the fallen expression on Mrs. Pen-
worthy's face, and accepted with marked pleasure the
attentions of those who crowded round her. The sight
gave Mrs. Penworthy a fit of indigestion, which pre-
vented her enjoying a late dinner. It was hard that
her vanity had to content itself with the banal com-
pliments of the faithful Algy, who tried to be a host
in himself, and was snubbed for his ambition.
"May I present my nephew to you?" asked Lord
Sargon, in his thin, precise voice.
Leah intimated that she would be charmed, and found
herself nodding to a slim, dark young man, clean-shaven
and alert. He looked more alive than the languid
youths around her, and she was not surprised when
Sargon explained that Mr. Askew was a naval officer,
who had lately returned from a five years' cruise.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 101
"I thought you hadn't been wrapped up in cotton
wool all your life," said Lady Jim, when Sargon had
removed the attendant youths and the lieutenant was
making himself agreeable in a bluff, briny way.
"Do I look so uncivilised?" he asked, with laughing
eyes.
"Highly. You are the nearest approach to pre-
historic man I have yet seen," said she, and thus was
'unjust to Jim.
"I am sorry"
"Oh, there's no need to apologise. I daresay Circe
found Ulysses very agreeable."
"Homer says so," answered Askew, who appeared to
be well read; "but if I am Ulysses, you must be Circe."
"I accept the compliment!"
"Is it a compliment?" asked the pre-historic man,
daringly.
"Unless meant for one it should not have been said."
"Beg pardon. I'm several kii da of ass. But I did
mean it civilly, you know. Circe was a clever woman,
whose magic turned men into outward semblances of
their real characters."
Lady Jim smiled scornfully. "And if my magic
could transform these," she glanced disparagingly round
the place, "what a menagerie it would be! Pigs, and
snakes, and parrots, and"
"Dogs."
"Of the mongrel kind, Mr. Askew. Do you speak
of yourself?"
He nodded laughingly. "Dogs are so devoted!"
"That means you wish to attach yourself to me,"
said Leah, gravely. "I might take you at your word
—I need a friend; but Ulysses deserted Circe."


102 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Askew laughed, and gazed admiringly at her beautiful,
pensive face. "We talk parables, I think," he said,
with assumed lightness.
"Pre-historic man always did, I understand/'
"On the contrary, his speech was direct and blunt!"
"Mine will be now," smiled Lady Jim. "This cup
has been empty for five minutes, and you never offered
to"
The young man took the tiny cup hastily. "But
for the publicity of the place, I would ask you to tread
upon my prostrate body."
Leah eyed his lithe, active figure as he went to the
bamboo table presided over by Lady Frith. He was
really a delightful sailorman, she reflected, and quicker
than most of his sex to understand the unspoken. It
might be more amusing to drop Demetrius and flirt
with him. But then, his face was too honest, and he
might object to being made use of.
"Men of that kind are so dreadfully in earnest,"
sighed Leah, with a sense of irritation; "they think
a woman always means what she says."
Askew walked lightly over the mosaic floor with a
fresh cup of tea and a plate of hot cakes. Some man
bustled in his way, and he stopped to avoid an upset
of his burden. At the moment, he glanced towards
the Moorish door which admitted triflers into the
winter paradise. To Lady Jim's wonderment, he
started, and a look of surprise overspread his expressive
face. Her eyes turned at once in the direction of the
entrance, and she beheld Jim blinking his eyes at the
dazzle of light. He looked heavy and sullen, which
hinted that the interview with the Duke had not been
successful. But Leah forgot that momentous question


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 103
for the moment, as her quick brain was trying to
understand Askew's look of surprise. Before she could
ask herself what he could possibly know about Jim,
he approached with the tea.
"This is nice and hot," he said, placing the plate
on the table at her elbow and offering the cup. "I
hope you'll forgive me for neglecting you."
"On one condition," replied Leah, stirring her tea.
"Consider it fulfilled," was the impetuous answer.
"Why did you look surprised when you saw that
gentleman at the door?"
Leah pointedly suppressed the fact that Kaimes was
her husband, as, if there was anything, she would learn
it the more easily by pretending that Jim was a
stranger. In fact, should Askew learn that the man
who had startled him was her lawful lord, he might
decline to open his lips. The lieutenant's next words
proved the wisdom of her concealment.
"Oh, Berring," he said, carelessly. "Well, I was
surprised to see Berring so unexpectedly."
"Is his name Berring 1" asked Lady Jim, guessing
that she was about to learn something connected with
Jim's very shady past.
"Yes; I met him in Lima."
"Lima?"
"In Peru, and that's.in South America."
Leah nodded. "I did learn geography at school,"
she said, setting down her empty cup; and when Askew
coloured at the implied snub, softened it by asking
a friendly question: "You are surprised at meeting
Mr.—er—er—Berring, here?"
"Yes; I said so before. A nice sort of chap, but
selfish."


104 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"What a reader of character you are, Mr. Askew!"
He looked up eagerly. "You know him, then."
"A little. Why do you ask?"
The young man stared at the ground, and replied
in muffled tones: "I thought you might have met
his wife."
"Mrs. Berringf"
««Of course."
Leah began to laugh. The idea that Jim might be
a bigamist had never struck her before. She had
guessed that there was a woman connected with those
frequent journeys to Lima, but that Jim had adopted
the Mo. mon religion was news. Some women would
have been angry, but Leah had no amatory feelings
likely to arouse jealousy, so she was frankly amused
at her husband's duplicity. Also, she was sorry for
Mrs. Berring, who perhaps was silly enough to love
Jim.
"Is she a nice woman?" was her next question,
"She's an angel."
"That means, you love her."
"How do you?"
"Because you are a brick wall I can see through,
Mr. Askew. No; I have never met Mrs. Berring.
Why did she throw you over and marry Mr.—er—
Berring?"
Askew looked quite alarmed. "I say you are
clever," he remarked.
"Why not? You called me Circe, and I must live
up to the name. Well?"
"Well!" echoed Askew, blankly, and their eyes met.
He coloured. "No, I can't tell you," he said quickly,
for he guessed her desire.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 105
"Yes, you can, and you will," rejoined Leah, com-
posedly.
Jim was bearing the artillery of Mrs. Pen-
worthy's eyes in his usual indifferent way, and
showed no disposition to seek out his wife. Probably
he would remain for the next hour in the clutches
of the little woman, who was the limpet to Jim's rock.
This being so, Leah began to ask questions which Askew
hesitated to answer.
"We hardly know one another," he murmured,
embarrassed. "I daren't tell you, Lady James."
"Ah! Then there's something improper in the
matter?"
Askew flushed through his bronzed skin. "Not at
all," he said in a brusque tone. "Sanorita Fajardo
is all that is good and holy and pure."
"What bread and butter!" thought Leah, wondering
if Jim had stumbled upon a convent. But she was too
wise to quote Byron to this young man, who apparently
was simple enough to regard love as something sacred.
"Fajardo," she repeated. "A Spanish name."
"And a Spanish lady," he said, gloomily. "Lola
Fajardo, of the Estancia, San Jago, near Bosario."
"I thought you said of Lima 1"
"No; I met her there. She is in the habit of
stopping at Lima with her aunt. But her true home
is at Bosario, in the Santa Fe province of the Argentine
republic. I wonder if Berring brought her to England.
She was madly in love with him."
"She must have been, to marry him."
"Oh, Berring's a good-looking chap, and not bad,"
said Askew, with the innate chivalry of a man 'towards
a successful rival. "I suppose they did marry, *


io6 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Oh! Then you are not certain?"
"No; I never even knew if they were engaged.
But when I joined my ship again at Callao, every one
eaid 'marriage'—they were so uncommonly thick. I
must ask Berring."
"I'm sure he'll be delighted to afford you the in-
formation you seek," was Lady Jim's ironical reply.
"Have you seen Mrs. Berring?" asked the young
man, eagerly.
"No; I don't think any Mrs. Berring is stopping
here."
"Then perhaps he did not marry Lola, after all,"
cried Askew, rising hastily, and with flashing eyes, "un-
less "—his voice fell—" she is dead."
Leah yawned. "Really, I don't know," she replied;
"you had better ask Mr. Berring. I see he is passing
out of the garden with Mrs. Penworthy."
"In that case I can't spoil sport," laughed the lieu-
tenant, with an obvious effort; "but later on."
"Later on, of course," she said, rising. "Here comes
your uncle."
Lord Sargon advanced, and, with an apologetic look
towards Leah, took Askew's arm. "I wish to present
you to Lady Canvey," he said.
The young man looked towards his charmer. "Will
you permit me to leave you for a time?"
"Certainly. You will find Lady Canvey delightful,
and as pre-historic as you can wish. We may meet after
dinner," and, with a nod, she left the winter garden
for the purpose of seeking solitude. She wanted to
think over Jim's iniquities, and to consider what use
might be made of them for her own benefit.
Lady Canvey was delighted to receive Askew, as she


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 107
liked handsome young men, especially when they were
deferential and attentive, as this new acquaintance
appeared to be. "Though I'm a bad substitute for
Lady Jim," she remarked pleasantly.
"Lady Jim?"
"That charming creature with whom you have been
talking."
"Yes, of course, Lady Canvey. She is indeed
charming."
"But private property. Her husband is the Duke's
second son, at present in the clutches of that little harpy,
Mrs. Penworthy. Don't you make love to Lady Jim,
or you'll burn your fingers. I mistrust red-haired
women, myself. But she and Jim match each other
capitally. Their marriage was made in heaven"; and
Lady Canvey chuckled.
"Is her husband here?" asked Askew, looking round,
anxious to see who owned Circe-of-the-many-wiles.
"No; he went out with Mrs. Penworthy a quarter
of an hour ago."
Askew remembered how Lady Jim had drawn his
attention to an out-going couple. "Didn't the lady
go out with a Mr. Berring?" he gasped.
"No; with Lord Jim Kaimes!"
"And she—his wife—the lady I "Askew stopped
with a groan.
"Try an unmarried woman," advised Lady Canvey,
misunderstanding his emotion. "It's more proper, and
less expensive."


CHAPTER IX
Keeping up the necessary Darby-and-Joan comedy,
Kaimes strolled into his wife's dressing-room half an
hour before dinner to inquire if she was ready. Leah
had a second-hand view of him in a full-length mirror
before which she posed, while her maid added a few
final touches to an eminently successful frock. From
the composed expression of his face she guessed that
he had not yet renewed his acquaintance with Mr.
Askew, and therefore must be ignorant that the free-
spoken sailor had let the cat out of the bag. Lady
Jim possessed the animal now, but she did not intend
to reveal her capture until Jim explained how he had
sped with the Duke. A slight nod towards the glass
showed her husband that she was aware of his presence,
and the maid continued to use experienced fingers.
But Leah looked so charming, that further trouble
in this way was like adding sugar to honey. Jim
stared approvingly, and, when the maid was dismissed,
saw his way to a compliment.
"You have the good points of several women rolled
into one, Leah," he said, with the look of a sultan
appraising an odalisque.
"That polite speech means much, coming from a
man of your experience, my dear Jim. What good poi i. t
of Mrs. Penworthy's have I annexed?"
108


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 109
"You're jealous!"
"Horribly I You are so deeply attached to that
bundle of faded chiffon."
"I don't care two straws for her."
"Appearances are misleading, then. But," added
Leah, remembering Askew's eulogy, "it may be that
you prefer something that's good and holy and pure."
"I don't know why you should say that," grumbled
Jim, annoyed at being credited with such primitive tastes.
"You may know before long," and she laughed at the
thought of the marine bomb-shell which would shortly
shatter Jim's complacency.
"I don't know what you're talkin' about," said
Kaimes, with unaffected surprise, "an' I'm confoundedly
hungry."
"Ah! Did the Duke's lecturo give you an appetite?"
"Leah!" Jim became so serious as to look almost
intelligent. "My father is the best man who ever
wore shoe-leather."
"He is usually condemned to cloth boots for gouty
feet," murmured Leah, patting the back of her head.
"So you've pulled the wool over his eyes again?"
"I wish you wouldn't use slang," protested Jim,
virtuously.
"I can't pretend to vie with Mrs. Penworthy's purity
of speech, my dear man. How much have you got out
of the Duke?"
"Well, he hasn't given me money"
"Oh!"
"But he's promised"
"Ah!"
"I wish you'd let me speak," cried Kaimes, testily.
"My father has promised to pay all the debts'


Iio LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Good heavens! Is he aware of the amount?"
"Wait, I've not finished. He'll pay the debts, and
reduce our income to a thousand a year till he recoups
himself."
"Really! I thought you had seen your father, and
not a money-lender. Have you accepted this most
generous offer?"
"Yes, I have," said Jim, sulkily, and kicking a mat
out of the way.
"I see. It's to be Bayswater after all, James."
"If you talk like that, I'll go down to dinner without
you."
"By all means. You've taken away my appetite."
She laughed in a way calculated to still further
infuriate Jim, who paced the room in a towering
passion. Nevertheless, she was seriously angry. Had
the Duke refused all help, it would have been more
decent; but this bargain, which was all on one side,
annoyed her beyond measure. What did the Duke
mean by taking their money?
"It seems to me we've got to pay our own debts,
then," she said, while Jim seethed like a whirl-
pool.
"An' why shouldn't we? It's only fair."
Leah stared, and began to think that Jim was too
good for this world.
"I hope you are not going to die," she said,
anxiously.
"Not in your way," cried Kaimes, misunderstanding
her, "we aren't going to have any bury in' alive or
substituted corpses, an' I'm goin' to hang on as a
respectable member of society."
u IH come and hear you preach, Jim."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET in
"I'm preachin' now," raged her husband, "an'don't
you make any mistake, Leah. I've told the Duke
every thin'."
"How injudicious! He might have had a fit."
"He didn't even blame me," said Jim, breaking down,
"an' there were tears in his eyes."
Leah laughed amazingly long and loud, considering
the tightness of her corset.
"I wish I had been present. Did you cry too,
Jim?"
"I jolly well nearly did," said Kaimrs, truthfully, if
ungrammatically, "though it's no good explainin' to an
icicle like you. But the pater's goin' to pay the debts,
free our income, an' let the Curzon Street house."
"Better and better. Then we do go to Bayswater?"
"He'll allow us one thousand a year till the debts
are wiped off," went on Kaimes hurriedly, and wishing
to get the explanation over, "an' we can go abroad for
a couple of years."
"You can. I shan't!"
"As my wife, you must."
"As an individual, I shan't," retorted Lady Jim,
calmly. She was getting over her rage now, as she
foresaw a very different interview between herself
and Jim before they retired for the night. "It is
very good of you to have settled all this without
consulting me. And now that you have done so, let
us go to dinner."
« But I"
"There's the gong," observed Leah, opening the door,
"and I don't like cold soup."
"You'll have to like lots of things now you didn't
like before," said Jim, as they went down.


U2 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"The selection doesn't include you, my good man,
so don't be disappointed."
Jim could have shaken her, and began to understand
why the lower orders indulged in wife-beating. But
as they were entering the drawing-room at this moment,
he had to play the part of a devoted husband. Leah
floated radiantly into the brilliantly lig'ited apartment,
and Jim sought out the oldest and ugliest woman he
could find. When he thought of his wife, beauty
sickened him for the time being. Thus it came about
that Miss Jaffray had the pleasure of shouting into
his ear throughout a long and wearisome dinner.
Whether it was the work of the fetish or of Lady
Frith, Leah did not know, but she found herself seated
at the table with Askew on her light hand.
The young man looked flustered, and ill at ease.
"I'm so sorry!" he began apologetically, and, as she
thought, tactlessly.
"That you're my neighbour ?" she interrupted sweetly.
"How unkind!"
"No! But I never knew he was your husband."
"Who! Mr. Berring?"
"Don't make it harder for me," he entreated softly.
"I've been calling myself names ever since we parted."
"You should have left that to me, Mr. Askew."
"There's nothing in it, you know," he stuttered,
heedlessly "Of course, she never married him."
"I hope not, for the sake of morality," said Lady
Jim, lightly, and thinking that the soup was worse than
usual. "However, it doesn't matter. My husband
is a modest man, and sometimes drops his title when
travelling. I daresay, as Mr. Berring, be thought he
was free to make love."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 113
"But he wasn't," protested Askew, with a glance
towards the unconscious Jim, who apparently had not
recognised him.
"You should tell him so."
"I intend to—in the smoking room."
Lady Jim looked at him imperiously, and softened
her voice to a very direct whisper. "Don't make
trouble," she said, in a somewhat domineering tone;
"that will do no good and much harm. And after
all, married or unmarried, every man has a right to
admire a pretty woman."
"But not to make love to her," muttered the young
man, with another vengeful glance.
"I am no casuist," replied Leah, calmly; "and
you should be pleased that things are as they are.
You can now return to Lima, or Bosario, and marry
the lady."
"She wouldn't have me!"
* Is she so much in love with Mr. Berring, then?"
"Please don't, Lady James. I can't talk like this
to you."
She gave a light laugh. "It seems to me that you
are talking; therefore I repeat my question."
"It might only have been gratitude," he murmured.
"For what?"
"Berring—I mean your husband—saved her from
being trampled upon by a mustang."
"How picturesque, and how suited to Jim's qualifi-
cations! And she f"
"No, she didn't," interrupted Askew, hurriedly. "I
Bee I have been mistaken. It was gratitude, not
love."
"Of course," said Lady Jim, jeeringly; "a woman
8


114 LADY JIM OF CURZOiN STREET
always prefers to exercise the former rather than the
latter."
"I wish I'd stopped and tried my lack," mut-
tered the sailor, not clover enough to interpret this
speech.
"It's not too late. Mr. Berring is safely secured,
by love and the law, to my apron-strings, so you can
go back and"
"No; I've just come in for a property of sorts, and
the service has seen the last of me."
"Is Senorita Fajardo in the same predicament as
the service?"
"There's a cousin, Lady James"
"A female cousin, who goes with the property, as
a fixture. I quite understand. You have to mairy
her, out of gratitude for the money, and without the
discomforting passion of love. The Spanish lady's
history repeats itself, I see."
Askew was rather discomfited. "How quick you
are!"
"You can't have had much to do with women," she
murmured; "but I hope you will make no trouble in
the smoking-room."
"No; as things are, it's none of my funeral," he
observed, grumpily.
"Quite so. I am the chief mourner."
"But I say, Lady James," said the lieutenant,
anxiously, "I hope what I've inadvertently told you
won't"
"Of course not," she assured him, mendaciously; " my
husband is most trustworthy, as you can see by his
choice of that ugly old maid as a dinner companion,
You were mistaken."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 115
"1 think I must have been," said Askew, with great
relief. "Of course, people talk at Lima, as elsewhere,"
he ended apologetically.
"Unless South America is inhabited by the deaf
and dumb, I suppose they do."
"You're laughing at me, Lady James."
"I always laugh. It's good for the digestion."
"At everything?"
"At everything."
"Even at love?" he asked timidly.
She shot an amused glance at his colouring face.
"Remember you are engaged to the fixture, Mr.
Askew."
"But I say, can't I come and see you in town?"
"I shall be delighted, if you can find your way to
Ourzon Street."
"You live there %" he asked obtusely.
"In a most respectable manner with my husband,
Mr. Berring. I'm known as Lady Jim of Curzon
Street. Most improper, isn't it, when Berring?"
"I say, don't," expostulated the young man, quickly.
"I'll never forgive myself for being such a fool. Can
I call you Lady Jim?"
He was getting on very fast, and Leah, in the
interests of virtue, deemed it necessary to snub him.
"Certainly not. Only people who have known me
fifty years address me so familiarly."
"You must believe in re-incarnation then," he
retorted.
This was clever and pleased her. "I was Circe in
the days of Homer, Mr. Askew. But as to my name
now, there is another Lady Jim—a horrid woman
who carries tracts and meddles with morals, and dresses


n6 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
in a piously shabby fashion. So that we may not be
mixed up, I am known by the name of the street I
live in. To you I am Lady James Kaimes!"
"And Circe, the sorceress," he murmured.
Leah laughed. "We'll see what sort of animal my
magic will turn you into," she observed, with an
encouraging smile.
This was a distinct promise, or at least he construed
it as such, for his eyes brightened, and he glanced at
her in a way which assured her that she was looking
her best. He was certainly a delightful boy, she
reflected, if somewhat fickle. But a man who was
catholic enough to marry the fixture, and adore the
Spanish lady, and make sudden love to herself, must
be worth feminine appreciation and study. Besides,
he was good-looking, and had money, conjoined with
a frank and unsuspicious nature. Assuredly, he might
be useful, if not inclined to explore the Land of
Tenderness too assiduously. But in that case, he might
compromise her in an earnest, pig-headed way, which
would be at once boring, ridiculous, and dangerous.
Leah approved of playing with fire, but she was too
careful to risk a personal conflagration. Though
allured by the prospect of tormenting an honest heart,
she had not made up her mind to enjoy the opportunity
by thb time she left the dining-room. But a distinctly
tigerish glance, sent to her address by Demetrius,
almost inclined her to give young Askew the chance
of making a fool of himself. The Kussian bad ap-
parently noticed the embryo flirtation.
"All the better," thought Leah, sailing into the
Adamless Eden of the winter garden; "it will be an
additional card to play"—which showed that Lady


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 117
Jim was by no means satisfied with the arrangement
come to between her husband and his father.
"A cigarette, dear Lady Jim?" simpered Mrs.
Pen worthy.
"No, thanks; I leave smoking to women who bait
their hooks with agreeable vices"; and she moved
towards Lady Canvey.
It was horribly rude, and Mrs. Penworthy choked
back an hysterical scream.
"Delightful woman, Lady James," said Miss Jaffray.
"Delightful," assented the other, who at the moment
would gladly have mounted the scaffold on a charge
of murdering her insolent rival. "I call her perfectly
lovely. Such a perfect complexion, and exquisite figure,
and heavenly eyes, and large hands."
But this piece of spite was wasted, as by this time
Lady Jim was seated by her godmother, assuring that
sceptical lady how absolutely delighted she was to learn
that dear Jim had arranged matters with the dear
Duke. "And so sweet of the Duke to tell you," she
went on. "I know how anxious you have been about
me.
"Can you wonder at it, my dear, when you are so
sweet and gentle and womanly?" said Lady Canvey,
who was quite equal to a war of words.
"You must be thinking of Hilda Frith," replied
Lady Jim, calmly. "1 cannot call myself such an
angel."
"No; you left that to the sailor-boy you were
flirting with."
"Poor boy, he doesn't know how to flirt."
"You'll teach him, my dear," chuckled the old lady.
"Not without fees."


Ii8 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Humph. His education will cost him a pretty
penny."
"Possibly. But I might teach him for love, after the
fashion of Miss Tallentire and Lionel."
"Rubbish! Joan doesn't know how to flirt."
"Or to dress either. I must ask her how the
Whiteley sales are getting on."
"Leah!" said Lady Convey, with a pained look.
"Why have you such a bitter tongue 1"
"I must defend myself somehow. You wouldn't
have me scratch and bite, would you 1"
"I would have you be more womanly and lovable,
my dear."
"On a thousand a year, and such a husband as
I have?"
"Every man is what his wife makes bim."
"They generally go to other men's wives to be
manufactured. Besides, so far as Jim is concerned,
you can't make a silk purse out of a certain animal's
ear."
"My dear, I am an old woman, and perhaps rather
sharp-tongued at times, but I have a motherly feeling
for you. Can't you give up this wild life, and go abroad
to devote yourself to Jim? He has his good points,
my dear, and if you would try and live more amicably
with him, I am sure you would be a happy woman.
Then, in a year or so, you could come back to Curzon
Street, with all the debts paid, and your full income
to live on. Believe me"—she laid a withered hand
on Leah's beautiful arm—" I speak for the best, my dear
girl."
Leah smiled disdainfully. "Now that the sermon's
over, can I pass round the plate 1" she said cruelly.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 119
"Not for me to put money in," said Lady Canvey,
with a flush. "I shan't give you a penny. It is useless
talking to you, Leah; your one idea is money and
enjoyment and love of admiration."
"It seems to me that those are three ideas," replied
Lady Jim, rising; "but as our conversation is neither
enjoyable nor instructive, I shall go away." All the
same she lingered, and talked in a low tone, with
unexpected emotion. "You blame me, Lady Canvey,
for being what I am. Pray, what chance have I had
of being otherwise? I lost my mother when I was a child;
I was brought up by a neglectful and selfish father; I
am married to a husband who has nothing of the man
about him, save those handsome looks, which lured me
into a much-regretted marriage. All my life I have
lived with worldly and material people, and your counsel
has been as worldly as that of any one of them. I
have never been shown the difference between right
and wrong, and there isn't a single soul in the world who
has a spark of love for me. If my up-bringing and sur-
roundings had been better, I might be a good woman—so
far as I can be, I am a good woman. I have my moments
of regret—I have my moments when I wish I could be
a religious, dowdy saint. But who will help me out
of the mire—who will ?" Here she broke off, for her
emotion was becoming too strong for the publicity of the
place. With a violent effort, which showed the strength
and coinage of her nature, she calmed down, and the
colour faded from her face, as did the frown, which
gave place to a cynical smile. Annoyed with herself
for having given Lady Canvey a glimpse of her better
nature, she walked away, leaving the old woman
surprised and startled, and, in her own selfish way,


120 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
truly sorry. There was much truth in what Leah had
said.
Eut her mask was on again the moment she crossed
to the door, and Demetrius, who was obviously looking
for her, saw only the beautiful, calm woman he knew
so well. His face was as agitated as Leah's had been
a few minutes previously.
"Madame, I must see you privately."
"What an extraordinary request, monsieur!"
"Ah, but you will understand "He threw out
his hands expressively.
"No; I am ignorant of the deaf and dumb
language."
"Cruel—cruel."
"Silly—silly," she mocked, then glanced round with
up-raised eyebrows; "don't make a scene, monsieur, or
I shall begin to believe that you appreciate our English
custom of lingering over the wine."
"Will you let me explain?" entreated the Russian.
"Certainly—to-morrow, at four. I'll be in the
picture gallery. Good night"; and with a friendly nod
she moved away.
Demetrius swore softly in Russian, which is a most
picturesque language in many ways. Without a glance,
Lady Jim ascended the stairs, well pleased. Demetrius
was losing command of himself, and therefore would
be all the easier to manage, should she require his
services. "I'll have that twenty thousand before
spring," she decided.


CHAPTER X
"What is love?" asked Leah, the next day, at twenty
minutes past four of a clear wintry afternoon.
With all his knowledge of five languages, Demetrius
could find no answer, and rose from his knees with the
feelings of a man who is trying to melt an iceberg with
a lucifer match. Ever since Lady Jim arrived to keep
her appointment in the picture gallery, he had been
explaining his feelings at length, and in the orthodox
attitude of a mortal worshipping a goddess. He had
crossed his "t's" and dotted his "i's" with the utmost
precision. From English he had glided into French, to
plead the attractions of illicit passion: two minutes
of German resulted in sentimental assertions of that pas-
sion's righteousness, and in illustrations of Wertherism;
and, immediately before she asked that impossible ques-
tion, he had harked back to her native tongue, to im-
press upon her the solid British common-sense of his
wooing. Leah listened to this polyglot love-making
with the feeling that she was camping under the tower
of Babel. Demetrius might have been a gramophone,
pouring out recitations from the poets, for all the im-
pression his impassionate rhetoric made on her well-
trained feelings.
"I suppose all these speeches can be classified under
the heading of love," she said unkindly, when his
121


122 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
exhaustion gave her an opportunity of intervening.
"But—what is love 1"
"I have been trying to explain," stammered the
Russian, getting on his legs dispiritedly.
"Oh, your intentions are of the best. I gather that
much; but I am still waiting for a definition."
"Love is worship," ventured Demetrius, rashly.
"Then why aren't you on your knees?"
"I have been on my knees for fifteen minutes."
"Really! When did you look at your watch?"
"My heart told mo."
"Then your heart is a time-keeper, or perhaps a
time-server."
"If you will permit me to serve you, my service will
be for all time."
"Ah! It seems we are immortal, then?"
"You are," he declared passionately; "every goddess
is immortal."
Lady Jim laughed. This war of words was amusing
and pretty, but she wished to arrive at some conclusion
which would repay her for spending an hour in a cold
gallery, packed with shockingly bad pictures.
"I am waiting for your definition of love," she said
at length.
"I cannot explain the impossible."
"It seems to me that you have been trying to do so.
Would you like to hear how I define love 1"
His eyes burned like two menacing stars. "Yes," he
muttered in a husky voice, and holding his passions in
leash.
"Love is sacrifice," said Leah, slowly.
"Then I—love you," he burst out. "There is no
sacrifice I would not make for your dear sake."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 123
"Can I believe that?"
"Try me," and Le again dropped on his knees.
"Get up," said Lady Jim, brusquely. He did so.
"Take a seat!" He did so. "Look at the floor, and
not at me." He did so. "Now then," she continued,
feeling relieved that those fierce eyes were not making
her flesh creep, "do you know what you are, Monsieur
Demetrius?"
"A fool," he murmured bitterly, his gaze on the
parquetry.
"I quite agree with you," she rejoined promptly.
"And why?"
"Because I love you."
"Not at all. Because you don't love Katinka
Aksakoff."
"What has that to do with this ?" he said gloomily.
"Everything. She is free and I am not; she loves
you, and I don't; she will do you good, I shall do
you harm; she can gain your pardon and make your
fortune"
"And you can make me happy," cried Demetrius,
looking up with the air of one who has found a clinch-
ing argument.
"With the crumbs from my husband's table?"
"You don't love him!"
The British-matron portion of Leah revolted against
this plain speaking. She liked sugar-coated speeches.
"You have no right to say that."
"I have no right to make love to you," cried the
doctor, rising, "but I do. Pschutt "—he snapped his
fingers—" what care I for that English pig, your
husband? As to that young fool who sat beside you
last night"


124 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Lady Jim clapped her hands, and jumped up,
laughing. "Oh," she cried, with great enjoyment, " so
it was Mr. Askew's attentions that made you lose
your head 1"
"But not my heart. I lost that months ago, when
I first met you. Ah, you cruel woman, have I not
worshipped and adored you these many days? Do
I not ache here?" he struck his breast passionately.
"Have you not made my life miserable with your looks
and smiles and coldness and beauty?" He seized her
hands roughly. "I love you so much that I—even I,
Constantino Demetrius—could kill you—kill you."
She released herself with a cold laugh. "That sounds
as though you were in earnest. But if I could return
your love"
"Ah!" he made a step towards her, trembling and
breathing hard.
"One moment." She waved him back, and retreated
herself to the window. "Supposing I could love you—
what then?"
"I would—I would "He flung out his hands with
a sob. "What is your price?" he cried savagely.
"How crudely you put things!" said Lady Jim,
coolly. "My price is your services, to be given blindly,
and without question."
"And my reward?"
"Marriage with me."
Demetrius stared, and gazed at her with unaffected
amazement. "You mock me," he said faintly.
"No, I am in earnest. It is true that I am not
free now. But," she looked at him steadily, "you can
make me so."
"Murder," whispered Demetrius, looking up and


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 125
down the long, empty, chill gallery, and not at the Eve
who was tempting him.
Leah blazed out into genuine rage. "What do you
mean?" she cried, stamping her foot. "Not a hair of
Jim's head shall be harmed."
"Then how—how?"
"Sit down and listen," she said, pointing to a chair.
"I have a deeper feeling for you than you think.
No; leave my hand alone. We are now talking
business."
"Business," echoed Demetrius, blankly.
Lady Jim nodded composedly. "The pleasure can come
later. You have no money, no title, no position"
"I can make money," he explained rapidly; "and
I can take up again my title of Prince, which I dropped
when I became a doctor. As the wife of a Russian
noble"
"You will have to make your peace with the Czar
to get these things."
"I will do so."
"Through Mademoiselle Askakoff?"
"No; there are other ways. I am not worthy
of Katinka"
"And, tl ere"01 e, think yourself worthy of me," said
Lady Jim, calmly. "Thank you! There's nothing like
being honest."
"But you do not understand"
"Oh yes, I do. I understand that you can make
me a cheap sort of princess, and in some way can give
me money"
"All that you require—as my wife."
"You must have the lamp of Aladdin, then," said
Leah, with a shrug. "My capacity for spending will try


126 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
even your finances. But at the present moment I
have not a penny, neither has my husband."
"Well ?" asked the doctor, anxiously.
Now that the plunge was made she found less
difficulty in speaking plainly. Leaning towards him,
till the perfume of her hair and the close neighbourhood
of her whole gracious person nearly maddened him into
seizing her in his arms, she proceeded rapidly. "My
husband's life is insured for twenty thousand pounds.
If you as a doctor can arrange to satisfy the insurance
company of his death, so that we can get the money,
he will disappear, and I, in the eyes of the world, shall
be free to marry you."
"Do you mean that I should give him a drug,
and"
"No; I mean—Harold Garth."
"My peasant patient. Well?"
"How stupid you are," said Lady Jim, with unfeigned
irritation. "This man Garth is very like Jim, and
is apparently dying"
"He can't live another two months."
"Then the matter is easily managed. Can't you
see?"
"Yes," replied Demetrius, whose quick brain seized
the feasibility of the scheme at once. "But will your
husband give you up 1"
Leah nodded, not wishing to be too explicit. "We
have arranged that."
"And does he know that his disappearance means
our marriage?"
"No! He thinks you are poor, and will do anything
for money."
"Ah," said Demetrius, sarcastically. "Then the


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 127
high-born nobleman does not credit me with being a
gentleman?"
"What does it matter what he thinks?" said Lady
Jim, impatiently. "We needn't trouble about him
after he disappears. Can it be managed 1"
"Yes, if you will promise to marry me when you
are free and in possession of this money."
She gave him both hands. "I do promise."
He bent down and kissed them, passionately.
"Consider it done."
"Without any scandal?"
"Assuredly. Listen! The Duke wishes to save the
life of this Garth, because—he is fond of him."
"Yes, yes; I understand. Go on."
"I say to the Duke that a warm climate will work
wonders," continued Demetrius, dramatically. "He
will gladly consent, and with this Garth I go to"
"To Nice, or Cannes, or"
"No," said the doctor, sharply. "If I set foot on
the Continent I may be captured by the secret police.
I have no wish to take Garth with me to Siberia," he
added sarcastically. "It is not a warm climate. The
Azores—Madeira—Jamaica—Barbados—any such place,
will make him better."
"I don't want him to be made better," said the other
conspirator, naively.
"Leave that to me, madame. Garth will die as
Garth, and be buried as Milor, your husband."
"No, no," said Leah, with a shudder. "I won't
have murder."
"You are scrupulous," rejoined Demetrius, with a
shrug. "But make your mind easy. Garth cannot
live—he may die on the voyage"


128 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Or he may live for months."
Demetrius shrugged his shoulders again. "In that
case, I may have to assist nature."
"No," said Leah, again, and very determinedly. "I
could never spend the money with any pleasure if I
thought that you—you assisted nature," she ended
faintly, not liking to use a strong word.
The Russian looked at her with silent surprise. He
could not understand why she should be scrupulous
in one thing and not in another. She contemplated a
fraud on the insurance company, and bigamistic marriage
with him, so it was impossible to guess why she should
object to the inclusion of a third crime."
"And it would scarcely be murder," said Demetrius,
continuing his train of thought aloud. "He is so ill,
this poor Garth, that the relief of death"
"Don't," interrupted Leah, who both looked and
felt pale. "I won't have it. Let the poor man die
in peace. If he dies otherwise, I shall refuse to marry
you."
"You may do that in any case," said the doctor
grimly. "W hat hold have I over you?"
"There is no need for you to have any hold," said
Lady Jim, wincing, and feeling that she had indeed
delivered herself into the power of the enemy. "But
if you think I will not keep my promise you are
mistaken. I swear to marry you."
"Ah, well," said Demetrius, with a penetrating look,
"If you do not marry me, you cannot marry another,
since your husband will always be alive."
He spoke with slow significance.
"Oh, you make him out to be immortal also," said
she, with an uneasy laugh; then felt the necessity


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 129
of bringing this interview to a conclusion. "We must
part now. It will not do for us to be seen talking
together."
"I agree," said Demetrius, gravely; "your proposal
alters our relations entirely. In society, I will speak
to you little."
Lady Jim nodded, and put her handkerchief to her
lips with a feeling of nausea. Now that her scheme
was taking shape, its outlines appeared rather repulsive.
To read of such a plot conceived and detailed by a
dexterous author was amusing and stimulating; to
engage in its execution meant worry, and a fearful
ignorance as to what might happen, should things
go awry. The same difference might be supposed to
exist between Aldershot manoeuvres and a real battle.
Theorising in criminality was easy; practice would
be both difficult and dangerous.
Moreover, she might have to pay a very large price
for the privilege of engaging in this questionable trans-
action. Demetrius would certainly exact his bond
in genuine Shylock fashion. Needless to say, she had
no intention of marrying him, and trusted to the pro-
vidence of the peacocK fetish to avoid the necessity
though at the moment she saw no means wherebv
she could escape fulfilling her promise. This reflection
almost made her draw back. As yet, she was not under
the doctor's thumb, and could extricate herself even
at this eleventh hour by denying everything, should
he dare to speak out. But a second thought of her
desperate need of money, a sordid vision of cheap
hotels and ready-made frocks, a shuddering remem-
brance that the future, as it now stood, meant limited
pocket-money and the everlasting boredom of Jim's
9


130 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
society, turned the scale in favour of the venture. "Be
bold! Be bold!" said the warning of the door in the
old fairy tale, and Leah thought the advice worth
taking. But she forgot the concluding words, "Be not
too bold I"
"I leave details to you," she said to her companion,
when they had concluded their nefarious bargain.
"Madame, I relieve you of all responsibility," said
Demetrius, now quite his grave, restrained self. "But,
should I tell the Duke that your husband is suffering
from consumption, you will endorse my statement, I
trust."
"Consumption? Jim? Oh, Lord, he's as healthy as
a pig."
"He will not be if he takes a certain medicine,"
said the man, dryly.
Leah had a conscience, though for years it had been
persistently snubbed into holding its peace. After all,
Jim was her husband, and she had no right to sanction
tricks being played on his robust health. "You don't
mean "Her voice died away nervously.
"I mean business," Demetrius flashed out. "I love
you, and I mean to win you. The price that you ask
shall be paid."
"Without harm to Jim or this man Garth?"
"I swear it."
"In that case "—Leah extended her hand, to with-
draw it suddenly before the Russian could rain kisses on
its soft whiteness. A choking sensation, new to one of
her superb health, made her gasp frantically after the
breath which seemed to be leaving her. With un-
expected force came a new sensation. This abominable
playing with the lives and hearts of men stirred up


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 131
to vehement protest a hitherto unknown better self
which overwhelmed her with wave upon wave of reproach-
ful shame. Conscience, uppermost for once in her
greedy, selfish, animal life, stripped the contemplated
sin of its allurements, and she recoiled before an inward
vision of the horror her baser nature was creating.
It might prove to her what the monster proved to
Frankenstein, and haunt her with nightmare insistence
for the remainder of an unbearable life.
"So weak, madame?" asked Demetrius, reading the
secret handwriting on the wall like a very Daniel.
The sneer nerved her, and she strove desperately
to escape from the light of heaven into the material
darkness, that would not reveal her sin, unclothed and
shameless. "No!" she cried in a loud, ringing voice.
"I—I "Again the celestial light mercilessly and
mercifully disclosed the inward foulness of that fair-
seeming sin, and the sight beat down her pride and
courage into nothingness. "I take it all back," she
stuttered, broken-up and panic-struck. "Forget—don't
move in—in "Something clicked in her throat, and
only by a violent effort did she repress the climbing
hysteria. Incapable of speech, and only anxious to
escape from this extraordinary influence, which com-
pelled her to face the powers of darkness in their
naked horror, she passed swiftly down the long, echoing
gallery. Not till she was safe in her own room did
she halt, to consider why she had fled. Her brain
was now clear, and the actual world resumed its wonted
aspect. Her face was still white, her lips still quivered,
her soul was still shaken by the visitation. But, with
a courage worthy of a better cause, she sat down
and fought with her fears, till the colour returned


132 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
and the nerves came under control. Yet her material
nature could not grasp that the terrible gift of the
interior sight had been hers for one short moment.
"I'm a fool!" she assured herself harshly.
And she was. For, as the walls of the flesh closed
round her soul, to darken it anew, her good angel, who
had wrought the miracle, weeping for the blind that
would not see and the deaf that would not hear, left
her despairingly. Then the powers of darkness soothed
her into such contentment, that she laughed scornfully
at her late folly, and adopted their explanation.
"I'm run down with all this worry," said Lady Jim.
"I really need a tonic."


CHAPTER XI
A triple knock at the door both interrupted Leah's
meditations and annoyed her, as she was far from
wishing for company. It could not be Jim, as he
usually banged the panels impatiently, and walked in
before the invitation to enter could be heard through
the noise of his tattoo. Besides, Jim, for obvious
reasons, connected with Askew, had made himself
scarce for the last four-and-twenty hours. Should it be
a visitor, Leah resolved to decline conversation, espe-
cially with one of her own sex. But the women of the
house-party so rarely ventured into Lady Jim's sitting-
room, that she concluded the di.sturber to be some
servant with a message. Perhaps Jim had broken his
head while skating, or had made a hole in the ice. If
so, his death would greatly simplify matters.
"Come in," she cried impatiently, and to her surprise,
Lionel presented himself, with a somewhat diffident
look. "Oh, it's you, padre!" Lady Jim had picked up
the word from a Sandhurst cadet. "What's the matter,
—anything wrong?"
"What should be wrong?" inquired Kaimes, closing
the door and remaining on the inside.
"Oh, I don't know. I always expect bad news
when I see a lawyer's letter or a parson's face. Well?
133


134 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Has Lady Canvey been converted, or has Jim gone to
that place where the climate forbids skating?"
"Nothing of the sort has happened," said Lionel,
dryly. "I have merely come to chat with you."
"Sit down, then, though I warn you I don't feel
companionable."
"You are worried."
"My dear man, when am I anything else but worried,
with Jim for a husband, and the Duke behaving like
Shylock at his worst? You and Jim have made a mess
of things."
"I don't know about Jim," said Lionel, resenting
this ungrateful speech, "but I did my best to put
matters in the right light."
"Oh, Lord, who wanted a right light? The less light
on Jim's and my affairs the better. A few white lies
would have resulted in a larger sum than that miserable
two hundred with which the Duke insulted us."
"I am not in the habit of telling lies, white or black,
Lady James."
"I daresay. You parsons are so ridiculously punc-
tilious. As if diplomatic lies were not as oil on the
troubled waters of this world."
"I did not come to discuss this," said Lionel, seeing
how utterly impossible she was, "but to help you in
your trouble."
"What trouble?"
"I don't know. I was reading in the library, when
a feeling came to me that I must see you at once—
that you needed assistance."
Leah looked rather queer. What could he pos-
sibly know of her late experience ?" Telepathy, I
suppose."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 135
"Well, that may be the scientific name for the
Divine Spirit."
"The what?"
"The Divine Spirit," he repeated, firmly and seriously.
"I believe that the impulse to seek you came from
above. You are in danger."
"Am I—of being bored to death?"
"You can't deny that you are in trouble of some
sort. I can see it in your expression."
"My trouble is my own. I share it with no one."
"Then you are in"
"Pray don't question me," snapped Leah, with a
nervous glance around. This interference of the Un-
seen with her material affairs was both weird and
uncomfortable. She could not deny the panic that had
driven her headlong from the security of the flesh, and
it was remarkable that Lionel, nnsummoned and un-
sought, should seek her at so critical a moment. The
feeling that he was meddling with what did not
concern him, annoyed her the more. "I wish you
would not frighten me," she cried, with an angry
determination to stop this uncanny business.
"Perhaps it is your conscience that is frightening
you."
"How dare you say that?"
"Because there is something serious the matter, or
I should not have been called to your assistance."
"I never called you."
"Then your good angel did."
"I don't believe in such things."
"Do you believe in anything 1"
"Yes," she said defiantly—" in myself."
"That is a poor help in time of trouble."


136 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"I have managed very well hitherto."
"Can you substantiate that statement, seeing how
embarrassed your worldly affairs are at this moment?"
Lady Jim could find no direct answer. "Parsons
have nothing to do with worldly matters," she muttered,
averting her eyes.
"Very true. But if I can offer spiritual consola-
tion"
"Take it to Lady Canvey. She needs it more than
I do."
"I doubt that, or the call would not have come."
"It's a false alarm, padre," she said jeeringly. "I
don't want to be preached at, and you're suffering from
indigestion, or softening of the brain."
"Well, Lady James," said Lionel, rising with a sigh,
"your limitations may lead you to look at the matter
in that light. But if I can do nothing for you, I can
only retire, after asking your pardon—as I do—for my
intrusion "; and he made for the door.
Her mood changed with feminine rapidity, and she
beckoned imperatively that he should remain. Disguise
it as she would to Kaimes, his sudden coming on the
top of her late puzzling experience drove her to
acknowli dge that something outside the material was
at work. Leah was too clever a woman to deny the
existence of more things in heaven and earth than
came within the scope of her knowledge.
"It is the duty of you parsons to pry into the
secrets of souls, I suppose," she said, leaning her elbow
on the chair arm, and her chin on her hand. "But
what interest can you have in my soul—if I have one?"
"I, as other servants of the Master, interest myself
in all souls."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 13;
"That you may save them?"
"Only Christ can do that."
"I may deny His power to do so—I may deny
Kim."
"And so fall as Peter fell," said Lionel, sadly. "Yet
he repented with bitter weeping."
"I am not a tearful woman," she retorted, and
turned to look into the fire. She did not wish to meet
his eyes when she spoke the ensuing acknowledgment.
"You are a good man, Lionel, and—and—you may be
able to help me."
Kaimes resumed his seat. "I hope so; but I can
only point the way to a better Helper, and One
more powerful."
She continued to gaze at the burning coals. "I was
frightened a few minutes before you entered," she said
abruptly.
"By what?"
"That is the question you must answer. By some-
thing which made me see what a horrid nature I
have."
Lionel was silent for a few moments, not quite sure
of his speech.
"The Unseen presses closely around us," he remarked
at length, "and at times reveals itself. For instance,
a contemplated sin may be prevented by a spiritual
influence informing the intelligence how terrible the
consequences of such a sin may be."
"It was the sin itself rather than its cons quence
which frightened me," murmured Leah, so softly that
Lionel caught but one word.
"What ib that you say about sin?"
Lady Jim's cunning made her shirk confession


138 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Nothing—oh, nothing," she said hurriedly; "only it
seems to me that everything pleasant is a sin in your
eyes."
"Dead Sea Fruit," replied Kaimes, earnestly; "fair
to the eye, foul to the taste. If you turn devoutly to
the spiritual, the material pleasures of this world lose
their attractiveness."
"Perhaps," she said sceptically; "but many things
goody-goody people of your sort shudder at are attrac-
tive. You can't deny that."
"I have no wish to. Satan always supplies us with
rose-coloured spectacles, through which to contemplate
his works."
Lady Jim rose and walked up and down the narrow
limits of the room, twisting her hands in a nervous,
hesitating way, quite unlike her usually calm, decisive
self. "I wish you would not talk nonsense," she
snapped; "it is absurd to believe in a personal devil."
"And in a possible hell also, I suppose you would say."
"Oh," she said carelessly, "scientists have explained
that away."
"And the Inquisition of the middle ages denied that
the earth went round the sun," said Kaimes, grimly;
"but I understand that it does."
"Clever, but not convincing. What is the use of
talking nursery theology and cheap science to me?
What can you say that is likely to do me good?"
"The patient must be frank with his physician,"
hinted Lionel.
"Oh, we always tell the exact truth to doctor and
lawyer," said Lady Jim, scornfully, "because we fear
for our bodies and our property. But who tells the
truth to a parson?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 139
"Those who are convinced of sin."
"In that case I may as well hold my tongue. I am
not convinced of anything, not even if I ought to make
you my father confessor."
"I cannot compel your confidence. On the other
hand, I cannot help you unless"
""Unless! Quite so. Let me think," and turning
her back on him, she went to the window. The early
winter gloom was blotting out the distant landscape,
but near at hand the spectral glare of the snow
revealed blackly the figures of homeward-bound skaters.
The cold deadness of so sinister a world did not tend
to soothe Leah's overstrung nerves, and ahrouded Nature
could give her no counsel. Had it been a summer's
twilight of nightingales and roses, of sleeping blossoms
and murmuring leaves, she would have recovered
sufficient spirit to scoff. But this arctic waste, livid
and still in the half light, reminded her of the frozen
hell, in the deadly chills of which shuddered Dante,
the seer. And the virile Saxon word hinted at the
possible, if not at the probable. Of course, it was all
very ridiculous, and her system was out of order.
Nevertheless, she felt that some kindly human comfort
and advice might restore her tormented mind to its
usual peace. And whatever she said to Lionel, he
would not dare to repeat. As a cousin, as a gentleman,
as a priest, his lips would be triply sealed. And he
might be able to point out a less dangerous path than
that towards which the need of money was driving her.
He was a good fellow, too, and honest enough, in spite
of his superstition. She decided to speak, and came
back to her chair. Had she been less material, she
could have heard in the stillness the rustling wings


140 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
of a returning angel. Lionel looked at her inquiringly.
She was about to speak hurriedly, lest the good impulse
should pass away, when Jim's tattoo was heard. Witt
a snap Leah closed her lips, as he lumbered, red-t'aced,
hearty, and essentially fleshy, into the room. The mere
sight of his tangible common-place made the woman
thank her stars that she had not blundered into
hysterical frankness.
"Holloa, Lionel! Holloa, Leah! Sittin' in the
twilight an' talkin' secrets—eh? Mind some light?"
He clicked the ivory knob near the door, and the room
sprang into vivid being. "Had a jolly day's skatin.
Y' should ha' come, Leah. No end of a lark. Feel
sick i" This polite question was asked because she
shaded her eyes from the glare.
"No; but I can't stand wild bulls charging into
a room."
"Might call it a china-shop," chuckled Jim, glancing
disparagingly at the nicknackery. "Nerves slack, I'll
bet. Fresh air an' exercise an' cheerful company is
what you want, Leah."
"I'm likely to get the last, with you," she rejoined
witheringly, for the overpowering vitality of the man
made her wince.
"Well, Lionel here's—been no catch in th' way of
fun, I expect. Seems to have given you the hump.
Goin', old man 1 All right! I'll cheer her up. See
you at dinner."
The curate nodded and went out. Since Jim's plunge
into the middle of their conversation he had not uttered
a word, for the interruption had jarred on him, as
on Lady Jim. Moreover, he departed with an intuitive
feeling that the golden moment had passed. And


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 141
this was truly the case. When she next saw him,
Leah wondered why she had so nearly made a fool
of herself. And indeed, she was already wondering
while Jim, obviously embarrassed, discoursed in a breezy,
blundering way, with an attempt at connubial fondness.
"Poor old girl," he said, sitting opposite to her,
looking fresh and handsome, and essentially manly.
"'Awfully sorry you're chippy. If I'd known I'd
ha' come back to keep you com) any."
"Are the heavens falling 1" asked Leah, listlessly.
Jim, as usual, could not follow this recondite speech.
"Don't know what you're talkin' about," he remarked
good-humouredly, and bustling to the bell. "You're
a peg too low, Leah. Tell you what: we'll have tea
here, an' a talk, if you don't mind."
His wife nodded, wondering if he was about to
confess his possible Mormonism. She did not think
so, as Jim never confessed anything, unless it was
dragged piecemeal out of him. Her feelings at this
moment did not lean towards cross-examination, so she
let him ring the bell and order tea, without using her
too-ready tongue. In fact, she unbent so far as to
make use of him.
"Get me a dose of sal volatile, Jim," she ordered.
"There's a bottle on my dressing-table."
"Poor old girl," said the sympathetic Jim, again,
and stumbling into the next room with eager haste.
Leah smiled to herself. This ready obedience argued
a guilty conscience.
After Jim dosed her, he was tactful enough to hold
his tongue and improve the fire, without clattering
the poker and tongs. Then he pulled down the
blinds and drew the curtains, and altered the shades


142 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
of the electrics, so that Leah might not be overpowered
by the glare.
"It's quite like a new honeymoon," she said,
sarcastically. The drug was doing its renovating work,
and her original devil was returning to a swept and
garnished house, with seven other spirits more wicked
than himself.
Jim took the remark seriously, and coloured with
pleasure. "I believe we'd get on rippin'," said he,
enthusiastically. "If we only had the money I believe
we'd be as happy as birds."
"They can't be very happy in this cold weather,"
replied Leah, seeing plainly that Jim's amiability was
owing to a selfish fear of reproval for his iniquities.
"Here's the tea. I don't want any just now, as the
sal volatile is doing me good. You can eat."
"Oh, can't I, just," said Jim, when the footman left
and he was filling himself a cup. "Th' skatiu's given
me an appetite. 'Sides, I want to get into form, as
I've somethin' serious to say about this insurance
business."
Leah looked up suddenly. "I thought you had
given that the go-by."
"No—o—o," drawled her husband, not meeting her
eyes. "Course, th' pater's a good sort an' all that.
But his arrangement will give us a howlin' bad time
for the next few years."
"So I told you."
"Well, then," Jim fiddled nervously with a piece of
toast, "why not get the twenty thousand?"
"It could be managed, of course, with some little
difficulty."
"Through that Russian Johnny?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 143
"Demetrius? Yes."
"You've see him, then?"
"To-day. He'll see the thing through."
"What's his price?"
Leah smiled blandly, as she thought of what Jim
would say did she reply honestly to this question. But
she did not intend to. It seemed to her that Jim
was driving her towards the very path which Lionel,
unknowingly, wished her to avoid. It was useless to
fight against fate, so she decided, and like many
another person, she laid the blame on those scapegoats,
the stars. She was now completely dominated by the
selfish influence of the great god Mammon, and the
lesser sin of lying was swallowed up in the greater
one of idolatry.
"He'll want a few thousands, of course," she said
mendaciously; "but, as yet, we have not fixed any
sum."
"Hum," muttered Jim, suspiciously. "I thought he'd
want something more than money."
Leah rose indignantly, and proclaimed a virtue that
her conscience assured her she might yet lose. "I
am an honest woman, Jim," she said haughtily, " and,
married or unmarried, I should never allow any man
to make love to me."
"Seems to me you do."
"Only to pass away the time. I stop short
when"
"When their hearts are broken," growled her
husband. "Upon my soul, Leah, I'm straighter than
you are."
"I doubt that, since you swear by what you haven't
got."


144 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Jim rashly became aggressively virtuous. "I've not
been a bad sort of husband to you, Leah."
"I have seen so little of you that it is rather
difficult for me to give an opinion," she said, resting
her elbow on the mantel-piece. "Mrs. Boning may
be in a better position to judge of your virtues."
Kaimes turned white with emotion, and he rose
from his low chair as though worked by springs. "It's
a lie," he growled hoarsely. "I never married her."
"Married who?"
"The lady you talk about."
"The lady Mr. Askew talked about, you mean. I
merely mention her name."
"It is not her name. She is Lola Fajardo."
"Of the Estancia, San Jago. So Mr. Askew explained."
"Oh, if you're goin' to make a row"
"Do I ever make rows i" asked Lady Jim, im-
patiently.
"You don't care enough about me to raise Cain,"
said Jim, rather sorry for himself. "I swear I'd be
a different man, if you were a different woman."
"Every husband in the divorce court witness-box
makes the same excuse. Sit down, Jim, and let us talk
over the matter quietly. Your infidelities have long
since converted us from man and wife into a business
firm to earn money."
"But, Leah, I swear"
"By that soul you know nothing about?" she flashed
out contemptuously. "Talk sense, if you are capable of
doing so. You have been trying to dodge this explana-
tion ever since you met Mr. Askew last night, in the
smoking-room. But now that we've stumbled on an
opening, perhaps you will explain."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 145
"Explain what?"
"All that Mr. Askew did not tell me."
"Oh, he's been makin' somethin' out of nothin', the
silly ass," protested Jim, sitting down and handling
the poker with a fervent wish that he could use it on
the sailor's head. "I met Senorita Fajardo at Lima,
and later at Buenos Ayres. Her brother asked me out
to their estancia in the camp of Argentina, near
Rosario, and I stopped there for a month. Bit of luck
came my way, an' I pulled her from under a beastly
mustang, that would have kicked the life out of
her. She took a fancy to me, 'cause I saved her
life."
"Is that all?"
""Well, I went again to San Jago, last year"
"Your third visit to South America since our
marriage."
"Yes," said Jim, sullenly; "an' I met Lola—I mean
Senorita Fajardo."
"Oh, don't apologise. Lola is a pretty name."
"An' she's a pretty woman, an' I'm flesh an' blood,"
cried Jim, getting up to work himself into a rage. "I
met her durin' my second visit, an' went again to the
estancia on my third. It was no use luggin' a title
round, for these mouldy hotel-keepers always make a
chap pay for havin' a handle to his name, so I called
myself Berring—James Berring."
"James Berring, bachelor."
"Bachelor, certainly. I haven't married her, and
if Askew says I have, he's a liar."
"And assuredly a mar-plot," said Leah, dryly, "since
he has exploded your romance. I understood from him
that this lady loves you."
10


i46 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"So she does."
"And you love her?"
Jim wriggled. "Oh, go on—go on! Kick a chap
when he's down!"
"If I had intended to kick, you would have been
black and blue by now, Mr. James Berring. But you
needn't flatter yourself that my feelings are hurt in
any way. You're not worth it."
"Other women think differently."
"Lola Fajardo, for instance."
"Well, I can't help that, can II If you'd been a
different sort of woman, I'd have"
"you said that before. Had we not better get to
business?"
"What business?"
"The insurance business. I don't care for you, and
you show very plainly that you don't care for me. It
is useless for us to struggle together like a couple of
ill matched dogs in leash. Give me fifteen thousand of
this money, and then you can marry your Lola woman."
Jim turned white again. "You seem jolly anxious
to get rid of me."
"Can you wonder if I do? How many women would
take this scandalous matter as quietly as I do?"
"It's not scandalous," said Kaimes, fiercely. "She
thinks that I am a bachelor, and I'm not even engaged
to her. I have tried to be true to you, Leah," declared
Jim, pathetically.
His wife shrugged her shoulders. It was rather late
in the day for Jim to talk sentiment, besides being a
waste of time. "Well 1" she asked, facing him squarely.
Jim read her purpose in a very flinty face. "I'll
do what you want," he said weakly.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 147
"Then there's no more to be said," remarked Leah,
coldly, moving towards the door of her bedroom.
"Demetrius will explain, if you will afford him half
an hour's private conversation."
"Leah, do you really mean it?"
"I have meant it from the first moment you put
the idea into my head," she said in a harsh voice. "This
underhand love-making of yours only makes me the
more determined."
"But there was no"
"Don't lie, Jim. A man can no more love two women
than he can serve two masters. Is it to be Lola
Fajardo, or myself 1"
"I leave it to you, Leah."
"Then I choose the fifteen thousand pounds," she said,
and vanished into the bedroom. Jim took an impulsive
step towards the door, but the sharp click of a turning
key showed him that he was locked out for ever.
That evening Leah talked so gaily, and looked so
beautiful, that her father-in-law was absolutely fasci-
nated. "Is it all right between you and James]" he
asked graciously.
"Yes," Leah assured him; "we understand one
another thoroughly."


CHAPTER XII
Leah welcomed the New Year at Firmingham, with
the fervent hope that its bounty would bestow the
insurance money, and rid her of an official husband.
It really seemed as though Providence, or the fetish,
was in a benign mood, for Jim caught the worst of
colds while skating. Being confined to an undesired
bed, and fed with food tasteless to a cultivated palate,
he lost both flesh and temper. Demetrius talked
gravely of weak lungs, and hinted at inherited con-
sumption. The Duke was anxious, but scarcely
surprised, and recalled similar cases of a grandmother,
two ancestors, and a rackety uncle. Lady Jim en-
couraged these pulmonary recollections for obvious
reasons. She and Demetrius winked privately at one
another like the celebrated augurs, when they heard
the old man's lamentations. Nature was acting strictly
on the lines of the Russian's proposed medicine, and
there was no need to dose Jim into a sickly likeness
of Garth. Day by day he grew as white-faced, as
haggard, and as lean, until he became alarmed at the
anxiety of Providence to forward the schemes of himself
and Leah.
But there was no end to the kindness of an over-
ruling fate. Jim's illness afforded his wife the oppor-
tunity of posing as a sister of mercy, and she fussed
148


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 149
round the patient so ostentatiously, that the Duke
was quite touched. He began to think that Leah was
a true ministering angel, and not the money-wasting
doll he had considered her to be. Jim grinned as
Leah measured medicine, and fed him with gruel, and
read him interesting bits from the sporting journals.
"I believe I'm goin' to get well," he chuckled.
"Why so, dear?" asked his wife, who was profuse of
adjectives in private, so tbat they might slip out the
more easily in public.
"You look so uncommon dismal."
"It is necessary to keep up appearances," Leah
assured him. "Besides, this will be the last chance of
my doing anything for you. In future, Lola will soothe
your weary pillow "; after which and similar passages
of arms, Jim would curse himself to sleep, and wake
up to accuse his wife of wishing to poison him.
This fortunate illness kept Lady Jim at Firmingham
when the house-party disintegrated. But as the Duke
was a twaddling old ass, and Jim the most trying of
patients, Leah looked upon her ten days' boredom as a
kind of Lenten penance. Besides, she had frequent
confabulations with Demetrius, to settle details of the
plot. Already the doctor had explained to the Duke
that Garth would die easier in the tropics, and Funchal
had been selected as the most agreeable place for his
demise.
"And then f" asked Lady Jim.
"Your husband must go to Jamaica, to wait events."
"What events?"
"Those which I propose to bring about," retorted
Demetrius, who had his reasons for not explaining
himself too fully.


ISO LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Leah did not question him closely. With :i selfish
regard for her own safety, in case anything might leak
out, she preferred that the doctor should arrange
matters in his own way. But she obeyed instructions
to the extent of binthig to the Duke that Kingston was
the very best place for dear Jim's weak lungs.
"Will you go with him ?" asked Pentland, anxiously
"Oh no," said Lady Jim, sweetly; "we mustn't make
too much fuss over him, else he'll think he's going to
die."
"He might," sighed the Duke. "I had an uncle"
and he described the suflerings of old Lord George for
the tenth time.
Leah comforted him after the manner of one Bildad,
a Shuhite. "Oh, Kingston will do Jim no end of good,
my dear Duke. It won't cure one lung, but it may
patch up the other. And then, you know, if he gets
worse, I can always reach him in fourteen days."
"Does Demetrius think he will die?" asked the
Duke, piteously.
"He doesn't think poor Jim will ever he so strong
as he was," said Leah, gravely; "but he'll hang on,
with care."
"Just like my grandmother," muttered the Duke,
and then detailed the sufferings of a dowager duchess,
who couldn't bo kept alive beyond the age of sixty.
"If Jim lives till that age, I shall be content," said
Leah.
"Are you thinking of the insurance money?" de-
manded Pentland, with sudden anger.
"What insurance money? Oh yes, I think Jim did
mention something about an insurance."
M He gets it if he lives till sixty."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 151
"Really! I don't quite understand, Duke, but I'm
sure it's all right."
"I hope so, my dear. Has he made his will?"
"No. Why should he?"
"Because, in the event of his dying, the insurance
money should be left to you. No will means trouble."
Leah had never thought of a will, as it seemed
natural that the money should come to her without
the necessity of paying lawyers' bills. But her quick
brain seized the chance of smoothing the way to ac-
quiring the fortune with as little trouble as possible,
and she promptly cornered the Duke. "You speak
to him," she suggested.
And this the Duke did, with the result that a will
leaving the money to Leah was drawn up and signed,
after some opposition, by Jim. He did not at all
relish the carrying out of this necessary step. It was
too like preparing a death certificate to please Jim.
However, as a reward for his obedience, Demetrius
set him on his legs, and Jim went to Torquay with the
devoted Leah. But when he was settled in a comfort-
able hotel as an interesting invalid, and with a super-
fluity of pretty girls to soothe him with sympathy,
Lady Jim left him for a round of visits to various
country-houses. Now that the Duke was out of sight,
Jim's connubial comforts were out of mind; but Leah
left strict injunctions that he was not to put on flesh.
Within the month, she was to see him start for Jamaica,
and impressed upon him the necessity of looking quite
ready to depart for a place where Jim had no desire
to go.
"I don't see why you want to make a holy show
of me," grumbled Jim.


152 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"We must make your death appear as plausible as
possible."
"But I don't want to look like a livin' skeleton."
"Oh, I don't think Lola will mind," said Leah,
cruelly, and started out to enjoy herself in the best
of spirits.
While at Lord Sargon's seat in Shropshire, she met
Askew in the company of the fixture. The young
man's betrothed was extremely like a dairy-maid, and
her frocks set Lady Jim's teeth on edge. If she
could combine colours that did not match, she always
did so, and her character was as colourless as her -
wardrobe was gaudy. Marjory was the creature's name,
and her conversation was the "Pa-pal" "Mam-ma!"
of a squeaking doll.
"How much are you paying for her?" asked Leah,
after satisfying herself that the young lady was really
a woman.
"Five thousand a year," replied the lieutenant, sulkily.
"What a bargain!"
"Don't laugh at me," he implored; "you know there
is but one woman in the world for me."
"So you told me. Lola—what's her name?"
"Some one nearer and dearer than her!" he mur-
mured, with what the Americans call "goo-goo" eyes,
whereat Lady Jim laughed, and allowed him to fetch
and carry, and sit on his hind legs and bark prettily,
like a well-trained lap-dog. It amused her, and kept
him on tenterhooks. The only annoying thing was,
that Marjory seemed to care little for this annexation
of her lover. She much preferred a fox-hunting squire,
who talked "stables," and glowered on Askew for not
appreciating the dairy-maid.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 153
In this capture of another woman's man, Leah
combined pleasure with business. She did not wish to
spoil Jim's little game with the Spanish lady, and it would
never do for Askew to detail Mr. Berring's past in
a quarter where such betrayal would lead to trouble.
By this time the amorous sailor was the slave of beauty,
so Lady Jim was sufficiently mistress of his will to
limit his correspondence. This she did one evening
after dinner, while admiring Marjory's new frock.
"Yellow and green," murmured Leah, when she and
Askew filled up a corner, and watched frantic people
playing bridge; "poached egg on spinach. If you
design her gowns, Mr. Askew, I should advise a less
lavish use of primary colours."
"She means well," he muttered, apologetically.
"People who need excuses for existing always do,"
retorted Lady Jim; "but she is really a sweetly simple
girl, with two ideas, neither of which includes you, my
dear boy. I am sure you will be very happy together,
doing cake-walks."
"Doing cake-walks?"
"That sort of dress always makes me think of
South Carolina and the 'old Kentucky home,' you
know. They invented cake-walks there, I believe.
But I forgot—you prefer places below the equator."
"I never think of South America," he protested.
"Of course not. The jewel is more attractive than
the casket. When did you last hear from Senorita
Fajardo?"
"I never had a letter from her in my life."
"She is cautious, it seems. Are you i"
"I don't write to her, if that is what you mean. I
did love her"


154 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"What a polite thing to say to me!"
"But I don't any longer. You see, I thought that
Berring—your"
"There's nothing in that," said Lady Jim, quickly.
"There never really was, and if you really love this
estancia lady, why not marry her?"
"I am engaged already."
"To me, or to that pretty, vivacious girl over there?"
As Marjory was looking particularly like a wooden
Dutch doll at the moment, Askew reddened.
"I wish you wouldn't say these things, Lady
Jim"
"Lady James!"
"Lady James, then. Marjory can't help herself."
"It seems to me she has—to that intelligent young
man with the face like a sheep and the manners of a
costermonger."
"They were boy and girl together."
"And are still, from the infantile look of them. I
quite expect to see their nurse arrive. You know, it
won't do," said Leah, gravely; "here I am making fun
of Marjory, and you aren't man enough to stand up for
her."
The young man coloured still deeper, and mumbled
something about a woman's privilege. Shortly he made
a lame excuse, and left Leah to devote himself to
Marjory, who was not grateful for the attention.
Leah did not mind. She had learned that Askew did
not correspond with Lola Fajardo, and had no intention
of doing so; therefore there was little likelihood that
Jim's fettered past would ever become known at the
Estancia, San Jago. Being really a good-natured woman
with her affections thoroughly under control, Leah


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 155
half decided to loosen her apron-strings and let Askew
lead his bargain to the altar. But this she did not
do, for two obtrusive reasons. Firstly, the fox-hunting
squire and Marjory were made for one another; and
secondly, it would be just as well to keep the
sailor under her eye for the next year. She did not
wish him to hark back to Lima, for melodramatic
purposes.
Aiter a very pleasant visit, thanks to Askew's in-
fatuation, Lady Jim returned to Curzon Street. There
she found a letter from Demetrius announcing that
he and Garth had sailed for Madeira early in the
previous week, and that it would be as well if Lord
James Kaimes journeyed forthwith to Jamaica. Leah
promptly sent an answer to her accomplice at Funchal,
a telegram to Jim, a paragraph to a society paper,
and a lengthy letter of sorrowful forebodings to the
Duke. Then she sat down to wait events, and, mean-
while, considered the situation.
Pentland was all right, thanks to her cajoling.
Before she left Firmingham he bad arranged to free the
income, to pay the debts, and to allow her to occupy
the Curzon Street house until such time as Jamaica
should kill or cure Jim. That interesting invalid had
gone halves over the cheque, and Leah's purse still
contained over fifty pounds, which would do for the
present. But she intended to get a few hundreds from
the Duke, by playing off Jim's sickly looks and her
own lonely condition of grass-widowhood. It was really
very satisfactory, and she found it hard to look
miserable, as in duty bound, when Pentland arrived
to see the last of Jim. Leah arranged that the
parting between father and son should be in town.


156 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
She did not want to have a bereaved father bothering
at Southampton. The journey back to town after
Jim's dispatch would be boring at the best, and her
consolatory powers were not great.
"You look disgustingly fit," said Leah, when Jim
was established on the drawing-room sofa, with a rug
and a few unnecessary medicine bottles, and other
sick room paraphernalia.
"Sorry I can't be more of a corpse," growled the
invalid; "but it's not easy to pretend you're a goner,
when y' feel fit to jump over the moon."
"Try and cough louder," suggested his wife.
"Shan't! It hurts m' throat. Hang it, I've lost
three stone. I believe you want me dead in real
earnest."
Lady Jim thought for a moment. "No, I don't,"
she said, truly enough. "You haven't treated me over
well, and I should have been a different woman, had
you been a different man"
"Divorce court lingo," said Jim, remembering what
she had said at Firmingham, and with a derisive laugh.
"All the same, I hope you'll have a good time in
South America."
"Why not in Jamaica?"
"Because you've got to be thoroughly sick there.
Demetrius will come along later with Garth's corpse,
and"
"TJgh! Drop it! What about the money—my share?"
"I'll get the cash, as soon as you are sent home."
"Me? What for? Ain't I goin' to disappear?"
"Of course," said Le::h, impatiently; " but Demetrius
has to embalm your body and bring you home to the
family vault."


1.ADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 157
"I say, don't," cried Jim uneasily; "that's the other
Johnny you're talkin' about. Leah," he looked round
poor fellow, lie's a sort of relative of mine, y' know."
"Don't worry your head," said Lady Jim, calmly.
"Garth's dying as fast as he can; he may be dead
by this time, for all we know. And don't think that
I would allow Demetrius to be so wicked," she cried,
with virtuous indignation. "I'm not a criminal."
"Oh, Lord!" was all Jim could find to say, as he
thought of what they were doing, and conversation
ended for the time being. Leah went to the theatre
and supper at the Savoy that evening, leaving Jim
to practise coughing amongst the useless medicine
bottles.
Next day, Loth Peutland and his eldest son arrived
at eleven, and were informed by a sad-faced wife that
her dear husband would travel to Southampton by the
afternoon train. At the sight of Leah's dismal looks
and attentive care, Frith expressed his opinion that
women were protean.
"Never thought you cared so much for Jim," he
said bluntly.
"Oh, I don't for a moment say that I think Jim
is a good man," was Leah's artistic reply; "and we've
had our tiffs, like other married people. But Jim's
my husband, after all. And he has his good points."
"What are they?"
Lady Jim was not prepared with a catalogue of
her husband's perfections. "Oh, I don't know," she
murmured vaguely; "he drinks in moderation, you
know. That's something."
There's no virtue in resisting a non-existent
cautiously, "I hope Demetrius


158 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
temptation," said the Marquis, grimly. "Jim doesn't
come of a drinking family."
"Of a consumptive one, I believe," retorted Leah,
softly.
Frith was nettled at the implied slight. "Not at
all," he said, with unusual gruffness. "Look at me."
"But that poor Garth"
"Oh, he—I don't understand—and if you "Frith
coloured as he met her derisive eyes, and devoted
himself to his brother.
Lady Jim left the affectionate trio together, lengthen-
ing out their farewells, and retired, laughing, to her
room. It was really amusing to think that Jim, who
was as healthy as a trout in a pond, should be wept
over, and coddled, and pitied, and generally elevated
to a sainthood. The business was serious enough, no
doubt; but Leah could not help seeing the humorous
side. She felt unequal to keeping a grave face while
the comedy in the drawing-room was being played,
and therefore did not rejoin her husband till the
principal comedians had departed.
"We are a couple of rotters," said Jim, gloomily,
when she appeared.
"Speak for yourself, my dear," she retorted coolly.
"Well, and what did they say?"
"Never you mind. You'd only snigger over a father
takin' leave of his dyin' son."
"Oh! I did not know that the Duke had seen
Harold Garth."
"Leah," cried her husband, fiercely, "you're a—
never mind. Whatever you are, I'm another."
"Did the Duke leave a cheque for me!" asked Leah,
more business-like than sympathetic


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 159
Jim banged about among the medicine bottles. "Five
hundred."
"Dear man," cried his wife, snatching the cheque
from his very reluctant hand. "I must go and dress
for the journey."
"Won't you kiss me, Leah?" quavered Jim, really
moved, and quite forgetting the rascally plot in which
he was taking so prominent a part.
At the door she turned with an expression of
withering scorn. "Keep your kisses for your wife,
Mr. Burring!" cried this too-previous widow, and left
him to digest the insult at his leisure.


CHAPTER XIII
The paragraph sent by Leah to her pet editor inti-
mated concisely to the tuft-hunting world of Tom,
Dick, and Harriet, that the suddenly developed pulmo-
nary complaint of Lord James Kaimes necessitated his
wintering in Jamaica. This intelligence surprised the
clubs, as Jim's hectoring voice and devotion to damp
field sport had always suggested aggressively sound
lungs.
"Never knew him to be chippy in his life," growled
one man, who admired Leah as much as he hated Jim
for possessing her. "What's his game this time, I
wonder?"
"Perhaps he wants to get away from his wife,"
hinted a pigeon of Jim's plucking. "Bit of a tongue,
hasn't she?"
"Tongue be hanged! She has both wit and
beauty."
The pigeon sniggered, knowing the speaker's devotion
to Delilah. "Oh, Kaimes appreciates those qualities—
in another man's wife."
"Scandal! Seandal!" murmured a meek member,
blessed with a spouse whose looks prevented temptation.
"Kaimes has dined with us many times, but I never
saw"
"No; you wouldn't," struck in a sporting beronet,
160


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 161
whom Leah snubbod on every possible occasion. "Jim
likes red-haired women."
"Then why doesn't he stick to the one he's legally
entitled to?"
"Because she sticks to him. If she'd only syndicate
her admirers in the D. C, Jim 'ud be after hir like an
Indian mosquito in search of a new arrival. I'll bet
there's some petticoat in this Jamaica business"; and
the sportsman looked round for some one to pander to
his besetting sin—but no one gave him a chance of
committing it.
Contradiction and argument arrived with the oldest
inhabitant of Clubland, whose memory was as exas-
perating as his verbosity. "Wrong! All wrong," he
purred, like the tame cat he had been for half a century.
"Kaimes is really consumptive. I remember his grand-
mother dying of tuberculosis. It's in the family, along
with gout and water on the brain."
"Oh, bosh! If Jim was sick, he'd sin more
judiciously."
"I never knew that damnation depended upon
health," was the retort. "Take a case in point. During
the Great Exhibition"
Leah's admirer cut short a much-dreaded anecdote.
"She'll make a lovely widow."
"I don't believe in second-hand brides myself," said the
horsey man, venturing an epigram. "'Sides, her tongue—
cuts like a knife. Even the mares shy when she kicks."
"Wit! wit!" explained the admirer, who misread
French memoirs. "She is Madame de Rambouillet—
without a history."
"Hum! She hasn't published one yet, but I dare
say"
II


162 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Tut! tut!" interrupted the ancient. "Madamo
de Rambouillet was, and Lady James is, entirely
respectable."
"And the horse is the noblest of all animals,"
snapped the baronet.
"Maybe, though the beast doesn't improve your
morals," and the laugh was with the oldest inhabitant.
"Wonder if Kaimes will die," pondered the man who
saw Leah as a probable widow and a possible wife.
"Lay you ten to five he won't."
"You will lose; you will most assuredly lose," said
the octogenarian. "Very consumptive family, the
Kaimes. And our friend is just the sort of healthy
man to depart suddenly."
"Where to?" asked the pigeon.
"Hu-s-s-sh!" droned the meek member; "that's a
serious question."
"To Jim!" finished the racing man, smartly; "but
I don't care. Jim, dead or alive, is equally useless to
me."
"Oh! He isn't in your debt, then?"
"Catch me trusting him—not much. But what's
the use of talking obituary notices? Let's bridge."
"If your play is as bad as your grammar, I prefer
to stand out," said Methuselah, and the symposium
broke up, in time to prevent bickering between crabbed
age and irreverent youth.
There were many such talks during the nine minutes'
wonder of Jim's unexpected sickness, and it was gener-
ally considered that he would return in spirits of wine
to the family vault. Leah did not hear these en-
couraging prognostications, so conducive to the entire
success of the plot. She was tolerating life at San


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 163
Remo, under the hired roof of a truly great dame,
who wished to disentangle her from the golden nets
of ultra-fast society. A grass-widow has to be
more careful to keep up appearances than the genuine
crape article, even at the risk of being bored by highly
placed humanity, as dull as stainless. Lady Hengist
and her friends belonged to that seventh heaven
where newly rich Peris and the Mammons who cocker
them seek admittance in vain. Social laws differ from
those of nature, inasmuch as the gilded scum does
not invariably rise to the top. Hence the creation of
the over-discussed smart set, which is taken by the
suburban reader of back stairs journalism as repre-
sentative of the British aristocracy.
Lord Hengist came of an autochthonous family which
had been at home when William the Conqueror raided
the ancestral cabin. His wife was descended from a
knight who emigrated from Normandy in 1066, with
apparently several million others, judging by the claims
put forward by those who enter the peerage. This
alliance—they were too great to talk of mere marriage
—resulted in two children, not made of ordinary clay,
but compounded of the superlative porcelain sort.
Their parents possessed a genuine mediaeval castle,
as uncomfortable as the builders knew how to make it,
and which had the rare distinction of possessing a
state-bedroom in which Elizabeth had never slept.
The family archives read like the Book of Numbers,
and their ancestors had made history at opulent wages
for the benefit of the Hengist coffers. The men had
sided with the Stewarts and ratted to the Guelphs;
the women bloomed in Lely and Kneller portraits
in loosely slipping clothes, with pastoral accessories;


i64 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
and finally, the present head of the house, with four
seats, two children, a charming wife and a large income,
lived comfortably on the loot of ages. Of all these
things Lord and Lady Hengist were so proud that
they had no need to exhibit pride.
Well-born as Leah Kaimes was, the pleasant, if some-
what stately and stiff, life of these genuine rulers
wearied her intensely. Bread and milk is insipid after
a repast of ortolans in aspic, and a motor-flight is
more exhilarating than a donkey-ride. Moreover, it
annoyed her to see how sensibly the Hengists spent
their many pounds a day. They could have had much
more fun for the money, had they known the right
shops; but they patronised out-of-date establishments,
where the goods were of an excellent quality, but just
five minutes behind the newest things. Of course, this
was Leah's figurative way of saying that the Hengists
came out of the Ark. They always bought the wrong
things at the wrong shops, and had a middle-class eye to
the lasting quality of the goods they purchased. They
were clothed rather than dressed, and being colour-
blind, invariably chose garments which matched abom-
inably with their complexions. In a word, the Hen-
gists were so common-place as to be original. Lady Jim
could not understand why they should have been thrust
into positions which they could not fill. It was like
bringing cows into the drawing-room.
"It's so hard for me to taste the pleasures of self-
denial," complained Hengist, one day, as they sauntered
on the promenade.
"I don't think it is wise to attempt the extraction
of sunbeams from cucumbers," said Leah, dryly.
"Dean Swift said that, but he was an egotist,"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 165
replied Hengist, in his serious way, that reminded Lady
Jim of Lionel at his worst. "It is more blessed to
give than to receive, you know."
"Is it, indeed? Who said so?"
"The wisest and most loving of mankind. And it
is a true saying. I assure you, that if I deny myself
something I greatly desire, and send the money which
would have purchased the gratification to a charity, I
feel absolutely happy."
"I don't think I ever tried that experiment."
"You will not know true happiness till you do, Lady
James."
"Then I must make a bid for Paradise," she
answered, privately thinking that the man talked sad
nonsense.
"It's a dreadful thing to be able to have the moon
for the asking," went on Hengist, reflectively.
"That's your epigrammatic way of putting it, I sup-
pose; but the moon won't drop from her sphere for me,
howl as I may. You are very lucky to command the
planet, Lord Hengist."
"So the world thinks, but it forgets that there is the
curse of satiety."
"Is there? I never knew it existed. I only wish
I could cram the twelve hours of the day with twenty-
four of pleasure."
"Have you ever had everything you wished for, Lady
James?"
"No!" said Leah, promptly. "I'd have the sun as
well as the moon, and the stars thrown in, if I had my
way."
"Only to be bored by the acquisition of the lot."
"Me bored—oh dear no! I am too stupid. It is


166 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
only clever people like yourself who suffer from ennui.
I only wish I were a Roman empress, with provinces
for a dowry. Those dear women knew how to live."
"But in the majestic pages of Gibbon"
"Who? Ob, that man who came to think he was
the Roman Empire. Now his work would bore me—
I'm not stupid enough to appreciate him."
"Julia"—this was Lady Hengist—"Julia and I
read Gibbon during the honeymoon, and received much
instruction."
"Oh, Lord !" said Lady Jim; "as though honeymoons
were not disagreeable enough without that!" The idea
made her laugh consumedly. In her mind's eye she
saw this new Paolo and Francesca reading heavy prose
in ten volumes. But llengist did not even smile—he
had absolutely no sense of humour. Besides, he con-
sidered his companion's chatter painfully frivolous, and
sighed to think that she had such a light nature. Leah,
still laughing, glanced sideways. "I shall begin to
think you are discontented, Lord Hengist."
"I am, that I cannot do the good I should like to
do. Both Julia and I wish to benefit mankind."
"The twelve labours of Hercules, with no thanks for
their accomplishment."
"We don't want thanks, but results," said Hengist,
austerely; "and we can commence in a small way.
Next summer we intend to invite five hundred White-
chapel children to the Castle. Will you come and help
us to entertain them, Lady James?"
"Delighted," yawned Leah, for the man spoke like
a copy-book; "but I hope you'll wash them first. It
will prevent disease, and give some new soap a phil-
anthropic advertisement."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 167
Hengist eyed her suspiciously. He was a very, very
dull young lord, large-hearted and unintelligent, who
took life so seriously that he had almost forgotten how
to laugh. England clean, England contented, England
happy. He constantly started crusades to bring on a
premature millennium, and earned his reward, after the
manner of reformers, by being abused in halfpenny
newspapers as one who attempted to avert certain
revolution, by stuffing the starving with sweets. Lady
Jim thought him a bore and a prig, and too virtuous
to be amusing. But that he and his wife were of use
to her, she would not have endured this presentation
of his year beforc-Iast's Tree-of-Knowledge apples. He
never plucked fresh fruit, and his Eve was quite as
blind as he in discerning up-to-date harvests. Still,
Hengist was a sort of bell-wether, leading a flock of
prize sheep towards a closely guarded fold. Leah liked
the fun and money and adulation of the smart set, but
she had no notion of being a shut-out Peri from that
dull paradise that the newly rich longed for. Besides,
its very dullness gave a fillip to her enjoyment of the
larky amusements of those who could not enter the
sacred ark.
"I am really very fond of children," she said, to do
away with the effect of her last remark. "I wish I
had some myself," and she sighed very prettily. "Hilda
Frith is more fortunate than I, with her two dear
babies."
"Both girls. I fancy Frith would like a son and
heir."
"I'm sure he would, and both Jim and I would be
the very first to congratulate him."
"Your husband is next in succession?"
%


168 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Yes, poor dear! But Frith is strong and healthy,
'while darling Jim—oh, I can't bear to talk about it."
Th:'s was perfectly true. To invent sentimental
domestic histories and bewail a husband she detested
was difficult, even to a woman of Leah's imagination
and tact. But Hengist thought it was very good of
her to talk so generously, and paid her serious compli-
ments till she began to think that some unpardonable
ein had thrown her into the society of this prosing
creature. It was like reading the dictionary, or drink-
ing Homburg waters, or paying bills. The sight of
a friend made her gasp with relief, after the maimer
of a pearl-diver rising to take the air.
"Here's Lady Richardson and Sir Billy," she said
with a frown, for her companion's benefit. "So horrid,
to interrupt our nice conversation!"
"We can pass them," replied Hengist, decidedly
pleased.
"Oh, I don't think so," was Leah's quick reply. "It
would look rude; and then, Fanny Richardson never
passes any one who will listen to her prattle of chiffons.
Besides, Billy is a nice boy—quite a little man. Don't
you think so 1"
"Too much a man for his years," said her companion,
austerely. "I do not like Chesterfields in their teens.
The lad's manners are too good—much too good."
"Can any child be much too good?"
"In the wrong way of over artificiality, yes. Sir
William"
"He likes to be called Sir Billy!"
"So flippant. His mother should insist"
"She! She never insists on anything, except having
the newest dye and the best-cut frock, and a few dozen


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 169
male ears to pour her babble into. Billy can do no
wrong in her eyes, nor in mine. He is such an admirer
of women."
"And at the age of thirteen," groaned Hengist.
"Come now, even you must have made love to
some pretty pastry-cook's daughter when you were at
Eton. There must be some of the old Adam in you,
Lord Hengist."
"I was never an entirely modern child," replied the
serious man, evasively, and with a sad eye on the trim
figure of the rapidly approaching Billy. "To think that
he should take dinner pills, and know the difference
between sweet and dry champagne! What will the
next generation be?"
"Boys and girls," said Leah, flippantly. "Good day,
Fanny."
The vivacious little fairy who warmly greeted Lady
Jim and her solemn escort was as pretty and fragile
and dainty as a Dresden china shepherdess, and quite
a credit to the maid who re-created her every morning.
There was nothing natural about hor, save her genuine
adoration of Billy, and that arose from a knowledge
that royalty had mnde it fashionable to exploit the
nursery. Blonde and plump, jimp and graceful, dressed
in perfect taste, and coloured in the latest fashion,
she was popular even with her own discriminating sex.
Hengist thought her a respectable doll, with no par-
ticular vices, and did not object to having her at the
Castle. But he disapproved of Billy the precocious,
which was decidedly unfair, as Billy could scarcely help
shaping himself to the mould into which he had been
slipped by a mother who required his assistance to
pl.\y the pretty comedy of the widow's only son.


170 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"How are you, Leah darling? So sweet you look, and
Lord Hengist too. A most unexpected meeting, and so
delightful," babbled Lady Richardson, who talked more
and said less than any society gramophone. "Billy
and I are just going to Monte Carlo, to plunge on the
red. Reggy Lake is to meet us at the station; such
a nice boy—Lancers, you know—a great chum of i illv'a.
Won't you come too, Leah, to brighten Billy up? He's
got the hump, poor boy, as his new nerve-tonic doesn't
suit him, and such a lovely, lovely day as it is too.
Don't you think so, Lord Hengist?"
The respectable Hengist's hair bristled at this inco-
herent speech, and did not he down again at the look
in Billy's eyes. Dressed in a particularly smart Eton
suit, gloved and silk-hatted and patent-leather-booted
with fashionable accuracy, the boy appraised Lady
Jim's beauty in a calm way, which would have made
a captain of dragoons blush. Behind his graceful,
nonchalant, handsome mask of youth was hidden an
old, old man, and in many ways Hengist was his
junior. He certainly blushed when Leah gave him an
amused glance, but this was Billy's way of mashing
the sex. He knew the value of youthful diffidence,
backed by mature knowledge.
"Should not your little boy be at school?" asked
Hengist, scandalised into an implied snub.
Sir William looked at the troubled face of his
elder with the serenity of a cherub. "Goin' back nex'
week," said he, carefully dropping his " g's." "Th' little
mother wanted me to look after her for a bit."
"Billy can't trust me out of his sight," giggled
Lady Richardson. "He's so afraid I'll give him a
second father."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 171
"Not Reggy Lake, anyhow. He's a rotter!"
"What's a rotter, Sir Billy?" asked Lady Jim,
enjoying the disgusted looks of Hengist.
"A fellow who rots."
"What an admirable definition?"
Billy rapidly dropped his left eyelid, and showed
a, set of white teeth. "I don't carry coals to your
Newcastle," he said parabolically. "Say, Lady Jim,
chuck this chappy, and come to Charlie's Mount."
The wink and the speech were lost on Hengist, for
he was being worried by Lady Richardson. She
danced before him, a pretty figure gowned in burnt-
almond red, and would have distracted his heart with
daintiness but that Julia kept that article in the
nursery.
"Do join us, Lord Hengist," she pleaded seductively.
"Such fun, when you know the ropes. Billy can
show them to you."
"Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings," quoted
Hengist, ironically. "Quite a new reading, Lady
Richardson."
"Now you are horrid," said the widow, who did
not know in the least what he meant. "I'll tell your
wife. By the way, how is she, and the darling, darling
twins? Twins are too sweet. I wish Billy was a twin."
"One of Sir William is quite sufficient."
"I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about,
and it's very horrid of you to say so. Billy is adored."
"Is he ever whipped?"
Lady Richardson gave a scream. "How barbarous!
The man who tried to whip Billy would have to order
his coffin beforehand. Billy can handle bis bunches
of fives, I can tell you, Lord Hengist."


172 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"His what?"
"It's Billy's way of putting boxing. You should
see him give the postman's knock! Oh, he is clever!
He can drive a motor, too, and pick out the winner
five times out of ten."
"Does he know the kings of England?"
"No; he hasn't been to Court yet, and of course,
there's only one. How funny you are! Well," Lady
Kichardson put her head on one side like a coaxing
cock-robin, "are you coming with Billy and me? Do,
oh do! We have afternoon tea with Monsieur Aksakoff
and his daughter."
"What's that ?" asked Leah, overhearing the names;
"the Russian man?"
"Stiff sort of fella'!" said young Eton. "Nothin'
birdish about him. Daughter's a clipper, though. Say,
little mother, we'd best get. Th' train won't wait,
y' know."
Before he had finished speaking Lady Jim had made
up her mind. She had not heard from Demetrius,
and it was not impossible that he had wiitten to
Katinka. In spite of his discouraging love-making he
kept in with her, on the chance that she might be
able to procure his pardon, and in any case she was
useful in keeping him posted in the doings of the Third
Section. The girl was so infatuated that she never
saw he was making use of her in this way, and con-
stantly wrote to him about any official gossip she heard.
There was something pathetic in her devotion and
heart-whole love for the man who deceived her. But
Leah did not look at the matter in this way. She
knew that Katinka, if any one, would have news of
the doctor, and being anxious to learn how Garth


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 173
was progressing towards the grave, she turned to
Hengist.
"I think I'll go over," she said in a low voice. "Jim
asked me to see M. Aksakoff on some business. Would
Julia mind?"
"Not at all,' said Hengist, heartily, and quite
deceived. "I would escort you,, only I L> . some letters
to write about the distress in London."
"Oh, Billy will look after us," said that young
gentleman's mother.
"I have driven a team before now," observed Billy,
with dignity.
Hengist gave him a reproving look (which Billy
bore very stoically), and whispered to Leah as they
parted, " Don't encourage that lad."
"I don't think he needs much encouragement," said
Lady Jim, laughing, and the two women walked away
with Billy between them. Hengist stood where he
was and frowned.
"Charming woman, Lady James," he murmured,
gazing after Leah's amethystine gown; "but that lad—
ugh!" He shook his head over young England up-to-
date; then returned to the villa to hear the twins
say the alphabet. Life had its compensations, even for
a millionaire peer.


CHAPTER XIV
After the happy-go-lucky fashion of Italian officialism,
the train was detained for some time at Ventimiglia.
Lady Richardson, unsettled as a fly, changed her seat
five times, and complained garrulously.
"Captain Lake is so very particular," she explained,
producing a pocket-mirror and a powder-puff to repair
possible damages. "He can't bear to be kept waiting
five minutes."
"Then I should make him wait five hours," replied
Leah, calmly. "It doesn't do to spoil men."
"You spoil me," said Sir Billy, audaciously.
"Pooh! You are merely a rascal in the making. I
wouldn't hint how we govern your sex, if you were
anything but a grub."
The boy laughed complacently. "I'm a very nice
grub."
ii Very precocious, at all events. You know much
more than is good for you. Fanny, you should whip him."
"I haven't the heart or the muscle, my dear. The
only safe thing will be to marry a strong man with a
bad temper."
"I should jolly well like to see the stepfather who
would pitch into me."
"You will, if you don't behave. Isn't that eyebrow
a little crooked, Billy?" and she fingered it delicately,
«74


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 175
"Don't think so; but you have a smudge of powder
on your chin."
"So I have. How horrid! There !" dusting it off.
"What a comfort you are to your darling mammy, my
own! Kiss me."
Billy brushed her rouge with careful lips, and after
a glance to see that he had not blurred the picture,
Lady Richardson put away the mirror.
"Thank goodness, we're moving again," she prattled.
"I do hope Reggy won't be in a bad temper."
"I'll square that, little mother. Eeen to the theatres
lately, Lady Jim?"
"No," answered Leah, amused by his man-about-
town air. "Is there anything good on?"
"Awful stuff," announced Billy, with the conviction
of mature judgment. "Couldn't sit out more than two
plays. The Woman with Three Husbands isn't bad,
though. Very French, of course. Saw it four times
before I told the little mother she couldn't face it."
"How alluring! Will }'ou take me 1"
Billy was obviously shocked. "No woman should see
that piece. I can stand heaps, but "an after-me-the-
deluge shrug hinted at the degradation of the diama.
"Yes, poor darling," chimed in his mother; "he was
blushing three inches deep all over when he came home."
"I am glad to hear that Billy can blush at all,"
murmured Lady Jim. "How's the betting, William?"
"Tolerable! I pulled off a liver on Fly-by-Night;
but a man in my form lost a tenner, silly juggins."
"Oh! How old is that man 3"
"Sixteen, and thinks he's twenty. Awfully saucy
chap though. Went nap on a girl, and another fella'
fccooped th' pool."


176 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Don't they teach English at Eton, Billy?"
The youth was quite undisturbed. "Try to," he
assured her; "but there's no snap about the classical rot
they give us. Oh, here we are."
"And there is Reggy," cried Lady Richardson, craning
her dyed head out of the window like another Jezebel.
"How d'y do, Captain Lake? Lovely day! So sorry
we're late. You know Lady James Kaimes?"
"I have that pleasure," said the tall young soldier,
saluting. "Very sorry to hear your husband is ill,
Lady James."
"Thanks! But I daresay Jamaica will pull him
round, Captain Lake."
"Hope it won't," breathed Billy, at her elbow, as the
lift soared.
"Why, you horrid little boy?"
"There'll be a chance for me."
"No, no! You're too much of a general lover,
Billy."
"Girls do run a man so hard, nowadays," observed
Billy, pathetically.
"It was different in your youth, no doubt. But I
am not a girl, and quite old enough to box the ears of
conceited urchins."
"Do !—if you'll let me give you a kiss for a blow."
"What precocious Christianity! You had better
apply to that pretty American girl near the Casino
door."
"Miss Mamie Mulrady? Oh, I can get her kisses
without fightin'. Not bad-lookin', is she? Lots of tin,
an' as spry as they make 'em. There's th' little mother
an' that rotter chippin' mic on' Casino. Shall we
follow, Lady Jim?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 177
They were stopped on the steps hy Miss Mulrady,
who knew both, and claimed acquaintance through a.
wholly unnecessary lorgnette. She was a vivacious
Wild West product, who exaggerated the vernacular,
because Europeans expected to find the Californian girl
of fiction in real life. Her exaggerated slang was
assumed out of sheer amusement, and she greatly
enjoyed the amazed looks of those who heard her talk
good Anglo-Saxon, which she did, when she escaped
from fools to forgather with wise men.
"How are you, Miss Mulrady?" asked Billy solemnly.
"Keepin' afloat, I guess, but that's about all. The
dollars I've lost buckin' the tiger would have bought
me a dozen husbands."
"Foreign ones are cheap, I believe," said Leah,
admiring the prairie-flower's Paris frock more than her
republican manner.
"You make me smile. I'm goin' to run tandem
with Sir Billy here—me first and he the wheeler."
"No go," said the boy, quite able to hold his own.
"I'm not goin' to marry a Bret Harte girl."
"Oh, do," replied Miss Mulrady, in the purest of
English, and placing two small gloved hands together.
"I'll be a wife and a mother in one."
"What economy!" smiled Lady Jim. "Are you
coming into the 'devil's parlour'?"
"Later. I'm waiting for Mr. Askew."
Leah started. She thought that Askew was safe in
Shropshire, making attempts to civilise the fixture.
"Harry Askew?"
"That's so," assented Miss Mulrady, relapsing into
her Wild West vocabulary, and with a keen look. "He
called on Mommo an' me, when he was cruisin' out


178 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
'Frisco way. We're negotiatin' a system to break this
old bank."
"You evidently wish to be popularised in a song,"
said Lady Jim, languidly. "How long has Mr. Askew
been devoting his energies to such things?" This with
an angry reflection that he had not called on her.
"You might reckon it twenty-four hours," said the
American, admiring her pointed brown shoe. "He's
here for his health."
"I've heard that excuse before, with regard to Monte
Carlo."
"Shouldn't wonder. We ticket our sins best sugar.
Sir Billy, come along an' buy me candy at the stores."
"But your man, Miss Mulrady—the Askew chap?"
"Lady Jim an' I 'ull swap humans. What say?" and
she looked at Leah, mischievously overdoing the slang.
"I never swap what isn't my own property,"
answered Lady Jim, considering this offer too Western,
and resenting the familiarity to the extent of walking
into the Casino with her head very much in the air.
America could hold her own with the mother-country,
and Leah did not approve.
"She wants to be the whole show an' the box-office,"
murmured Mamie, mischievously. "Stay here, Bub."
"I am sorry to refuse a lady," replied Billy, resenting
the word; "but I've put my money on Lady Jim, this
trip."
"On the red—hair, you mean. Go bye-bye with
your nurse, then. Here's Mr. Askew, he's older than
you."
"And easier to please," snapped the youth, much
offended. "You'll excuse me, Miss Mulrady, but a man
can't keep a woman waitin'."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 179
He retired into what Lady Jim called the "devil's
parlour" with a Floreat Etona air, and Miss Mulrady,
after a glance at the ears which she longed to box
soundly, turned to receive a breathless apology from
the belated Askew.
"There's a friend of yours gone in to sin for an
hour," said she, when a treaty was concluded.
"I have so many friends—so-called."
"Of the high-toned gilt-edged sort, with red
scalps?"
Askew comprehended in a second. "Lady Jim," he
stammered; "yes, I heard that she was at San Remo.
What's she doing here?"
"Visitin' the sick an' the poor," said Mamie, shrewdly.
"It's what folks come to Monte for. Guess, she best
drop in on you—a sickrr man I never saw, an' you'll
be poor enough by th' time we're through with this
old system of yours. I know a bank where th' wild
time goes. You may look all through Bacon without
findin' that remark—it's my own. Let's get."
Thus, with barbaric japes, did the child of nature
lead her companion into the gilded halls of iniquity,
and the two jostled the well-dressed crowd which
circulated round the tables. The silence was that of
an arctic night, save for the droning voices of the
croupiers, and at times a hurried whisper of joy or
dismay.
"Goin' in for rouge et noir with Lady Jim?" asked
Miss Mulrady, alluding to the hair of Askew and his
friend; "or perhaps she's sportin' on treute et quarante,
to suit her years."
"She's under thirty," growled Askew, crossly.
"An' you're under the weather, considerable," retorted


i8o LADY JiM OF CURZON STREET
the American, sharply. "Get up steam an' fizzle a bit,
can't you 1"
"Shall I war-whoop, or dance a horn-pipe?"
"Keith; ri ) prefer originality."
"Try the system, then"; and Askew pushed his
way through the Mammon-worshippers to where the
roulette ball wheekd its fatal round.
Lady Jim did not play. She had stupidly forgotten
her peacock's feather and could not risk loss with her
small capital. But Billy, having the audacity and luck
of innocence, was at hand, so she gave him five hundred
francs to experiment.
"We'll halve the winnings."
"Never take money from a woman," said Billy, gravely,
"but I don't mind a fly. Got any sportin' number?"
"Thirteen, because that's your age. There is Made-
moiselle Aksakoff, I wish to speak to her"; and she
moved gracefully towards the tall, pale girl, while Young
Iniquity, with the air of a Vanderbilt, planked her
money on the odd number.
Katinka Aksakoff grew crimson when Lady Jim
saluted her, and would have evaded the meeting if
possible. She might have been a nun from the looks
of her, and was garbed in unrelieved black, which
Leah concluded was mourning for unrequited affection.
After that fleeting wave of colour, her thin, oval face
grew marble white, and a pair of dark questioning
eyes appeared twice as large and three times as
brilliant as they had been before resting on Lady
Jim's gracious smile.
"So glad to meet you," murmured Leah, as they
shook hands in the air. "Lady Kichardson and I
have come to tea. Where is your father?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 181
"He is talking with the German ambassador,"
replied Katinka, without a smile, and with Siberian
coldness.
"So fortunate. We can chat without interruption."
"I scarcely think we have much to chat
about."
"Oh yes," rejoined Lady Jim, with perfect good-
humour. "When you learn how you misjudge me, we
shall get on capitally."
"Pardon. I do not understand."
"Probably not, since I have yet to make my explana-
tion. Let us walk on the terrace, and you can throw
me over, to where they shoot the pigeons, if my
conversation displeases you."
"Ah, but it is so strange!"
"And so necessary—to your peace of mind."
"No!" Mademoiselle AksakofFs face grew scarlet
once more, and she pressed her hand to her heart, as
though she felt there a cruel pain. Perhaps she did,
poor soul! But the stoicism of the Slav enabled her to
summon up a wry smile, and to bow her bond, as she
followed her brilliant rival. With the excess of an
ill-governed, passionate heart did she hate this woman;
but as a Niobe, frozen and cold, did she appear when
they were pacing the teriace. And not one single word
of her companion's sugared speech was she prepared to
believe.
Leah's eyes rested appreciatively on the varied
beauty of God's work and man's improvements. The
huddled white houses of Monaco crowned its giant
rock, which bulked hugely against the blended azure of
sea and sky. The placid waters ringed its base with
foam, and stretched with sparks and dashes of fire


182 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
towards an immeasurable horizon. Landward bnnched
the red roofs of the town, below arid and precipitous
heights, soaring massively into the radiant and ever-
deepening blue. A balmy wind, like some invisible
alchemist, changed the sombre green of the olive-groves
to patches of glittering silver. Near at hand spread
the lustrous foliage of lemon- and orange-trees, nor was
wanting the almond-blossom of the far east. They
walked under palms suggestive of Bedouin life, and, to
the well-read, of Heine's sad little song, immortal and
heart-rendingly true. Roses and violets, and flowers of
many shapes and hues, bordered the terrace; the wide
sea laughed at their feet, and behind them rose the
palatial structure of the Casino, gorgeous as the
Golden House of Nero. It was Fairyland, and Lady
Jim said so to her sad companion, who was too blinded
by love to see beauty anywhere when the beloved was
absent.
"We can talk in French, if you like," said Leah, after
she had paid her tribute to nature.
"In English, I think," replied the Russian girl; "my
father wishes me to speak only your tongue, while
we remain in London, so that I may improve."
"You can't," answered Leah, genuinely compli-
mentary. "Your accent is much better than a born
English person; also your grammar, and your choice of
words."
"We take the trouble to learn your language, whereas
you English do not."
"We're too busy annexing the world to bother about
philological lessons," said Lady Jim, remembering
Heine's remark anent the Romans.
"Possibly," assented Katinka, with a chilling smile;


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 183
"but, interesting as this conversation is, I do not see its
necessity."
"Monsieur Demetrius," began Leah, abruptly, when
Mademoiselle raised a protesting hand.
"We need not speak of him, madame."
"Why not? He is a mutual friend. I know you
fancy"
"I fancy nothing," interrupted the other, haughtily.
"Words are not needed where he is concerned."
"But explanations are. You think that I love
Demetrius!"
Katinka flushed painfully, and she put her hand
suddenly to her throat.
"I forbid you to speak," she said, in a stifled voice.
"Nonsense. We are not in Russia, where people kneel
down and say please. Besides, it is necessary for your
peace of mind that you should hear what I have to say."
"You made that remark before, Lady James."
"True, and I make it again, to emphasise my meaning,
though I hate repetition. Demetrius loves you."
"No, no! It is you who"
"Pish! His heart is yours; his science mine."
"His science!" Mademoiselle AksakofT looked sur-
prised.
"What else do you think attracted me? I am an
English cat, and I have no lovers. Do you remember
La Fontaine's fable?"
"Lady James, be plain with me."
"I am trying to be. You think that I love Demetrius,
and that he is devoted to me. It is not so."
Katinka winced. She did not like such plain speaking,
and, moreover, doubted its truth. "If I could think so,
I would"


184 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Of course you can think so," said Lady Jim, amiably.
"Demetrius is particularly clever in curing consumptive
diseases. For that reason I conversed with him a great
deal. My husband is very ill, and I wanted the doctor
to cure him. If Demetrius thought that my liking for
his society meant anything else, he is an egotist. My
advice is, that you should procure his pardon and marry
him."
"There are obstacles in the way."
"I am not one, T assure you."
"Are you speaking honestly i"
"I am!" and the eyes of the two women met.
Katinka searched the hard blue orbs of the gnat lady
with painful intensity, and Leah bore the scrutiny with
the knowledge that her conduct had been, and always
would be, perfectly correct. Had she been the least
in love with the doctor, she would not have dared to
submit to that probing, painful gaze. Women may
deceive mere men; they cannot deceive one another,
especially in affairs of the heart. When Katinka
withdrew her eyes she was satisfied that Lady Jim
cared nothing for Demetrius. Without explanation,
she burst into rapid and wrathful speech, and Leah's
feminine perspicacity enabled tier to guess the unuttered
preamble, which a man would have required to be put
into words.
"Why then do you lure him to your feet ?" cried the
Russian girl, in a sharp, pained voice. "If you love him
not, why torture him, and me? I know he loves you—
I know—I know—oh yes, I know."
"You do not. His love for me—if it can be called
so—is the mere passing fancy of a man for a woman
who has been kind to him."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 185
"Too kind," muttered Katinka, vengefully.
"Not at all. But men are so conceited that they
think a woman's smile means a woman's love. You
have a golden heart, yet you throw it into the greedy
hands of this selfish egotist"
"He is not that," gasped the girl.
"Yes, he is, and much worse. Demetrius possesses
the selfishness of a woman and the vanity of a man."
"You reverse the proper order."
"No, I don't. Men are far vainer than women, and
women more selfish than men. I'm selfish myself,
therefore I am happy. You are one of those self-
tormenting, self-denying angels, who make men what
they are—vain, greedy, conceited, lord-of-creation beasts.
And I insult the beasts by such a comparison."
"I thought you liked men."
"I use them, and I detest them," retorted Lady Jim,
speaking more plainly than was her custom. "There are
good men—I don't deny that, for I know one at least"—
she was thinking of Lionel; "but che majority—ugh!
God help the women like yourself, who give their
hearts into the keeping of such animals!"
"You love your husband, surely."
M We all love our husbands—it's part of the Church
Service to love them. Pah !—I am not here to talk of
my marriage, but of yours. You know now that I
don't care for Demetrius, and that I desired his help
merely for my husband's sake."
"Yes. I have wronged you "; and Katinka put out
her hand.
Lady Jim took it, rather softened. "You poor child,
how foolish you are! Why not forget Demetrius I"
"I cannot."


186 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"He is not worthy of you."
"Is he not 1—ah, you don't know him."
Leah smiled grimly. "I know him much better than
you do. However, if you insist upon putting him on an
imaginary pedestal, there is no more to be said. Have
you heard from him lately?"
Mademoiselle Aksakoff was now quite deceived, and
looked upon Lady Jim as her dearest and best friend.
"Last week I received a letter from Funchal," she said
eagerly. "Yes; I wrote to him about the chances of
his pardon"
"Are there any changes?"
"Yes, yes; I assure you—yes. I have a cousin,
high in favour with the Czar, who can procure an
immediate pardon. But my father does not wish me
to marry Demetrius"
"Wise man," murmured Leah.
"And so there is some difficulty. Oh "—she clasped
her hands—" if Constantine would only be guided by
me! He comes of a rich family, and has the title of
Prince"
"So he told me."
"Ah, but did he say how he had parted from his
family because of his advanced ideas? He gave up
money and rank, and all that makes life pleasant, to
labour among the poor peasants. Is that not noble?"
"So noble that I have difficulty in thinking M.
Demetrius acted so."
"But he did—he did. And my father is angered
because of this silf-sacrifice. If Constantine would only
return to the rank of life in which he was born, my
father would permit me to marry him, and then the
pardon would speedily be procured. But I plead in


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 187
vain," she murmured, with hanging head "he will not
listen."
"He may, when he returns," volunteered Lady Jim,
kindly.
"But when will that be? If he goes to Jamaica"
Leah turned suddenly white. "Why to Jamaica 1"
she asked sharply.
"He wrote that the Duke of Pentland had asked him
to go there, to see after your husband. And you say
that"
"Yes, yes; but this patient Garth, who"
Katinka looked surprised. "But have you not
heard I"
"Heard i I have heard nothing. I do not correspond
with M. Demetrius, my dear. It is now April, and he
has been at Funchal since January, trying to heal that
poor man. Has he?"
"No," said Mademoiselle Aksakoff, quickly. "The
man is dead."
"Gai th dead?" Lady Jim sat down, with a gasp.
"Yes; so Demetrius wrote last week, and said he
would go on to Jamaica at the Duke's request to see
your Husband. But you look quite i!L"
"I hate to bear of deaths," said Lady Jim, viciously.
She certainly spoke truly with regard to this particular
death. In her mind lurked a dread lest Demetrius
had assisted nature, after alL


CHAPTER XV
Monsieur Aksakoff owned a toy villa, pleasantly
placed amongst orange-groves and lemon-gardens, on
the outskirts of Fools' Paradise. Hither, somewhere
about the hour of five, trooped a gay party, of which
Katinka was not the least merry. So unaccountable
were her spirits, that the majority judged her to be
what the Scotch aptly call "fey." Lady Jim, in the
minority, knew better. A recollection of the recent
interview explained the girl's dancing on a possible
grave.
Leah had subjugated one of her own suspicious sex.
This is a rare miracle; rarer still, it had been achieved
by truth-telling. Certainly, with inevitable female re-
servation, Lady Jim had not told the whole truth and
nothing but the truth; but then, her knowledge did
not include the shibboleth of oath-taking. She did
not love Demetrius—no avowal could have been more
honest. Still, his medical acquirements had scarcely
induced the flirtation which Katinka resented, and
in saying so she swerved from the path of rectitude.
Nevertheless, that ingenuous explanation of the illegal
apron-string deceived Mademoiselle Aksakoff into
believing that Truth had really been dragged, un-
clothed and impeccable, from her well.
The result may be guessed. From cold hostility,
188


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 189
Katinka, ignorant of the golden mean, melted into
warm friendship: the sadness of unrequited love was
replaced by the allurements of hope, and the hitherto
dreary unpeopled world became an Arcadia of magical
beauty, through which there ever moved a possible
bridegroom. The colour returned to her wan cheeks,
the light to her dark eyes, and in pLice of a listless
nun the astonished father beheld a dancing, laughing
nymph. Clever as Aksakoff was, he failed to under-
stand the why and the wherefore of this transformation.
Being a diplomatist, he searched for the magician who
had accomplished its wonders; being mere man, he
naturally espied the obvious. The unexpected presence
of Demetrius, as he concluded, was responsible for the
breathing of life into this statue.
Lady Jim guessed his explanation, and was amused
by his inquiring looks. She promised herself the
pleasure of making things clear, in such a way as
would compel confidences on his part. These might
be useful in averting the wrath of Demetrius, when
he came to know that his reward was withheld. And
Leah was not unreasonable in anticipating trouble
of the worst, seeing that the doctor had already
loaded her with a portion of a debt which she did
not intend to pay. Garth was dead. That part of
the task had been accomplished. Now, Katinka
informed her that Demetrius was bound for Jamaica.
There he would arrange for the obliteration of
Jim, and return with a substituted corpse to console
the afflicted widow. The widow herself shivered at
the prospect of being honest and tangibly grateful;
and, since the possible was rapidly becoming the
probable, began to consider means of evasion. But


igo LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
it was no easy matter to nullify the bond of a semi-
oriental Shylock.
With a diplomatist, superadded to a father, for
an ally, and with tricky Muscovite politics to play
with, Lady Jim fancied that her end might be obtained.
But, although she knew the goal, she could not see
the most direct and least dangerous way to gain it
Her path was perplexing and perilous, so it was
necessary to find a finger-post. She thought that
Aksakoff might stand for such, since he would do much
to neutralise the chance of his daughter's marriage
with Demetrius. But to enlist him on her side, and
in her schemes, required a private conference, and
plainer speaking than Lady Jim approved of. How-
ever, as there was no opportunity of private speech
for at least one hour, she had time to construct feasible
plans.
Meanwhile, her silence over the tea-cups was re-
markable in so lively a lady. Certainly, Garth might
have died in tho orthodox manner, as ample time had
been given for his exit. On the other hand, Demetrius,
eager for his reward, might have—but no; she could
not bear to think of such a horror, and employed her
will to deny the possibility. Nevertheless, strive as
she would to banish the thought, it returned again
and a:ain, insistent and terrifying. No wonder Askew
was moved to ask if she felt unwell, and no wonder
she protested, with unnecessary emphasis, that she
never felt better in her life.
"I am gathering instruction from the conversation
of others," she assured him, when he urged smelling-
salts.
"But you are so extraordinarily pale."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 191
"I have parted with my colour to Mademoiselle
Aksakoff. See, she blooms like an artificial rose."
"Why artificial? Her bloom is natural."
"And her spirits are forced. A hothouse is Nature's
corset."
"I don't know what you mean," said Askew, bluntly;
"you are a puzzle."
"Which is as much as to say that I am a woman.
I wish you would cease personalities and refill my
glass."
This sounded more bacchanalian than it was, for the
glass contained nothing more destructive to the nerves
than straw-coloured tea, prepared, milldess, in the
Russian manner, with plenty of sugar and a squeeze
of lemon. Katinka presided over a samovar, and
dispensed caviare sandwiches, so that the meal was
entirely Muscovite. Aksakoff, stiff and pale and lean,
precisely dressed and watchful as a cat, paid diplomatic
compliments to Lady Richardson, while Captain Lake
laughed with Katinka. Miss Mulrady had annexed
a flattering vicomte who wanted money in exchange
for a name which dated from the Crusades, and Askew
hovered, like the silly moth he was, round Lady Jim's
superfine wax candle. This possible tragedy of singed
wings doubly and trebly assured Katinka of Leah's
honesty, for who could love the demi-god Demetrius
and trifle with a nautical butterfly? Thus did she
argue, crediting her once rival and now ally with the
infatuation which, in Fairyland, made Titania clip
Bottom in her arms.
"The air of this place suits you," said Lake, wonder-
ing at this bubbling gaiety; "you were pale and sad
when we last met, Mademoiselle."


192 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"I may be the same when we meet again," she
replied, refilling Lady Jim's glass. "What would you?
Moods are agreeable."
"Hum! I don't choose April as the most enjoyable
month of the year."
Katinka laughed meaningly, and glanced slyly at
Lady Richardson. "I see; you prefer an autumn
month—highly coloured and mature."
This was too symbolic for Lake, but some intuition
of its meaning caused him to flush to the roots of his
fair hair, and verbally deny comprehension. "I do not
understand."
"No gallant man would," she retorted, and, further
enlightened, the captain's pink became a violent crimson,
to the concern of its cause.
"How red you are, Reggy!" cried Lady Richardson.
"I hope it isn't scarlet fever."
"I guess you suffer from that," murmured Mamie,
posing her lorgnette.
"Plait-il?" inquired the bewildered vicomte; but
received no reply. Miss Mulrady's knowledge of French
was too limited to permit of pathological discussions.
"Russian tea," explained Lake, cooling to his ordinary
sun-burn.
"Why not one word—indigestion ? *
"Indigestion," repeated the soldier, with dry
obedience.
"You should really try Billy's new medicine; it has
made him very fit. By the way, where is my
darling?"
Lake dodged the quizzical glance of Miss Mulrady,
and explained that Sir Billy had been last seen wrinkling
his young brows over the intricacies of trente et


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 193
quarante. "Couldn't haul him off; but I daresay
hunger will fetch him to the tea-table."
"Such devotion argues good luck," said Leah,
wondering if Billy would arrive with full pockets.
"Perhaps, Lady James. Most boys are lucky at
play."
"And therefore unlucky in love?" inquired Katinka,
smiling.
"Children should know nothing of such things," said
Aksakoff, stiffly.
"I guess not," cried Mamie; "but Sir Billy is a
freak."
"Really, Miss Mulrady," frowned the indignant little
mother, "my son is not so eligible for Barnnm's Show
as you seem to imagine. He hasn't got two heads, or
an elastic skin, or any of those things which seem to
be so popular in the United States."
"Wouldn't make him more interestin' if he had.
He's a moral freak."
"Et moi aussi?" asked the vicomte, whose scant
knowledge of Americanese prevented entire under-
standing.
"Oh, you haven't got morals of any sort."
"M. de Marville is the more interesting on that
account," said Leah, rousing herself from a two minutes'
silence; "a really good young man should be sealed,
as a bore, in a glass case."
"Then why is Mr. Askew at large?"
The sailor laughed. "I fear my past can best answer
that question."
"By your tongue? Well?"
"Better leave that well alone," laughed Katinka,
gaily. "Besides, only women have pasts."
13


194 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"And presents, when the men are generous," said
Lady Jim.
"I guess men are always generous, when there's
anythin' to be got."
"After meals, there is nothing to be got, save
smoking," said the hostess; "you gentlemen have leave.
Captain Lake, will you give me a cigarette?"
Like many Russian ladies, Mademoiselle Aksakoff
adored those fatal rolls of tobacco wrapped in coffee-
coloured paper, and consumed a great quantity. Lady
Richardson, unlike the average Englishwoman, smoked
likewise—that is, she fiddled qualmishly with half a
cigarette, because it looked smart to do what you
shouldn't. The gentlemen also offered incense to the
very modern goddess Nicotine, and shortly Lady Jim
was the only person present not committed to this
agreeable vice.
"I am behind the times," she confessed; " but please
don't look upon me as a prude on the prowl. I willingly
permit other women to spoil their teeth and ruin their
digestions."
"What a nasty speech!" cried Lady Richardson,
offended, especially as Leah knew it was an effort for
her to sin in this way.
"My dear, it is; but then, I feel nasty."
"And look charming," whispered Askew.
"I wonder how many times a day yon repeat yourself,"
she replied impatiently.
"As often as I recall your face. I can think then
of only one adjective, charming, and one noun,
angel."
"What limitations! And the necessary verb?"
"I love you."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 195
"First person singular, as usual, after the manner
of the male egotist. Isn't this rather Lindley-Murray
whispering?"
If it was, they had no opportunity of continuing it,
for Lady Richardson drew Leah's attention to the fact
that she had lost a fortune in the Casino. "I depend
upon you, dear, for my return fare."
"Billy will pay," conjectured Lady Jim, calmly: "I
quite expect he has broken the bank."
"Not on Mr. Askew's system," cried Mamie; "you
couldn't run an apple-stall on his lines."
"You would suggest improvements," complained
Askew, reproachfully.
"Then you admit that they were."
"If fitted properly into the puzzle, and at the proper
time. But it's a mistake to swap horses when crossing
a stream."
"Huh !" said Miss Mulrady, in her best Californian
style. "I guess the animals belonged to you. I lost
no dollars"; and with a comfortable sense of her own
'cuteness, she accepted a cigarette from the attentive
vicomte.
This frothy chatter irritated a lady who was inwardly
grappling with problems of the near future. Askew
ventured on more spindrift, only to be snubbed into
seeking the complaisant society of Mamie. This
necessitated a game of general post, for Katinka
slipped in rapid French and boulevard gossip with
do Marville, while Lady Richardson drew Lake once
more to her elderly feet. Remained the diplomatist,
in splendid isolation, and his gaze wandered to
Lady Jim, who stared straight before her. She was
looking into the next world, where a reproachful ghost


196 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
something resembling Jim, was asking why he had heen
butchered to make a woman's holMay. And the living,
half believing the terrible truth implied, gave shuttling
answer to the dead: "Demetrius is to blame"
So vivid was the vision, so powerful the thought, so
guilty the conscience, that her tongue actually framed
this much aloud, before she became aware that her
secret was slipping out. A hasty glance around
assured her that r.one of the prattlers had overheard}
but an echo of the name at her elbow testified to
Monsieur Aksakoffs excellent hearing. Lady Jim grew
chill. What had she said? How much had he gathered?
Instinctively facing a possible danger, she did not
even turn her head or raise her voice, but, almost
in the same breath, concluded the sentence differently:
u if he does not cure Jim."
"Your husband ?" asked the diplomatist, politely.
With admirable skill Leah started, as though her
reflections had been unexpectedly interrupted. "You
there, M. Aksakoff? I was thinking of my husband—
yes. He is trying to get well in Jamaica, and M.
Demetrius has gone to pull him round. I shall certainly
blame him if he does not cure Jim."
"That is severe, madarae. After all, no human being
holds the keys of life and death."
Self-controlled as she was, Lady Jim shuddered.
Demetrius certainly held the key of death, and had
used it—for so she began to believe—in opening for
Garth a door into the unknown. However, she utilised
the shudder very dexterously. "Don't talk like that.
It makes me fear lest Jim should never get well.
But after all, M. Demetrius is extraordinarily clever.
I told your daughter, only this afternoon, how I had


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 197
been attracted to him for Jim's sake, and by his
knowledge of consumption."
"Oh!" Aksakoff looked at her with his pale eyes,
and very inquiringly. It had not occurred to him
that the lady was a model wife. "The medical attain-
ments of M. Demetrius attracted you."
"Naturally! My husband is ill. I wish him to be
cured. M. Demetrius has a European reputation for
cure of consumption. We have held many conversations
on the subject, and I feel certain that there is a chance
for poor dear Jim."
"If M. Demetrius becomes his medical attendant?"
"He is," Leah assured him. "The poor creature
he was looking after in Madeira, on behalf of the Duke,
is dead, and Katinka informed me that M. Demetrius
had sailed for Jamaica."
Aksakoff frowned. "How does my daughter know
that?"
Lady Jim rose to shrug her shoulders, and to seize
the opportunity thus offered to solve her problem by
means of a private conversation.
"A charming place you have here," she said, glancing
round, and giving him to understand that the shrug
was his answer; "the air is so balmy."
"You will find it more so without tobacco smoke,"
said the Russian, throwing away his cigarette, and,
without knowing it, was thus skilfully entrapped into
a duologue by an ostensibly reluctant woman.
"I am so comfortable here," urged Leah, with feigned
hesitation.
"So pleased, madame; but your sense of the
picturesque will make you sacrifice ease for a parti-
cularly charming view of the Estrelles."


198 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"The proper study of womankind is man," misquoted
Lady Jim, accepting the invitation; "but nature comes
as a relief at times. We see so little of her in society,"
and she glanced at Lady Richardson's dyed hair and
tinted cheeks.
"You are severe, madame."
"I shall begin to believe so, if you repeat that a
third time," she replied, smiling, and glancing sideways
at his face. This she did to discover, if possible, his
intentions. It suddenly occurred to her, that the
diplomatist's insistence meant intrigue on his part.
He, like herself, was playing a game, and Lady Jim,
for the sake of the result, wished to overlook his hand.
Had she seen it, which she did not, the knowledge
that people knew more about her domestic affairs
than she would have approved of might have shocked
her.
Ivan Aksakoff was not a tricky Russian, nor a
diplomatist of repute, for nothing. Instructions had
reached him several times from headquarters that
Demetrius was to be watched while in England, and, if
possible, decoyed into the territory of a less scrupulous
nation, for the purpose of arrest. A drugged official's
feelings had been outraged, a much-wanted Anarchist
had escaped through the connivance of the exile, and
a paternal government thought that an enforced trip
to Siberia might cool misplaced friendships for sus-
pected persons. Several times Aksakoff had tried to
induce the Demetrius opossum to climb down from
his tree of refuge, but the suspicious beast refused to
oblige him. Therefore, all that the diplomatist could
was to keep himself advised of the doctor's doings,
in the hope of luring him to destruction when he was


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 199
off his guard. He had biblical precedent for this hope.
Shiraei, the son of Gera, lulled by long security, had
crossed the forbidden brook Kidron, so why should
not Demetrius, likewise forgetful, cross the Channel?
Stealthy inquiry into the doctor's affairs had led
Aksakoff to ask himself, why the man dangled at
Lady Jim's apron-strings. Reports poured in, fast and
thick, that the Curzon Street household was insolvent,
but these did not help the diplomatist overmuch. If
Lady Jim wanted money, she would scarcely ask a
penniless exile for the cash he did not possess. The man
was not sufficiently handsome, nor so superlatively
fascinating, that he should gain the love of the most
beautiful woman in London. And, incidentally, Aksakoff
learned that Lady Jim was a modern Lucrece, although
she did not profess an ardent love for her lord and
master. Therefore, as neither Mammon nor Cupid
could explain a friendship which was pretty freely
discussed in clubs and drawing-rooms, Aksakoff could
not comprehend this particular wile of woman.
In his endeavour to fathom the meaning, he even
went so far as to question his daughter, knowing that
she was as infatuated with Demetrius as Demetrius
was with Lady Kaimes. But Katinka either could not
or would not explain, and for months the diplomatist
had been exasperated by the sight of a genuinely
platonic friendship, for which there seemed to be no
reason. Now he learned from one of the parties to
the bond that a husband's sickness, and a friend's
skill, were the elements which composed the intimacy.
Such a case, in such a light, had never before been
presented to him, and while sauntering by Lady Jim's
side to view the Estrelles against the sunset, he was


20o LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
trying to think if the explanation was genuine. To
his acute hearing, it did not sound even plausible.
Nevertheless—and this was Aksakoff's reason for
seeking the interview—some use might be made of
the woman to entrap the man. Lady Jim was badly
in need of ready money, and the Russian Government
had, at the time, full coffers. Since there was no love
in the question, this singular lady might, for a round
sum, dispense with the doctor's attendance on her
husband. More—if delicately handled, she might
induce Demetrius to show her the sights of Paris.
It was difficult to hint this without shocking the
feelings of a great lady and a spotless woman. Still,
if skilfully done, and without too much emphasis,
Lady Jim might gather that her finances could be put
in order without much trouble on her part.
But Aksakoff had another argument which induced
him to risk a scene with outraged virtue. He loved
his daughter, and wished her to marry a highly placed
cousin, who would be of political use to his father-in-
law. Unfortunately, Katinka was infatuated—Aksakoff
could find no more appropriate word—with Demetrius.
Marriage with a person wanted by the powerful of
St. Petersburg meant a check to the diplomatist and
a handle to his many enemies. The match was not to
be thought of. Yet, if Demetrius would only prove
kind, Mademoiselle Aksakoff would assuredly becou e
his wife, even if she had to achieve the marriage by
elopement. Also, Katinka might be able to procure
the man's pardon, and of this Aksakoff entirely dis-
approved. Even if the doctor was whitewashed, be
had Mich socialistic or anarchistic feelings—it mattered
liot which—that he would never consent to resume


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 201
his title or the large income attached to such re-
sumption. On the whole, both from a fatherly and a
domestic point of view, Aksakoff felt that this marplot
would be safer in a Siberian mine. How to get him
there was the problem.
The solution might come through Lady Jim. If he
could only ascertain her feelings towards Demetrius,
and hint that such a lovely woman should not be worried
by sordid money affairs, it was not improbable that
such a satisfactory result would be arrived at. It was
a forlorn hope, but Aksakoff dared it; it was a straw,
but he grasped at it—and now, fully committed to the
speculation, he was casting about in his mind as to
a promising beginning. No easy task, for AksakofFs
spies and AksakofFs experience assured him that Lady
James Kaimes was a prickly plant, needing care in
the handling.
So it will be seen that Leah's intuition had not
deceived her, scanty as was the ground for suspicion.
The closer she examined his face by swift side-glances,
the more certain she became that he was playing a
game, and—from her experience of diplomatists—by
no means for love. To vary the metaphor, she and the
Russian were about to engage in a duel, either with
foils or swords. Lady Jim did not care which. She
was perfectly assured that, however dexterous her
antagonist might be, she could fence quite as well, if
not better. And thus she marched to the duelling
ground, already a victor.


CHAPTER XVI
Silhouetted against a pale purple sky, the dark masses
of the Estrelles floated on a shimmering sea. Nearer
and clearer, yet less sharply defined, etherealised by
amethystine hues, and indistinct through the haze
of gloaming, frowned the Grimaldi stronghold, its
mouldering walls, clasping closely packed houses, domi-
nated by a lean and soaring campanile. Over the cactus
hedge, and between bending palms, could be caught
a glimpse of the trim, unromantic modern town, of
the sleepy waters of the bay, and fishing-boats rocking
beside spick-and-span toy yachts, with here and there
the picturesque felucca of Mediterranean commerce, old-
fashioned, with oars and lateen sails. Only Shelley
in radiant verse could have described with any approach
to truth this magical dreamland, rtrfal yet unreal,
under the changing colours of sunset.
As at the outset of an earlier and less difficult
interview, Lady Jim admired the loveliness of paradise,
with ostentatious disregard of her embarrassed com-
panion. And embarrassed he was, to such a degree
that she marvelled at his choice of a profession in
which emotions count as crimes. This judgment was
unfair, for Aksakoff ordinarily commanded his feelings
with the severity of a martinet. But so great were
the stakes for which he proposed to play—his daughter's
future and his political advancement—that he shifted
302


LADY JIM OF CLRZON STREET 203
uneasily from one foot to the other, clasped and un-
clasped his hands, and betrayed more of the natural
man and anxious father than was consistent with
diplomatic reticence.
Having some idea of this mental confusion, Leah
waited for him to make an almost certain mistake,
of which she intended to take full advantage. She
was like a cat watching a mouse-hole, ready to pounce
at an opportune moment. Meanwhile, she hold her
tongue, which sufficiently assured Aksakoff of her
dangerous capability. He had never before beheld the
ominous miracle of a silent woman, and his nerves
were none the better for this surprising spectacle.
"Demetrius, madame," he finally blundered, and
recognised the blunder as the words left his mouth—
"Demetrius is your friend."
The attack was so weak that Lady Jim contemp-
tuously gave him vantage-ground. "Katinka's lover
also, I understand."
"And the Czar's enemy," retorted Aksakoff angrily.
"Let us have all his qualifications at once, madame.'
"By all means. Enemy, friend, lover. Well 1"
"It is very far from well, as you know, madame.
I desire no Siberian felon for my son-in-law."
"I never knew that M. Demetrius had been to
Siberia."
"He will go there yet—to his grave."
"What an odd choice of a cemetery!" said Leah,
shrugging; "but I assure you, M. Aksakoff, that I
take no interest in these funeral arrangements."
"No! Yet report says"
He was about to blurt out something still more
undiplomatic, but that Lady Jim's pity for his


204 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
ineptitude made her intervene. "I know what it says,
and of course I deeply sympathise with you."
"Madame!"
"Yes, yes; I comprehend your feelings. It is
hard that your own daughter should defy you,
especially as M. Demetrius is merely a doctor."
"He is a prince in our country," said Aksakoff,
furious that she should take the lead, and at a loss
how to regain it.
"A felon also, I understood you to say."
"Let him venture on French soil, and I shall
certainly make him one," snarled Aksakoff, with un-
pleasantly glittering eyes. Lady Jim had scratched
him rather dexterously, and the Tartar stood reveale d.
She scratched again. "Even if Katinka makes him
your son-in-law 1"
"That shall never be!" He hesitated, then attempted
a bear-hug. "I will speak plainly, mndame"
"About Katinka and her infatuation? Oh, cer-
tainly."
Aksakofl bit his lip. Used as he was to verbal
fencing, Leah's handling of her tongue baffled him.
He took refuge in truth-telling.
"Demetrius does not love my daughter," he said
bluntly.
"How fortunate for you, and disagreeable for her I"
"He loves an—an—an actress," explained Aksakoff,
wondering if her interest in the man deepened to
jealousy.
Apparently it did not. "That would interest Katinka
more than it does me," she assured him; then, afl'eeting
the innocence of ignorance, "May I ask why you
chronicle small beer?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 205
"Demetrius is your intimate friend."
"My husband's medical attendant," she corrected
quietly.
"If you remove him to that distance, I confess to an
indiscretion. Shall we return?"
"Without admiring the Estrelles?"
"Madame, the excuse was obvious."
"For what?"
Aksakoff shrugged his shoulders. "For the clearing
up of misunderstandings. You are anxious—so you say
—that Demetrius should cure your husband. My
reason for this conversation is, to apologise for my
intention to rob you of his very valuable services. If
I can trap Demetrius—say in Paris—Lord James must
content himself with an inferior doctor."
Leah looked pensive and puzzled. "I compre-
hend; but why should you make use of the wrong
word?"
"Misunderstanding?" Then, when she nodded, " My
ignorance of your language"
"Or of my feelings? By this talk of Parisian traps
and Siberian punishment, you assume that I am ac-
quainted with the private affairs of 51. Demetrius."
"It is possible that I have made that mistake," said
Aksakoff, dryly. j
"As a diplomatist you should never confess as much.
It might he that I may take advantage of your—
mistake, to inform M. Demetrius of his danger."
"I foresaw that possibility, madame. As a dutiful
wife, you naturally wish to keep so clever a doctor in
attendance on your husband."
"Of course; but a trip to Siberia would not improve
Jim's health."


2o6 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"There is no need for the mountain to go to Mahomet,
madame."
"Pardon me if in this case I thinkotherwise."
Aksakoff shrugged again. "I admit the reason,
seeing that this particular mountain is married."
"These parables are a trifle wearisome, M. Aksakoff.
The air is chilly, and I wish to return to Lady Richard-
son. Would you mind telling me plainly, before we
part, why you sought this interview?"
"Assuredly, madame. My daughter loves this man,
who does not love her, and who, by reason of his crime
and opinions, is not an eligible husband. You were
with Katinka this afternoon, as you informed me, and
she is now so cheerful that I suspect you must have
delivered some message from Demetrius to so raise her
spirits. Or it might be "—he looked squarely at her,
as he added, "that Demetrius is in Monte Carlo."
"No; your daughter had a letter from him, in which
he stated that he was leaving Madeira for Jamaica.
Go on, please."
"Katinka had a letter?" said Aksakoff, with an
unpleasant look. "That, no doubt, accounts for her
spirits. Were you Cupid's messenger, madame?"
Lady Jim smothered a laugh. "No; though I
admit that I should like to see her happy."
"She will never be happy with a man who does not
love her. Demetrius will not come near me, and I can-
not explain. Will you oblige me by taking a message?"
"Why should I?"
"For the sake of retaining him as Lord James's
medical attendant."
Leah nodded. "As a wife, I will take your message.
What is it?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 207
"Tell Demetrius that if he will give Katinka to
understand that he will never marry her my gratitude
will be stronger than my duty."
"In other words, you will not arrest him."
"So long as he remains in England."
"Where he can't be arrested," laughed Lady Jim.
"Well, your message shall be duly delivered. And I
may as well confess, since we are committed to plain
speaking, that M. Demetrius informed me why he had
to leave Russia."
"His confidence will render it easier for you to make
a treaty between us, ma dame."
"Possibly. But you will understand that I assume
the role of peacemaker solely on my husband's
account."
"Madame," Aksakoff bent and raised her hand to
kiss it; "as a wife you are far above rubies. Shall we
return?"
Leah consented without moving. She had not yet
solved her problem. "One moment. You will give me
your word that M. Demetrius will not be lured to
Paris?"
"I give you my word, if the treaty is made, and
Katinka is disabused of her infatuation."
"Which forms part of the treaty," said Leah, lightly.
"In the interests of Jim, I'll do my best; but should
he go to Paris"
"He will assuredly leave it for Siberia, which is
much colder and not so amusing."
"Then I must advise him to be naturalised in
England."
"It will be the act of a friend, madame. And also,
you might advise him to beware of this actress."


203 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Oh, I can't intrude my advice into his strictly
private affairs."
"If you wish your husband to be cured, it will be as
well to do so," Aksakoff recommended. "Mademoiselle
Ninette is not to be trusted."
"Ninette? I have seen her—a very charming
artiste."
"But unscrupulous."
"Not so much so, I hope, as to betray the man she
loves."
"A woman, madam, will do much for money."
"How well you know the sex, monsieur I" said Lady
Jim, ironically.
"I have had some experience, madame."
"And have benefited so little that you cannot manage
your daughter without my intervention."
"I confess it. Let me amend my statement by
saying that I have had many experiences and little
experience."
"That is a more correct way of putting it," said
Leah, gravely; "for I assure you, M Aksakoff, that if
a woman loves a man, she certainly will not betray
him for money."
"We join issue, madame. The Uranian Aphrodite is
not the divinity in this case, and Aphrodite Pandemos can
be bought."
"How classical and confusing! And the price?''
"Two thousand pounds," said Aksakoff, carelessly.
"You should reckon it in francs, seeing that Made-
moiselle Ninette is French. Otherwise she will not
understand?"
"The jingle of gold is a universal language, madame."
"An agreeable one, at all events. I wish we had


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 209
more opportunity of studying it. Well, M. Aksnkoff,
for Jim's sake, I shall see that M. Demetrius aflords
this harpy no opportunity of earning the money."
"And you will pardon my mentioning the harpy's
name?"
"We are a man and woman of the world, M. Aksakoff:
there is no need to call spades shovels. I thank you
for considering my husband. To lose the skill of M.
Demetrius might result in his death."
"I am happy to have been of service to you, madame,
and of course, you can understand my paternal
feelings."
"Assuredly; I shall do my best to make your daughter
see reason. A woman can talk to a woman of such
things, you know."
"When she is such a woman as you, madame,"
said Aksakoff, again bending over her hand; "and
now"
"Just one hoar to catch the train," remarked Leah,
with a glnnce at the tiny watch set in her bracelet.
In this way Leah solved her problem, and AksakoS
gained his point; yet, on the face of it, their conversation
dealt entirely with the saving of Demetrius from a
Siberian prison, and Katinka and Katinka's matrimonial
salvation. But Lady Jim knew that, if she could lure
the doctor to Paris, she would not longer need to fear
a Sabine alliance; while the diplomatist was satisfied
that, for two thousand pounds, Demetrius would be safely
transported to Siberia. Leah, guessing this, let him
think that the money tempted her, though she wondered
how he came to know that she needed cash, and was
secretly angered that he should dare to oiler a bribe.
But she could not confess her true reason for wishing
'4


210 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
the exile of Demetrius without letting Aksakoff know
about the plot; therefore, of the two evils she chose
the less. But she resolved to take no Eussian gold.
This cynical foreigner should learn that a strictly-
virtuous Englishwoman cannot be bought. It was com-
mendable in these augurs that they did not wink at
one another.
Their reappearance at the tea-table was greeted with
shrieks of joy from Lady Richardson, whose emotions
were invariably noisy. "Leah! Leah!" she cried,
overcome by maternal love and pride, "Billy has won
you twelve thousand francs."
"Twelve thousand five hundred," corrected Sir Billy,
who was disposing of tea and cake and sandwiches
in a way which argued long abstinence.
"Five hundred pounds," translated Captain Lake.
"Oh, you dear, clever boy!" said Lady Jim, coming
rapidly to the table to kiss her catspaw. "Halves, of
course."
Sir Billy shook his head and tried to keep cool,
for the kiss rather upset his dignity. "I am more
than repaid," said he gallantly.
"So I should think," murmured Askew, who would
have doubled the amount for a similar attention.
Mamie overheard, and recalled a phrase she had never
used before, but which suited her impersonation of the
American girl as—she is not. "Don't put the banana-
peel under your own foot, sonny!"
"What do you mean?" asked the mystified islander.
Miss Mulrady glanced at Lady Jim's back, then
winked at Askew to intimate that she had remarkably
good eyesight; also, that kissing married women led
to D.C. cross-examinations; also,—but there was no
end to the many meanings of that wink. Lord


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 211
Burleigh's head-shake, in The Critic, Act II., scene 1,
could not have been more eloquent.
Meanwhile applausive adjectives buzzed round Billy's
head. He fought his trente et quarante battle o'er again,
between hasty mouthfuls, while his mother, thanking
Providence for having bestowed on her such a son,
murmured ecstatic asides to Katinka Aksakoff. It was
the apotheosis of the modern child.
Leah counted her gains, placed them safely in one of
those wonderful feminine pockets unknown to man, then
gave a passing thought to the virtuous Hengists.
"We must get back, dear," she warded Lady
Richardson. "Katinka, darling"—this was fo Aksa-
koff 's benefit—" do come over and see me. We have so
much to talk about."
"I shall be delighted," replied the girl, flushing with
joy, and really was so. The prospect of unlimited
conversations on the subject of demi-gods, and their
ways with a sympathetic friend, allured her towards an
hour of happiness. What was left of Lady Jim's
conscience smote her; she felt almost sorry for her
dupe. But, with the premeditated self-deception of
people who rearrange biblical texts for the palliation of
pet sins, she reflected that a fool's paradise for Katinka
was better than no paradise whatsoever.
Monsieur Aksakoff said no more. He and Lady Jim
understood one another perfectly, and it was useless
to add touches to a finished picture. With cordial
stiffness he sped his guests on their way through the
town and the glare of the elestrics down to the station-
lift Mamie and her supple vicomte shook hands
midway; but Askew and Captain Lake insisted upon
seeing the ladies safely into a comfortable compartment.


2i2 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Billy was disgusted. "One man's enough to run
this show," protested Billy.
"Don't talk American slang," rebuked his mother,
and pelted the men with breathless udieux. "Good-
night, Reggy, so very charming, our day! Mr. Askew,
good-night—so very amusing! We've had a ripping
time."
"And the mother-kettle calls my pot black," Billy
breathed to Leah.
She pa d no attention. Askew was trying to extort
an invitation to San Remo, with eloquent eyes and
persuasive lips. But a recollection of his four-and-
twenty hours in the vicinity without calling, added to
a resentment that he should have experimented with
his system in the unauthorised company of a much too
attractive girl, made her ignore his hints. Moreover,
being an ex-sailor and undiplomatic, he would probably
prove so affectionately honest, that the Hengists
might—and if the Hengists did, then "adieu grapes,
the vintage is over." Julia and her serious spouse
would never understand the need of a grass-widow for
amusements of this sort. While her Ulysses wandered
they expected her to be a replica of Penelope, that dull
woman who was so fond of speeches and sewing.
"Gome to Curzon Street in a fortnight," she
advised, and the train departed, leaving him to muse on
the " ars amatoria," as understood in the navy.
"I hope you have enjoyeil yourself, dear," said Lady
Richardson, arranging Billy's tie and kissing Billy's
nose, but addressing Leah; "I'm sure you ought to
have. This darling has won you pots."
Lady Jim nodded, rather wearily. The cackle of the
hen over her chick worried her, and she retreated to the


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 213
most distant corner, bored by maternal fussiness. This
visit had taken her a step farther, but it was most
annoying that success should make her feel uncomfort-
able. Aksakoff, misapprehending her reasons as he did,
would certainly assist her materially. But Katinka,—
bur-r-r-r I Why couldn't conscience quit worrying I


CHAPTER XVII
Even the skilful find it no easy matter to drive a
kicking, squealing team. The off-horse must be flicked
into decorum, the near leader soothed, the wheelers,
bearing the heat and burden of the day, encouraged
into pulling with a will. Then, a deft hand on tugging
reins, a quick eye for the deviations of the road, some
knowledge of mouths, tender and hard, and manifesta-
tions of that will which makes of vehicle and quad-
rupeds a coherent whole—'these things must be attri-
butes of the god in the car. Likewise of the "Dea
ex machina," although Lady Jim was in and not out
of the vehicle. Enthroned with whip and ribbons,
she drove a team of five. And in the odd number lay
the difficulty of bringing the car of Destiny to the
selected stables.
For by this time, rejecting an over-ruling Providence
other than the fetish, who was a domestic god and
biased, Leah looked upon herself as her own omnipotent
and triumphing Destiny. She would, so she decided,
expunge Jim, utilise Askew and Katinka, obliterate
Demetrius, and assist Muscovite politics through
Aksakoff. This team, in harness, and rendered obedient
by blinkers, she controlled with considerable judgment,
and made, single-hearted, for her goal. That the
actual Destiny, whose role she affected to play, might
214


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 215
upset her smoothly-running chariot by a judiciously
placed and unlooked-for stone, she never paused to
consider. So far as she could see, the course was clear
to the prize—a money-bag, which she would seize as
a victorious widow of the wrong sort.
Askew was the odd animal of the team, the fifth
wheel on her chariot, though he was less like a horse
than a troublesome and over-faithful dog. Notwith-
standing her prohibition, he invaded San Remo, played
a most exasperating Patience on a monument along the
promenade, and dodged her angry eyes round convenient
street-corners. She could not go abroad but what he
turned up in unexpected quarters, nor could she remain
at home without his appearing, to excuse, on frivolous
pretexts, a wholly unnecessary visit. Luckily, the
Hengists approved of his frank looks and modest
manners, else she might have been compromised. Even
in easy-going Italy such cicisbeism was annoying.
Later, Lady Jim returned to London, for that season
invented by man, and left him to kick his heels in
cross isolation. But, even before the Curzon Street
house could be warmed, he rang the bell, and presented
himself in the character of a martyr. For the sake
of the future Leah kept him in the team, but she
gave him more of the whip than he liked, and also—
ironically—a marked almanack, limiting his visits. But
that she had some liking for him, and much use, she
would have bundled him into the arms of the fixture,
with strict orders to give those same arms a legal
right to embrace him for ever. But Askew himself
put an end to that chance of being safely bestowed.
"What will Marjory say if you make my house your
hotel?" she asked, when he appeared on the fifth day


216 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
of the week for the eighth time, and at afternoon
tea, too, when she, with a hard day's pleasure behind
her, was recruiting for the night's fatigue.
"Nothing," he asserted, sulkily and guiltily; "she
has no right to control my actions."
"That depends upon your feelings towards your
future wife."
"She is not my — I mean, we have broken it
off."
"What!" Lady Jim was frankly exasperated. She
as a married woman, and he as an engaged man, could
platonise to any extent; but he free, and she shortly
to be a widow—what then? She would no more
make him her husband than she would allow Demetrius
to lead her to the altar. And here he was, selfishly
placing himself in an eligible position for the very
matrimony she declined to contemplate.
"Marjory and I decided we were not suited," he
explained, but timidly, because her eyes flashed. "She
takes half the income, and marries that fox-hunting ass.
I am free with the rest of the money"; he waited for
congratulations which never came. "I thought you
would be pleased," he blundered.
"And pray why should I be pleased ? *
"I believed—I fancied—you—you liked me," he
stuttered, growing red.
"Tolerably—as an engaged man."
"Then you've been playing with me 1" be cried; "you
don't love me 'i"
"Did I ever tell you so?"
"No; but I thought"
"Your vanity thought! Go on,"
"Oh, Leah"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 217
"Kaimes—which is my married name."
Askew gasped. Her amazing impudence reduced
him to staring silence. She had lured him to her feet
with sweet looks and significant smiles and cooing
words, till he had been deceived into thinking that her
passion was as strong and as true as his own. Now
she reminded him that she was—married. "Oh I" he
gasped again, and Lady Jim laughed shortly. Her
cat-nature was enjoying this mouse-play.
Visitors had come and gone, and they were alone in
the dainty drawing-room, with an untidy tea-table.
Askew, having escorted her home from Ranelagh, had
waited for an hour with stubborn patience for this
solitude of two. His end had been gained, and now—
he looked helplessly round, as though seeking for some
third person to explain if his charmer were a demon or a
woman. "Oh !" he said, once more.
"Nearly six," said Leah, consulting her bracelet.
"How long do you intend to stand there saying ' Oh!'?"
and she mimicked him.
"Leah!"
"Lady James Kaimes!"
"Not even Lady Jim," he said, clenching his brown
hands. "Oh, you—you "His voice became inarticu-
late with sheer anger.
"Pray oonsider that you are in my house," she
reminded him coldly.
"I'll never come here again,"
"That is as you choose."
* But I can't live without yon."
"How nattering!"
"And I won't"; he came a step nearer the low chair
in which she eat, but her derisive laugh made him


218 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
pause. "Leah—I—I—love you I" His voice broke,
and he stretched out his arms.
"I saw that ages ago."
"Then why did you did you?" He stopped, and
looked at her with imploring eyes. "I thought you
loved me," he murmured, choking.
"Oh, you thought!" said she, ironically.
"Is it not true? Have I been deceived? No !" he
flung out a beseeching hand; "don't speak—I cannot
bear to hear the truth. Let me go—let me go," he
stumbled towards the door, blindly. "You have
broken my heart; but I'll go away—far away—to
South Amei ica, and—and—oh, my God!" he leaned
against the wall and covered his face with his hands.
Lady Jim might have been in the stalls of a theatre
for all the personal feeling she had hitherto shown.
But his last words brought self uppermost. If he went
to South America, he would certainly see Lola Fajardo,
and, possibly, might come face to face with Jim.
Recognition of an admitted corpse would spoil Jim's
game and her own. Askew, for she put herself in
his place, would certainly make things unpleasant,
and she did not wish to provide a scandal in high life
for circulating extra editions of newspapers during the
silly season. Besides, he was really a nice boy, and she
would miss his good looks and canine attentions. Both
circumstances and inclinations demanded that she
should keep him under her eye. An explanation came
to her while he sobbed at the door—looking very
ridiculous, she thought—and she made use of it, to
soothe his sorrow and save herself.
"You silly boy," she began, and the beginning
produced an effect she was far from foreseeing.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 219
"Silly! Yes, I am silly," he admitted between his
teeth, and flinging back his head to regard her with
fierce, wet eyes. "I am silly to have believed
in you and in your false affection"; before she could
protest against this language—she had risen to do
so—he hurled himself across the room, and gripped
her wrists so tightly that she could have screamed with
pain. "You shan't treat me in this way—do you hear,
you shan't. I'm not going to be whistled to your feet
like a dog and then kicked aside. Married! Yes, you
are married, as you were when you whistled. But
hang your husband and damn your husband—he has
no claim on you, other than a legal one. Mine you
am, and mine you shall be. I tell you, Leah"—he
shook her in his anger—" that you must leave this man,
and come with me. You must—you must!"—he
dragged her hands to his breast—" you shall!"
"Harry!" She gasped his name in sheer surprise.
"Yes. Harry—the fool, if you will; the man, as
you shall find."
"How—how dare you?"
"Because I do dare, and I shall dare more, if you
play football with my heart. Why couldn't you leave
me alone? Why couldn't you stick to the man whose
name you bear? Don't struggle, for you shan't be free
till I have had my say out. You made me love you—
now I shall make you love me. You and your society
rubbish, and gimcrack rules, and polite lies, and make-
believe of truth! You with—ah-r-r-r !" he shook her
again—" you over-civilised coquette, you Circe-of-many-
wiles, you ruin of honest men! Do you think that I,
who am flesh and blood, care for your lady and gentle-
man humbug? No, no! I am a man, you a woman,


220 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
and we are one; you hear—one. If not, I'll put a
bullet in your head and another through my own. You
have fooled many, you shan't fool me. There!" he
flung her roughly from him; "now you can ring for
your servants, to put me to the door."
With bruised wrists and wide open eyes Leah stood
dumfoundered. Jim, at his worst, had never been like
this. If he had been she would have truly loved him.
At the moment she very nearly loved Askew, recog-
nising in his outburst that masterful nature which
every woman adores and succumbs to. In spite of her
dexterity in playing with amoious fire, it really seemed
as though she was burning her fhigcrs on this occasion.
Naturally, she enjoyed the experience. This reversion
to cave-life thrilled her pulses. Had Leah been capable
of loving anything with a beard she would have then
and there fallen at Askew's feet and implored him
to trample on her. But her absolute ignorance of the
strongest of passions, save self-love, snatched the victory
in—what would have been to an ordinary woman—
the hour of defeat.
"Well," she said, admiration struggling with anger,
"you are a brute!"
The man, still panting from conflicting passions, acted
strangely and foolishly, as men do at crucial moments.
He smoothed his hair, arranged his tie, and pulled down
his waistcoat, not looking at her but into a near mirror.
Yet he saw her astonished face at second hand, and
smiled grimly.
"I can be a brute," said he, ominously quiet; "but
you haven't seen me at my worst yet."
"Good heavens!" This was undoubtedly a man—
the man—the dominating male, the genuine lord of


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 221
creation, whose animal honesty can rend the cobweb
entanglements of the female sex, and does rend them,
-when the bandage of love inopportunely slips. .Defiance
would not lure him again to his proper position at her
feet; and she was half afraid of the might her tricki-
ness had evoked. But in woman's weakness li s woman's
strength, and Delilah pulled down the corners of her
mouth to subjugate Samson.
"My poor wrists!" she murmured.
Askew wheeled from the minor, shied, and winced;
but his mouth and eyebrows were still three straight
lines.
"My poor wrists !" reiterated the temptress, moving
towards her pre-historic man; "see—you have bruised
them."
He could see that he had; they were under his eyes,
under his very nose, but he threw aside his head, with
the modern equivalent of a word which a cave man
might have used in some such plight. Adam was
weakened into aggressive firmness.
Eve offered a more tempting apple. "If you really
loved me"—tears emphasised the murmur.
"Leah—darling!"
He was again in the toils, and kissing the bruised
skin madly, with feverish lips. "How could I be so
cruel?" he mumbled, and slipped to her victorious feet.
"Oh ! oh! oh!" in three distinct keys. "Forgive."
"If you will promise not to leave me," she whispered
tenderly.
"Never! never! never! never!" a kiss on alternate
hands for each word.
Circe's magic having evoked the brute, she knew
thoroughly the sort of animal she had to deal with


222 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Considering that she had no feeling of love, or even
pity, to create fervour, Leah acted admirably. Cooing
like a mother over her babe, and with a seraphic look,
she bent above the tame animal, less to caress him than
to make sure that the halter was round his neck.
"You foolish, hot-headed boy! Do get up and talk
sensibly!"
The subjugated obeyed meekly, all the fire out of his
veins, and sat like a whipped schoolboy in a distant
chair, which she indicated with regal indignation.
"For," said Leah, as if she were announcing an entirely
new fact, "I am a married woman"; and she slipped
behind the tea-table to prevent further demonstrations.
"As if I didn't know," sighed Askew, disconsolately.
"Then why did you behave so badly, you wicked
boy?"
"Because jewellers' windows are tempting."
"Jewellers' windows?"
"You look into them, and see pretty things you can't
buy. Naturally, a fellow wants to smash the glass
and"
"I understand the parable. But a thief has to
reckon with the law, and so has a married woman.
You would not like to see me divorced, Harry?"
"I would like to see you my wife," he retorted,
evasively and stubbornly.
"Impossible! I am already a wife. If I eloped
with you, what respect could you have for me?"
"I should have whatever you liked, including you."
"Which I don't like, and won't give," said Leah,
indignantly. "In you I looked to find a friend, and I
find nothing but ungoverned passion, that would drag
the object of his adoration in the mud. Oh! oh!"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 223
—out came the inevitable handkerchief—" how I have
been deceived!"
By this time, the brute, with a penitent tail between
its legs, was beginning to believe itself entirely in the
wrong. Lady Jim, seeing this, became more than ever
a tender woman. "I forgive you," she declared, plain-
tively, from behind a handkerchief mopping dry eyes;
"this scene will be as though it had never been."
"But my feelings," rebelled the cave-man, sulkily.
"Will always be those of sacred friendship for a
much-tried woman."
"How can they be, when?"
"When you have made such a fool of yourself? Ah,
my poor Harry, forget your folly. Remember only
that I forgive you."
"I don't exactly mean that," grumbled poor Harry,
scenting sophistry, but unable to prevent the war being
carried into his camp. "You—well—you see Oh,
hang it, Leah, you know that I love you."
"Not with that true love which is at once tender
and respectful."
These sentiments were really noble, but somehow
the bewildered man was not in the mood for copy-book
philosophy. "You offer me a stone and call it a
beautiful loaf," said he, bitterly, and with heat.
"Another parable! How biblical you are becoming!"
said Lady Jim, desperately weary and with her eye
on the clock. "I do not understand, nor do you, my
poor boy."
"I understar j(j that you have made a fool of me," he
snapped brusr ^uely.
"Oh nol Nature has been beforehand there," she
retorted, 1 oeginning to lose her temper with a man


224 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
who would explain. "Don't be silly, Harry! Go home,
and think of our future."
"Our future!" He leaped to his feet with a shining
face.
Leah regretted the misused pronoun, and began to
anticipate renewed melodrama. But her little tin
god, pitying a votary whose nerves wore jangled by
stupid honesty, sent a seasonable visitor.
"His Grace the Duke of Pentland," announced a
grandiloquent footman, flinging wide the door.
"Don't look so disgusted!" Leah flung an angry
whisper in Askew's lowering face as she sailed forward
to meet her father-in-law. "How are you, Duko? This
is a surprise—a delightful one, of course. I never
expected so pleasant a visitor."
The room was tolerably dim, and the Duke had
not the keen sight of his youth. "Mr.—Mr. I"
hesitated His Grace.
"Mr. Askew," chimed in Lady Jim, glad that the
mask of twilight was on the younger man's very cross
face. "He's just going. You know Mr. Askew, of
course, Duke. I met him at Firmingham. Must you
really go, Mr. Askew? So sorry! We may meet at
Lady Quain's to-night—I look in there for half an
hour. Good-bye for the present. So kind of you to
see me home from Ranelagh! Very dull, wasn't it ?" and,
rattling on to drown any too tender word he might
let slip, she hustled him to the door.
"Our future!" breathed the inconvenient third,
opening the gate of paradise most relucta ntly.
"Even the brutes have instincts, ilT net sense,"
snapped Lady Jim, scathingly, and Ada without
Eve, took his solitary way down the star ^ *° ^


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 225
dismissed into a cheerless world by an indifferent
footman.
To prevent interruption, Leah closed the door herself,
and switched on the electrics, before she returned to her
untimely visitor.
"Will you be long, Duke?" she asked, again con-
sulting the clock. "I have to dress for dinner. Mrs.
Martin's, you know: a stupid woman with a bad cook.
Such a bore!"
"I wonder you care to see people when Jim's away," said
Pentland, fretfully, and she noted suddenly his aged looks.
Lady Jim felt inclined to retort with the proverb
of the absent cat and the jubilant mice, but she really
felt sorry for the old man's drooping mouth and
additional wrinkles.
"I won't sec any one, if you like, Duke—I'm sure
it's no pleasure to make conversation without ideas.
Do let me ring for hot tea—you look so tired. Sit down
in this chair—and the cushion—there!" She made him
comfortable with genuine womanly sympathy, wondering,
meanwhile, what was ageing him.
"No tea, my dear. I can only wait for a few minutes;
my carriage is below. Tired? Yes, I am very tired;
worried, also."
"Nothing wrong, I hope," murmured Leah, sym-
pathetically.
"Jim, my dear—poor Jim! Have you heard about
his health lately?"
"Oh yes! Last week I received a few lines, and he
said that he felt ever so much better. His cough is
almost gme."
"Ah," said Pentland, sadly; "like all consumptives,
he is too hopeful."
15


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 227
but—" ho hesitated—" I never thought you cared enough
about Jim to inconvenience yourself."
"Jim has given me very little reason to care for
him," said Leah, with some bitterness. "If he had
been a better husband, I should have been a different
woman"; she used the stale argument tactfully and
regretfully.
"Yes—er—I'm afraid that's true," said the Duke,
recalling his son's peccability; "but he is so ill. For-
give and forget, Leah."
"For your sake, if not for Jim's," she said gracefully.
"I'll send the cable this very night."
And she did. When Pentland, overflowing with out-
spoken approbation of her correct conduct, took his
leave, she went to her desk and hunted out a cypher
with which Demetrius had supplied her. It would not
do to let the postal authorities know of their schemes,
and the cypher was a particularly intricate one. Leah
spent an hour in concocting her cablegram, and was
late for dinner in consequence. But she had a good
appetite, all the same, in spite of the bad food and
the dull conversation. For, on their way to Kingston,
Jamaica, were a few lines in cypher, a translation of
which would have been of great interest to the father-
in-law, who thought her so womanly and good.
"Duke wants me to nurse Jim," ran the cypher,
when Demetrius used the key. "Wire that there is no
need."
If Jim had really been dying, she would not have
altered a single word.


CHAPTER XVIII
An urchin throws a stone into the horse-pond. Circles
form, not only in the still water, but in the fluent air,
to enring invisibly our sphere. And who can say to
-what limit they recede, if limit there be? So with a
carelessly selected, hastily flung word. Had Lady Jim
said your future, Askew, assuming no coupling, would
have grumbled himself back into tame-catism and
canine contentment with casual head-pats. But, our
future! The pronoun bulked portentous. Its three
letters encompassed, to the lover's prolific imagination
—divorce, remarriage, a life-long duet and amorous
communings in the highest paradise attainable by
those yet moving in time.
Lady Jim, less phikhyunl, gave him to understand,
that a single word could by no means embrace sueh
various interpretations. She again emphasised her
mationhood, called Askew's attention to the sp .tless
reputation he wished to smirch, and intimated that
poor Jim's illness precluded her from thinking of
anything save poor Jim's possible decease. "In which
sad case," mourned Leah, "we could renew our con-
versation without reproach."
"A widow has no bridesmaids, I believe?" hinted
Askew, reflectively. She hinted buck with sweet smiles,
"Don't you prefer a quiet wedding?" And on this


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 229
adjustment of the situation he built castles, believing
the foundation to be sound. Strangely enough, in so
honest a gentleman, the heai tlessness of utilising
possibilities connected with the Kaimes' vault never
occurred to him. Which proved, without need of words,
the essential selfishness of the feeling he miscalled love.
On this arrangement Lady Jim frolicked gaily
through the remaining weeks of the season, well
content that things were as they were. A Jamaica
cablegram, which—it designedly not being in cypher—
she could and did show to the Duke, informed both
that a wifely nurse was needless. The last word of
the communication promised a letter, which duly
arrived. This last also was a public document,
Demetrius being too cunning to detail criminality in
black and white. Pentland and Leah read the letter
cheek by jowl. Lord James was a trifle better, said
the script, and if able to outlast the voyage, would
return to England, en route for Algiers. Lady James
could then nurse him into health, say, at Biskra.
"Thank heaven," quavered the Duke, not reading
between the lines, as did his better informed daughter-
in-law. "We'll make a party and go there for the
autumn. Frith will be delighted."
"On Jim's account ?" inquired Leah, dryly. "Rather
an effort, Duke."
"On my account," rebuked the old man. "Frith
knows that if Jim is to leave us"—his voice faltered
and fell—" I should like to see him depart."
"Why does the prodigal son always banquet on
the calf?" mused Lady Jim, restoring the letter to
her pocket.
"My dear, many failings require many excuses.*


230 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"So it seems. Selfish people receive more praise for
one creditable action, than do those kind-hearted fools
who spend their lives in self-denial."
"We must encourage the good seed to grow, my
dear."
She laughed unpleasantly. "It usually springs up
wild oats, with over-attention!" and she departed to
consider the inexplicable growth of green bay-trees.
Lord Frith had never given his father the slightest
trouble; he was a model son, an admirable husband; his
friendships were staunch, and his life clean—yet Pent-
land contented himself with perfunctory praise of these
qualities. lie expected his eldest son to be a domestic
Bayard, as the unimaginative Marquis had shown no
desire to sow the wind. Jim, on the other hand,
left the reaping of his whirlwind to doting relatives.
Devourer of husks with congenial swine, and caring
only for his large, healthy, greedy self, he had never
done a kind act or shown a filial trait. A spend-
thrift, a rogue in grain, cursed by many men, blessed
by no woman, he—this profligate egotist—was dealt
with not only tenderly, but in a way calculated to
assure him that he was a pearl without price. His
notorious failings were covered by the phrase that
"he was his own worst enemy," and the presumed
possession of good qualities, never manifested, entitled
him to paternal pity. Leah, an easy-going sinner
herself, was not hard on those who dwelt in glass
houses. But this gilding of Jim's base metal made
her gorge rise.
"What's the use of being good?" she moralised, as
her brougham sped towards Curzon Street. "Kindness
is looked upon as weakness, and the more generous


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 231
one is, the more those who don't know the meaning
of the word sponge and sneer. If you are really
bad, sham philanthropists reclaim you and cocker you
up, and praise you loudly if you say ' Hang' instead
of 'Damn!' A sinner repents, and Heaven is
a-flutter; a saint makes one slip, and the world yells
hypocrite. A pied person, neither white nor black, is
left alone, as the majority are of that mottled complexion.
To be really good is to be hated; to be extremely bad
means excuses, help, and trumpeting!?. Frith gets the
kicks without deserving them, and Jim the half-penco
he has never earned. Clever Jim, who has chosen the
world's better part."
It will be seen that Leah, being of the world, judged
as the world, and yet with greater discernment. In
one way she was right. It is generally your sinner
who gobbles up the cakes and ale. But Lady Jim—
no very ardent Bible student—misread texts, or rather,
read her own material meaning into them. Therefore,
although conversant with green bay-trees—did she
not dwell in a grove of such ?—her memory did not
recall the axe that might be laid to the roots thereof.
The Seventy-third Psalm might also have assisted her
to a better understanding of undeserved worldly pros-
perity, had she done other than gabble it hastily,
when it happened to come into the service. But the
fetish which stood to her in place of the Living God
did not encourage spiritual explorations, and Leah
saw life as a comprehensible stretch of time, limited
by birth or death. The hereafter—if any—she could
not conceive, knowing only the present as the real,
the actual, and the true. Therefore did she grudge
Jim his undeserved coddlings. Had he lain on a bed


232 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
of his own making, it would have been justice—strict
justice; but that fools should prepare him a feather
mattress and downy pillow seemed, and really was,
intolerable. Thinking of the Duke's wasted and mis-
placed affection, Leah plucked the fruit of her Tree of
Knowledge. "Good people need missionaries," said Lady
Jim.
However, as Jim and she had occupied separate
rooms for many a long day, his featherbpdism troubled
her little. Also, Askew had been brought to heel by
the promise of future bones. The plot was being
rounded off in far Jamaica without her aid, and what
with Sir Billy's winnings and a moderate cheque cajoled
out of the Duke, she had enough to keep the wolf from
the Curzon Street door. On the whole, things could
not be improved, and it only remained to exercise
patience. But of this virtue Leah possessed little, and
did not care to expend what she had in twiddling her
thumbs at home. Jim was away, so she could play—
and did. A masked ball at Covent Garden amused
her immensely; the plays condemned by Sir Billy
found in her a lenient critic; and now that Pentland
had paid off old bills, she ran up new ones with the
zest of a woman who required nothing. Also, she went
to Epsom, and pulled off a decent sum on a tip
breathed into her ear by the racing baronet, whom she
had snubbed into slangy admiration. To Hurlingham
and Richmond she meed a split-new motor-car of the
latest pattern, and exhibited her nerve and skill in the
Park. Chaiity bazaars, Savoy dinners, bridge parties,
Sunday river excursions, and such-like time-killers
beheld her in varied and tasteful frocks, and she also
dined with those friends upon whose cook she could


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET' 233
rely. Altogether, she enjoyed the life of a nusy
idler, and had that remarkably agreeable time vhich
magnificent health, comparative wealth, and a conscience
of no importance would give to such a woman. But
her head duly governed her frivolities, and she made no
plans for the Covves week, although she knew a
manageable man with a delightful yacht. The daily
expected decease of Jim had to be considered, and
thoughtful Leah hud already designed her mourning.
Meanwhile, she babbled of Biskra to Lady Canvey, and
rather overdid it.
"Are you and Jim going on a second honeymoon?"
inquired that suspicious old dame.
"We are," replied Leah, calmly. "How clever of you
to guess it!"
"Humph! The poor wretch must be worse than I
thought."
"I see; my affection, to your mind, is too obvious."
"The non-existent can never manifest itself," said
Lady Canvey, in scientific English. "Either a miracle
has happened to give you a heart, or Jim is dying,
and you are getting ready to dance on his grave."
Leah coloured with suppressed anger. This plain
speaking annoyed her, and she disliked people who
peeped behind the scenes. "Jim and I are not angels,
godmother," she said with dignity; "but we're pals
enough to make me regret his death. My mourning,
though you may doubt it, will be perfectly sincere."
Lady Canvey gave a dry laugh. "See Carlyle on the
4Philosophy of Clothes.' Well, I shan't pay your bill
at Jay's."
"Thanks. I don't ask you to. The total might
involve a larger cheque than you would care to sign,"


234 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"I'm sure of that, my dear, seeing your mourning
is to be perfectly sincere."
The impracticable old woman and her god-daughter
were alone, else this snapping might not have occurred.
Leah had rather neglected Lady Canvey of late, because
that astute octogenarian had locked up her cheque-book.
But on her way to an "At Home" she had looked
in for a few moments, and sat in the stuffy Victorian
room, radiant in a crepe ninon frock of Parma violet,
elaborately flounced, and with a fichu and short sleeves.
The dress was simple enough, and she wore little
jewellery; but her dazzling neck and shoulders and
arms, her glorious hair and calm strong face, would
have made her noticeable even in a crowd of picked
beauties. Lady Canvey, whose ill-humour was mostly
surface-crabbedness, for she preferred losing a friend
to withholding an epigram, could not refrain from
grudging compliments. But between women these rang
hollow.
"You look charming to-night, my dear."
"After the storm, the sunshine," said Lady Jim,
smiling at such novel civility. "Well, I appreciate
the change. Whatever my faults may be, godmother,
you cannot say that I am disagreeable. I always call,
in spite of your—your—what shall we say?"
"Home-truths! And you call when it suits you.
Humph! Perhaps I am a trifle short-tempered."
"A trifle!"
"Old age has its privileges," Lady Canvey reminded
her; "and you can be so cleverly nasty when you
like, that it amuses me to bring the worst out of you."
"What a doubtful compliment! Do you extract
amusement from the Tallentire girl in the same way?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 235
"She has no bad in her."
"Quite so, and you never try to bri ig out the good
which does not amuse you. Sunday schools are bene-
ficial rather than entertaining. I don't see Miss—
what's her name?" and Lady Jim glanced round the
room.
"Joan Tallontire," snapped her hostess; "you remem-
ber the name well enough. It's fashionable to have
a short memory, I suppose."
"For debts," said Leah, sweetly; "but Miss
Tallentire?"
"She is looking after her father's house, as the
mother is ill."
"Poor woman! I hope Lionel is not preaching at
her, to make her worse."
"Lionel isn't always in the pulpit. By the way,
Leah, he told me that he had a serious talk with you
at Firmingham."
"Did he? Yes! I believe he did give me a dull
quarter of an hour. Something about sin, I fancy it
was. Parsons have a monomania on that subject."
Lady Canvey made an angry noise in her wrinkled
throat. "You're impossible," she pronounced tartly.
"Lionel wishes to improve you."
"What about Jim? Charity should commence with
his own family."
"Well, my dear. Lionel admires you, and"
"Oh! He is a man, then. I don't think I ever made
running with a clergyman; it might be rather fun.
I suppose Lionel would recite the Song of Solomon to
me—there's lots of love-talk in it. Not very proper
talk, either, I'm told. Perhaps Solomon wrote it for
married women; he had some experience of them, hadn't


236 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
he? He collected concubines, didn't he?—just like a
stamp-maniac."
"Leah, you're insufferable."
"And impossible!" She rose to go, and arranged the
fur-lined Medici collar of her evening wrap in the dim
mirror. "But I'm about to be punishod for my sins.
The Duke made me promise to go to this At Home.
Mrs. Saracen, you know— she's one of the submerged
Upper Ten, or she married one of them; I forget which,
though I know she has something to do with a pickle,
or a sauce. Very amusing old thing, too. She gives
you a nutshell biography of every one before she
introduces."
"What on earth for?"
"Oh, so that you may be warned against people's
skeletons. Mrs. Saracen points out the cupboard and
tells you not to open it, and of course you do."
Lady Canvey chuckled. "Rather clever. And her
friends?"
"Male and female, I believe. She collects people
who have done something."
"In the criminal way?"
"She would, if the law allowed them out of gaol.
But at present she contents herself with freaks. I
don't go to middle-class menageries as a rule, but at
the Duke's request I patronise this one."
"Come to-morrow and tell me all about it."
"If you'll promise to be nice."
Her godmother was silent for a moment. "Leah, my
dear," she said at length, taking the gloved hand,
"I am sorry we always quarrel when we meet. I
really have a corner in my heart for you, and if you
were only less—less—" Lady Canvey hunted for the


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 237
right word—"less exasperating, we should get on
excellently."
Lady Jim nodded, squeezed the hony hands, and
kissed the wrinkled cheek.
"Let us make a fresh start," she said gently, for
she really felt sorry. "I'll come every day while
Miss Tallentire is absent and tell you the news."
"That's a good girl. Good-night. Enjoy yourself,
my dear"; and the two parted better friends than they
had been for months.
On her way to Mrs. Saracen, who lived in the wilds
of Kensington, Leah saw herself in the new character
of dry-nurse to a spiteful old harridan, and wondered
at her good-nature. Why should she bore herself with
a spent octogenarian, whose sole attraction was the
possession of money, with which she dechned to part 1
Yet Lady Jim had promised daily visits to this ruin,
and what is more, for no reason discoverable to herself,
intended to keep her promise, even though there was
nothing to be gained by such self-denial. The idea that
she, of all people, should do something for nothing,
tickled her greatly, and the street-lamps swinging past
the brougham flashed on an amused face. She was so
pleased with discovering virtue in such an unexpected
quarter that she quite forgot to look mournful when
her hostess inquired after Jim's health.
The waist upon which the Honourable Mrs. Saracen
had prided herself somewhere about the middle of the
nineteenth century was now a matter of guess-work.
Her stoutness impressed even the unobservant with
the conviction that she had eaten her way through
life, and was at present engaged in digging a not-far-off
grave with her teeth. And, for her age, she had an


238 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
astonishingly good set, obtrusively genuine. Hei
general appearance was in keeping, for she wore her
own white hair in smooth bands, under a Waterloo
turban, fearfully and wonderfully made, and presented
a natural face of winter-apple rosinoss, scored with good-
humoured wrinkles. As Nature had made her, and
Time had aged her, so she was, growing old healthily,
if not gracefully. In an alarming dress, many-coloured
as Joseph's coat, she wheezed like a plethoric poodle,
and rolled in a nautical manner by reason of her bulk.
Who would have guessed at a brain hidden in this
ponderous mass of adipose?
Yet she was a self-made woman, who had acquired
a large fortune by the sale of " Saracen's Sauce." There-
fore did current gossip accuse her of beginning life
as a cook. A perfect invention, this, as she was a
gentlewoman who had, intellectually, married beneath
her—that is, she had bought with the sauce money a
scampish aristocrat of the Jim Kaimes type, only le.ss
manly. He had long since drank himself into the
family vault, and had left his wife with one son, who
was now in the army. Every one liked Mrs. Saracen,
in spite of her eccentricities, and love of glaring colours,
and many a society pauper had reason to thank her
for timely help. And to cap her good qualities, she
professed open pride in the sauce, which appeared
on every middle-class dinner-table throughout the
three kingdoms.
"Dear Lady James," she wheezed, wagging two fat
hands, like a seal its flappers, "how good of you to
come! You will find some interesting people here "—sho
looked round with pride at the collection of lions, old
and young, tame and wild, fat and lean, sham and


LADY TIM OF CURZON STREET 239
real. "Now, Mr. Wallace here—let me present him.
Charming man—very outspoken—great traveller—
Zambesi—knows cannibals intimately!" Then, behind a
plump hand, whispered a nutshell biography, "Don't
mention his wife—divorce."
Thus warned, Leah got on excellently with the lean,
brown, keen-eyed man, who confessed to extensive
explorations. "Cannibals ?—yes, Lady James, T know a
few and love them."
"What strange affection, Mr. Wallace! Why?"
"They ate a man I detested. I fear he disagreed
with them in death, as he always disagreed with me
in life."
Lady Jim laughed. "Is there any one here you would
like to make a side-dish of?" she asked, letting her
eyes rove.
"No; I am a complete stranger in London. It is
the one place I have not explored. But Mrs. Saracen
has told me the past of many here, and I can give
you histories, if you like."
"Go on, then. Only don't give me dates, else the
women here might scratch. I don't know these
creatures myself," she went on, with the calm insolence
of a great lady; "to me they are like your Central
African natives."
"I agree, Lady James—only less civilised."
"In what way?"
"Niggers wear no clothes, and, therefore, are more
modest."
"I can quite imagine it. That thin lady over there
is evidently of your opinion "; and Leah glanced at a
mature damsel who wore just sufficient clothing to
prevent interference by the police.


240 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Miss Fastine? She's a Naturopath, and is trying
to revert to primitive simplicity."
"With such a figure she might stop short of the
Garden of Eden," said Lady Jim, dryly. "I never
heard of a Naturopath. What is it?"
"An American sect, which needs solitude to carry
out its theories. The members sleep in the open,
cover themselves with earth when they feel sick, and
advocate the altogether."
"You are joking, Mr. Wallace."
The traveller stifled a laugh. "Upon my word, Lady
James, I am in earnest. The sect really does exist.
That stout man talking to Mrs. Saracen belongs to
another queer lot. Calls himself an Osteopath."
"What on earth is that?"
"One who cures by vitalising the nerves."
"I am as wise as I was before. Any more freaks?"
"Yonder is a Christian Scientist. And the man
on the left advocates Mahomedanism as the State
religion in England."
"While the dressmakers charge so ruinously, he'll
never induce men to take four wives. And the woman
in the red dress?"
"Lady Tansey—a believer in spirits."
"So I should imagine," said Lady Jim, surveying
the lady's nose, which was long and thin and the hue
of her gown.
"No, no! I talk of heavenly spirits. Lady Tansey
has a large circle of departed friends, who rap."
"What a bore! As if one didn't get enough of friends
in this world, without worrying them to knock out Lad
grammar from the next. Really, Mr. Wrallace, I begin
to think Mrs. Saracen must keep a lunatic asylum."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 241
"Oh dear no," he answered, chuckling. "It is the
eane people that are usually shut up."
"Certainly not the disagreeable people," retorted
Lady Jim.
"Oh, if you go to those lengths, there would be no
society," said Wallace, with a shrug.
The traveller's cynicism exactly suited Leah's humour
at the moment, and she made him take her in to supper.
Meanwhile, Askew, who had not seen Lady Jim arrive,
was watching the grand entrance with a lowering face.
He had called at Curzon Street, and thence had borne
a message for Leah which he was anxious to deliver.
Already he had been bored to distraction with faddists
and their whims, and was seriously thinking of slipping
away, when Mrs. Saracen bore down on him for the
fourth time. Before he could object she had him by
the arm, and confronted him with a severe-looking
woman, pensive and solitary.
"Do let me introduce you to Miss Galway," she
wheezed. "You'll get on so well with Mr. Askew, dear
Miss Galway. He's navy, you know, or has been—
left it—going to be married. And Mr. Askew, if you
can talk of Phoenician inscriptions to Miss Galway, she'll
entertain you for hours. Quite an authority on Solomon,
I believe—very clever, most intellectual!" Then aside,
hastily: "Say nothing about her brother—jail!"
Poor Askew! Miss Galway proved to be a limpet, and
held on to him desperately, not because he was hand-
some, but for the sake of the two ears he possessed,
into which she could pour her archaeological triumphs.
She prosed in a manly voice about Hiram of Tyre
and the building of Solomon's Temple, and the proba-
bility that its design was copied from the Shrine of
16


242 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Molocb, and the remains that Zerubbabel must have
found after the Babylonian captivity, until his poor
head buzzed like a saw-mill. In the hope of stopping
this endless trickle of nothings he cajoled her to the
supper-room. There, at a small table well-coveiod,
Lady Jim ate and drank and chatted, light-heartedly,
with a sharp-eyed, sun-dried mummy. She nodded a
"How d'y do?" to her sailor, and smilingly observed Lis
entanglement. Luckily for the preservation of Askew's
temper, a rival archseologist arrived to discuss Hittite
grammar, and he managed to slip away while the male
and female dryasdusts wrangled over the probable
origin of the Perizzites.
"You haven't been near me all the evening," com-
plained Leah, when Wallace received his conge and
Askew sat in the seat of the scornful.
"Didn't see you arrive, worse luck. If you'd been
dosed with Hivites and Jebusites and all that truck, as
I've been, you'd have a headache, too."
"It's unusual for you to have a headache."
"And inevitable for me to have a heartache."
"On account of that alphabet woman, I suppose.
Why don't you feed?"
"No appetite. But if you'll come along to the
Cecil"
"Certainly not. We've been there much too often of
late. People will talk."
"Let them! What does it matter?"
"Everything matters, when people have tongues and
eyes, and envious natures. Don't be silly. I promised
the Duke to stop here for half au hour. And after all,
it's amusing. I never knew such people existed out-
side Punch. Well—what now?" This because, with


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 243
sudden recollection of an oversight, he brought out an
envelope.
"This was waiting at Curzon Street," he explained,
handing it across, "and the butler, thinking it might
be important asked me to Why, what's the matter,
Leah?"
It was his turn to inquire, for, reading while he
talked, she had suddenly whitened. "Don't call me
Leah," she snapped, with the irritation of a shaken
woman, then re-read the cablegram, again and again.
"What is it ?—what is it?"
"My husband is—dead!" She crushed the paper into
a ball, rose to go, and dropped back, overwhelmingly
faint. "Oh!" she moaned faintly. For once in her
life of shams and sneering and playing with other-
world fires she was moved to genuine emotion.


CHAPTER XLS
Leah's emotion—as she felt—was almost cruelly
genuine. It bore the trademark of sincerity; it made
her heart hammer furiously against her ribs, and drove
the blood from he.- cheeks. Yet she knew that Jim
still lived; that the lying cablegram was but a
necessary card to play for the winning of large stakes.
For once, the expected had happened—that was all.
Why then should she exhibit emotions which could not
possibly have been caused by the excuse offered to the
public. Her heart replied with brutal directness, that
she had crossed the Old Bailey Rubicon, and was
actually participating in a crime. The last word shook
her out of cotton-wool wrappings into a naked world.
Up to the receipt of the cablegram she could have
drawn back. Now, fully committed to the adventure,
she was compelled to tread a perilous path. A criminal!
Yes: she had been one in intention, which mattered
little; she was now criminal in fact, and that meant
punishment. Her imagination conjured up visions of
the possible. The judge spoke, the prison gaped, the
bolts shot home, Curzon Street was exchanged for
Wormwood Scrubbs. Ugh! But after all, such queasy
thoughts were unnecessary. If she had broken the
eighth commandment, she fully intended to keep the
eleventh and unwritten one, "Thou shalt not be found


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 245
The truth to Mrs. Saracen, excusing a hasty de-
parture, served to circulate the fiction of Jim's death,
which the widow wished to be speedily and widely
known. She could not have selected a bell with a
better clapper. Promulgated by the "sauce queen," the
gad invention shortly became town-talk, and, dissemi-
nated by myriad tongues, ran like a prairie fire through-
out Society, with a capital letter. A more weighty bag
on the postman's back resulted, and commiserating
platitudes showered on Leah, as thick as the over-
quoted leaves of Vallombrosa. She glanced through
many, replied to a few, and burned—very wisely—the
majority. Between-whiles her attention was given to
parcels from Jay's, and considerations of widows' caps,
and the recognition that the feminine uniform of woe
clothed with marked distinction a really beautiful
mourner. To women, grief has its consolations in crape
millinery.
Seclusion was necessary in those days of lamentation,
but none the less wearisome. To play the nun, while
people scattered to Oowes and the Continent, chafed
the chameleon woman. Some intimate sympathisers she
received, and to these she matched mournful words
with a mournful countenance. With the blinds half
down and sal volatile at hand, in a becoming gown,
and using a handkerchief, three inches black-bordered,
to redden the driest of eyes, Lady Jim held funereal re-
ceptions, and spoke in low tones of her late husband's
hitherto unknown good qualities. His palpable evils
she cloaked with the "his-own-worst-enemy" phrase;
and mentioned twice that, if not an angel, he at least
had been a man. The visitor addressed made her exit
expressing hopes that Lord James was an angel now,


246 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
and the door closed in time to prevent her seeing
Leah's enjoyment of the picture thus flashed on her
amused mind. "Jim, an angel!" murmured the
widow, wiping away real tears. "He'd bet on his flying."
With the Duke she played her comedy of sorrow
very prettily. Pentland and Frith arrived in haste,
while the Marchioness hurried on beforehand, to prepare
Leah for the interview. But she was already word-
perfect in her part. Aware that Lord Frith would
discredit ostentatious grief, she assumed the position of
a shocked rather than a broken-hearted widow, though
she said nothing but what might have been inscribed
on Jim's tombstone. Not a crocodile tear did she shed
under Frith's too-observant eyes, but sat near the
Duke, holding his gouty lean hand, and skilfully im-
pressed the trio with the belief that she and the
deceased had not been so far asunder as was supposed—
the corollary of such impression being that she honestly
regretted Jim's untimely demise. No more could be
expected, even from the most forgiving woman, and no
more was demanded by the ducal family.
After these preliminary condolences Pentland sug-
gested that Leah should come to Firmingham for the
funeral. It was necessary to agree to this, and she did
with graceful readiness; only intimating that she
would remain in town, until the remains arrived at
Southampton. Even as she made the stipulation, she
wondered how Demetrius had contrived to transfer
Garth's body from Madeira to Jamaica for the
deception.
"I thought poor Jim would have been buried where
he died," she remarked tentatively.
The Duke was shocked. "Certainly not. Jim, poor


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 247
fellow, must rest with his ancestors. We must look
upon his face for the last time."
Leah plucked nervously at her black gown, and
wondered if the Russian was wise in submitting a sub-
stituted corpse to family scrutiny. "They say that
death changes people," she ventured uneasily, "and of
course, embalming"
"Just what I said to Bunny," interrupted Lady
Frith, in too vivacious a tone for the occasion. "We
shall hardly know Jim with the soul out of him."
"My—dear—Hilda!"
"Well, Bunny, you know souls aren't buried."
"They go to a better world, as Jim's has gone,"
mourned the doting father.
Frith looked doubtfully at his sister-in-law. The less
said about Jim's destination, the better: therefore did
he crush sentiment with dry business. "I expect
Demetrius will arrive with the remains about the end
of the month,' said he, in the hardest of voices; "after
the funeral, we can see about the will."
"It leaves everything to Leah," his father informed him.
"Indeed! And what had Jim to leave behind him
besides his character?"
"The insurance money."
"Oh—ah—yes. Jarvey Peel's present. Twenty
thousand pounds—eh?"
"And accumulations," supplemented Lady Jim; "but
need we talk of such things, now?" and she sighed the
conversation back to sentiment.
"Quite so—quite so," quavered the Duke, shaking his
head; "terrible loss to you, my dear—and your natural
grief, and—hum-hum "Further fossilised phrases
escaped his memory.


248 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"1 certainly feel for poor J im," said Leah, with
sedate dignity: "he had his faults, of course ; but then,
so have I."
Your kind remembrance of Jim excuses the few yon
possess," was Pentland's reply; while Frith, compressing
his thin lips, made no remark.
Indeed, there was no chance, for Hilda clamoured that
Leah should come to her house for beef-tea and con-
solation. She had never agreed with her more sceptical
husband about the Curzon Street menage, and credited
Lady Jim with the requisite virtues of a genuine widow.
"Your strength must be kept up, dear," she babbled,
as though she expected Leah to faint then and there.
"I know exactly how you feel. Just as I should, if
Bunny became an angel. But we must all die, dear
Leah, and death is the gate of life, and"
"Can't you leave these proverbial condolences to
Lionel?" broke in her exasperated husband.
"Oh, Bunny "—with a wail—" the sacred dead."
"Let the child talk," commanded Pentland; "she
expresses my feelings."
Thus encouraged, tbe child did talk, and Lady Jim
listened with a bent head to original remarks about
Time, the great consoler, and meetings on a golden shore,
to part no more, and keeping the loved memory green,
and bowing to the inevitable, and such-like official
utterances, without which no funeral is complete.
When Hilda stopped for want of breath and memory,
Leah kissed her with the affection of one deeply moved,
and observed that she was tired. And indeed she was—
bored to death, in fact. So the Marchioness, pleased
with her plagiarised eloquence, took leave tactfully and
tearfully on the Duke's arm. Frith lingered.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 249
"Why don't you laugh?" he said dryly.
"At Hilda in the pulpit? Why should I. She
means well."
"Huh! I allude to your demure listening. I do
not wish to speak ill of the dead, and, after all, Jim was
my brother. But are you really and truly sorry?"
"In a way, if you will press for an answer. One
can't live five years with a man without missing him
at the breakfast-table."
"Hum! Though you and I pretend otherwise, to
console my father, we know that Jim was no saint."
"Am I?" she asked, shrugging.
"Politeness forbids my answering that question."
"I don't see what politeness has to do with this
interview. Have you remained to make yourself
disagreeable?"
"On my honour, no. You're a clever woman, Leah,
and as a scamp's wife you have conducted yourself
admirably."
"As I am now the scamp's widow, had that not
better have been left unsaid?"
Frith shrugged in his turn. "I suppose so, since we
have agreed to call black white. But I waited to say
that I'll help you in any way you wish."
Leah was surprised, and touched. She and Frith
had never been good friends. Apparently, he was not
such a bad sort after all. But what was behind this
offer? Her ineradicable suspicion of human nature
made her doubt, though she spared him the question.
"It is very good of you," said she, cordially, " but with
the insurance money and this house, which your father
says I can retain, I shall do very well. There is no
need for you to open your purse, or your heart"


2SO LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
The Marquis hunched his shoulders and let them
drop. "Hum," he repeated, biting his forefinger; "you
will be marrying again?"
"What has that to do with you?" she flashed out,
haughtily.
"Well, you bear our family name," he reminded her,
"and Demetrius"
Lndy Jim felt qualmish. "Demetrius?" she echoed
faintly. What could Frith possibly have to say about
the prime mover in the plot?
"The man is crazy about you," said he, frowning.
"I can't help lunatics being at large," said Leah,
reassured as to his meaning and at once on the defensive.
"Have I encouraged him?"
He hastened to protest. "Oh no. As I said before,
your conduct as Jim's wife has been admirable—truly
admirable. But I should not like to see you marry
Demetrius."
"Why should you think me willing to do so?"
"I don't, since the man is a foreigner and poor and
untitled."
"He can be a prince and wealthy, if he chooses to be
reconciled with the Russian authorities."
"Even then, Leah, do you really like this man?"
"As a clever doctor and an amusing talker—yes.
Well?"
Frith, baffled and perplexed, bit his finger again.
"He is devoted to you; they talk of it at the clubs.
No, no," hurriedly, as she turned crimson with indigna-
tion; "there's not a word said against you. But this
absurd infatuation—and you a widow; these foreigners
go to ridiculous lengths, so you see"
"I certainly do not see," interrupted Leah, with


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 251
conviction. "Did you offer assistance so that you might
meddle?"
"Oh no, no," protested the Marquis, looking shocked;
"but you have behaved so well as Jim's wife"
"That is the third time you have said so, and I am
by no means stupid. It seems to me," she looked straight
at him, "that you believe M. Demetrius will ask me
to marry him."
"Yes, I do think so."
"Will it ease your mind if I say that I have no
intention of accepting any impertinent proposal he may
make?"
"It will and it does," said Frith, bluntly. "I should
not like to see you throw yourself away on that man.
Should you marry again"
"It will be entirely my own affair.'
"Of course, of course. All the same"
"Quite so! Good-day, Lord Frith."
He smiled grimly, seeing that she would not permit
him to finish a single sentence. "Am I to take your
use of my title as an intimation that we are to be
strangers?"
"To the extent of supervision, yes."
"But you can't manage things unaided."
"That also is my business. As your interference is
concerned with M. Demetrius, and I have set your
mind at rest on that point, there is no more to be
said."
"As you please. Still, this Demetrius"
"Oh, Demetrius," she echoed, enraged by this parrot
repetition. "I never wish to hear his name or set
eyes on his face again."
This was true enough. Now that the Russian had


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 253
consider the matter. The funeral, the procuring of the
insurance money, natural grief, for the tricking of the
world, and the regulation period of mourning—she
could oppose these obstacles, should Demetrius press
his suit unduly hard. This being so, she flung off the
burden for the time being, although the necessity of
settling the matter, sooner or later, haunted her
thoughts. Such insistence of the disagreeable broke
up her rest, and she would waken at dawn, to plot
esciipe. Chloral, occasionally, aided her to sleep the
difficulty out of her head: but she detested drugs
that demand extortionate repayment for their kind-
ness, and used narcotic discreetly. A week of these
haggard hauntings aged her. Anxiety became apparent
in hollow eyes and colourless cheeks. One day, with
outspoken horror, she discovered an entirely new
wrinkle, and noted later that the unexpected opening
of a door caused her nerves to jump. Kind friends
ascribed such things to commendable sorrow for the
dead, and Leah tacitly accepted their comforting and
petting on this obvious plea. But not to regret a
thousand Jims would she have risked her beauty;
as, after her tongue—for Leah put brains before
looks—it was her keenest-edged weapon with which
to fight the world, and was supremely powerful to
control fools.
Daily the stream of sympathising friends rolled
through the dainty drawing-room, and bore Lady
Jim away from comedy grief to more pleasant shores,
where gossip of he and she and the "tertium quid,"
interspersed with millinery discussions and shrewd
female handling of current society events, made
things more tolerable. Lady Richardson babbled


254 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
herself in, with a box of chocolate from Sir Billy—
a consolation not unpalatable to Leah, who liked
Billy and loved sweets. "Both being acquired tastes,"
said Lady Jim, but not to the little mother.
"So thoughtful of him, isn't it?" chattered Lady
Richardson, who was coloured in subdued tints, with
a gown to match, for the visit. "The dear boy! He
said to me that we must prevent you from breaking
your heart."
"And prescribes eating," said Leah, humorously.
"I never knew Sir Billy was so young. Thank him
for me, Fanny, and tell him that when T think of
taking a second I'll give him a look in."
"Oh, Billy has thought of that already—such a
boy as he is. You're sure to have a badly spelt proposal
from him, dear. But seriously speaking, will you,—oh,
of course you will."
"Why should I ?—you have not."
"My heart is buried in the grave of Billy's father,"
murmured Lady Richardson, pensively.
"Dig it up again."
"Well, there's Reggy Lake, of course; but he's so poor."
"All the more reason that he should piopose. You
have a good jointure."
"Settled entirely on myself," said the little woman,
shrewdly; then added romantically, "I must be
loved for myself alone."
"Oh!" Lady Jim shrugged. "If you expect
miracles!"
"Really, Leah!" Her visitor became pinker than her
rouge.
"I mean that men are selfish, dear. They always
have their eye on the cash-box, you know."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 255
"I hope that won't be your fate, darling," was
the spiteful reply, for Lady Richardson always scratched
back.
"Oh, my face is my fortune, Fanny. Jim, poor dear
spendthrift, has left me with only a few thousands,
which won't last long."
"I should think not, in your hands, dear. But there
is Mr. Askew and Dr. Demetrius—both admire you."
"Admiration does not necessarily mean marriage.
And at present I think more of my loss than of a
second husband."
"So sweet of yon, and so proper. But you might
take a look at the market. Mr. Trent, now, the South
African. He's a millionaire."
"So I should think, from his manners."
"Lord Canvey!"
"Would give me a grandmother-in-law of the
worst."
"Sir Jacob Machpelah!"
"The man who has taken his name from Abraham's
cemetery? I suppose he thought it sounded Scotch.
No, thanks. My name is Hebrew, but my tastes are
Gentile."
"Johi ny Danesbury!"
"A penny doll with a squeak. I want a man."
"Colonel Harrington!"
"He's a brute, without instinct. I begin to think
you keep a matrimonial agency, Fanny."
"It wouldn't pay, were you my only client," retorted
Lady Richardson, still remembering the miracle dig.
"No one seems to satisfy you. I believe you mean to
marry Askew, after all. What of him?"
"He's a nice footman, and doesn't ask wages. Aren't


256 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
these suggestions rather premature? My heart, like
yours, may be in my husband's grave."
"I didn't know he was buried yet," said the little
woman, crossly. "How impossible you are, darling!"
"Always, when people get on my nerves, dear."
"I believe you want some other woman's husband?"
*' Oh dear no! I never covet my neighbour's ass."
Shot and shell were flying rather thickly, and seeing
no chance of planting her flag on Leah's bulwarks, Lady
Richardson beat a discreet retreat, with Judas kisses
and Parthian shots. "So glad if I have cheered you
up, dear [kiss]! Bear up and don't break your heart
[kiss, kiss]! So sweet your sorrow, and so genuine
[kiss, kiss, kiss]!" And having given several Rowlands
for one Oliver, Lady Richardson departed.
"Cat!" said Lady Jim to the closed door, and settled
to munch Billy's chocolates over Marcel Prevost's
Zettres dime Femm*.


CHAPTER XX
The supposed remains of Jim Kaimes duly arrived on
British ground in charge of an extraordinarily anxious
medical attendant, and Lord Frith arranged for their
transfer to Firmingham. There, Leah was already
established as Niobe, studiously dismal in the jet-
trimmed, crape-flounced equivalent of sackcloth. With
the Marchioness, a few decayed cousins, and many hired
mourners, connected closely or distantly with the family,
she assisted the Duke to lament his Absalom. There-
fore, behind lowered blinds, in the twilight atmosphere
of the great house, did officially grief-stricken relations
move warily on tip-toe, speaking in hushed voices, with
downcast eyes, of the deceased and his post-mortem
virtues. The apotheosis of the prodigal son, who had
thus quietly come home, made the place about as
cheerful as a mausoleum.
Limiting the solemnity strictly to the family, Lionel
was requested to inter Jim's body, with the rites in
which Jim's soul had never believed. Then, for the
first time, did he behold Leah in her new character,
as hitherto a sympathetic letter had excused a personal
interview. Now, face to face, Kaimes considered the
advisability, as clergyman, relative, and friend, to ad-
minister presumably needed consolation. This last
straw broke the widow's overladen back. She had
17


258 lADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
wept with Pentland, mourned with kith and kin,
enduring also, for three dreary weeks, twaddling plati-
tudes, written and spoken, by meddlesome well-wishers.
These exasperating necessities would have been unendur-
able, even had Jim been where he deserved to be; but
that she should suffer them, when Jim was rejoicing as
Mr. Berring and expecting his share of the money she
thus laboriously earned, nearly drove her beyond the
bounds of decorum. She could have thrown the novel
she was reading at Lionel's head, and barely escaped
doing so, when he appeared in her sitting-room, almost
aggressively sympathetic. But, reflecting that with the
funeral would come a cessation of these aggravations,
and mindful that the money was almost in her purse,
she asked him to be seated and prepared to stomach
aphorisms.
"How good of you to come !" she sighed convention-
ally; then added, to avert, if possible, protracted
boredom, "I'm dull company."
"Naturally, Lady James; but I rejoice to see that
you are resigned."
"I'm not tearing my hair and gnashing my teeth, if
that is what you mean. I will, if you think Jim worthy
of such excesses."
"Hush, hush! He is dead."
"I see evidences of that on all sides of me," replied
Leah, tartly. "Shouldn't you say that he is not lost but
gone before? I believe that is one of the stock phrases
of your profession."
Lionel moved uneasily. It was difficult to whitewash
Jim, and he could not invent non-existing virtues on the
spur of the moment. "He was your husband, re-
member," was his effort to parry this thrust.


2<5o LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
finding it a marvellous relief to speak loudly and withou
reserve; "but you are honest in spite of it, and yo
don't gossip, though you are a parson. In trouble i
shall always come to you, padre."
"You are in trouble now," hinted Kaimes, smiling at
her frankness.
"Eh! What? Yes, of course, Jim's dead." She chokea
over the lie, and returned to laugh at ease in her chair.
4' Where has he gone, Lionel?"
"Don't, Lady James! I admit that he had his faults."
"Be honest. He had nothing else but faults."
"No, no! We all have our good points."
"Give me a list of Jim's," she suggested derisively.
"For the moment, I can't think"
"No; nor you wouldn't if you thought for a cen-
tury. Jim is as bad as they make 'em."
"Was—if you will abuse him."
"Oh yes, I forgot. Well, then, Jim was bad; and I
don't know if you call telling the truth abuse."
"Of the most virulent sort, on occasions. Are we
not all sinners?"
"Speak for yourself, Mr. Humility."
Lionel, amazed by this self-canonisation, became less
Aaron the priest and more Adam the natural man.
"You don't call yourself immaculate, surely," he observed
sarcastically.
"Did I?"
"By inference; and if no sinner, you must be saint."
"Ah! 1 see. Lamp-black or snow-white; grey does
not exist. Parsons see the horizon, the door-step, but
no middle distance. Woman is Lucrece or Jezebel, with
you. I am neither; but a simple woman, as God made
me."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 261
** And as the devil has marred."
"Foh! In this very room, when we spoke last, I
scouted that bogie's existence."
'If you don't believe in evil existing, you can't in
good. No devil, no God, Lady James."
"I never knew that the Deity depended upon Satan
for his being," said Leah, dryly; "and theology doesn't
amuse me—it's cobwebs and spindrift. Talk sense, if you
must talk."
Lionel, hoping to lead her by a side-path to further
consideration of her spiritual needs, consented to diverge
for the moment. "I'll talk money, if you call that
sense."
"Of course I do; uncommon sense, as there is so
little of it. Money?" She looked at him questioningly.
"The insurance on your late husband's life."
"Oh! Well?" She wondered what he was about
to say.
"The Duke asked me to interview the lawyers."
"Very unnecessary. I know all about the twenty
thousand pounds. Jim left it to me, by will."
"You underestimate by ten thousand."
"What! Thirty thousand pounds?" Then, in answer
to a nod, "Oh, you—you must be—be mistaken." Leah
was truthfully agitated. Had the gold u goose laid
two eggs instead of one?
"No; your husband's life was insured, when he
was a child, for twenty thousand pounds with profits,
at an annual premium. Mr. Jarvey Peel and his
executors paid the money to keep the insurance in
force"
"Yes, yes; and the principal was payable to Jim
at sixty, or to any one he might leave it to at death,


262 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
I, as the widow, take all—'all—all "; she repeated the
word three times, in the purring voice of a cat over
cream.
"Exactly," assented the curate, thinking she betrayed
over-plainly horse-leech parentage; "and the extra ten
thousand is the accumulation of an annual bonus of
fifteen pounds on every thousand."
"That's three hundred a year," calculated Lady Jim,
feverishly.
"Quite so. Jim was thirty-five when he died. So
three hundred a year for thirty-four years comes to
ten thousand."
"Two hundred," supplemented Lady Jim, correcting
his arithmetic. "Oh, Lord! Thirty thousand two hun-
dred pounds, and Jim never knew that he was worth
his weight in this gold."
"He never inquired, since the money would not come
to him till he attained the age of sixty."
"It would have been almost double then," commented
the lady, pensively. "What a pity Jim did not live till
But no; we should have both been old then, and there
would have been no fun. I am content with thirty
thousand—really I am, Lionel. It doesn't do to be
greedy."
"You are not," said the curate, ironically, "else you
would have again mentioned the odd hundreds."
Leah made a ball out of the torn handkerchief and
tossed it gaily in the air. "That will do for lawyers'
costs," said she, airily, "though I hope the bill won't
be so extortionate. Thirty thousand pounds!" She
sprang up, with dithyrambic utterance, scarcely re-
fraining from a war-dance. "Thirty thousand golden
sovereigns! Six thousand lovely, lovely Bank of England


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 263
notes! Oh, Vanderbilt! Oh "The sight of her rela-
tive's disgusted face curbed her ecstasy: "You think
that my exultation over this money is vulgar."
"Heartless, at least, since it is the price of your
husband's death. To you, apparently, Jim is more
valuable dead than alive."
"I entirely agree with you," confessed Leah, candidly;
then added with impatient anger, "Do you expect me
to tell you lies?"
"You might show some grief."
"Heavens! What else have I been doing for the
past three weeks 1"
"Assuming a virtue which you have not."
"That remark is too clever to be original, my dear
man. How impossible you are! I wear mourning
and cry at the right time, and say things I don't
believe about Jim to his father and the rest of them;
while to you, who blame me for behaving decently
outside, I speak as I feel, only to be condemned. What
do you expect?"
"To see you exhibit some real grief," said Lionel,
who was really angered by her callous behaviour.
"You show more genuine emotion over this miserable
money than over poor Jim."
"Poor Jim," she mocked scornfully; " are you going
to cry up his virtues?"
"He was not so bad as you make him out to be,"
retorted Lionel, doggedly.
"Then he must have revealed a side of his nature
to you which he never showed to me," snapped Leah,
sharply. "Foh! what's the use of acting to empty
benches? Go downstairs if you want an audience.
We are behind the scenes here."


264 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Very allegorical and needless. Can't you be mora
womanly?"
"If I were, the sal volatile you recommend would
be needed, I can tell you. Being a parson you will
not understand; being a man, you cannot. Womanly!
womanly!—does that imply cant and shams? Am
I to mourn with spurious lamentations that selfish
profligate, who would have broken my heart had he
ever possessed it? To be womanly is to excuse a man's
faults, to lie down and be trodden upon, to condone
unfaithfulness, and to be grateful for the shreds and
patches of an egotistic life. Never! never!" Her lips
twisted scornfully, her nostrils dilated, and she clenched
her hands to restrain an outburst of that wrath
which had consumed her during five yeare of holy
matrimony. Lionel, astonished by her sudden transition
from gay to grave, forbore interruption, and she
declaimed her marital wrongs in a Boadicean vein.
"I have read in that Bible of yours of the casting
of pearls before swine. Jim was a Gadarene pig, who
would have rent me had I loved him, as I admit a
wife should love her husband. My coldness, and what
you consider my selfishness, was my sole safeguard
against ruin and sorrow and outrage. You know that
I speak the truth—I defy you to say otherwise. Jim!
oh, Jim," she laughed unpleasantly; "Jim—that rag
doll oi his family, who is placed on a pedestal and
worshipped, as though he were the golden idol he never
was and never could be! I respect the Duke much
more than I ever respected my husband, for he is
genuinely blind to Jim's faults and mourns honestly.
But you—you, who knew the man, and rebuked the
man—oh, it w, uld be amusing were it not so shameful.''


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 265
Her bosom heaved as she hurled this speech at him,
with gibe and jeer and ironic laughter. "I thank
God that the man is out of my life," was her passionate
cry. "Yes—I thank God."
"Did you believe in God you would not say that."
"Bah! Theology again."
"And truth."
u Which is not theology and never will be."
"That depends upon belief. The science which
treats of God, and of man's duty to God, cannot be
understood by you, who have neither hope nor faith."
"At least I have charity, the greatest of the three,
which you lack."
"Give me an example."
"I credit you with honesty, while you cry me down
as a bad woman."
"Pardon me. I do not say that you are bad. Mis-
guided, rather."
"And why—according to your lights? Because I
do not put up Jim as a pig-idol, to worship with
crocodile tears?"
She silenced Kaimes for the moment, as there was
much truth in her overstated contention. No decent
woman could have loved or honoured the dead man;
and this outspoken condemnation, provable in the
main, was assuredly more honest than pretended
laudation and sham sorrow would have been. Yet the
merciless indictment jarred on Lionel's sense of pro-
priety, righteous as he knew it to be.
"The man is dead," said he, testily; "leave him to
God."
Leah held her peace. It annoyed the ordinarily self-
possessed woman, that for one fierce moment emotion


266 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
should have overleaped judgment. Reining in her
passions, she relapsed into the sober jog-trot necessary
on the rutted road of conventionality. But Lionel's
final speech provoked a laugh. Would his laudation of
the dead, she wondered, change to criticism of the
living, did he learn the truth? Feminine desire for the
last Word would have blurted out this final argument,
but that an innate masculine discretion recommended
silence. Therefore did she compromise with the laugh,
which Lionel, misunderstanding, resented with the
warmth of a generous nature.
"That is positively cruel," said he, indignantly.
"Very human, I think," said Lady Jim, yawning
away the reaction.
Following his own line of thought, the curate did not
traverse this statement. "A woman can make of a
man what she pleases."
"Possibly; but I had a beast to deal with."
"Can't you think more kindly of him, now that he
is gone?"
"No," said Leah, decisively. "I would not say so
to every one, but I do to you, out of respect for your
character."
"I am both flattered and grieved. Be lenient, Lady
James. Are you so good yourself, that you can refuse
charity to the dead?"
Leah shrugged her shoulders and crossed her feet.
"That's a trifle personal, isn't it?" she asked good-
humouredly; "like the rest of this futile conversation.
Well, for the first time and the last, I shall pay you
the compliment of defending myself. To begin with,
my friend, your definition of good and bad depends upon
dogma, so we disagree at the outset."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 267
"Let us take the primary instincts of being, and"
"Oh, I fear we have not the time to begin with
Genesis. What is left of poor Jim arrives in charge
of M. Demetrius within two hours, and I must prepare
myself for the scene there is bound to be. To be brief
in my defence, I can safely say that I am better than
most women. I never gave Jim the chances he gave
me of appearing in the divorce court. I keep my
temper, even when most provoked. I don % say nasty
things about those who run me down, and always help
those I like. I avoid the use of slang and of excessively
strong drink. I neither smoke, nor indulge in morphine.
I invariably go to church, with half a crown for the
plate ; and—and—I think that includes all my virtues.
What more would you have 1"
"Unselfishness," responded Lionel, gravely; "egotism
is your sin."
"And the world's. I might inquire with the Apostles,
and I do inquire, with all curiosity, ' Who then can be
saved ?'"
"Those whose merits do not spring from the ego,
as do yours. To you, Lady James, Satan comes in his
favourite guise, as an angel of light, and only the
Ithuriel spear of the Holy Spirit can unmask him.
Virtuous! I grant you are—because you pamper self
too much to sacrifice your position and comforts to a
love that is willing to lose the world for love alone.
Good-tempered !—why not, with a healthy body and
an equable nature? That you do not gossip is certainly
a point in your favour, although I suspect that this
abstinence is again the ego, which does not permit you
to be sufficiently interested in others to discuss their
affairs. You help those you like—feed them, as it were,


268 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
with the over-abundant crumbs from your table; in
the words of our Lord I can say, 'Do not even the
publicans so?' But would you help those you hate,
and at a sacrifice?"
"Certainly not. Why should If They would not
be even grateful."
"Quite so. You expect a reward for your gooil
deeds."
"In this world. You look for yours in the next."
"No; though I admit that the temptation is strong.
I try to serve God out of love and gratitude."
"Ridiculous, even if true. Such self-abnegation is
beyond me."
"Yes, that is what I call being really and truly
good."
"I see—that is, I don't see. You are always go
impossible."
"Nothing is impossible with God's help, as without
it nothing is possible. Listen, Lady James"; and with
his soul on fire to raise her from the material to the
spiritual, Lionel attempted reasonable argument. For
over half an hour did he preach, expound, warn,
demonstrate, quote, deduce, persuade; but at the end
of thirty-five rapid minutes he found her and himself
again at the starting point.
Leah listened critically, and even with interest.
Hindered by her limitations from seeing a satisfactory
conclusion, she declined the tournament, and retired
to watch her opponent tilt at giants which she mistook
for windmills. Said the inversely deceived Donna
Quixota: "How well you talk, Lionel! Why don't
you leave the Church and go in for Parliament?"
The curate shook the cold water of this douche out


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 269
of his ears, and rose, markedly discouraged. "I can-
not make you understand," he said sadly; "only the
Holy Spirit can convince you of your need."
"My need of what?"
"Of salvation."
"That would be adding sugar to honey, and I feel
very contented with my honey. Good health, plenty
of money, a tolerable position, and"
"And you have yet to reckon with God. All these
things come from Him, and all He can take away."
"I don't agree with you."
"Nor will you, until your pride is broken."
"That it never will be," said Leah, superbly.
"So you think in your insolence of beauty and health.
But when you come to die?"
"Well, then, I shall die, and that's all about it."
"What is the glory of the rainbow to the colour-
blind?" Lionel asked himself, and walked to the door.
There he paused to deliver himself of a final warning:
"Though you triumph in your own strength, and be
at ease in the palace of sin, yet will the reckoning
come. The Most High God—IS," and he departed.
"Word! words! words!" That was Lady Jim's
summing up of the interview.


CHAPTER XXI
In that chilly hour preceding dawn, under the searching
grey eye of earliest morning, the coffin was opened in
the presence of Pentland and his family. The like-
ness between the lawful son and the unlawful, even more
apparent in death than in life, startled the woman best
prepared to countenance a gross deception. Leah could
almost have imagined this waxen, awful face to be that
of Jim; and an emotion of genuine fear shook her to
the soul she had so deliberately burdened. Moreover,
and not without reason, that haunting thought of an
assisted death became appallingly obtrusive before these
medicated remains. Was Demetrius—was she—guilty
of ?Her will fought desperately against the sug-
gested word, and this mental struggle still further com-
pelled the revelation of elemental feelings. Streaming
tears, trembling hands, furtive glances, testified to truth-
ful terrors, breaking through calculated pretence. It
needed a scornful look from Frith the sceptic, and an
amazed stare on the part of Demetrius, to assure her
that she beheld a corpse of no importance, save as a
substitute for a living double. And even then this
ironic inspection of the false seemed but a gruesome
masquerade of Jim's lying in state, when his turn really
came.
The actuality of her feelings afforded a welcome
270


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 271
escape from further harrowings; and she left the room,
clinging to the arm of Demetrius, careless whither he
led her. The picture gallery was his goal, since its
seclusion invited no eavesdroppers, and here he experi-
mented with personally manufactured salts, pungent and
rousing. These, it soon appeared, were scarcely needed.
Lady Jim, released from the necessity of playing a grim
comedy, recovered speedily, and with recuperation came
the disposition to flick away the disagreeable.
"What a fool I am !" said Leah, enraged to discover
she was but mortal.
"A woman, a woman," murmured Demetrius,
cynically complacent.
"But no heroine. Ugh!" she shivered, and huddled
in her chair. "I shall dream of that thing for the next
year. It was so like Jim. Ugh! ugh! Horrible! horrible!"
"Why should the sight of an empty house so startle
you, madame?"
"I am in no mood for metaphors. Go away; you
will be needed to shut that thing up."
"My successor the undertaker will do that. I have
done my share."
"I only hope you have not overdone it," muttered
the woman.
"And the meaning of that remark, madame ? *
Leah wanting to know, yet, fearing to know, evaded
an answer and shirked a question. "Leave me for
a time," she entreated.
"No—if you will pardon my rudeness. We have
much to talk about."
"Cannot you wait till after the funeral?" she said
crossly. "It will look so strange, your remaining here
with me."


272 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Ah, but no, madame. To those who might speak
I am but your doctor, who has brought you here to
recover yourself."
"I am perfectly recovered—perfectly."
"In that case we can talk," he insisted.
She yielded, not being yet her old fighting self after
the soul-shaking. It was dangerous to enter upon a
contest with flawed armour, so she temporised. It
would be best, she decided, to hear his story, without
committing herself to comments. Later, when her
nerves were steady, she could answer more cautiously
the question he was about to ask at an inopportune
moment. Her wary nature declined a consideration of
marriage arrangements, to the extent of fixing a date
for a ceremony in which she did not intend to take
part. Still, he could plead, and she could, and would,
procrastinate; therefore would the viotory be with her
when this unprepared interview ended.
"Talk on," she said languidly; then added, with a
spite created by shattered nerves, " though I think it
very disagreeable of you, to make me look on that
horrid dead thing."
Demetrius was tolerant of feminine irrelevance.
"Madame, to avert possible suspicion, it was necessary."
"Undoubtedly it was necessary," admitted self-con-
tradicting woman. "But—what a risk!"
"Ah, pardon; in the dark, all oats are grey."
"I know nothing about cats, but the faces of the
dead certainly vary, M. Demetrius. And dangers
cannot be explained away by proverbs."
"In this cate the danger has explained itself. We
are now safe,"
The plural struck disagreeably on Leah's ear, and


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 273
reminded her somewhat pointedly of the readjusted
relations between herself and the doctor. "We are
now safe," she echoed, with reproving emphasis.
"Assuredly," responded Demetrius, wilfully blind.
"Monseigneur has been completely deceived; also M.
le Marquis and Madame his wife; while your tears,
my dear friend, have washed away any possible doubts
which, for my part, I do not believe existed."
Again she was faced by positive circumstances, for
the Russian's last words hinted a sarcasm which
annoyed her. It might be that, with still quivering
nerves, she looked too anxiously for causes of offence,
but the familiar ease of his manner was unpalatable.
A second implied rebuke would avail as little as had
the first, and Leah, mindful of her dignity, abstained
from indicating in words the Rubicon he was not to
cross. Demetrius knew overmuch for her to speak
authoritatively, so it was necessary to permit him the
odious intimacy of an accomplice. But he should pay
hereafter for his usurpation of such a position: that
she vowed inwardly, even while smiling on his success.
Smiling was possible now, as the prospect of an in-
evitable verbal duel braced her to abnormal self-
control.
"Sit down," she commanded abruptly. "I have yet
to learn details of your schema"
"Our scheme," he reminded her.
"You flatter me, M. Demetrius, since I cannot take
credit for your clever inventions."
"We are all in the same boat, madame."
"You, I, and ?" she glanced at him inquiringly.
"Your husband."
"Can you not grasp the fact that I am a widow }
18


274 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
When I have a husband," she smiled meaningly, "do
you think he will sanction Mr. Berring rowing in the
boat you mention?"
Suspicious people are the easiest to gull, and the
smile, rather than the words, changed the gloomy
doubter into a confiding child. Her enforced diplomacy
was gaining her ground already. "My angel! you
mean"
Leah cleverly shortened a possible rhapsody. "Of
course I do. Ah!" with a sentimental sigh; "what
have I done to be so doubted?"
"Never by me, I swear. Believe me, soul of my
soul"
"Hush!" she raised an admonitory finger to check
dithyrambic wooings at an untoward moment. "We
are yet in the wood."
"Out of it, while here—yes, here, where you so
sweetly promised we should become one "; his voice sank
tenderly.
"After certain preliminaries had been observed,
M. Demetrius."
"Say, Constantine."
"As you will, Constantine. I can deny you few
things, after what you have done."
"Yet what you deny is what I desire."
Lady Jim displayed impatience at this headlong
haste. "We are not in Verona, nor will your age
permit you to play Bomeo to a Juliet of my tempera-
ment. When my husband's body is buried "—she laughed
consciously—" and my months of mourning are ended,
then—well, then—ah, be patient, Constantine."
"Am I not to touch your finger-tips meanwhile?"
"If it is any satisfaction"; and she gave him her


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 275
hand to mumble, ruminating meanwhile on this shrink-
ing of giant to dwarf. The unendurable lasted half
a minute; then, "Be sensible, M. Demetrius."
"Ah!" the child sighed for his lost rattle; "you
descend from poetry to prose."
She nodded. "Would you versify explanations?"
"Explanations?"
"Necessary ones. How did you transfer Garth's
body to Jamaica?"
The doctor looked piteous. "To think of wasting
this golden hour," he murmured.
"Oh!" The ejaculation was careless, but the instinct
was to box a dullard's ears. "Business before pleasure,
M. Demetrius."
"At least, Constantino."
"M. Demetrius," she repeated inflexibly. "We are to
marry, well and good; but beforehand, I must under-
stand my position as a Russian princess."
The pessimism of the Slav asserted itself in renewed
doubts. "I am a simple doctor, madame."
"Very simple, if you imagine—but that can be
discussed later. Come," cajolingly to a hesitating and
sullen being, "an account of your adventures must
prove amusing. Cheer me up for the funeral."
This extraordinary conclusion staggered a man not
easily moved to amazement. "Mon Dieu!" Then in
English: "You were weeping some minutes ago,
madame."
"And I may be weeping some minutes later," she
retorted, suppressing rising irritation. "I ask explana-
tions rather than give them. Tell me how you
managed."
Shrugging away a question relative to female


276 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
weathercocks, Demetrius reluctantly obeyed. He desired
love-talk, and she hard facts; but naturally her subject
forced his subject out of sight. Man being romantio,
and woman practical, the latter invariably clips the
former's wings, lest he should soar beyond the necessities
of her hour. Moreover, his pinions rendered useless,
Demetrius could not dispute commonsense views. Thus,
dexterously managed, did he yield to a puppet, Fate,
the strings of which were pulled by obstinacy and
selfishness, blended into what Leah called firmness.
She was an adept at ticketing her vices virtues.
"That poor Garth "—the doctor mentioned his late
patient thus endearingly throughout the narrative—
"died of consumption."
"Of consumption?" Leah put the question she had
been shirking for so long with nervous emphasis, and
with short, indrawn breaths.
"Assuredly, and earlier than I expected. There was
no need to"
"I know—I know! Do not put it into words," she
fiddled with her handkerchief, looking up, down, every-
where except at her companion. "Did he suffer
much?" was her inquiring whisper.
"Not at all; he died in his sleep. Pray do not
alarm yourself, niadame; the release was a happy and
an easy one."
"I am so glad—so relieved," murmured Lady Jim,
seeing the spectre whieh had long haunted her pillow
dissolve into thin air. "You see, I thought—that is, I
fancied "she hisitated, and pas.-ed her tongue over
dry lips.
"The need did not arise," explained the doctor,
answering somuwhat contemptuously her unspoken


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 277
fears; "although I was prepared to No, do not
shudder; there is no blood on my hands, nor on yours.
We can marry in peace."
The doubly false prophecy of the last sentence pro-
voked her into ignoring the entire speech. "Go on—
please go on. Garth died a natural death at Funchal.
Well?"
"I did not say that, madame."
"Absurd I Why, your explanation"
"Is yet to come, if you will accord me a hearing ";
whereupon, accepting an impatient permission, Demetrius
slipped into the undramatic—literally so, for he avoided
oratorical snares, the high colouring of superlatives,
and the temptation to dilate on obviously sensational
moments. He might have been reciting the alphabet,
so dry was his deliver of an advisedly barren tale.
One Richard Strange, mariner—so commenced the
sober Odyssey—owned and captained a sea-gipsy,
prowling on ocean highways and in harbour byways
for the picking up of chance cargoes. As an instinctive
buccaneer, ostensibly law-abiding, he lent himself and
his tramp-steamer to whatever nefarious proposals
promised the acquisition of money at slight risks. Thus
fitted for the Russian's requirements, secret instructions
brought him to anchor in Funchal Bay. With him
sailed, for possible restoration to health, a consumptive
nephew, Heme by name, also a factor in an admirably
conceived scheme.
"The dead was necessary for the living, and the dead
for the dead," said Demetrius, paradoxically.
"What do you mean by that ?" questioned Lady Jim,
very naturally.
"The body of that poor Garth had to be buried in


278 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Madeira, madame; yet, being wanted here, to pass as
the corpse of your husband, it was necessary to arrange
for a substitute."
"I understand. Heme was to pass as Garth, and
Garth as Jim."
Demetrius assented and proceeded. With his two
patients the doctor lodged at a second-rate hotel, not
a stone's-throw from the shore. In due time Ilerr.e
died, and Demetrius, at once transferring the body to
Garth's bedroom, induced the surviving consumptive to
board the Stormy Petrel—so the sea-gipsy was named—
for the purpose of informing its skipper of his relative's
death. Strange, previously advised, detained the young
man, and Demetrius proceeded to bury Heme under
the prisoner's name.
"An easier task than you would think, madnme,"
he explained; "for the Portuguese landlord confused
the names of my patients, owing to his ignorance of
their language."
"But scarcely of their appearance, I should think,"
observed Lady Jim, shrewdly.
Demetrius shrugged away the objection. "I cannot
say that the landlord had studied Lavater. To his
uninformed eye, two fair young Englishmen were much
alike; and consumption, madame, begets a family
likeness in those it afflicts. I assure you that this
Portuguese was as satisfied that my poor Garth had
died, as is Monseigneur convinced that his son lies in
the coffin we inspected."
Leah shuddered for the twentieth time at the mental
picture evoked. "Ugh! What then?"
The doctor informed her placidly. As Garth, under
a tombstone suitably inscribed, the skipper's nephew


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 279
was buried—the very fact that he had existed thus
being blotted out by a chiselled lie. Then did the
sea-tramp loaf—the word is appropriate—over-seas to
Jamaica at a slow ten knots an hour; with bad luck
it would seem to one passenger, at least.
"He died on board," exclaimed the listener.
"That poor Garth—ah yes; as a child did he fall
asleep, to waken "Demetrius spread his hands,
at a loss to supply further information. His ideas of
a future state were vague.
With an admirably embalmed body on board, the
disreputable craft of Captain Strange slipped her
anchors in Kingston Harbour; but no half-masted
ensign intimated her lugubrious cargo. Lord James
Kaimes, forewarned by a cypher letter, rowed out to
inspect an eidolon of himself, as he would one day
appear. His nerves being shaken by enforced in-
validism, he did not appreciate the sight. Also, the
medicines of Demetrius, given to induce counterfeit
consumption and lean, sallow looks, made him fear lest
this rascally comedy should deepen into a real tragedy
for himself. Those in Kingston with whom he had
made acquaintance were not surprised when Demetrius
took him eastward to the famous Blue Mountains, in
the hope that the healing air would mend his lungs;
nor did any one manifest astonishment when, after a
discreet period, news came of his death. Perhaps, if
these sympathisers had seen one James Berring sneak
on board the Stormy Petrel, and had beheld that ship
rolling south to Buenos Ayres, they would have ex-
pended less pity on his untimely decease. As it was,
while Jim foregathered with the skipper—a man after
his own buccaneering heart—former acquaintances,


28o LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Government officials, and local doctors were compli-
menting Demetrius on the clever way in which he
had embalmed the late James Kaimes' body, with such
few scientific appliances as could be at hand in the
Blue Mountains.
"They had no suspicion—these people?" questioned
Leah, abruptly.
"I assure you, no, madame. My mummy, you saw
it, yourself."
Leah rose, lest her mind's eye should conceive too
vivid a picture. "I shall always see it," she murmured,
with loathing. "Ugh! What a fool I am—what
a fooll"
"A woman, a woman. And so, madame, we re-
commence our conversation."
"It has already lasted too long," she rejoined. "Lord
Frith "Here she stopped, too discreet to repeat
club gossip, which might strengthen still more the
already strong position of Demetrius.
"You were about to observe, madame?"
"Nothing! It is of no moment. You are sure all
is safe—sure?"
"As sure as I am that we, yon and I, shall be
happy."
"Sentiment and business mix about as well as snow
and fire," snapped Leah, yet ridden by a nightmare
memory of that dead face; "but this sailor whose
nephew you borrowed?"
: "Captain Strange? He will say what I will."
"At a price, no doubt."
"Of the smallest, madame. One thousand pounds."
"Ridiculous! Extortionate!"
"One cannot make an omelette without breaking


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 281
eggs.' said Demetrius, in dry tones; "it would be well
not to vex my friend Strange."
"Who wants to vex him? He shall have his money.
Anything else?"
"This letter from your late husband "; and Demetrius
handed over an envelope directed in Jim's sprawling
hand, and sealed with Jim's ancestral coat of arms.
"Fool I" was Leah's comment on this carelessness.
"Doesn't he know he is dead, and is about to be
buried?" She thrust the letter hastily into her pocket
and was about to hurry away, when she caught a
glimpse of the Russian's darkening face. She paused
wisely, to dismiss him with a compliment. "You have
managed splendidly, M. Demetrius."
"Do I not deserve to be called Constantino, now?"
"Yea—no—that is—oh, don't bother"; Lady Jim
snatched away the hand he had captured. "You
foreigners never learn sense."
"Are you teaching it to me nowt" he asked in a
metallic voice.
"I am—if you are clever enough to learn the lesson.
See as little of me as possible, and don't speak to me
at all. When Jim—that is, when Garth—is buried,
we shall see."
"But, madamo"
"Quite so. Consider your objections answered."
"They will be answered," said Demetrius, very dis-
tinctly, "before the altar of any church you may
select."
A remembrance of his capacity for being dangerous,
and an anxious survey of his narrowing eyes, made
her deceptive. She diplomatically employed feminine
strategy, against which no man living can manoeuvre.


282 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"You doubt me, Constantine," whispered the shc-
Judas, with trembling tenderness; "will not this?"
She bent forward to drop a butterfly kiss on his fore-
head, and left him dazed, in the seventh and most
exalted Paradise of Fools.
"Faugh!" said Lady Jim, when shut up in her own
room. There she read the communication from her
legally deceased husband. It narrated a story similar
to that detailed by Demetrius, but scarcely so concisely.
Mr. Berring showed a disposition to ramble, and his
excursions ended on every occasion in a command to
send half the insurance money at once—the last two
words being aggressively underlined. He was in the
best of health, on his way to Buenos Ayres; thence
would travel to Bosario—" where that woman lives,"
commented Leah, tearing off the address and carefully
burning Jim's maunderings. "Half the money—eh?
Fifteen thousand pounds! I think not, Mr. Berring.
That captain, too, with his absurd charge, and after
all my trouble! I wonder Demetrius does not claim
bis share, also."
It would have been cheaper had he done so, since
she possessed the money and he intended to possess her.
But he would refuse a cheque and claim her hand,
as she reflected with impotent rage. What a pity
she could not pay him off, and, along with Jim and
Strange, dismiss him into Limbo! She did not exactly
know what Limbo was, or where it was, save that
once there these people could not bother her. But with
all the will in the world she could not get out of tho
apparent cul-de-sac she had walked into.
"Demetrius wants me, and these other beasts my
money," she raged inwardly. "What a mean advantage


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 283
they all take! Pigs! As though I worked for nothing.
What is to be done? What—what?"
This question was difficult to answer. Jim she could
bamboozle with a small sum, since he could not well
betray her without laying himself open to a charge
of conspiracy. But the Russian and the skipper, both
adventurers of the most reckless type, would assuredly
demand their wages. "I shall have to pay that
captain," she decided regretfully; "but Demetrius—in-
solent little creature!—he shall go to Siberia, even if
I have to kiss him again. Faugh!"
Then she descended to tell the Duke how the sight
of poor dear Jim's face had broken her up entirely.
Yet people said that Leah Kaimes had no sense of
humour.


CHAPTER XXII
A sociable undertaker, lacking the indispensable
humour of his brethren, bitterly complained that he
rarely inquired after a friend's health without being
suspected of business motives. Ex-lieutenant Harry
Askew found himself in a similar predicament, since
his desire to marry a widow precluded him from offering
sympathy. That he should personally, or by letter,
deplore the necessity of crape caps, would suggest
waning affection; while a congratulatory address laid
him open to the charge—which this especial widow
would certainly make—of unseemly dancing on a
newly-made grave. With laboured wisdom Askew
dropped between the horns of this dilemma. Paying
no visit, writing no letter, he compromised by leaving a
card. In this dexterous avoidance of impalement Lady
Jim read the untold story of his perplexity, and smiled
at the diplomatic evasion.
There being an exception to every rule, the absence
which should have made the Askew heart grow fonder
produced an opposite effect. Debarred from the temple
of his goddess, he began to ask himself why he wor-
shipped, and thereby dug the grave of illicit passion.
That such was now permissible, and even praiseworthy,
considering its consolatory results, only made him a
more ardent sexton. The votaries of Eros can begarland
as4


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 285
themselves with roses, but Hymen's celebrants wear
chains of approved legal pattern. Was the cultus of
the matrimonial god worth such encumbrances? Thus
Askew inquired of his own pampered self, and, not
knowing exactly what his selfishness desired, obtained
but a doubtful response. What else could he expect?
Two-faced Janus is the true god of oracles.
Lady Jim was witty, beautiful, chaste and brilliant-
admirable qualities in a woman, but in a wife, unless
informed with love, rather unattractive. Askew doubted
if a composite mate of this glittering, unwarmed sort
would satisfy his somewhat exacting requirements.
Accepting too readily the world's definition, what he and
it called love was actually selfishness, masquerading.
He fancied, and with much reason, that Leah, openly
devoted to herself, would not show devotion to him:
that is, she being selfish, and he ditto, genuine happiness
would not and could not spring from this union of like
and like. Moreover, he ignorantly loved—in the world's
sense—through his eyes, and with his lower nature; so
it was probable that the legal possession of irresponsive
beauty would pall. To limit a butterfly to one rose
would bore the butterfly, and if the rose were seiltient,
she also might feel weary. In this way, and from
surface feelings, argued Askew; but natural limitations
prevented comprehension of the true reason which
disinclined him to prosecute his now legal and therefore
uninteresting wooing.
He was a better man than he knew, and this he
would have known, had he paid heed to the intimations
of his higher self, when it occasionally overcame the
lower. When the god within overtopped the brute, he
had beheld not so clearly the body as the soul of Lola


286 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Fajardo, and had, for one swift moment, recognised that
conjunction with the spirit would best promote his
happiness. A genuine marriage must be spiritual, and
it is the souls, whom God hath joined, which man is
forbidden to put asunder. Askew's introspective self
knew that his allotted wife on this physical plane
was Lola, and that to her alone should love be given.
But the lust of the eye demanded Leah Kaimes' beauty,
and feigned a spurious passion to gain possession.
Absence from Lady Jim made him aware that he did
not actually love her, and a feeble struggle of the soul
bound in chains of selfishness revealed that he would
do well to seek Lola once more. Hence came the war
between light and darkness, wherein the light so far
triumphed that the young man sought Curzon Street
with more self-control than was desirable in an admitted
lover—one, be it known, of the worldly, material type
only. And may all such, for the well-being of the race,
be anathema maranatha!
"I took you to be more original," said Leah, when he
entered.
"Original?"
"To the extent of defying conventionality by calling
before the funeral."
"Your grief"
Needed consolation. You declined to console."
"I come now."
"At the eleventh and less necessary hour. Be-
sides "She looked meaningly towards the window-
seat, where a flushed and smiling Katinka adored with
timid conversation and eloquent eyes a rather sour
Demetrius. "Will you have a cup of tea 1"
"Thank you," and they moved towards the bamboo


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 287
table, whence she had risen to whisper her greeting
at the door.
Advisedly it would seem, since she cast a rapid
and satisfied glance at the doctor's lowering face. The
set mouth, the narrowing eyes, hard as jade, be-
tokened jealous rebuke of Leah's condescending to meet
the new-comer as royalty should be met. Reading
this index of a mind ill at ease, Lady Jim resumed
her seat, tacitly pleased. She had an end to gain,
and this over-attention to Askew meant the beginning
of plots.
It was over a month since the supposed Jim Kaimes
had been packed away in the family vault, and his
widow enjoyed the fruits of her labours. Dr. Demetrius,
looking upon the thirty thousand pounds as purchase
money, wished to possess the woman he had thus bought,
and objected to other customers eying his bargain.
Hence his jealousy discerned a rival in Askew, and
Lady Jim—aware of this clear-sightedness—was con-
tent that he should so discern. She could neither
cajole nor reason Demetrius into trusting himself
in Paris: but the desired result might be brought
about by utilising green-eyed jealousy. The unexpected
meeting of the rivals afforded her an eagerly seized
chance of putting fire to powder. The possible ex-
plosion, she hoped, would blow Demetrius into Siberian
wilds. Thus, playing with amorous fire, she hastened
to heap on lavish fuel.
"I am seeing a few friends now," said Lady
Jim, ministering to her visitors' five-o'clock wants.
"Mademoiselle Aksakoff and Dr. Demetrius—you know
both, I believe. Lady Richardson may look in later;
also "Here she checked her tongue. Aksakoff was


288 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
due in half an hour; but it would not do to advise
Demetrius of that. The chances were that Katinka,
aware of the intended visit, would carry off the doctor
early. Lady Jim devoutly wished that she would.
Her drawing-room was no stage for melodrama.
"Also?" queried the newly arrived.
"Also her son, Sir Billy. Have you met him? Of
course ! Monte Carlo! I remember. Isn't he charming
—a D'Orsay of the cradle, Brummel in embryo 1 I
have a mind to marry him, as a pocket-husband."
"Am I to wish you joy?"
Leah looked at him suddenly and understood. This
man had risen from his knees, and the chances were
—going by experience—that he would stroll away.
She did not intend to permit that, since he was neces-
sary to her schemes. Until Demetrius was safely
bestowed in Siberia he would have to be flattered
and coerced and ensnared into remaining. Then he
could go and welcome. With freedom and money she
wanted no encumbrances. And it vexes a woman
to have a man more earnest than herself hanging round
her skirts. However, this was not the time for
plain speaking, and she answered in this Thalian vein.
"Of course you must wish me joy—in a whisper."
The smiles of Leah, the attitude of Askew, the
sibilant indistinct voices of both, goaded Demetrius.
He all but interrupted the tea-table conference. But
since Lady Jim wished to be a princess—she had
conveyed that idea cleaily—and as Katinka's aid was
necessary to the recovering of his birthright, he dared
not to offend the girl. Jealous himself, Demetrius
knew how easy it would be to arouse the doubts
of another—especially of a woman. He therefore re-


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 289
mained seated and waited developments, while Katinka
chatted earnestly.
"I really wish you would be reconciled with my
father," said she.
"M. Aksakoff is less willing for such a consummation
than I, mademoiselle."
She disagreed, hurriedly. "You are wrong. My
father is willing, but your enemies are not."
"And my enemies are his enemies?" he inquired
dryly.
"Assuredly. But one enemy—Paul Petrovitch—is
my friend."
"Your cousin."
Katinka nodded and proceeded with explanations.
"He has, as you know, much influence with the Czar.
That would be used on your behalf, if "She paused,
coloured, and cast down her eyes.
"If what?"
* If I agreed to marry him."
Thin ice indeed, but Demetrius skated extremely
well. "Mademoiselle," said he, gravely, "I cut my-
self off from my princely family, and surrendered
wealth that I might work in the cause of humanity.
To assist a brother worker did I risk exile, with the
result you behold. Why, then, should I demand a
sacrifice on your part, to restore that which I person-
ally do not regret?"
"Believe me, my friend, it would mean no sacrifice.
You hinted when last we met that you were prepared
to consider the proposition of resuming your rank."
"I did—contingent on certain events happening,"
replied Demetrius, thinking that if Lady Jim insisted
upon being a princess of the drawing-rooms, he would
19


290 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
be forced to yield; "but we can talk of this in a—
well, in a few months. There is no hurry!" recalling
the necessary period of mourning. "No, there is no
hurry!" He paused, then questioned suddenly, "You
love Paul Petrovitch?"
"No, no! Ah, no!"
"It would, then, certainly be a sacrifice for you to
marry him."
"I would never do that."
"How, then, could you persuade him to use his
influence?"
"It is a case of diamond cut diamond," explained
Katinka, with the indifference of a woman to all other
honour, save that of the man she loves. "Paul Petro-
vitch wishes to marry me. If I agree, he will induce
the Czar to reinstate you in your possessions. When
you have made your peace at St. Petersburg, I could
refuse to Oh!" she broke off with a confused
laugh, "do not look shocked, M. Demetrius. I but
trick him, as he is prepared to trick me."
"I am far from being shocked," denied the liberal-
minded doctor; "to prevent being bitten, we must bite.
But the possible sacrifice"
"Lies in lending myself to such a trick. I make it
for you—for you; yes, do you not understand?"
Only that stupid animal, a sheep, could have refused
comprehension.
"I am not worthy," shuffled Demetrius, hurriedly.
"/ think you are," she breathed tenderly. "Will
you not permit me to prove my belief?"
"I shall be honoured, if—in a few months—the time
is scarcely ripe for me to move; and you will under-
stand. In short, when things are different—your noble


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 291
offer—we can discuss it later. Believe me "—he thrilled
her with a light touch—" I comprehend the nobility
of your nature. Ah, my friend, do not press me to
take advantage of so glorious a sacrifice."
So stammered Demetrius, his confusion being worse
confounded, and wrapping up refusal in evasive words,
meaningless if sugared. Xatinka sighed. Always she
pressed her mediatory offer, and alway she declined accept-
ance. Angry that the proffered gift should be flung back
in her face, she suddenly felt a sense of outrage at
his persistent quibbling. This man must see that she
loved him j yet he trifled with her too obvious passion.
There was Lady Jim, of course, in spite of Lady Jim's
readjustment of the situation at Monte Carlo. Yet,
could he, could any man, love this chilly, self-centred
Englishwoman? No! As she knew, Demetrius demanded
love for love, and he certainly would not give all to
Lady Jim without receiving back in kind. Therefore
he did not love the woman; therefore he was heart-
whole; and being so, why should he not yield to one
who was ready to suffer all for his sake? She could
not understand; but this she knew—that her self-
respect rebelled.
And at the moment, that feeling, swallowing up all
others, impelled her to walk away, without even a
backward glance. But she remained where she was,
since her adoration for this unresponsive god amounted
to monomania. She hated to cringe, to cast down
her womanly dignity; but she was forced to do so.
Passion proved stronger than self-respect, than natural
shame, than maiden pride. Enthralled by Venus, as
had been Helen of Troy, she was forced to grovel
at the feet of this—as she suspected—ignoble Paris.


292 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Would he never smile? Would he never unbend 1 She
could not say; she did not know. All she felt was
pure unhappiness, and she could have cursed the power
which trammelled her in these nets of uucL-sired love.
The gods were sporting, and Olympus shook with
laughter at her mortal sorrow.
"Come—when you need me," said she, and rose.
Demetrius was self-seeking, yet possessed human
feelings, and of these shame was uppermost. The vein
of divinity which streaked his clay made him acknow-
ledge that he was using hardly this flouted worshipper.
Outwardly at least, and with an impetuosity alien
to his calculating character, he wished to make amends.
"Let me come also."
"There is no need," she replied coldly, and crossed
to the tea-table. "You will excuse my departure, Lady
James. I have an engagement, Mr. Askew!" She
bowed, and then went silently out of the room.
"Do you follow, doctor?" asked Lady Jim, stepping
with him to the scarcely closed door.
He did not reply directly, but glanced across her
shoulder towards the yawning lieutenant. "Remem-
ber," he breathed significantly, and in his turn departed.
Leah wondered that the feelings which had evoked
the word should not have kept him watchful of her
pretty play, and confessed herself puzzled by his
abrupt following of Katinka's trail. But having, as
she knew, aroused his jealousy, there was no need to
consider meanings which would not affect her schemes.
Aksakoff was due, and before he appeared it was
necessary to teach Askew the role of cat's-paw. He
was to decoy Demetrius to Paris, but of course, she
did not mean him to be aware of his ignoble duties.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 293
She returned to rebuke him for yawning and to propose
a remedy.
"What you need is change of scene, if not of
society. Now there is Paris, which you probably
know well."
"I do not know it at all," he confessed.
"What a neglected education! I must teach you
Paris. Will you be ready for your first lesson early
next week?"
"I do not quite understand."
Lady Jim nodded laughingly. "Which proves that
'our future' is now split into 'your future' and 'my
future.'"
"I am more in the dark than ever," said the amazed
listener.
Lady Jim curled her lip contemptuously. "You
men need so much explanation," said she; then,
meaningly, "I can still retain you as a friend, I
hope."
"What do you—that is—on what grounds f You
do not comprehend I" He stuttered, grew red, and
writhed over the fire on which she was grilling him,
with much enjoyment to herself.
"Ah, but I do comprehend—very clearly, too. When
did the change come?"
"The—change?"
"Of heart, if you wish me to enter into details."
"There is no change in me," he denied, still red
and flurried.
"And no truth either, when you make such a
statement!" With a light .laugh she recalled his fierce
wooing: "you would not attempt to break my wrists
now."


294 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"I am very, very sorry, that I was rough with
you."
"Quite so, and cannot you see that such sorrow
explains everything?"
"Not to me," said Askew, desperately fervent.
Leah clapped her hands gaily. "How very badly
you do it! Do not go on the stage, I beg of you.
Well!" she kissed her hand to him, "adieu! I hope
she will be happy."
"Who will be happy?"
"The other woman."
"There is no "He caught her derisive eyes, and
broke down with an uneasy laugh. "I suppose we
have made a mistake."
"You have," she replied, promptly emphasising the
pronoun.
"Ah I" His pride was wounded by the implied in-
difference. "Then you knew it would come to this?"
"Of course, because I did not choose that it should
end otherwise. If I had chosen, you would still have
been "She glanced smilingly at her slim feet, then
handled the teapot with ostentatious liveliness. "You
can have some cold tea, if you like."
As Askew had intended to drop her, the idea that
she was dropping him—and very readily, too—was
wounding to his vanity. "You never laved me," he
declared.
"Did I ever say that I did f"
- Well, no; all the same"
She clasped her hands over her knee, and smiled
indulgently at his mortified face. "All the same, you
are unwise to explain, so we will change the subject,
Mr. Askew."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 295
"Ah I Not even Harry?"
"Not even Leah," she mocked. "Still, you can call
me Lady Jim."
"Till you change the name."
"Certainly not for that of Askew. Seiiorita Fajardo
may think differently, when you propose."
"How do you know I shall?" he asked sulkily, for
every word she uttered fretted his uneasy vanity.
"Because you are a shuttle-cock between two battle-
dores. She sent you flying to me; I shall speed you
back to her."
The young man was almost too mortified to speak.
"What a light, vain fool you make me out to
be!"
"No. You are merely a man in the hands of two
women—clay in the hands of accomplished potters.
Now," she laid a caressing hand on his arm, "promise
me to go back to Rosario at once."
"No!" snapped Askew, wincing at the touch, and so
gave her the very answer she required.
Her motive in pelting him with hard sentences had
been to arouse his vanity to assert itself in aggressive
contradiction; and for three reasons. Firstly, she
did not wish him to make an inconvenient third in
Mr. Berring's wooing of the Spanish lady, lest he
should learn much that it was undesirable for him to
know. Secondly, she required him as her Parisian
decoy-duck. And thirdly, it was out of the question
that he should dare to end the flirtation without her
leave. A reflection of these things led her to play
skilfully on manly conceit, with the aforesaid result.
She was satisfied when he replied in the negative.
Askew also, since thereby, in his own estimation, he


296 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
had vindicated virility, and lacked the insight to see
himself her puppet. Having gained her end, Lady Jim
apparently yielded to the lord-of-creation fiat.
"Well, then, come to Paris with me and Joan
Tallentire. We go on Monday to the Hotel Henri
Trois, Champs Ely sees. You can come on Wednesday."
"But I don't think"
"I am quite sure you don't. Perhaps Thursday will
suit you better."
"If you insist."
"I do not, unless on common sense, of which you
possess so little."
"How you bully me!" he cried, much vexed by this
badgering.
"Of course; we always bully those we love—as
friends, that is. Ah, here is M. Aksakoff. What a sur-
prise!" She rose gracefully and sailed forward with
outstretched hand, "So kind of you to come! You know
Mr. Askew, I think."
The diplomatist bowed, and seated himself near the
table, whereat Askew, devoured by a desire for further
confidences, fumed, with depressed eyebrows and twisted
mouth. Lady Jim rang for fresh tea, listening mean-
while to Aksakoff discussing the safe subject of the
weather. Occasionally she glanced with amusement at
her victim, who by this time did not know his own
mind, and certainly was incapable of analysing his very
complicated feelings. She bewildered him; he was not
master of himself in her presence, and alternately
quailed and rebelled under her spells. Flight from
Circe was his wisest plan.
"Must you ?" inquired Lady Jim, winningly, at the
first movement.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 297
"Must what, please," he asked sulkily, settling down
again.
"Must you go? I see you must. So sorry. Good-bye."
"I do not want to"
"To be bored. Naturally; a widow is but dull
company. Please do not leave us in the dark. The
button is on the right-hand side of the door. No; that
is wrong!" She rose and switched on the light herself.
"That is better! Don't you think it is? So good of you
to come and cheer met" Then, dropping her voice,
"Paris 1"
"I shall cross on Wednesday," he murmured; "then
we can resume our conversation."
"What pleasure you promise me !" she retorted; and,
closing the door, came back to the waiting diplomatist,
yawning daintily. "Excuse me, M. Aksakoff: I have
just ended a bad quarter of an hour."
"That young man, madame?"
"The same. He wants to marry me. Shocking,
isn't it, seeing that I scarcely know how to pose as a
widow?"
"But natural on his part, surely."
"How nicely you pay compliments! By the way,"
sliding away from the subject, "your daughter was
here. She has gone off somewhere with your friend,
M. Demetrius."
Aksakoff frowned. "It is kind of you to enlarge my
circle of acquaintance, madame. I presume you desire
to speak of this gentleman?"
Leah raised her eyebrows. "No; why should I!"
"Our conversation at Monte Carlo"
"Did we converse? So we did! Something about
a sunset, wasn't it?"


298 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
The diplomatist became unworthy of the name, through
sheer irritation. "Can we not drop our masks, madame?"
"I never knew that we wore such things," said Lady
Jim, lightly. "I am sure I do not. Why should I?"
"But you sent for me."
Leah placed her elbows on the table, and the tips of
her fingers together. "I did, to ask you for some
letters to nice people in Paris."
"Ah!" His face lighted up. "You go to Paris?"
"My good friend, have I not said sol And the
letters?"
"I shall be delighted "; Aksakoff was now beginning to
understand the necessity of reading between the remarks.
"But are letters necessary? I hope to be in Paris myself
next week."
"How delightful! You will be able to amuse me. Do
not look shocked. I assure you I only wish to drown
my grief."
"Of course," assented Aksakoff, dryly; then added,
with a significance she ignored: "Do you go alone
to Paris?"
"Oh, dear me, no. Miss Tallentire goes with me. A
charming girl who is engaged to my cousin, the Rev.
Lionel Kaimes. We stay for a week at the Hotel
Henri Trois, Champs Elysees. Very quietly, you know,
as I am still mourning."
"As you are still in mourning," corrected her visitor,
politely.
"Certainly. You would not have me flaunting colours
with poor dear Jim just dead. I want to be cheered
up, and I ask you and Mr. Askew to cheer me."
"Oh ! ah !" Aksakoff wrinkled his brow. "Mr. Askew
goes to Paris, also?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 299
"He said something about it. Such a nuisance, seeing
that he thinks—well, I told you."
"Madame, his thoughts are excusable. But M.
Demetrius will be angered."
"What do you mean?" demanded Lady Jim, im-
periously.
Aksakoff's patience was almost exhausted. "We
flpoke at Monte Carlo," he reminded her. "Surely we
understand one another."
"Possibly you may. I am quite in the dark. Why
should you couple my name with that of M. Demetrius?"
"Report says that he loves you."
"Oh—report!" She laughed, frankly amused. 'If
you believe reports "Here a shrug and a con-
temptuous laugh. "Why, reports leave no one a shred
of character. I quite expect that my enemies - Mrs.
Penworthy, for one—will say that Mr. Askew followed
me to Paris, for the purpose of marrying me at
the British Embassy."
Aksakoff admired her profoundly. Without com-
mitting herself in any way or for a single instance,
she was placing in his hands the thread of the intrigue.
Tacitly acknowledging a diplomatic superior, he followed
her lead. "I trust that Mrs. Penworthy, whom I
have the honour to know, will not spread such a
report," he said gravely.
"Oh, but she will. A horrid woman, and scarcely
respectable. She has called in Dr. Demetrius sis
her medical attendant, and if—as you say—he admires
me, she is sure to make mischief."
"Well," said Aksakoff, reflectively, "I am perfectly
sure that if M. Demetrius heard such gossip, he
would"


300 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Forbid the banns," finished Leah, hastily and
derisively. "Pah! Do you think, knowing his danger,
he would trust himself in Paris? You are entirely
wrong, M. Aksakoff. Our mutual friend left me this
very afternoon to follow your daughter. Let him
marry her—now do."
"No," said Aksakoff, setting down hiB cup. "Until
he surrenders Katinka he is safer in England."
"In that case, please do not let Mrs. Penworthy
gossip him into crossing the Channel."
"For your sake, I will not," said Aksakoff, dryly,
and with every intention of aiding and abetting Mrs.
Penworthy. "Will you give me another cup of tea 1"
She supplied him, and their conversation embraced
a variety of subjects. No further mention was made
of Demetrius, or of Katinka, or of Askew, or even
of Paris. They quite understood one another, did these
two clever people. When the diplomatist departed
he kissed Lady Jim's hand with courtly warmth.
"You are a charming woman, madame—a truly
admirable woman; but"—he straightened himself, and
looked into her eyes—" I should not like to have you
for an enemy."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Lady Jim,
artlessly.
"A compliment, madame—believe me, a very high
oompliment,"


CHAPTER XXIII
"Oh, it's lovely, lovely, lovely!" sang Joan Tallentire,
clapping her hands, and whirling dervish-fashion around
the room.
A radiant day or so in Paris had acted on her as
sunshine acts on a flower, when the petals expand, the
colour deepens, and the perfume exhales. What ob-
server, casual or close, would have recognised in this
eager-eyed and sparkling girl the timid companion of
Lady Canvey? For weeks she had associated with the
octogenarian; many months had she superintended the
well-being of pauper hags in Lambeth slums ; and in the
nursing of an ailing mother many precious years had
been expended. No wonder t he fire of being burnt low;
no marvel that for long the eyes had lacked lustre and
the cheeks colour. It was truly a case of the old eating
the young—stealing by contact, as it were, the vitality
of youth to reanimate waning life.
Now Lady Jim, playing fairy-godmother, had trans-
formed this Cinderella, and the grub of Lambeth soared
a splendid dragon-fly. The spring, long delayed in its
coming, sang in her veins. With stimulating company,
amidst novel surroundings, and with tempting food for
satisfying physical and moral appetites, came the
renascent period. Joan felt the burden of artificial
years slip from her shoulders; her quick blood, responding
301


302 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
to its environments, rose to fever heat. One cloud
alone flecked the sunshine of pleasure's dawn.
"I wish Lionel was here," she sighed.
"A Pagan in the temple, a Jew in the church," said
Lady Jim, shrugging. "My dear, Paris was invented
for clergymen to rail at, not to enjoy."
"Lionel is not narrow-minded, Lady James. He
approves of innocent amusements."
"Magic-lanterns and penny readings. I fear Paris
cannot supply those dissipations. You can enjoy them
under the honeymoon. Meanwhile Mr. Askew is less
exacting and more amusing."
"There is no one like Lionel—no one."
"I grant that, else would the world he innocent and
dull."
Joan pursed up her pretty lips and wrinkled a smooth
brow. "I don't understand that," said she, meditatively.
"No," assented Leah, with a slow and somewhat
envious look; "you never will."
"Why not?"
"I could give you fifty reasons, but three will do.
You are good and kind and healthy-minded to excess—
an angel, whose white wings flutter above the mire in
which we bipeds grovel. Quite the wife for our un-
sophisticated padre. St. Sebastian and St. Cecilia—
surely a marriage arranged in heaven."
Miss Tallentire could not quite follow Leah's flights
—not an infrequent occurrence. Nevertheless, her
intuition espied a compliment.
"Do you really mean that?"
"As I rarely mean anything. Let me be candid for
once, since we converse in the nursery, and say that I
respect Lionel and 1 respect you."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 303
"I would rather have love," suggested the girl,
timidly.
Leah touched her breast with eight finger-tips.
"From "Then in response to an answering blush:
"My dear, I love no one but myself."
"I can't believe that, or you would not have bothered
to bring me to Paris."
"Merely the desire for a new sensation. 1 assure
you, as Lionel assured me, that all my virtues spring
from the Ego."
"What is the Ego?"
"Leah Kaimes in this instance."
"I don't think you are selfish," persisted Joan; "if
you really and truly were, you would not say so."
"Oh, but I should; that is my refined form of self-
love. When I cry aloud my imperfections, I receive
some such compliment as you have paid. Then little
god Ego, sitting within my breast, sniffs up the incense."
"In that case I am selfish, too. I like to be told
nice things."
"And to be given nice things, such as Well, 1
expect Lionel, in spite of clerical propriety, can explain
better than I, and," added Lady Jim, mischievously, "in
dumb show. My dear, your Ego is shaped like a good
young padre; you are merged in Lionel—swallowed up,
as some one's rod swallowed up some one else's. I sup-
pose now "—Leah nursed her knees with clasped hands—
"I suppose when you marry St. Sebastian, you will be
wildly happy in a dull country rectory, wearing twice-
turned gowns and last year's hats, and fussing after
old women and grubby village urchins, with your
husband's sermons for relaxation when penny readings
pall."


304 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Quite happy," assented Joan, laughing at the over-
coloured picture—" with Lionel, of course."
"As I say: your Ego is his Ego. Dear!" and Lady
Jim dropped two impulsive kisses on her companion's
cheeks. Joan wondered at this uninvited display of
affection, and wondered still more when Leah turned
away with a somewhat bitter laugh. Perhaps, had she
guessed the truth, her sympathy would have extended to
this woman, whom self-love isolated from humanity.
It pleased Leah to pose as this simple maid's providence,
and on the whole she sustained her deity excellently.
Many a time did she chei-k her free spoken and sharp
tongue, lest Joan should feel hurt, or become pre-
cociously enlightened about those sins which are dubbed
idiosyncrasies in society. The amusements provided
were primitive and commonplace, as befitted the retire-
ment of a newly made widow and uncultured debutante
tastes. Drives in the Bois; visits to the Louvre, to
Versailles, to Notre Dame—on the tail of Hugo's
romance—to Pere Lachaise; many inspections of many
delightful shops, one concert at least, and the explora-
tion of places which had to do with the picturesque
history of France filtered through Baedeker and Murray.
Leah, unused to bread and milk, thought the majority
of these outings insipid; but Joan enjoyed them im-
mensely, and wondered at Continental dissipation.
Her ignorance credited Leah with loving, and in-
variably leading, this Cook's-tourist life when abroad;
and that lady laughed frequently, in the seclusion of
her bedroom, at the idea of being limited to nursery
geography. Nevertheless, she did not undeceive her
ingenue; the bloom, if she could prevent it, should
not be brushed too early from this peach. Which


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 305
reticence and determination showed that Lady Jim had
in her some soul of that goodness which lives in things
evil.
Askew duly arrived forty-eight hours later, so that
his meeting with Leah might appear unexpected. He
called daily at the Hotel Henri Trois, and on a hint
from Lady Jim devoted attention to Joan the maid.
Leah herself philandered in a business-like way with
M. Aksakoff, who, strange to say, followed Askew's
trail on important business. Lady Jim enjoyed many
interesting conversations with him, dealing with a quiet
obliteration of Demetrius, if he should by any chance
walk into the trap. Joan and her cavalier, good
surface readers, did not guess at the elements working
below, and so danced unsuspectingly on a volcano.
The fickle sailor was now lukewarm in his affections,
and, as Leah purposed dropping him gradually as soon
as Demetrius was on his way to Siberia, she was not
ill pleased to watch red-hot passion cool to ashen-grey
friendship. Certainly it still remained to withhold
him from seeking a foreign wife over-seas, but she
postponed schemes of prevention pending the disposal
of immediate troubles. Sometimes it occurred to her
that Askew, a man of tow like all sailors, might catch
fire from contact with Joan; but, player as she was
with the hearts and brains of men, she cherished
sufficient friendship for Lionel to forgo a possible
spoiling of his sober romance. There was little danger
that Miss Tallentiie would exchange Church for Navy,
but that the juxtaposition of an artless maid and an
inflammable bachelor might not breed fickleness, Lady
Jim wrote a letter. "Why not come over and escort
us back to town?" ran this epistle. "Also, in Paris you
20


306 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
will assuredly find material for a sermon on the
wickedness of that great city Nineveh,—I believe you
parsons give Western towns Eastern names, when
you wish to abuse them—to avoid libel actions, maybe."
Then followed the mention of the rope to drag this
clerical lover across Channel. "Do come, if only to see
how Joan enjoys the society of Mr. Askew."
The expected happened on the fifth day of Lady
Jim's sojourn in Paris, when, shortly after noon,
Demetrius, obviously disordered in dress and mind,
presented himself in the character of a bolt from the
blue. Luckily, Askew was translating to Joan the
Luxor hieroglyphics in the vicinity of the Place de la
Concorde Obelisk, so that she had an hour to explain
away the rumours which had undoubtedly brought him
over. When the sitting-room door clicked behind him
—he facing her with black looks—she drew a deep
breath to brace for the fight, and heard, what he did
not, the snick of prison bolts shot home. So far, lured
by the will-o'-the-wisp, jealousy, he had followed reck-
lessly the dangerous path; now it remained for her to
conduct him to the precipice, over which she and
Aksakoff intended he should be thrown. A trifle of
acting was necessary to reassure the venturesome and
perhaps suspicious traveller.
"M. Demetrius! Are you mad?"
"Not Constantine, then." He panted like a spent
runner, and his face twisted in a wry smile.
"What do you mean?"
Demetrius dropped heavily into the nearest chair, and
sent angry, inquiring glances into every corner.
"Where is he?"
"Where is who?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 307
"Oh, madame"—he became sarcastic here—"you
know very well, I think."
"I know nothing, save that you are foolish to
venture into Paris, where there is a price on your head.
M. Aksakoff is here, too; if he knew—if he guessed."
"Well, what matter? I have run greater risks for
lesser reasons."
"Yet they must be strong ones in the present instance,
to make you enter the bear's den."
"I have one reason for my venture, madame—you;
and another—Mr. Askew; not to speak of a third—
this marriage at your Embassy."
"I can understand the first; the second may be
explained by wholly unnecessary jealousy; but the final
one —this marriage you speak of?"
"Between yourself and Mr. Askew."
Lady Jim stared, then laughed good-humouredly.
"My dear Constantine, the idea is too ridiculous."
"I have the news on good authority."
"Which is the last authority you should believe.
Mr. Askew is certainly here; but not, I believe, in the
character of a bridegroom."
"Mrs. Penworthy"
"Oh!" Leah's scorn was worthy of the great Sarah.
"Mrs.—Penworthy 1"
"She told me that you came here; that Mr. Askew
followed"
"Forty-eight hours later. Quite correct."
"And that you intended to marry him at the British
Embassy."
"Really! I never knew that Mrs. Penworthy was
imaginative."
"It is not true?" His eye probed her.


308 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
She did not flinch. "You must be mad to think
60."
"It is not true 1 " he persisted.
"You yourself have denied the truth of it twice. Mr.
Askew at this moment dances round Miss Tallentire'a
skirts. Would I permit that, if ?Oh, ridiculous!
Yon men swallow camels."
Her dupe rose to pace the room, and to pour out the
anger of many brooding hours. "It is not true—ah, if
I could only be sure of that. This woman—this
Mrs. Penwoithy—she swore—swore—that you—that
you "He choked, flung himself headlong to where
she smiled contemptuous, and seized her hands vehe-
mently. "Swear that it is false!" He dropped on hia
knees, almost tearful.
"I do swear," rejoined Leah, disengaging her wrists.
"You can take Mr. Askew back to London if you like.
He is engaged to marry a lady in South America.
There is nothing between us—nothing. A flirtation,
yes; banter and pretty smiles, idle nothings and surface
conversations." She smoothed back his hair and smiled
playfully. "Am I marrying Othello?"
"You are so beautiful," he muttered, wavering.
"In your eyes, no doubt. Mr. Askew prefers
brunettes south of the Equator. But I"—she rose
suddenly, as though she spurned him—but "I prefer
trust. I am angry—yes, very angry. Oh, that you
should doubt me—doubt me!" Her tragic assertion was
admirable.
"I do not—I do not "; and he still grovelled, catch-
ing at her dress.
"Your presence here proves otherwise. Mr. Askew,
indeed—a general lover, a volatile sailor with a wife


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 309
in every port for all I know. Can you not credit me
with more exclusive tastes?"
"He is handsome," muttered the still suspicious
doctor, and rose, brushing his knees mechanically.
"Is he? So you think I am to be won by looks,
like a schoolmiss in her teens"; she looked at his
sharp white face, and laughed cruelly. "That I am
engaged to you should prove differently."
He scarcely heeded her. "Swear! Swear!" and his
eyes flamed.
Leah, calculating the effect, lost her temper. "I
shall in a moment," she cried angrily. "The most
patient of women—of whom I am not one—have their
limits. Why do you allow jealousy to overrule
common sense, when the position is so plain? You fixed
your price and fulfilled your part of the bargain.
Am I, I ask you, free to play you this trick of
a hasty marriage, when you can expose me as privy
to a fraud? You see that I do not mince matters; I
speak plainly, do I not? You have all the winning
cards, and can compel me to become your wife, even
if I dissented. Why, then, do you come here on a
fool's errand?"
"But I love you so," he protested piteously.
"And love, being blind, makes you stumble into
danger. I think you had better return to England
by the night train."
"Am I to leave you with Mr. Askew?"
"Oh, take him with you; I gave you permission
before. And pray don't make scenes—I dislike them."
"Then I am wrong?"
"Faugh! If you doubt my word, perhaps you will
take Mr. Askew's. He will be here soon with Miss


310 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Tallentire. I decline to defend a position which requires
no defence."
A shrug ended this speech, and this, in conjunction
with the anger brightening her hard blue eyes, reduced
him to profuse apologies.
"But indeed, my soul, you should not be enraged;
that I should risk what I do risk surely proves my
love for you."
"You have proved it before by getting me the
insurance money," she replied impatiently; "pray
return at once. I can see you in Curzon Street when
I return on Tuesday."
"Then you promise to marry me."
"Yes!" Leah heaved a sigh of exhaustion. "How
often do you wish me to say so? Even if you remain
Dr. Demetrius I am bound to become your wife, seeing
that you hold my reputation in your hands. Though
of course," she added sweetly, "I expect to be Princess
Constantine Demetrius."
"I am willing—believe me, I am willing," he
stuttered, now quite positive that Mrs. Penworthy was
a liar of the worst. "Aksakoff"
"What of him?"
"Did you not say that he would aid me to regain
my position, if I gave up Katinka?"
"He said something like that," she rejoined care-
lessly, and wondering why at this moment he recalled
the proposition. "But I rather fancy his offer was
merely to leave you alone."
Demetrius looked silently at the carpet. Leah
watched him with a doubtful look, on her guard
against complications. He looked up suddenly, and
with rather a shamed face. "Certainly I could secure


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 311
the services of Mademoiselle Aksakoff," he murmured;
"but it seems cruel to use her influence and then to
leave her. She loves me. Ah, yes, she loves me very
truly, and I—I treat her most badly."
"If you think so, why not make amends and marry
her?"
"Because 1 love you, and at great risk I have
bought you." He glared at her savagely. "I refuse
to let you go; you are mine—mine."
"I never denied that," said Lady Jim, dryly; "but
I really cannot accompany you to Siberia, and if you
remain here"
"Wait!" He flung up an imperative hand. "I
shall see Aksakoff."
This sounded almost too good to be true, and Leah
doubted. "No!"
"Yes. Ah, my adored, I know how you feel for
my safety "; his voice took on a caressing tone. "But
—it is nothing "; he brushed away imaginary danger
with a rapid gesture. "I shall see him. I shall plainly
surrender Katinka, and then—then, when he knows
that we—you and I—are to marry, he will interest
himself with the Czar, on our—you mark me, my
angel—on our behalf."
"It's a mad idea, impracticable. You dare not trust
Aksakoff."
"Ah, bah! He will not arrest me publicly—he
cannot. The scandal—the diplomatic storm—the news-
papers. No, no !—it is too absurd. Besides "—he
shrugged—" this tender father will repay me if I give
his daughter to understand that we can never marry.
He desires her to be the Countess Paul Petrovitch."
"Hum!" said Lady Jim, rejoicing that the prisoner


312 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
should thus lock himself in and pitch the key out of
the window. "M. Aksakoff hinted something of this
to me at Monte Carlo."
"Then jou can see—then you must understand,"
Demetrius gesticulated excitedly. "Should I surrender
Mademoiselle—if I write a letter stating that I do not
love, that there can by no means be marriage—
Aksakoff will help me, help you, help us both."
"As Prince and Princess Demetrius. Yes, I see.
And yet—the risk."
"There is no risk, publicly. And to snare me in
secret—no. I am wary—oh, most wary; no one can
trap me. I swear to you, no one."
"Demetrius," said Leah, as gravely as her delight
would let her, "you have done me a service, which I
repay with my hand in marriage. I do not love you
as I ought to, but love may come with the honeymoon.
Still, even now, I have sufficient affection for you to
wish for your safety. Supposing "— she laid an anxious
hand on his arm—" supposing M. Aksakoff played you
false, and you were trapped into taking this Siberian
journey—what would I do? Ah, no, my friend; believe
me, it is best to treat with this diplomatist in London.
There you are safe; here "She shook her head
warningly.
She could not have made a speech, as she very well
knew, more likely to provoke Demetrius into remaining
in his enemy's camp. He had accepted her disavowal
of Mrs. Penworthy's gossip, and yet, now that she
asked him to go, urged him to depart, even in
Askew's company, his incurable suspicion made him
hesitate. "I shall stay here, and see Aksakoff," he
announced doggedly.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 313
u Very good," assented Lady Jim, accepting the fiat.
"He is coming to luncheon; you can speak to him
then."
"Why to luncheon?" asked the doctor, sharply.
"Why not?" demanded Leah, up in arms on the
instant. "When we are married, your enemies shall be
my enemies; until then, my friends—of whom M.
Aksakoff is one—shall be my own." She became less
imperative in her speech and looks, dropping to a
conversational tone. "If you must know, Katinka asked
her father to call while he was in Paris. I could not
do less than ask him to luncheon, could I?"
A less clever woman would have made a less
frivolous excuse, and, despite his cleverness, Demetrius
was gulled into accepting the false as genuinely true.
"You will permit that I go to brush my clothes—to
remove the dust of travel," he asked politely. "I
return soon to meet M. Aksakoff."
"Half-past two is the time," said Leah, with a
careless glance at the gimcrack clock on the mantel-
piece; "and perhaps it will be safer for you to meet
him in my presence at my table. He can scarcely
arrest you there. One moment," as Demetrius turned
to go with a hasty bow. "Mention our engagement to
him privately. I do not wish Miss Tallentire to know,
as she would probably tell Lionel Kaimes, and then
the family—very rightly too—would be shocked."
"You can always depend upon my discretion,
madame," murmured the doctor, bowing over her hand,
and brusquely departed with the air of a conqueror.
Lady Jim rubbed the kiss from her hand with
vehemence, and flew to the window, where she watched
as eagerly as Sister Anne on Bluebeard's castle-top,


3H LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
The dapper little figure emerged from the grand portal,
and strutted victoriously down the street. Leah
nodded complacently. He was now in the toils, and,
moreover, was voluntarily binding himself in bonds.
All the better; there could be no compunction on her
part in betraying such a heedless fool. If he would
insist upon letting his jealous heart govern his usually
wise head, it was impolitic to prevent him. With
sudden thankfulness Lady Jim fished out of her pocket
a ruffied peacock's feather.
"My luck holds—it holds," said she, kissing the
fetish; "you always bring me luck—dear—dear," and
she kissed again.
This religious ceremony ended, the fortunate lady
looked again at the clock. It was five minutes past
one. Sitting down at a side-table she wrote a note,
sealed it, and delivered it to an obsequious waiter, with
directions for its delivery at the Russian Embassy.
"And lay two extra places at luncheon," she ordered;
"two gentlemen are coming."
In this way M. AksakofF had the unexpected pleasure
of partaking of Lady Jim's hospitality.


CHAPTER XXIV
Alone and punctual, hungry for mid-day victuals,
and eager to impart newly acquired knowledge, Miss
Tallentire returned from studying the Luxor Obelisk.
Her coming upon the hour and solitary state were
noted, but a second-hand rendering of hieroglyphic loro
could be dispensed with by a lady entertaining a more
modern-minded guest. Aksakoff, with a notable sparkle
in his eyes—begotten by confidential conversation with
his hostess—rose to welcome the fair interrupter. In-
ternational courtesies were exchanged, while Leah,
glancing impatiently at the clock, waited for their
conclusion to slip in a question or so.
"Where is Mr. Askew? Why did he not bring you
back?"
"He did, Lady James, as far as the lift. He is now
writing a letter in the smoking-room."
"And so will forget that I asked him to luncheon.
Please remind him, dear; or, better, tell the waiter to
bring him up. M. Demetrius is coming also."
"Dr. Demetrius!" Joan paused in her exit. "1 did
not know that he was in Paris, Lady James."
"Nor did I until an hour ago. Don't lose time, dear.
Mr. Askew may go, and I particularly wish him to
stay."
Lady Jim ushered the girl out hurriedly, and


316 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
judiciously saw to the closing of the door, before turn-
ing to meet Aksakoff's inquiring gaze. "You approve
of a full table, madame?"
"There is safety in numbers," she assured him,
"For M. Demetrius?"
Leah resumed her seat with raised eyebrows. "I
fear you will think me dull, M. Aksakoff, but I do not
understand."
The diplomatist bowed an apology. He had forgotten
that even in private her comedy was to be played by
the book. The conversation of the next few minutes
he foresaw very plainly. She would play round the
reason for their meeting, without coming to grips,
mysteriously conveying her meaning in speeches which
she did not mean. Only a politician of Aksakoff's
subtility would have understood the unsaid from what
she now proceeded to say.
"Besides "—she was continuing the speech interrupted
by his bow—" you promised that no harm should come
to the doctor."
"Madame, I renew that promise."
"I hope so; otherwise, I shall regret having con-
sented to this meeting."
"Yet I understood that M. Demetrius desired it.'"
"That is no reason why I should consent."
"Possibly not. Still, as a peace-maker"
"You put me into the Beatitudes, then?"
"Why not, if you achieve your object in reconciling
enemies?"
"The signing of the treaty depends upon you,
M. Aksakoff."
"Consider it signed—on conditions."
"Which means that it is not signed, H'ml


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 317
M. Demetrius is anxious, even willing, to renounce
your daughter."
A dull red stained AksakofPs opaque skin. "How
flattering to my fatherly pride! There is, then "—the
hint was delicate—" another?"
Lady Jim retorted in kind. "So you said at Monte
Carlo."
"Mademoiselle Ninette? I believe I did. She lured
him to Paris, then?"
"How should I know? He has never mentioned the
creature's name to me, nor would he dare to. He came,
so he declares, to see me."
"On matters connected with your recent loss, no
doubt."
"It is more than probable."
Her avoidance of the necessary topic exasperated him.
Sharp words were on the tip of his tongue, but wisdom
withheld them. His accomplice was not the woman to
yield to dominance, and the merest hint of its exercise
might, probably would, engender wrath likely to
jeopardise the almost achieved plot. Money or no
money—Aksakoff still ascribed mercenary reasons—her
pride would never bend to the yoke of advice. To be
silent was his second thought, and silent he became.
This, it would seem, was wise, since she began to ex-
plain, Aksakoff paying out liberally the necessary rope
that she might hang herself.
"M. Demetrius is unwise to come here. I told him
so; yes, I confess—remember my warning—that I
betrayed you. All the same—very foolishly, I think—
he insisted upon an immediate meeting, to recover his
birthright, he says. Can you arrange for the rehabilita-
tion sf this exiled Esau 2"


318 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
A faint smile played round the diplomatist's thin lips.
"I can!"
"And you will?"
"Assuredly, if M. Demetrius disabuses Katinka of
her infatuation."
"That is his affair and yours. No doubt"—she spoke
meaningly—" you will wish to speak to him privately?"
"There is no need, madame, seeing that you are in
his confidence, and in mine. Besides "—very slowly—
"we can converse over our tea."
Lady Jim's nerves jumped. "Over tea," she echoed
equally slowly—" tea, after luncheon?"
"It is a Russian custom. M. Demetrius and I are
Russians. Still, if the suggestion appears presumptuous"
—he waved his hand with assumed deprecation—" I
withdraw it and apologise."
"No!" She passed her tongue over dry, white lips,
and answered faintly. "You shall have your—tea."
Then, rising hurriedly, she made for the near window on
an obvious excuse. "I do not see him coming."
As plainly as though Aksakoff had put it into words
did Lady Jim know that he intended to drug their
victim. What would occur if this plotter succeeded
she did not know; what might occur she shivered to
think of, and the thought made her rash. "The
police!" she murmured, turning from the window.
M. Aksakoff joined her, adjusting his pince-nez
leisurely, and proceeded to look up and down the street,
two stories below. "I do not see the police, madame.
But what a delightful day! I trust the night will be
equally mild, since I journey to Havre."
"You go to Havre—to-night?" breathed Leah, not
yet herself.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 319
"By a moderately late train. My cousin, Count
Petrovitch, is there with his yacht. We have to talk
about his possible marriage with my daughter, before
he leaves to-morrow for Kronstadt."
"Oh!" sighed Lady Jim, very white. "How—how
—amusing!" and after misusing the word, she went
back to her chair with geographical thoughts. Paris—
Havre—Kronstadt—Siberia; and Demetrius. "Oh!"
sighed she again, with a trembling hand shielding
her eyes.
"You are ailing, madame," cried Aksakoff, hastening
to her politely.
"Starving !" replied Leah, with a wry smile. "Hush!"
The warning hissed through the chatter of Joan and
Askew, who entered, almost riotously happy. Their
exuberant manners and frank speech brought a whole-
some breeze of cleansing honesty into the atmosphere
of stale rascality. The bracing wind blew Lady Jim
out of dark chambers into the day-lit spaces of the
commonplace. With the protean capability of women
she flashed as a sun from passing storm-clouds, to shine
on the honest and hungry. .
"Thanks awfully for your invitation to luncheon,"
said Askew.
"Which you forgot."
"Did I ever receive it ?" he asked doubtfully.
"Did not my last remark imply the invitation.
Remarkable!"
So irrelevant sounded the last word that Aksakoff
queried its reason.
"Not that a man should forget an invitation," she
explained; "but that a single meal should escape his
greedy memory."


320 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"You make me out to be a gourmet," hinted the
invited guest.
"Why not a gourmand? One speaks French in
Paris."
"Not invariably, since we now converse in English,"
said Askew, dryly; and she approved of the retort.
Clearly he was rapidly recovering from the green-
sickness of crude passion.
Meantime Joan instructed Aksakoff in ancient
history. "The hieroglyphics on the Place de la
Concorde Obelisk describe the triumphs of Rameses II.,
who reigned over Egypt in the fourteenth century
before Christ. Mr. Askew knows him."
"Indeed 1" smiled Lady Jim. "Is he stopping in
Paris?"
"Miss Tallentire means to say that I know 'of him.'"
"Well, I said so. But my English is faulty."
"Mr. Askew will surely improve it. His knowledge
of hieroglyphics"
"The guide-book's knowledge, Lady James," corrected
Askew.
"Hum! Information while you wait—Murray and
Baedoker's extract of history—archeological tabloids."
"What felicitous phrases!"
"Sarcasm! That surely means—convalescence."
"You have been ill then, monsieur "; Aksakoff ad-
dressed the colouring young gentleman.
"Heart-disease," flashed Lady Jim, gaily—" Ah, M.
Demetrius I"—and so did her ex-lover out of a retort.
"You know Miss Tallentire—Mr. Askew; they were at
Firmingham, if you remember. And M. Aksakoff,
who will doubtless recall Dr. Demetrius."
M Say Prince Constantino Demetrius, madame.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 321
"You place me too high," said the doctor, bowinp
stiffly. "Out of Russia I am but a simple physician."
"And a remarkably clever one, according to this lady."
"Madame flatters. I failed, where I should have
succeeded."
Leah murmured a sharp aside, reproving the pro-
fessional humility which necessitated an allusion to her
loss. A bo'inng waiter entered before the doctor's
apologetic shrug could be followed by words.
"Madame is served," said the waiter, and the lift
lowered five hungry people to the dining-room.
Says a disciple of Brillat-Savarin, with solemn truth
and the infallible judgment of experience, "Breakfast
in Scotland, lunch in America, and dine in Paris."
Circumstances prevented Lady Jim from dispensing
Boston hospitality, but having supervised the ideas of
the Henri-Trois chef, she placed a very dainty and
tempting repast before a quartette almost too hungry
to be critical. Nor was wanting wine, chosen with
masculine discretion, to loosen rusty tongues and
release fair thoughts embedded in slow brains. But
this latter adjective must be taken—very appropriately
at table—with a grain of salt. None of those who ate
and drank were dull; three of them, indeed, were much
too clever, and the remaining two made up in sparkle
what they lacked in depth. Many good things were
eaten and said during that merry meal, and the corner
near the large window bubbled with laughter. Leah,
watching stealthily the courtesy of Aksakoff and his
fellow-countryman, shivered internally at the irony of
circumstances. Paris — Havre—Kronstadt — Siberia:
the four names repeated themselves dolorously in her
brain like a street cry. What wonder, then, that the
21


322 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
spectacle of this tragic comedy made her laugh and
babble, and smile and nod, and play to perfection the
role of an attentive hostess. She was quite glad that
-what would prove in all probability to be her victim's
last civilised meal was appetising. Aksakoff professed
himself charmed with her esprit. Here, thought he,
were the makings of an ideal conspirator, and he
regretted her nationality. The Anglo-Saxon nature is
so alien to working mole-fashion. Yet, had he only
known the truth, Lady Jim had already proved her
willingness to conspire, if not against a throne, at least
for the cheating of a limited company.
The luncheon was thus pleasant, and not less so the
digestive hour, when the repleted guests assembled in
the sitting-room. Anxious to afford the diplomatist
every assistance, Lady Jim gathered the young people
under her wing near the piano at the far end of the
apartment. Joan, who had more of a soul than a
memory for music, played scraps, chatting to right and
left while her nimble fingers ran from Mozart to
Chopin and attempted what their owner remembered
of Wagner's creations. Thus the Muscovites, smoking
by special permission, were enabled to exchange views
in comparative privacy. To assure complete secrecy,
and with the hole-and-corner instinct of the Slav, they
talked Russian with a bluntness strangely opposed to
Lady Jim's elusive suggestiveness. The situation—to
Demetrius, at least—did not admit of sugared phrases
or ambiguous explanations.
"Madame yonder "—he nodded towards Leah—" told
you why I desired this interview."
"Yes !"—Aksakoff handled his cigarette daintily-**
"but an explanation from you is necessary."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 323
Demetrius nodded brusquely. "I must mention the
name of your daughter."
"Without doubt, since her welfare is the main object
of our meeting."
"Mademoiselle Aksakoff," said Demetrius, coldly,
"has done me the honour to admire me. But that my
affections are already engaged, I should certainly
reciprocate."
"You allude to Mademoiselle Ninette?"
A look of surprise flitted across the other's face.
"The actress? Why should you think so?"
"Rumour credits you with being her lover."
"And, as usual, rumour is wrong. Mademoiselle
Ninette was assuredly my patient, but I received my
fees in gold, not in kisses. As poor Dr. Demetrius I
I cannot live on love, Ivan Aksakoff."
"Prince Constantino will be able to do so with the
lady he mentions."
"I mentioned no lady."
"Ah, pardon!" Aksakoff was foiled. "You accept
my apology?"
"None is needed. I intended to tell you the name
of the lady, Ivan Aksakoff; it is madame yonder."
With uplifted eyebrows the diplomatist glanced in
the direction of Leah.
"I heard something in London clubs of your admira-
tion for her, Constantino Demetrius; even before her
husband died it was said that you had laid yourseif
at her feet. What a pity you cannot marry her!
An ideal match, my friend; quite ideal, and so useful
in promoting a social understanding between Holy
Russia and these islanders."
"We marry in a year," announced the doctor, calmly.


324 LADY JIM OK CURZON STREET
"Ah, no ; but pardon me, it is impossible!" Aksakoff,
really and truly startled, dropped ins cigarette. That
haughty Lady James Kaimes should "It is quite
impossible," said he, staring.
"I refer you to the lady herself," insisted Demetrius.
"A-a-a-h!" droned the other, picking up his
cigarette to place it in the ash-tray, and lighting
another; "y-e-s!" He stared again at his companion,
then stole a glance at Leah. Apparently her desire to
assist Muscovite politics was not entirely a question of
pounds, shillings, and pence. She was less sordid and
more subtle than he had guessed.
Demetrius, giving him no time to arrive at a satis-
factory conclusion, went on with his explanation. "You
will, therefore, understand that my marriage with your
daughter is out of the question."
"Of course," assented Aksakoff, absently, and wonder-
ing why Lady Jim engaged herself to this exile. "Of
course," he added more briskly, "I trust you will
permit me to announce this engagement to my daughter."
"Certainly. It will show her that"
"That you are unworthy of her hand," ended Aksakoff,
sharply, for here the father overleaped the diplomatist.
"Quite so, Ivan Aksakoff, and I hope soon to con-
gratulate the Countess Petrovitch."
"You are too good, Constantino Demetrius."
"In return for thus arranging your domestic affairs,"
continued the doctor, unmoved by the sarcasm, "will
you gain my pardon from the Czar? Can you gain
it ?" he asked with emphasis.
"I can and will."
"My title, my money"
"Both shall be restored. And of course," added


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 325
AksakofT, with a keen glance, "you will no longer
work in what you term the sacred cause of humanity."
Demetrius waved his hand gloomily. "Dreams of
youth—desires for the impossible. I am aware," he
added bitterly, "that individuality in a bureaucratic
administration is looked upon as a crime."
"Can you wonder at it? If one wheel refuses to fit
in with another, the machine will not work. We are
all parts of a mighty engine"
"Which crushes the poor and the weak,"
"What matter, since you, Constantine Demetrius, are
neither poor nor weak?"
"My sympathy"
"A most dangerous word, current only in1 that
Utopia you dreamed of. It is not in the Russian
dictionary."
Demetrius turned on the scoffer a glittering eye. "It
will be, some day," said he, slowly.
"My friend"—Aksakoff shook the ash from his
cigarette—"if you propose to edit dictionaries you
must remain Dr. Demetrius—in exile."
"I gladly would," rejoined the other, heartily;
"only 'His voice died away, as he looked towards
Lady Jim.
The diplomatist laughed. "There is always a woman.
Ah, these dear ladies, how practical they are! In their
hands we are wux, which they mould after the honey
is squeezed out"; he laughed again, then resumed,
business-like: "You will write to my daughter and
place the truth of this engagement beyond question."
"To-morrow, Ivan Aksakoff, when I am in London.
And needless to say, I shall always profoundly respect
Mademoiselle your daughter."


326 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"You mean the Countess Petrovitch."
"If you can so far bend her to your ambition,"
retorted Demetrius. "You promise, then, to right me
with the Czar?"
Aksakoff nodded and laughed cynically. "You are
already Prince Constantine Demetrius, rich, honoured,
and—unsympathetic."
The doctor winced at the last word, but shook hands
on the agreement. Lady Jim glanced across the room
with Judas and his kiss in her mind. That the cap
fitted her, also, she did not consider for the moment.
"Coffee! Coffee!" cried the pianist, rising. "Just
what I want."
"It is tea on this occasion," replied Leah, and went
over to take charge of the tray brought in by a smiling
waiter.
"Tea?" Joan echoed the word in an amazed voice,
and tripped like a fairy towards a comfortable low
chair. "Who ever heard of tea in the middle of the
day?"
"Australian colonists in the back blocks," explained
Askew, sauntering to assist in arranging a harlequin
set of cups. "They drink tea at all hours."
"In Russia, also," remarked Lady Jim, jingling the
saucers. "This is a concession to the prejudices of
our foreign guests"; and she laughed amiably at the
Muscovites.
Demetrius bowed and smiled, twisting his waxed
moustache with admiring glances at Leah's red hair.
He was far from suspecting a snare, and that Aksakoff
should have a finger and thumb in his waistcoat-pocket
did not seem remarkable. But Lady Jim—nervously
on the alert—guessed that the diplomatist was fiddling


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 327
with something of a narcotic naturo. Also, his significant
glance at her, at the teacups, at Demetrius, hinted at
her duty. She fulfilled it with a spasm of fear, well
masked by frivolity.
"Joan, I have dropped my handkerchief—near the
piano, I think. Will you please look for it?"
Miss Tallentire rose, to be anticipated, as Leah
guessed she would be, by two attentive gentlemen.
"Allow me!" "Permit me, mademoiselle !" and with
Askew, Demetrius crossed for the search, while Lady
Jim ran on lightly:
"It might be on the floor near you, Joan. What a
nuisance! How stupid of me!"
Then Joan looked on the carpet—Leah also, the
latter straining her ears to hear the almost inaudible.
The faint tinkle of a pellet dropped into a cup sounded
to her guilty soul like a clap of thunder.
"Here it is," cried Joan, fishing under the table, and
picking up what Lady Jim had purposely dropped.
"Thanks awfully, dear. Mr. Askew, M. Demetrius,
do not trouble. Give me the teaput, Joan. Ah!"
she babbled on, while filling the cups—" What a pity
we have not glasses, so that you could drink the tea
in your own fashion, M. Demetrius. M. Aksakoff, we
did so enjoy the novelty at your Monte Carlo villa.
Still, here is a lemon; slice it, Joan, dear, Do sit down,
doctor. M. Aksakoff, you can be waiter."
"Allow me," cried Askew, half rising.
"Sit where you are," said Leah, sharply; "you'll
upset the table. M. Aksakoff!"
"With pleasure, madame " ; and he obliged her with
stiff cordiality.
Leah wiped her hps, which were dry, and stole a


328 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
stealthy glance at the cup which he handed to the
doctor. It was of a deep blue colour. "Augh !" she
breathed, as he set it to his lips.
"You are wearied with your duties, madame," con-
jectured Aksakoff, sipping with gusto; "and I, alas,
can relieve you only by acting as waiter."
"You are a guest now," she rejoined, with a nervous
laugh; "is the tea to your liking?"
"Most delightful tea," said Demetrius, courteously.
"You compliment the decoction too highly. Tea on
the Continent is like rain in the Sahara. I except
Russia, of course," she ended, smiling.
"You will find us English in many ways, when you
visit Moscow, madame."
Leah looked inquisitively at Aksakoff, who spoke, guess-
ing that he was in possession of the truth, and wonder-
ing what he thought of the engagement. The man's
face betrayed nothing, however, and her gaze travelled
to Demetrius. He was sitting perfectly still, and his
eyes looked dull, as though the fire of life was dwindling
within. Meeting her smile, he roused himself with a
jerk and an apology.
"I feel sleepy—the heat, no doubt," he murmured.
"I can't say that I feel scorching," said Askew,
glancing through the window at a grey sky.
"You are used to the tropics; M. Demetrius is not,"
observed Aksakoff.
Joan laughed. "You remind me of a horrid story
my brother told me. An old Anglo-Indian was being
cremated at Woking, and said that it was the first
time he had felt warm in England."
"A horrid story indeed," murmured Lady Jim, with
her eyes on the expressionless face of Demetrius. "You


LADY JIM OF CURZOiN STREET 329
shouldn't tell it, dear." Then she rose hurriedly: "Are
you quite well, M. Demetrius?"
"Oh yes—quite "; the doctor's voice droned into an
inarticulate mumble and his head fell forward.
"Oh! Mr. Askew—M. Aksakoff—what is the
matter? His eyes are closed; his breathing—just
listen!"
"Kind of fit, perhaps," said Askew, rising to shake
Demetrius, and so extorted a cry from the kind-
hearted hostess.
"Don't—the man is ill! Oh, how dreadful! Loosen
his collar—open the window. I wonder if he needs a
doctor," and she stepped to the electric button of the
bell.
"There might be one in the hotel," said Aksakoff, as
Joan and Askew obeyed her directions. And from the
tone of his voice she knew that there was one in the
hotel, "It really seems to be a kind of fit," said
Aksakoff, looking at the now unconscious man. "Yet
he appeared to be quite well a few minutes ago."
Leah did not hear. Sho was already at the door
issuing hurried instructions to a waiter, whose smile had
vanished. When she came back the two men had
placed Demetrius on the sofa, where he lay breathing
heavily, his face white and his lips purple; not a
pleasant sight by any means, as Askew thought.
"Had not you ladies better retire? " he suggested.
"No, no!" they cried in one breath. "We must
help."
"Only the doctor can do that—if there is one," said
Aksakoff, observing his handiwork on the sofa with a
critical eye.
Then, at the tail of a triple rap, entered the fat


330 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
proprietor of the Henri Trois, scared in looks and
importantly fussy in manner. Behind him glided a
spick-and-span man, not unlike Demetrius, and un-
mistakably Tartar.
"Dr. Helfmann happened to be luncheoning," ex-
plained M. Gravier, " fortunately. What is the matter,
madame 1"
Helfmann soon explained that. He felt the pulse
of the patient, laid a gentle hand on a weakly-beating
heart, and turned up the purple eyelids. Askew and
Aksakoff stood aside with the proprietor. Lady Jim
and Joan bent forward with pale faces and clasped
hands, anxious for the verdict.
"A kind of fit," explained the doctor; "he will be
insensible for two—three hours."
"In my hotel? Ach !—the scandal!" cried Gravier,
spreading his fat hands in dismay.
"Is it really a fit 1" asked Lady Jim, paying no
attention.
"Madame "—the doctor faced her coldly—" to speak
technically would not enlighten you. I can bring this
gentleman back to his senses; but I think—with your
permission," added he, bowing, " that if you will permit
me to take him in a cab to a chemist's shop where I
can procure the drug I require, it will save time. And
in this case "—he glanced calmly at the unconscious
man—time means life."
"Ugh!" said Askew. "Take him away at once."
"If you think it is better," murmured Lady Jim,
not daring to meet the victorious eye of the diplomatist.
"Of course," rejoined Askew, brusquely. "You and
Miss Tallentire can do nothing, and the sight is not a
pleasant one."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 331
"Joan"; Lady Jim drew the girl away, and passed
with her into the bedroom adjoining. There behind a
closed door they listened to the sound of a body being
removed. The scraping of feet, the heavy breathing
of ladened men, the bumping and humping of some-
thing soft (horrible suggestion)—they could hear these
intimations of removal very plainly. Leah sat on the
bed with tightly clasped hands between slack knees.
"Augh!" said Leah.
"It is all right, Lady James," said Joan, petting her.
"Poor M. Demetrius will soon be all right. I wonder
what made him ill?"
"I wonder," echoed Lady Jim, and wondered very
truly. She could not understand what drug Aksakoff
had used to reduce Demetrius so rapidly to unconscious-
ness. And not another word was spoken for ten
minutes.
"They have driven away in a fiacre," announced
Miss Tallentire, from the window.
"Who have driven?"
"That doctor and M. Demetrius."
"Not M. Aksakoff?"
Before her question could be answered a sharp
knock came to the door, and Aksakoff presented himself
when it was opened.
"All is well, dear ladies," said he, blandly. "Dr.
Helfmann has gone with our sick friend. Mr. Askew
follows to see that all is well."
"Askew follows?" said Lady Jim, with a sharp
glance; "but why?"
The diplomatist still smiled. "He has a kind heart,
that young Mr. Askew, and so "he shrugged, then
bowed to Joan. "I compliment you, mademoiselle, on


332 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
your courage. You also, madame. And now, all being
well, I must take my leave"; he kissed Lady Jim's
hand. "I shall see you again in London, as to-night
I journey to Havre."
He went out, and Leah again heard four names as
though a ghostly porter was calling them at a
ghostly junction.
"Paris, Havre, Kronstadt, Siberia," said the ghostly
porter.
"Ugh!" said Lady Jim.


334 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Leab, prior to an immediate departure, without re-
curring to the quest. Lady Jim, however, could not
forbear a taunt.
"And your philanthropic search i" she inquired.
Askew coloured, laughed, and shrugged.
"Demetrius is no kith or kin of mine," was his
excuse, "and wouldn't do as much for me, I doubt.
'Hides, he's probably on his legs by now, and will come
skipping along to f*ee you."
"If he does I shall advise him of your charity."
"No, don't," urged the youth, coolly. "He'll be
giving me a testimonial."
Leah laughed good-humouredly. "Well, good-bye,"
and she shook hands. "Thanks for your company.
Joan has enjoyed it immensely."
"And you?"
"Ah!" with a sigh and a twinkle, "think what
I have lost."
"Meaning me?"
"Meaning you, man of lightning moods. Philan-
thropy, love—ten minutes of each. Shall I see you
in Iondon?"
"Oh—er—yes. But if I can annex this schooner
at a fair price, I'm thinking of a cruise."
"In Pacific waters?"
He grew red and uneasy, shifting from one foot to
the other. "I might."
"That means, you will. H'm! The first case I ever
knew of a man being off with the new love and on
with the old. But"—she held up a finger—" I claim
a visit before you go."
Askew seized her hand. "I promise!" Then,
coasingly: "We are friends?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 335
"Parting friends, and I have already shaken hands
with you twice. Au revoir, till Curzon Street," and
nodding him God-speed, she retired to consider possi-
bilities of preventing a speedy departure. Poor woman!
No sooner had she cleared away one obstacle than
another bulked in the path. And these, unfortunately,
she could not leap over or go round. They had to
be removed by toilsome pick-and'shovel work.
"What a mercy Demetrius is disposed of!" said
Lady Jim, to her mirror. "Two new wrinkles. I
shan't give that silly boy the chance of adding a
third."
On the morning of departure from Paris Leah
received a letter from Demetrius, which she showed
to Joan, almost as soon as the train steamed out of
the Gard du Nord. A week of talk in Paris, and five
years' study in England, had instructed Miss Tallentire
insufficiently in the French tongue; therefore did she
wilt away at the sight of the epistle. Lady Jim trans-
lated.
"He is still ill in some hotel"—she was careful
not to give the address—" but better, much better.
Later he proposes to go to Russia."
"I thought he was an exile," said Joan, doubtfully.
"He is. I think the folly of risking his liberty in
St. Petersburg is apparent. But he hopes to cajole
the Czar into granting his pardon. M'm!" Leah
packed away the letter in her dressing-bag. "I
daresay we shall hear of him next in Siberia."
Joan opened a pair of horrified eyes. "Lady
James!"
"Oh, it's a charming place, they say, and not at
all so disagreeable as people make out. The climate is


336 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
much more delightful than our own, dear, and the
society really intellectual. The Russians send all their
clever people there, you know. I am sure Dr. Demetrius
will be very comfortable."
"Exile to Siberia! It sounds horrible.'
"Yes—sounds, but isn't. You have been reading
Tolstoy and seeing melodramas, my dear."
"I thought Dr. Demetrius loved you," said Joan,
suddenly.
"Oh, he did; the man was a perfect nuisance. But,
you see, I did not love him."
"No, no I Of course you would not. I never
meant that. As poor dear Lord James's wife you
could not."
"And as poor dear Lord James's widow, I can, only
I don't."
Miss Tallentire was still confused. "You must think
me dreadfully rude—oh, dreadfully," she murmured,
regretting an unintentional insinuation.
"I think you dreadfully innocent, and dreadfully
sweet," said Leah, kissing the flushed face. "I'm
talking like that horrid Mulrady girl. Where do these
Americans pick up their adjectives?"
Even while chatting, and while the train tore
through a bleak landscape almost blotted out with
rain, Leah wondered who had written the letter. Not
Demetrius, certainly, although the calligraphy would
have caused an expert to commit perjury. Aksakoff
was more clever with tongue than pen, so Leah fell
back on Helfmann as a possible forger. Assuredly
she did not believe that he was a medical man, and
his fortunate presence at the needed hour argued
a carefully laid plot. The fiacre probably drove to


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 337
St. Lazare, and thence Helfmann had no doubt per-
sonally conducted his patient to Havre to be shipped
on board the Petrovitch yacht. Now the boat was
kicking her way through the grey northern spas, and
Demetrius, in possession of his senses, was looking
forward to a forced passage across the Urals. An
unpleasant journey at this time of the year, but
needful for men who wanted more than was good for
them. And, thank God, this particular man was out
of her life for ever. While offering up the hasty prayer
Lady Jim touched the peacock's feather, tucked away in
her pocket, and felt that life really was worth living,
when one knew how to dispose of disagreeable people.
Perhaps the prayer addressed to a Deity other than
the fetish made the domestic god sulky, but he, or it,
certainly did not expedite Leah's journey to Curzon
Street. For two weary days wind and rain, stormy
waves and over-cautious officials, detained the travellers
in Calais. A hurricane that would have clone credit
to the South Seas made the Channel impassible, and
the waves that Britannia is supposed to rule rebelled
furiously against her white cliffs. Leah, inconceivably
bored, watched the gusty hours through streaming
panes, and wondered if the gale extended to the
Mediterranean. If so, the ducal yacht with Frith and
his father on board must be having a pitch-and-toss
time of the worst. The Duke was no bar iened mariner,
and uncomfortable motions prolonged to excess might
make a man of his age so ill that he would Hero
Leah's vivid imagination produced a shudder. She
did not wish the kindly old Duke to die of exhaustion;
not that she cared overmuch for him, but Frith
succeeding to unlimited money-bags would be less easy
22


338 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
to manage in the important matter of occasional
cheques. The insurance money would not last for
ever with one of her tastes, and after all—since
this greedy Captain Strange would insist upon his
dues—she had only twenty-nine thousand pounds.
Then Jim would want ready money, and his demands
—she knew him of old—would probably be shameless.
Of course, seeing that, on the face of it, he was in-
volved deeper than she was in a shady conspiracy, he
could be told to mind his own business and marry
Sefiorita Fajardo, if desirous of being kept like a
gentleman. But to avoid unnecessary trouble it was
probable that she would have to send him a trifle.
How dreadful it was to think that a single shilling
of that hardly-earned money should slip through her
fingers; but the harpies had to be appeased or driven
away. She could not achieve the last, therefore her
purse-strings would have to be unloosened. Already
the pockets of Strange gaped hungrily, and it was her
hard fate to fill them.
"So absurd!" grumbled Lady Jim, as the wind
whimpered and the rain lashed the glass, "in the
middle ages one could have hired a nice bravo to
put him out of the way, and there would not have
been even funeral expenses. I must pay, I suppose,
but I'll see if the beast will not take the money by
instalments. There is always the chance that he might
be drowned between payments—and I hope he will
be," she ended devoutly.
In this amiable frame of mind she arrived at Curzon
Street, after sending Joan, brimful of Continental
experiences, to the less fashionable district of Lambeth.
The house looked cosy, the servants were attentive, the


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 339
insurance money swelled her bank account, and, best
of all, Demetrius was posting towards Siberia. On
the whole things were tolerable—it was not Leah's
custom to indulge in superlatives—so she decided to
remain for a week or two in London, prior to being bored
at Firmingham, where the Marchioness awaited the
home-coming of the yachting party. After her late
efforts in the cause of politics Lady Jim felt that she
really could not stand Hilda's artificial childishness
without an intermezzo of amusement.
But fun of any sort was hard to find, since her
widowhood and the emptiness of town precluded
indulgence. Piccadilly and the Park, St. James's
Street and Pall Mall, were as barren of pleasure and
a fashionable population as that Siberia towards which
Demetrius unwillingly journeyed. Even Lady Canvey
had moved out of the Early Victorian room into more
modern surroundings at Nice. Askew certainly paid his
promised visit, but he proved to be dull, thinking more
of the yacht than the woman. The technical terms
he employed in describing his purchase made Lady
Jim yawn, and she decided that, like all men, he was
unutterably selfish. However, she was sufficiently kind-
hearted—and diplomatic—to show him the pseudo letter,
and translate it for his benefit.
"Told you so," said he, when in possession of mis-
leading facts: "the beggar's all right—be on his legs
in a jiffy."
"Thanks to your care."
"Don't rub it into a fellow, Lady Jim!"
"Lady James!"
"Lady James it is, though it seems to me that we
are to be merely acquaintances."


340 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Most of my friends are acquaintances."
"But I want this acquaintance to be a friend."
"What an exacting nature! Well"—with a sigh—" I
suppose as you have loved and I have lost, we can
be friends till you marry."
"Why not after?"
"Dear Mr. Askew, a bachelor selects his own friends,
a wife chooses those of her husband. Meantime, you
are a nice boy, if somewhat fickle, and I like you
sufficiently to let you go. When does this ship of
yours go south?"
"Schooner, Lady Jim—schooner-yacht; two hundred
tons Lloyd's measurement and ".
"You explained that before."
"Did I? Yes, of course. Well, she is a beauty."
"Ah! The same term was applied to me once and
by a man who said that he would love me for ever."
"I don't believe I was ever so crude," retorted
Askew, bluntly; "you don't tell a lady that she
is a beauty, though you might say it to a shop-
girl."
"Really I I don't know any people of that class.
You do, apparently."
The young man grew red and wriggled like a
speared eel, thinking how very like a woman she
was. She did not want him, and she did want him;
she told him to go, and wished him to stop; she
pardoned his fickleness, yet kept it in mind. "Ah,
you bundle of contradictions I"
"Why not say a woman? One word explains your
three."
"I like to be verbose," said Askew, sulkily.
"You always are— fiist about me, and then about


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 341
this ship thing. I suppose the Fajardo woman will
be the next."
"Don't speak of her like that."
"Why not? She is my rival. I should be more
than mortal if I forgave her, and less than a woman
if I did not say nasty things about her."
"Say them about me, then."
"I have been doing my best, and really, you take
a ragging very well. There, poor boy "—she patted
his cheek—"I shan't tease you any more. When do
you sail?"
"In three weeks."
"For Buenos Ayres ? *
"Of course."
"Oh true and eager lover! Dine with me next
Thursday, and we can talk about her,"
"You'll be nasoy."
"About the ship? Oh, no 1"
"I thought you meant Lola."
"Perhaps I did; both ship and woman are * hers,'
you know. Next Thursday?"
"I shall be dehghted."
"You look it. Do try and conceal your emotions
better."
Askew laughed, and took up his hat. She was
more like a mosquito than a human being, and
he made for the door, weary of being stung. "I
would rather be your friend than your husband, Lady
Jim," he said coolly.
"What a compliment, seeing what husbands are!
I ought to know."
"Oh, pardon me—I forgot," he stuttered, much
confused.


342 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
She shook her head at him gravely. "What a
child in arms you are!"
To this last piece of impertinence Askew would
have replied rather sharply, thereby proving the
truth of her remark, but that the door was blocked
by a tall lean man.
"M. Aksakoff!" announced the footman, behind
the newcomer.
"Good-day, Lady James. Good-day, M. Aksakoff,
and good-bye."
Leah, when alone with the diplomatist, felv her
heart leap at the solemnity of his looks. She fancied
that he might have come to tell her of the da tor's
escape. In reality, Akeakoff was wondering hof? he
could pay her two thousand pounds without turning
the arranged comedy into a drama. Feeling hii way,
he allowed her the first word.
"You will stop to luncheon,' said Lady Jim, amiably.
"I trespass too much on your hospitality, dear
madame. You must have had enough of me at <r ir last
luncheon in Paris."
"Oh, I have forgotten all about Paris"; a id she
gave him a look which intimated that he als# should
feign forgetfulness.
"Ah, no; but pardon me, I came to inquir' about
M. Demetrius."
"Why from me? I know nothing. Wail —I do
know something. He wrote me a letter say»<\g he
was better and intended to go to Russia."
"Probably to see Petrovitch about his parr] n, I
wish I had seen him before he left Paris" an'
the diplomatist smiled when the letter was mention^
"Did you not see him?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 343
Aksakoff raised his eyebrows. "But it was im-
possible, madame," he explained, without even a wink.
"Dr. Helfmann took him away in the fiacre and I
departed for Havre. I did not return to Paris."
"I see; your business at Havre detained you."
"Longer than I expected," said the diplomatist,
taking his cue. "You see, madame, I was forced to
repeat my conversation with M. Demetrius to my
cousin the Count. I expect that he wrote to Paris,
and told M. Demetrius to come to Havre for a con-
versation."
"Without knowing his address? How clever!"
Aksakoff laughed. "You have me there, madame."
"I really don't know what you mean. How is
Katinka?"
"She is at Brussels. In good health, I believe."
"Does she know that M. Demetrius has gone to
St. Petersburg?"
"Possibly. He had to write announcing bis en-
gagement to you."
If he expected Lady Jim to be taken aback by
this abrupt speech, he was mistaken in the woman,
whose aplomb he should have known. She merely
laughed and dropped out a ready lie with slow
amusement. "Ah, my dear M. Aksakoff, clever
linguists as you Russians are, your comprehension of
the English language is limited—very, very limited.
M. Demetrius should have known, that in our tongue,
one word may have several meanings. See—a diocese
See—to perceive by the eye."
"Your illustration is felicitous, madame. I under-
stand, then, that M. Demetrius translated 'No' as
'Yes'!"


344 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
*' Oh, he was by no means so stupid as that. The
man bothered me with attentions for months, and
was quite a nuisance. I nearly spoke to poor dear
Jim about his smirking, grinning compliments. He
talked of me in clubs and followed everywhere, sighing
like a furnace—if a furnace ever does sigh. I speak
on Shakespeare's authority. To keep the creature
quiet I said something which he apparently mis-
construed—a sop to Cerberus, a cake to a child.
You understand."
"I think so. There was no engagement."
"None at all. How impertinent of him to suggest
such a thing, when my husband is scarcely cold in
his grave! But I pardon him on account of his
ignorance of our language, which undoubtedly led
him into error. When I see him again I shall
explain myself in a way which he will probably find
disagreeable."
Aksakoff smiled imperceptibly. "M. Demetrius is
much to blame, madame, for not having given more
attention to your English grammar. I go to St.
Petersburg myself in a week. Perhaps you will
give me some message to him."
"No! The man is a fool, and I never wish to
hear about him again."
"Your command shall be obeyed. From this moment
his name shall never be mentioned by me "; and he
mentally admired the clever way in which she had
wriggled out of an untenable situation. But the
object of his visit had still to be approached, and at
this moment an inspiration how to approach it came
opportunely. The mention of poor dear Jim sug-
gested lines upon which he might proceed with


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 345
safety. "I come on a serious errand, madame," said
he, softly.
"Yes!" she did not know what he meant, and
under the circumstances did not intend to inquire. To
advance under the guns of masked batteries was never
Leah's mode of campaigning.
"Your husband—pardon, your late husband—played
bridge," said the diplomatist, so crudely as to render
himself unworthy of the name.
"I believe he did."
"Assuredly; and with me on occasions. Twelve
months ago we were a party of five at Torquay."
"I believe Jim did go there sometimes. Go on."
"It is hard to go on, madame," said Aksakoff, with
feigned nervousness, "as I have a confession to
make."
"I grant you absolution beforehand."
"You are too good. Then I can repay you by
handing over the money."
"What money?"
"My losses at bridge. Yes; with your husband
and others I played a great deal—unfortunately for
my pockets."
She noticed the misused plural and smiled. "Most
people made that remark grammatically, when they
played with Jim. So you lost t"
"Two thousand pounds."
The exact sum he had mentioned at Monte Carlo.
At once she saw that he wished to pay wages on a
sufficiently plausible pretext. The money would have
been useful to pay Strange and Jim, so that she
could keep her thirty thousand pounds intact; but,
strangely enough in so unscrupulous a woman, she


34« LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
could not make up her mind to finger such dirty
gold.
"Death pays all debts," she said quietly.
"On the part of the corpse, assuredly. But those
who live have to reckon with the executors."
"In that case you had better see the Marquis
of Frith. He is poor Jim's executor."
"Ah, no, niadame; be kind. I should ha% ii
this money before, but my salary did not pwtiiit.
What would M. le Marquis say if I confessed that
I delayed so long to pay a debt of honour?"
"What does it matter, so long as you do pay?"
"It matters much amongst men," said Aksakoff,
stiffly. "But you, a woman, and a clever woman,"
he added with emphasis, "will understand. I pray
you, madame, to take my cheque for the full amount,
and permit my mind to be at rest."
Lady Jim, priding herself on performing a hard
penance for her late rascality, shook her head. "No,"
said she, seriously; "I am quite sure that Jim, who was
often in a hole himself, would not have been hard on
you. Had he lived the money would have been a god-
send to him—I admit that; but I really cannot take
payment of any gambling debts. It would not be
right," she finished virtuously.
Aksakoff was less surprised than she anticipated.
Her refusal of this money assured him that the
story of the engagement was true, and that Leah
had rid herself of an undesirable suitor, who had
power to compel completion of a forced contract.
What power Demetrius had over her Aksakoff could
not guess, but the whole circumstances showed that
her desire had been for the obliteration of the man,


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 347
and not to earn two thousand pounds. But nothing
of this appeared on his calm face.
"Pray take the cheque, madame," he urged, and held
it under her nose.
"No, no!" She pushed back her chair from that
too alluring bait. 'I cannot take it, and I shall
say nothing about it. Stay"—she took the fluttering
paper from his hand and rose. "You have paid me
on Jim's behalf—is that not so?"
"Yes"; Aksakoff watched her, wondering at this
sight-about-face.
"Then "—she approached the fire and flung in the
cheque—" the debt is paid, and you are free."
"Ah, but no."
"I say, yes." Lady Jim approached him with
outstretched hands, and a smile which had won her
many things. "You are my friend and not my debtor.
Is it not so?"
He kissed those extended hands. "Madame, a
hard-working and poor official thanks you. My services
now and ever are at your command."
With the thought that Demetrius might return
unexpectedly from Siberia, she thanked him. "I may
have to remind you of that some day."
"When and where you will, madame!" His pale eyes
lighted up with enthusiastic fire. "Were you my wife,
I should be an ambassador."
"You may be some day. Madame Aksakoff has
talents."
"Madame Aksakoff is—Madame Aksakoff; und
you, are"
"Well, what?" she demanded, smiling.
"An angel."


348 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"How weak!"
"All language is weak, when used to describe such
a woman as you, madame. I take my leave. Your
servant!"
"And my friend?"
"To the death, madam?!"
He went out as stiff and solemn as ever, with the
convictiin that he had parted from Jezebel's cousin-
german. Neverth less, he admired her prodigiously,
especially as he intended to put into his own pockets
the two thous.ind pounds she had so tactfully earned,
and so foolishly rejected. The bureaucracy would never
hear of her folly, and it would be a pity to return
money which a poor official could bank against evil
days. Not that Aksakoff expected these. The capture
of Demetrius, without publicity, and so cleverly achieved,
would gain him infinite credit as an efficient servant
of the Czar. "A charming and astute woman," he
thought gratefully, when ruminating on certain ad-
vancement. "But dangerous," added Prudence.
Leah went about for the next seven days with her
head in the air, and with a contempt for those people
who found renunciation difficult. She could renounce,
with ease: had she not refused a large sum of money
because she felt that it was wrong to take it? What
self-denial! She felt aggressively virtuous, and but for
the circumstances would have liked to trumpet her
perfections in the street. That she did not do so was
further self-denial and a flattering conscience, with which
Providence had nothing to do, assured her that she
was a pearl amongst women. Now that Demetrius was
out of sight she calmly put him out of mind, and
began to think how she could prevent Askew from


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 349
spoiling Jim's nefarious courting of the Spanish lady.
There was no way, so far as she could see, since the
sailor's love had grown cold, and she had no bonds in
which to bind him. But she trusted to that luck which
the fetish always sent her way, and sure enough
the luck came, but some weeks later. Beforehand the
fetish, still annoyed by her prayer to another god,
sent her a reminder that it could be disagreeable. A
holt from the blue came in the shape of a telegram
from Firminghain.
"Come to me at once," wired the Marchioness.
"Yacht lost off Brest. Duke and Frith and most of
crew drowned. Come."
"She might have spared the last word," said Leah,
staring and stunned.


CHAPTER XXVI
Lady Jim boarded a special train to Firmingham in
a royal rage, the more riotous for necessary suppression.
After the shock of the unexpected had passed, she
gave a flitting thought of pity to her drowned
relatives, and reverted hastily to selfish considerations.
Solitude permitting the play of temper, she punished
the fetish, by flinging its outward and visible sign
of a peacock's feather from the compartment which
witnessed the unmasking. That her Baal should have
played her such a trick was intolerable, and still
more intolerable the thought that circumstances muzzled
her. For the first time in her victorious life Leah
Kaimes dealt with a fixed decree, against which there
was no appeal.
What could she do? Nothing! To make chaos
of a continent would not have relieved her feelings,
and there was nothing to wreck in the limited space
of the carriage. Unable to sit still, she threw herself
from seat to seat, feeling like a caged tiger, with
the added savagery of a trained intellect. Unlike
the beast, she had the use of speech to vent her
wrath, but"this she did not utilise from a conviction
that no words would do justice to the situation.
A Texan mule-driver's vocabulary would have fallen
short of her requirements. Her impotent anger was
35°


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 351
like that of a dog leaping and slavering against an
offending but unreachable moon.
And the facts—the hard ironic facts, which she
could not do away with, scheme as she might! Those
inflexible actualities buzzed in her brain, until repe-
tition took the rhythm of the droning wheels underfoot.
Pentland was dead, along with his son and heir;
Hilda, a widow with two girl babies, who did not
count in the succession; Jim was wiped out of social
existence, and by her own act. Remained Lionel,
the curate, the prig, her one honest man—the Duke
of Pentland. Leah could have screamed in the face
of this crushing truth.
A title at the best, fifty thousand a year, three
country seats, a town house, spacious and crammed
with beautiful things, and a Scotch moor with an
adorable shooting-box. This was the heritage of the
new peer! "Of a milk-and-water parson," raged
Lady Jim, unjustly, "who will waste everything in
charity, and turn the houses into pigsties for the
unclean. Oh, Lord, to think that such a clerical ass
should get the inside runnings!" This latter phrase
she had picked up from Miss Mulrady, and at the
moment it seemed expressive.
The position would not bear thinking about; yet
she had to think, appealing betweenwhiles to the
gods-of-things-as-they-are for reasons to justify such
shabby treatment. What had she done, that they
should be so disagreeable? It was enough to make
a truly virtuous woman, as she assuredly could call
herself, dance a can-can in Piccadilly. Then she
desisted for a few moments from calling the Unseen
bad names to lament over her own short-sightedness.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 353
she could and did on the fetish. It was something of
a relief to have thrown its peacock manifestation out
of the window.
Two hours in the railway carriage tamed her unruly
nerves into some sort of submission, and partially
schooled her into accepting the inevitable. To make
the best of it, to rob the new Duke shamelessly of
money and the Curzon Street house, on the plea of
disinheritance, were the results at which she arrived.
By the time Firmingham appeared through the carriage
windows she had ceased to kick against the pricks. The
mask was on her face when the train stopped, and
it was a quiet and demure lady who alighted at the
station. Even the sister-in-law who entered the great
house to console the Marchioness was as sympathetic
as the most exacting could have required.
She suppressed a groan when she passed through the
doors of the lordly mansion that was really and truly
her own, but managed by a steady exercise of her
strong will to greet Colley with great calmness. The
butler intimated that Lady Frith wept incessantly in
her boudoir, and that the Duke
"What?" queried Leah, sharply, adding more gram-
matically, "Who?"
"His Grace the Duke, my lady. He is in the
study."
"Mr. Lionel Kaimes?"
"As was, my lady. His Grace came down last
night."
"Augh! Why wasn't there an accident on the
line?" muttered she, who longed to announce herself as
a genuine duchess and could not.
"I beg pardon, my lady!"
23


354 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Oh—er—I'll go to my room, Colley. Tell his
Grace I shall see him in an hour."
When she had changed her dress for one heavier
with crape, as a sign of additional grief, and had lain
for a miserable forty minutes without closing an eye,
and had swallowed a much-needed dose of sal volatile,
and had relieved her feelings by scolding an unoffending
maid, she went before the footlights to play her most
difficult and unpalatable part. The former nobody,
seated at his predecessor's desk, rose, looking pale and
careworn.
"A terrible thing," said the new Duke, giving his
hand gravely.
"Awful. I can scarcely believe it. Is it really
true?" and she had a passing hope that it might not be,
seeing she could not benefit.
"Only too true, unfortunately."
"For those two, I suppose you mean. You're all
right."
"A square peg in a round hole, I fear," he sighed.
"I would give much that both had survived."
"How unnatural!" commented Lady Jim, with a
grimace. "But you always were eccentric. People
won't mind that, now you are a duke. But I am sorry
—really—for them, I mean. Such an awful thing
to be cut off before you've made your arrangements
for an agreeable reception in the next world. What
a mercy they went together—for company, you know;
and they say drowning is really quite nice after the first
choking is over."
Lionel looked at her sternly, but felt helpless. She
played with the solemn issues of life and death as a
child with a bauble. Would nothing touch her heart?


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 355
Would nothing make her serious? The flippancy jarred
on his overstrung nerves. "Please do not talk like
that," said he, harshly and emphatically. "Please do
not."
"I am only trying to cheer you up," she answered,
opening her eyes wide, and with a faint smile softening
her hard mouth. "I really cried—you mustn't think
me hard-hearted; really, I cried when I heard of the
accident. I suppose it was an accidentf"
"I should call it the act of God."
"Oh!" Leah could find no very pertinent reply,
and glided dexterously into another subject, to prevent
religious instruction. "I came down to see poor Hilda,
as she wanted me so badly. But I thought it best to
learn details from you first. We must spare the poor
thing's feelings, you know, Lionel," ended Lady Jim,
thoughtfully.
His face brightened. "I am glad you call me
that," said he, earnestly, "for I confess it is difficult
for me to respond to my title."
"You'll get used to it," eho assured him. "I suppose
you will drop the parson now?"
"Certainly not. I am still my Master's servant.
He has merely raised me to a higher and more
responsible position in His household."
"Raised your wages also," murmured Leah, shrugging.
"I beg your pardon, Lionel, I should not have said
that."
"You should not, indeed," was the pained response.
"It's a kind of hysteria," apologised Lady Jim,
almost at a loss for an excuse, "like that man who
botanised on his mother's grave, you know. Besides,
people who really feel, laugh awfully when sorrow


3S6 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
comes. And Jim's death took most of my tears—poor
dear Jim I I daresay you think that I am unfeeling;
but I'm not—really and truly, I'm not. What with
these dear things dying so unexpectedly, ai.d my own
feeling of widowhood, and condolences from people who
will say the wrong thing, I feel broken-hearted."
Lionel smiled grimly at this incoherent and wholly
false explanation.
"You have a strange way of showing grief, Lady
James."
"Don't be nasty, now that you are up in the world.
I'll be quite different with Hilda, poor soul, though
I must be natural with you. It is a compliment, if
you only look at it in the right way, which of course,
with your priggishness, you won't. And you needn't
use that cheap title of mine, just to remind me how
nearly I've missed being called by a more expensive
one. I suppose Joan will be your duchess. Do you
think she will fill the position?"
"Admirably."
"How curt! There is still a lot of the parson about
you, Lionel."
"And ever will be."
"World without end, 1 suppose. Hysteria again,
Duke, so don't look shocked. Give me details."
The young man looked again at this wonderful being.
For many months he had known the impossibility of
altering Leah's view of things teen and unseen. The
most sacred subjects seemed to appeal to her sense of
humour, and no solemnity could banish the ever-ready
smile from her lips. In reality he was unjust in
thinking thus. Lady Jim, considering her losses and
the ironic position she occupied, only kept herself from


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 357
shrieking out the truth by giving vent to ill-timed
frivolities. Her greatest relief would have been to till
this prig that he was a supplanter. Hysteria, said she,
was the excuse for unnatural merriment, and truly
hysteria it was, although she could not swear to it.
Unaware of all this turmoil in the mind of the mourner
in motley, Lionel positively thought that troubles had
rendered her distraught, and so passed over her in-
congruities.
"The yacht was on her homeward way," he ex-
plained, in the eminently laboured fashion of a
landsman when dealing with ships. "During that
storm a week ago she went down off Brest—Cape
Brest."
"Struck on a reef?"
"No; she sprang a leak, and the boats were stove
in, so no one could be saved in that way. By clinging
to a spar the steward reached shore. He alone survived";
and Lionel covered his face to indulge in a silent prayer
for those who had perished.
Lady Jim was more practical according to her
lights. "Why did you only hear this week-old news
yesterday?"
"The steward, the survivor, was ill with fever: also he
was wounded in the head,—against the rock, I suppose.
The yacht was seen to founder far off shore, but no
one at Brest knew her name. When the steward
came to himself the other day, he explained, and the
news was telegraphed to the Duke's lawyers, who sent
for me. I expect we shall not learn full details till
this steward arrives. He is now on his way to
London."
"And the Duke—Fritht"


358 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Their bodies are in the depths with the ship
and those who formed her crew. Peace be to their
souls!"
"You needn't worry about that," said Leah, tartly,
and paying her tribute to the dead. "I am quite
sure that the Duke and Frith have gone to that
heaven you're always talking about. It is awful,"
she added pensively, and with a shudder; "but
talking only makes it worse. I'll go and see Hilda,
poor dear."
Lionel followed her to the door. "Lady James,
let me beg of you to keep the—er—hysteria in
check."
"Of course," she assured him, giving her hand
frankly; "I always adapt my mood to my company.
It would be useless for one woman to waste hysteria
on another—both know too much about it. I'll be nice
—oh, you can be sure of that. I'm not a bad sort, my
good man."
"Sometimes I think you are a very decent sort, Lady
James."
"And on other occasions?" she questioned, un-
moved.
"Don't ask me."
"I won't. You can't explain, and will only fib.
Parsons can't keep back an answer, whether they know
anything of the matter in hand or not. But I'll be
good to that poor baby-woman—indeed I will."
And indeed she was, swinging round to the opposite
extreme, with the protean adaptability of her nature.
Besides, after the interview with the new Duke
she felt able to command her feelings better. It
is only possible to act perfectly when the emotions


360 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Jim was alive, but even if he were dead, she did not
think that Hilda's vision could possibly become fact.
The Duke, who had turned angel in his old age, and
Frith, who was always pious, had a chance certainly;
but Jim, when his turn came, would probably not be
of the party.
However, the business of consoling a sore heart had
to be attended to, and Leah dosed Hilda with all the
platitudes which the Marchioness had used during a
similar and earlier event. And Lady Jim was so
admirable an actress that she really deceived herself
into tliinking that her stage-play was real life. Her
eloquence, her attentions, her hoverings like a guardian
angi 1 over Hilda, her bringing in the children—that
was a master-stroke—and her general zeal in drying
a mourner's tears, were truly wonderful. By the time
:,he left the Marchioness, sitting up with "his children"
on her lap, soothed and comforted, and grateful for
Leah's kindness, poor Lady Jim felt quite exhausted.
"I do hope there will be a decent dinner," she
soliloquised, in the seclusion of her own room. "I
can't stand much more of this without food."
Through the troubles of death and the joys of birth,
the worry of weak minds and the scheming of strong
ones, ever moves the solid business of life connected
with eating and sleeping. Therefore the Firmingham
cook, being a hird servant, was sufficiently master of
his emotions to send up a really tempting repast. The
new Duke and the disinherited Duchess partook of
this meal in a small room without attendance. Wishing
to talk family matters, they did not desire eavesdropping
footmen. Besides, Hilda remained in her own apart-
ment, nourishing her emotions with red lavender, and


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 361
calling at intervals for "Bunny" to come back. Lady
Jim paid several visits to the poor little soul during
the evening, and each time was successful in cheering
her up; but it was trying work, as again and again
she had to begin from the beginning. No wonder she
looked harassed when seated opposite to her host. Lionel
thanked her gratefully, and with reason, for Hilda
had eulogised Leab and her work of mercy.
"I knew you would prove yourself a true woman,"
said he, pouring her out a glass of champagne.
"Oh, Lord!" said Lady Jim, sipping the wine, and
wondered what he would say could he see into her
mind. "Give me some of that vol-au-vent, Lionel.
It is really very good."
The man felt slightly disappointed. "You can eat?"
"Do you require me to tell you that?" she asked
lightly. "I have enjoyed every course. Eat—I
should think so. You don't want me to faint, as Hilda
has been doing."
"But your feelings"
"Oh, they are well under control, now. And after
all "—Leah paused with a fork half-way to her mouth—
"it's best to be sensible even when things smash. If
I had come down to howl about the house, where
would you have been?"
"I really cannot understand your nature."
Lady Jim nodded. "Same here. I never know what
I shall do under given circumstances, save keep my poor
wits about me. We're strange beasts, Lionel—strange
beasts."
He disagreed, mindful of her Good Samaritan kind-
ness. "You make yourself out to be worse than you
are, Lady James."


362 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Don't you make any such mistake. I never seek
cheap praise by crying down my virtues. Were you my
father-confessor—which you are not—and I religious—
which I have no inclination to be—I should shock you
into Hilda's state. Poor little thing, what an undis-
ciplined mind she has, and how she does work for those
tyrants the emotions! I think you had better send
for Joan: she is used to women who run wild.''
"You put things unpleasantly," said he, uneasily.
"And truthfully. Answer my question, please."
"Joan arrives to-morrow with her mother."
"I am glad," Leah assured him fervently. "Too
many female cooks can never spoil the funeral broth.
The more women you have in a mourning house the
better. We like to weep in company and to talk
obituary notices. That is, other women do. I fancy
I have a dash of the man in me, and this sort of
undertaker rejoicing gives me the creeps."
Lionel secretly agreed with her, although he dis-
approved of the mode of expression. Ostentatious grief
he disliked, as most men do, and discussing funeral
emotions threadbare was not to his healthy liking.
Therefore did he talk business with Lady Jim. It was
necessary to distract his attention, she said, and so
set about plundering the heir. By the time coffee
arrived Lionel had promised her the Curzon Street
house as a gift, and had agreed to pay all debts as the
late Duke had arranged. Also, untruthfully assured
by Leah that her temporal prosperity had suffered by
the untimely demise of Jim, he promised to pay a
quarterly thousand a year for the rest of her life.
"Yes," said Lionel, emphatically, "even if you marry,
Lady James."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 363
"I have no intention of marrying yet," said Leah,
who was busy with Kummel. She really felt that
the consoling of a tearful widow required Kiimmel.
"I thought that Mr. Askew admired you."
"He admires a new schooner he has bought, and
some woman in South America. Oh, Mr. Askew has
a catholic mind, I can tell you."
"Dr. Demetrius!"
"He has gone to Russia, I believe, on business con-
nected with his pardon. Didn't Joan tell you how he
was taken ill in Paris?"
"Yes; what a strange thing!"
"Oh, I don't know. He once told me that he in-
herited fits—mother's side. It was very rude of him
to have one in my rooms, but some men are so in-
considerate."
"He loves you."
"Or loved me—which?"
"Present tense, I fancy. Will you marry him?"
"Will I marry the Emperor of China, you mean.
No, thanks; I have no wish to live in a country of
bounce and bombs. And I never could read those
novels written by men with unpronounceable names.
Besides, I can't bear dapper little men with waxed
moustaches. I only tolerated Dr. Demetrius because
he was useful to Jim."
"A great friend of your husband's, I believe."
"Do you? Does one generally make a friend of
one's doctor?"
"The man was certainly credited with being your
friend. And more, he talked openly of his love for
you."
"What bad taste! I don't see how you can hold


364 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
me responsible. He did love me, I believe—at least,
he pestered mo with attentions. It's a mercy he has
gone to Si—I mean to Russia. I hope he'll stay
there, and be eaten up by white bears like those poor
brats Ehsha was so spiteful to. As to marrying "—her
eyes twinkled—"it won't be easy to replace poor Jim.
He was such a good husband."
"You never said that when he was alive."
"Of course not: he would have taken advantage of
the compliment. But Jim wasn't bnd on the whole.
He left me alone, at all events. Perhaps his successor
will bother me to show public affection: as if I would—
or could, for the matter of that."
"Lady James, do you love any one but yourself?"
"You and Joan—dear little innocent glass-case dolls
that you are. Yes; you may blush' and smile, but I
am really in earnest. You were always so rude to me
that I knew you to be genuine."
"Oh!" Lionel exhibited shocked surprise. "I hope
I was never rude."
"Horribly, on all occasions. If you had not been,
I never should have believed that you were genuine.
When people mean what they say, and don't want any-
thing from one, they are always rndo; it's a kind of
trade-mark. I am sure Socrates was a man you could
always trust and would never have invited to dinner.
You're something like him, only you don't ask questions
and are better-looking. I always consider you the one
honest man in a world of rogues, and if you were not
engaged to Joan, I should marry you."
Lionel coloured still deeper and laughed in an
embarrassed fashion. "I might have something to say
to that."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 365
"Not at all. Didn't you hear me say that I should
have married you. What could you or any man do
against me?'' and she laughed with an insolent pride in
her beauty and powers. "By the way," she added, "I
have to run up to town to-morrow on business. Do you
mind?"
"Not at all. Joan and her mother will be here. Do
exactly what you please, Lady James."
"Call me Leah, now that you ai e the head of the
family," she murmured, and laid a gentle hand on his
shoulder.
He threw back his head and met her eyes, with
a boyish blush. "Leah!" he breathed. "Very well,
then - Leah."
Lady Jim tapped his smooth cheek indulgently.
"You foolish thing," she said, kindly; "if it was
worth my while, I could "Leaving the sentence
unfinished and Lionel furious, she left the room. That
she—this hardened coquette of the world, should dare
to think he would forget the sweetest and best of
girls. Lot her sing the song of the sirens as she might,
he would never—no, never, prove false to Joan. But
honest as were these thoughts, Lionel was but a man,
when all was said and done, and the touch on his
shoulder, the look in her eyes, the cooing murmur of her
voice, made him wince, and not unpleasantly. Well was
it for the young man that Leah did not choose to try her
wiles, else he might have been lured towards that pit the
edges of which are wreathed with roses. Had his
future Duchess been any other than Joan the simple,
a perverse spirit might have led Lady Jim to indulge
in some perilous amusement; but she liked the
girl, and honestly respected Lionel. Therefore did the


366 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
lover scoff at her magic arts, strong only in escaping
temptation. Had Leah put forth her powers "Silly
little donkey," she thought, climbing the stairs, "as if
I couldn't do what 1 liked. It would be a hard battle,
but I could—I could—I could,—only I shan't," she
finished. "Joan is a doar girl, and I am the most
worried woman in the world."
She made the latter part of this final remark again,
when she conned a brusque and somewhat imperative
letter which had arrived by the evening post. It
came from one Richard Strange, and purported to
be written from a third-rate Strand hotel. This un-
civilised communication intimated that the aforesaid
Strange would be obliged—this underlined—if her lady-
ship would afford him an immediate interview.
"M'm," commented Leah, glancing suspiciously at the
underlined word, "he isn't sure of his money, and means
to be nasty if he doesn't get it. Well "—she heaved a
sigh—" he must be paid, I suppose, the blackmailing
beast. And the whole sum down, I expect. Time pay-
ments won't be acceptable to a man who writes in
this fashion."
She wrote an artful letter, stating that Dr. Demetrius
had spoken of his travels with a Captain Strange, and,
solely because she wished to hear of poor Mr. Garth,
who had been a protege of her late father-in-law, she
made an appointment at 10, Curzon Street, for five
the next evening. This epistle, which did not recognise
existing facts and could be shown to the whole world
without betraying anything underhand, she sent off at
once. If possible, she would have shirked meeting a man
she more than suspected of being a brute. But to van-
quish danger one must meet it, as she very well knew.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 367
"And if he wants moro than his thousand," thought
Lady Jim, again on her way to the widowed Marchioness,
"he'll find that I am quite equal to deal with him,
and with a dozen like him, if need be. A thousand
pounds! Oh, Lord! The greedy wretch I
Then she spread her wings as a ministering angel.


CHAPTEE XXVII
"No!" rasped the lean man, and his eyes hardened
like those of a cat with her claws out; "you figure it
out, ma'am, in your own way very prettily, I don't deny.
But my Pisgah-sight's got to be took, you bet. Guess
we'll do th' view in a bunch, an' toss fur lots."
Leah smiled vaguely, because she was not sure of her
ground, and required a translator badly. Jim had been
abstruse on occasions, but this seafaring person spoke
the shibboleth of a shifting population to excess. Never
having met one of this breed before, she did not know
how to handle him. Captain Strange was not a
Muscovite diplomatist, who would call black white, or
even grey, to please her; and, moreover, he appeared
to be extraordinarily unsympathetic in the presence of
lovely woman. The magic of sex had worked weakly
hitherto, and this brusque visitor gave her to under-
stand that he was not to be cajoled into make-believe
conversation. He required, and declared emphatically
that he did require, an unvarnished statement of
facts, to be argued exhaustively, so that ho might know
—as he tersely put it—where he dropped anchor.
"You don't chuck orange-peel my way, ma'am," said
the mariner, and intended to clinch his assertion by
spitting. But the sight of the carpet pulled him back
to civilisation.
368


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 369
The friend of Demetrius, owner and captain of the
Stormy Petrel, presented himself as a tall, small-bonerl
man, with no superfluous flesh on his frame-work, and
with a jaw as hard—from bullying underlings—and
as blue—from close shaving—as were his eyes. The
tint of these, added to the blackness of curling hair,
combined with the racy vernacular which he flung
fairly in her face, incline! Lady Jim to cliss him as
an Irish-American. But from the discourteous way in
which he spoke—as they never would have spoken in
dear dirty Dublin—and from his habit of interjecting
slang words chosen from the domestic speech of the
Five Nations, she was puzzled to fix his nationality
accurately. As a matter of private history, and this
she discovered later, he was entirely cosmopolitan, and,
out of sheer contrariety, owed alleyiance to no particular
flng. Not a bad-looking freebooter, Leah decided, with
his regular features, and well-shaped head, and white
teeth, and ruddy clean-shaven face; but dangerous, was
her second and wiser thought. She was right. The
man of many lands was also of many minds, but at
the back of them all lay the unalterable determination
to ride rough-shod over any one who would submit. As
Lady Jim also held to the same theory of individualism,
it was not unlikely that a brisk encounter might ensue,
and for this she was quite prepared. Meantime, she
decided that he was picturesque, and, in his rough blue
clothes, with a red neck-tie and barbaric gold rings in
his ears, and a general air of "you-be-damnedness,"
would have amused her as a new figure from the under-
world, but that the large issues of the conversation
induced seriousness.
u I don't understand you, and I am sure you do not
24


370 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
understand me," was her observation, after digesting the
orange-peel parable.
"Let it go at that, ma'am. But I reckon I kin
make m'self as clear as any man, livin' or dead, when
dollars are in th' pool. Now you"—he shook a large
brown finger—"you, ma'am, give me taffy."
"What is taffy?"
"What you might call sugar—best brand, an' no
sand in it, anyhow. I've struck heaps of the female in
my time, and it's all taffy with them, till they annex
the outfit, an' then y' kin go hang, I guess"; he fixed
her with a true quarter-deck eye. "I surmise as
you're tryin' t' play Sally Waters low down. Not
much—oh, no. I should smile considerable to think as
any gilded female got th' bulge on me. Go slow,
ma'am. Make no haste when the fat's afire, ses Isaiah.
Reckon he knew things, did thot prophet."
Leah smiled again at this Wild West outburst.
"You are a free child of nature, Captain Strange."
"Taffy agin. I'm a man, you bet, same along aa
your husband."
"I should think you and he would get on together
extremely well," said Lady Jim, dryly. "But don't
you think you could contrive to be a little less rude?"
"Why, bless y', this is civil fur me."
"How your crew must love you!"
"I'd boot 'em round the ship if they didn't," snapped
Strange, very ferociously. "They've got t' love me up
t' the level of workin' their insides out, else I'd lay
out every man jack in his little wooden overcoat."
"What a sweet nature you have! Are you married 1"
"Got a wife o' sorts," said the mariner, indifferently,
"an' two kids of th' best." His eyes softened. "Now,


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 371
ma'am, you could talk t' me fur a millennium 'bout
thorn little nippers."
The last word was pure Whitechapel, and Leah
wondered if that parish could claim this buccaneer.
But time was too valuable to go into his private history,
so she replied gently, quick to perceive that there was
a Haw in his armour, "On another occasion I shall
be delighted to talk nursery, Captain Strange; but the
millennium has not yet arrived in Ourzon Street."
"Y've got me there, I don't deny," cried Strange,
hardening. "Now this here racket, as I've sailed
long-sides t' fix up"
"It will be fixed up, as you call it, at once," said
Lady Jim, sharply. "The matter is very simple."
"Is it now? Lay on th' paint, ma'am."
She passed over this insolence very wisely. "You
were kind to that poor Mr. Garth," she explained,
calmly. "And, besides, took Dr. Demetrius to my
husband in Jamaica. For these services I am willing
to give you one thousand pounds—in gold, if you like ";
she thought the metal might tempt him into closing
with the offer, but it did not.
"Shucks, ma'am, shucks! You've bin talkin' paint
an' putty fur th' las' hour an' more. T'ain't no good
nohow—not a bit, seein' as I'm being paid fur cold-
drawn kidnappiu' of your husband, so as y' might loot
a company of sorts."
Leah winced at this rude blast of speech, which
blew to shreds the verbal draperies with which she
was trying to clothe naked and unpleasant facts. "I
object to the word kidnap. Lord James went with
you of his own accord."
"You kin lay to that, ma'am, an' mighty spry wos


372 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
he in Hghtin' out of these gilded halls int' the free an'
wild. Kidnappin' it ain't, if y' come t' th' bone, so I
climb down slick. Oil, there ain't no meanness 'bout me,
ma'am. Prove me wrong, an' I go pious right along."
"As you are apparently pious now, Captain Strange,
there may be a chance of our arriving at an under-
standing."
He nodded. "If as how you'll talk down t' th'
bed-rock level of what we've bin doin', ma'am."
Leah winced again, not liking to run with this
ruffian in iniquitous harness. "You want a thousand
pounds?"
"Well," drawled the captain, "y" might say faiiar
than thet."
"Which means that you intend to ask for what you
won't get."
"Huh! Guess thet'll be as right as pie, when I
open out."
"You can open out now," said Lady Jim, coolly.
Her antagonist admired this bluffing to the extent
of slapping his thigh, and chuckling like a blackbird
over a worm. "You're a dandy one t' deal with, fur
sure, an' a woman at that. My word"—this was
Australian—" if my missus hed bin your sort, ma'am, I'd
ha' bin walkin' a liner as a golden-barred skipper.
You kin freeze on t' thet, straight."
Lady Jim laughed, not ill pleased. Aksakoff had
paid her some such compliment, and it was interesting
to see the diverse ways in which the same idea can
be expressed. "Go on," said- she, nodding her thanks,
"Don't waste chin-music, neither," mused the captain.
"Want's t' git at my cards afore she shows her own."
M You are in the right so far, Captain Strange"


374 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"I know German, if you prefer to talk in that
tongue."
lie recovered with another stare. "I reckon y've hed
a board-school eddication all along th' line. I swear in
any lingo handy"
"So I hear," she informed him swiftly.
"But I don't stock furrein chin-chin nowhow. An'
iiow, ma'am "—he expanded his chest and pulled out his
cheeks—" I'll trouble y' t' han' over ten thousand
dollars."
"What's that in English?"
"Two thousand pounds." Evidently Strange had
gone to considerable trouble in calculating his black-
mail.
"And if you do not get it?"
"Then I guess you'll be sent up."
Leah laughed scornfully. "I understand: unless I
submit to extortion you will tell this story about your
supposed nephew and Mr. Garth."
"I'll rip out everything" the captain assured her
without flinching; " an' u th' nearest copper "—the last
word, she observed, was popular cockney.
"Be careful," she warned him; "our police make
capital out of rascality."
The sailor choked and his eyes bulged. "Ras—ras—
rascality?"
"Blackmail, in plain English, Captain Strange."
"Naow don't git me riz," Strange implored her.
"I'm a holy terror with m' hair off."
"Oh, we can tame wild beasts in this country."
"But if I tell"
"Tell what?"
"Dar.:n!" breathed the astonished man; then almost


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 375
shrieked an explanation: "Why, thet Dr. Demetrius
brought Garth as a corp t' Kingston, an' yanked your
husband int' the Blue Mountains t' sham death. Aye;
he did, y' bet. An' thet Berrin'—Lord James, y' call
him in your cussed fine way—come aboard my barkey,
while the corp as wos called by his name lighted out fur
th' old country, so thet / might run rings round a
company of sorts."
"How interesting! And what has it all to do with
me?"
"My stars!" Strange rose to stamp the more freely.
"Sit down, please," said Lady Jim, sweetly. "I do
not allow people of your class to show their manners in
my drawing-room."
'It should be a prison with you in it," he raged.
What a brute you are! Because you think that I
am under your thumb, you not only attempt blackmail,
but add insult."
"I'll make things hum, I kin tell y\ I'll bust up
this conspiracy."
"What conspiracy?" asked Leah, stubbornly.
Strange made for the door with a nautical roll.
"You kin arsk th' nearest copper. I'll give him details,
never fear."
"Close the door after you, please," said Lady Jim, as
he wrenched it open fiercely.
The captain immediately banged it again with a
naughty word, and turned to behold her opening a
book. "Cold-drawn cheek of th' mos' freezing style,"
murmured the almost stupefied man. "Oh, my country,
t'aint no wonder he took leg-bail. If I wos married t'
her I'd larrup her every day an' twice on Sundays."
"Not gone yet?" inquired Leah, glancing over the


376 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
top of her book. "Oh, please do! I dislike hearing
an illiterate person muttering."
"Lord keep me fro' murder," gasped Strange, piously.
"Say, ma'am, ain't you afeared?"
"Awfully! And as there are several policemen
within call"
"Bring 'em up—bring 'em all up, right along."
"I will, if you do not go away "; and she reached for
the bell.
"Snakes! Y' miis' hev a card up your sleeve."
"Perhaps I have."
"Or y" may be bluffin'."
"Perhaps I am. Don't you think it would be better
if you sat down and tiilked pleasantly?"
"If I'd a wife like you," commenced the captain,
obeying, "I'd'
"I am quite sure you would. Bullies like you always
enjoy wife-beating."
"I ain't a bully "; he wiped his face with a flaunting
red bandana handkerchief, breathing heavily.
"Yes, you are, and a coward, who thought to frighten
me. Now I am about to frighten you."
"Huh!" Strange laughed scornfully. "There ain't
man, woman, or kid kin make mo sing small. Though
I don't deny," he added gracefully, "as you'd make Old
Nick squirm."
"Thanks, but I am rather tired of costermonger
compliments. Come to business. You accuse me of
being mixed up in a conspiracy?"
"Well, an' ain't it true?"
"As gospel, between ourselves. To the world it is
a lie."
"1 bet you can't prove 'tis so," sneered the sailor.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 377
"Proof is not required. Denial is."
"Not when I'm in th' witness-box."
"Not when you're in the dock, you mean, my good
man."
Her visitor grew purple. "Me—in th' dock I" he
thundered.
"Lower your voice, please, or I shall order my
servants to turn you out. Yes—in the dock, your
natural place. This conspiracy of yours."
"Engineered for your little game, mind," he gasped.
"Not at all. I have nothing to do with it"; her
hard eyes held him as he blankly considered her
astonishing impudence. "You tell me that Dr. Deme-
trius buried a man at Funchal in place of Mr. Garth,
and then, when Mr. Garth died on board your ship,
sent home his body as that of my husband. As Mr.
Garth and my husband resembled one another closely,
I can see how I and the family were mistaken when
we beheld the substituted corpse. But I do not under-
stand why my husband should have consented to this,
no more than I understand how you dare accuse me
of conspiring.'
"But I do, you bet, ma'am. You played low down
on a company."
"Where is your proof?"
"You've got the dollars."
She played a bold stroke. "Ignorant that the money
was paid under i'alse pretences. It shall be given
back."
Strange turned white and jumped up. "My share I"
he cried.
"I know nothing of your share. Apparently, Dr.
Demetrius, who happt ned to—to—er—admire me, kid


380 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
mind goin' nap on that, all things being on th' square.
Naow if"
"Wait! Wait, I tell yon!" She clasped her hands
across her forehead and paced the room with slow steps,
which did not betray the nervous hurry of her over-
wrought brain.
Strange watched her, as a naturalist might watch
an entirely new animal. Clever and hard as he was in
his bullying way, he felt instinctively that he had little
chance of getting the better of this woman, unless—as
he phrased it—he kept his tail up. "She's the dandiest
devil I ever sot eyes on," was his admiring verdict.
"Golly, wot a flyer! Huh!"
Lady Jim, twisting her hands distressfully, strolled
slowly up and down, with bent head and thoughtful
looks. At times she would halt and reflect deeply;
then her face would brighten as she resumed her
prowling. Sometimes she glanced at Strange, sitting
like a graven image in his chair, and occasionally she
peered into any near mirror ae if to seek inspiration
from her own wicked eyes. For ten minutes amidst
a petrifying silence she behaved thus; then, having
solved part of her problem—the solution of the other
part depended upon Strange's consent—she returned to
face him.
"Do you mind imprisonment?" she asked casually.
The sailor jumped. "Goin' t' begin agin?" he de-
manded irritably.
"Answer my question. Do you mind imprisonment?"
"I do an' I don't, accordin' to th' dollars. Give it a
name."
"Five thousand pounds."
"Twenty-five thousand, States currency," mused the


382 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Six!" he insisted.
So much was at stake that Leah yielded. She
could afford to do so, with fifty thousand a year in
prospect. "Six, then—to be paid when you leave
prison."
"Huh! An' when might that be?"
"How should I know 1" said Lady Jim, crossly, for
the strain on her nerves was great. "Ask some
lawyer."
"Blackmail an' conspiracy," murmured Strange, re-
flectively. "Sounds like a few years of oakum-pickin',
don't it? Not as I intend to give my opinion on
those British gaols. Sing-sing's good enough fur me."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Never you mind, ma'am. But if the dollars ain't
planked down"
"They will be. Can't you trust me, man?"
"I guess not. You're what I call a holy terror, an'
no mistake. Firming! iam, y' said—Firmingham." He
nodded. "I've nailed it."
"When will you go down?"
"Alter I've seen thet land-shark 'bout the kind of
poppy-cock th'bloomin' judge ull talk. Go slow, ma'am;
y' git along with your share, an' I'll do mine. So long!"
Leah did not like to grasp the tarry hand extended,
but out of diplomacy she was forced to touch the pitch
which was defiling her. "I can depend upon you,
Captain Strange."
He nodded. "Y1 kin let it go at thet. So long, agin.
An' if I'd married you," he added, with genuine
emotion, "cuss me if I wouldn't hev bin runnin' the
U.S.A. in th' Presidential Chair."
Leah digested this compliment at her leisure.


CHAPTER XXVIII
After that momentous interview Lady Jim realised
the truth of Strange's scriptural quotation, although he
had translated it into his own lax vernacular. Un-
fortunately, hearing it after the event, she could not
take Isaiah's advice, and had too hastily condemned
the fetish. She would have given much for the
recovery of that precise peacock's feather, for, having
freely thrown it away, it was doubtful to her super-
stitious mind if the luck would hold. Certainly she
had arranged judiciously for Jim's return to civilisation,
and the unscrupulous captain appeared willing to earn
wages as a scapegoat; but there was always the un-
foreseen to be reckoned with. A chance word, a chance
discovery, a too minute inquiry—these might wreck the
whole scheme, and she would reap a whirlwind, stormy
enough to sweep her out of a social paradise into the
bleak desert of Sinners-found-out. A most uncomfortable
locality.
She did what she could, poor woman, to propitiate
her Baal. A new peacock's feather was procured, and
she apologised for her want of faith. Also she ex-
perimented with the new symbol. Would a particular
costume arrive at a certain hour? Would some very
doubtful stock which she held turn honest? Would
Captain Strange, after consulting a lawyer, still hold
383


384 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
to his nefarious bargain? The test proved satisfactory,
for her Baal, apparently amenable to apology, worked
excellently through the new semblance of his deity.
The dress duly arrived within the fixed time; the
shares rose rapidly, and enabled her to sell at a profit
which she did not deserve; finally, a grubby note from
Strange assured her without detail that he was on his
way to Firmingham. It would seem that the prospect
of picking oakum for a livelihood appealed to him, at
the agreed price.
Pending the explosion of the mine to which Strange
was about to apply a match, Leah possessed her soul in
patience. Three days did she wait, and they were days
of purgatory. For obvious reasons she did not return
to Firmingham, but wrote to Lionel stating that she
had received a terrible shock—nature not mentioned—
and intended to consult the family solicitors about the
same. She thus made herself safe about the sailor's
visit, in case any one might wonder why he had come to
her in the first instance. And in the letter she told
the truth for once, since she paid a visit to Lincoln's
Inn Fields. An explanation of her errand startled the
suave head of a justly celebrated legal firm. On
recovering from pardonable amazement he gave his
client the full value of her six-and-eightpence.
"Kidnapping,'' explained Mr. Hall, to a tearful
listener—for Lady Jim thought that the circumstances
demanded emotion—" is not in itself a serious offence,
and really applies only to persons under f ourteen years of
age. In the case of an adult like Lord James this sailor
would be punished with—er—maybe two years' imprison-
ment. He might even be let off with a heavy fine."
Leah's face fell considerably. She would have to


386 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"The Duke must be warned," went on Mr. Hall.
"Who?" asked Leah, just as sharply as she had
asked Colley.
"The new Duke—I beg your pardon, for, of course,
if this story is true, Lord James is the Duke of
Pentland."
"You doubt the story, then?"
Hall raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "I
cannot give an opinion until I have seen this man and
sifted his statements." He paused and looked at her
inquiringly. "I presume, Lady James, that this man
closely resembles your husband 1"
"What man 1 Oh, Garth—yes. You may guess how
closely, when the late Duke, Lord Frith, and myself were
all deceived. Certainly the likeness was well known
in Firmingham. There were reasons," she added with
hesitation—" family reasons."
"Oh—er—quite so." Mr. Hall, who knew something
of the Adamite side of his late Grace, coughed away a
laugh. "I can see how the mistake arose, Lady James.
Natural enough—oh, dear me—natural enough."
"Why do you not give me my proper title?" she
asked haughtily.
"Pardon me, but the truth of this man's wild story
has yet to be proved. May I ask a few needful
questions?"
A wave of her hand signified that he might, find she
submitted to a tolerably stiff examination. Being pre-
pared with artless answers to every question, she
emerged triumphantly from the ordeal, and when in
possession of her facts, Mr. Hall subscribed to the
wickedness of Demetrius and Strange. "A pair of
villains, my dear lady. The one sinned for love and


388 LADY JIM OF CURZOIM STREET
the realm he would have "to purge and live cleanly,"
after the fashion of one Sir John Falstaff, Knight.
"We owe that much to society," thought Leah, virtu-
ously, and considered the rumoured doings of black
sheep who would be cast out of the Mayfair fold were
their housetops removed. That the shifting of the
Curzon Street mansion tiles might also be attended
with danger she did not pause to consider.
On the ensuing afternoon Askew arrived to say
farewell; but, as circumstances were too embarrassing
to permit of her taking any interest in other people's
affairs, she declined to see him. Nevertheless, he urged
a personal interview, on the plea that he would be
absent for months. She yielded very unwillingly, as
her nerves clamoured for some outward sign of emotion,
which by the rules of society she would be obliged to
suppress.
"I know I shall be horribly rude," murmured
Lady Jim, when the footman left the room to introduce
the visitor; "but he has brought it on himself "—which
excuse she considered ample for ensuing impoliteness.
Askew, with mistaken consideration, entered the
drawing-room almost on tiptoe, and proceeded forth-
with to condole with her in stage whispers. She soon
put a stop to this artificial sympathy. Further reference
to life beyond the grave she could not and would not
stand, as she told him crisply.
"Don't talk funeral, unless you wish to see me wreck
the room. I have had months of crying and crape and
condoling."
"But the sad circumstances"
"Are such that I did not wish to see you," she
retorted, finishing his sentences for Lim as usual, after


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 389
her old fashion. "I feel so scratchy that I declined
your visit out of sheer pity. But you would insist, so
don't blame me if I am disagreeable."
"You can never be disagreeable," said Askew,
soothingly.
"Can't I? You wait ten minutes and see.
"I think I had better go, Lady Jim."
"For your own sake, I think you had. Good-bye."
Askew still kept his seat. "I only wish to say that
I am very—very sorry for your terrible loss."
"Lady Frith's terrible loss, you mean. Go and see
her, if you want to play the hired mourner."
"Ah, poor Lady Frith"
"Now don't begin about her," snapped Leah, viciously.
"But you must be sorry"
"I am—for myself. I have been dosed with the
post-mortem virtues of those three Kaimes men until
I feel that only wicked people are truly agreeable. I
regret the Duke, who was a nice old sinner turned
saint, and I lament Lord Frith for his goodness and
sweetness of disposition—there."
MI never heard that Lord Frith had a sweet
disposition."
"He hadn't; but I'm only saying the kind of things
you expect me to say."
"Oh!" Askew looked shocked. "Have the—er—
bodies been found?"
"I don't think so; but you can ask the executors
who look after these things. Any more questions?"
"No; only I am sorry"
"You said that before. You are sorry, I am sorry,
we are sorry. I think that conjugation exhausts the
subject. Let us talk of your yacht, Mr. Askew."


390 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"She's all right," he murmured, confused. It was
difficult to comprehend this woman, who so lightly
dropped a family sorrow to take on a subject which he
knew interested her but little.
"And when do you sail?"
•'To-morrow or next day. I came to say good-bye."
"Oil!" said Leah, carelessly. "I fancied you came
to sympathise. Well"—she rose and extended her
hand—" good-bye."
Askew clasped her hand coldly, wondering how he
ever came to love so heartless a woman. As Jim was
returning in glory and had not seen Seiiorita Fajardo
since his reported death, Leah felt that she could safely
dismiss this boy, to go where he would. Besides, she
was beginning to find him a bore, lie took things much
too seriously, and was by no means so good-looking as
she had imagined. All the same, after the manner of
woman, who wants to have her pie and eat it, she by
no means approved of his readiness to depart.
"You don't seem to care much," she said reproach-
fully, and felt quite ill-used.
Askew coloured boyishly. "I am not broken-hearted,
certainly."
"I do not believe that you have a heart."
"You are right—it is at Eosario."
"Then I advise you to go after it, lest it should get
mixed up with other men's hearts."
"Lola is no flirt," cried Askew, loyally.
"Then she must be altogether too good for this
Torld. Good-bye! Bring Mrs. Askew to see me when
Iom return."
"I fear you would be bored with her," said he, soie
'd sarcastic.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 391
"Probably. Married women are not interesting,
except to people like you and Jim, who persistently
break the tenth commandment."
"I know one married woman who"
"Who has just said good-bye to you, and repeats
it," snapped Lady Jim, seeing he was about to be
rude.
"Oh, very well, then, good-bye," said Askew, going
out in a rage with her and with himself. And so they
parted.
Leah returned smiling to her seat, delighted that
she made him lose his temper, as by doing so she
had recovered her own. It was so satisfactory to a
deserted woman to think that a man whose love had
cooled should go away uncomfortable. "And what a
mercy he is gone," said Lady Jim, settling to read
fashions. "I hope he'll stop in America with that
Lola creature for the rest of his silly life. I suppose
he won't turn over this page of his book of life, but
tear it out." And in this she was perfectly right. He
did.
Towards five o'clock Lionel arrived. Although she
had no intimation of his coming, she quite expected to
see him, and was prepared to make any necessary scene.
The young clergyman looked white and excited, entering
the room so rapidly that the footman had hardly time
to announce the title that he was losing.
Lady Jim, recognising a crisis, came forward rapidly
with studied emotion. "You know all—all," she said
in a choking voice, and caught his hands.
He was taken aback. "Yes, if you mean that your
husband lives."
"It is true, then—it is true"; she tottered to thu


39^ LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
sofa, and cast herself down with passionate emotion.
"Say that it is true!"
"I think so. But how do you know %"
Leah sat up with a puzzled look. "Did you not
get my letter saying that I had had a shock, and in-
tended to consult Mr. Hall?"
"Yes; but you did not explain."
"I could not, seeing the position it places you in."
"Never mind me. If Jim is alive, he takes the
title. So this man came to you."
"He did, and tried to extort money. Because I
refused he hinted that he would buy your silence.
I never thought that he would dare to go to Firming-
ham; but when you entered, a look told me all. But
can you believe this story—it seems incredible?"
"The police do not think so," said Lionel, grimly.
Lady Jim dropped on to the sofa again. "The
police!"
"Of course. This scoundrel came to Firmingham,
and said that if I gave him three thousand pounds
he would keep Jim away from England so that I could
enjoy the title. I learned the truth about this con-
spiracy of Dr. Demetrius, and then had Captain Strange
arrested. To-day a policeman brought him to London.
He is in prison."
"Serve him right, the brute. Did he not tell you
how he threatened me?"
"No; I never guessed that he had come to you."
"But he did, and said that if I gave him two
thousand pounds he would bring Jim back. Failing me,
he tried you at a higher price. I should have had
him arrested, Mr. Hall says, but I could not. I was
bewildered —quite bewildered. It seems incredible. Oh,


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 395
Lionel,"—she laid her hand imploringly on his sleeve—
"surely Demetrius did not behave so vilely!"
"I fear that he did. The man, as every one in
London knows, was madly in love with you."
"I never encouraged him—really I didn't."
"No," said Lionel, bluntly. "I do not think he was
rich enough for you to encourage."
"How can you think so badly of me?"
"Because you are all self—you admitted that long
ago. To do you justice, I think you were a good wife
to Jim."
"I am a good wife. Don't make me out to be the
widow I am not. Of course, this story must be false,"
she ended, helplessly.
"I think not—it is too circumstantial. And more-
over, this man, who appears to be illiterate, could not
invent such a tale. Plainly the Russian, who seemed
to be clover, conspired to get rid of Jim, so that you
might be induced to marry him."
"As though I would ever do such a thing! I told
you at Firmingham that I had no intention of marry-
ing. I daresay Jim and I will come together again,
and be very happy."
"I hope so—I trust so," said Lionel, with solemn
emphasis. "Remember, God is giving you another
chance."
"I made very good use of the last one," she retorted
sullenly. "Jim was always to blame, and not I. I
suppose this insurance money will have to be given
back."
"Certainly. You can hardly complain of that, seeing
the income you will now receive."
"Jim will, you mean. I expect he'll turn out a


394 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
screw now that he is rich. Your spendthrifts are
always old misers. And I don't see why you should
be nasty. I'm sure I have had a miserable time."
"You will have a happy one now," he said, re-
lenting.
"With Jim ?" she cried derisively. "How optimistic
you are!"
"Surely I have a right to be, when God is so good
to you."
"God," she echoed, vaguely, and thinking of the
obliging fetish. "Oh yes, of course. I'm awfully thank-
ful. The insurance money would not have lasted for
ever, and I might not have found so manageable a
husband as Jim. Things will be jolly now."
Lionel groaned. "Is that as high as you can rise?"
he asked, rebukingly.
"Oh, Lord, what do you want me to say?" cried
Leah, with the causeless anger of the overwrought.
"I can't think of pious proverbs when I am like this.
What with supposed deaths and real deaths, and
nothing but funerals to amuse one, I don't know if
I am on my head or my heels. There, that's vulgar,
and you needn't look disgusted if it is. I feel vulgar.
I could run out and howl up and down Curzon Street
like a Whitechapel woman in a tantrum. And if
you preach,—if you—you Oh, what fools men are!"
She choked, rolled in her chair, ripped a handkerchief,
and kicked away a foot-stool.
The curate—as he was once more—saw how she
tried to fight down the hysteria, and wisely refrained
from speech. A single word might cause the primitive
emotions to burst with volcanic force throiigh the
imposed customs of civilisation. Considering the joyful


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 395
news of Jim Kaimes' resurrection and the trouble of
the attempted blackmail, it was natural that she
should suddenly betray feminine weakness. She was
but a woman when all was said and done. Leah
would have repudiated this conclusion with scorn, as
she had small regard for her sex; but a woman she
was at the moment, unstrung, foolish, wild with dread
that the unforeseen might happen. Lionel moved
silently to the door. In a moment; she was at his
side, reaching him with the bound of a pantheress.
"Don't be angry," she panted, laying her hand on
his arm; "but you do worry me so, and if you knew
—if you really knew "She gasped and bit her lip,
to prevent an unguarded tongue blurting out the whole.
"There, there!" He patted her hand, and she could
have slapped him for the caress, which revealed his
knowledge of her weakness. "It's all right—all right.
Be calm! There, there!"
"Oh, Lord, what tact!" and so disgusted was she
with the stupidity of the man that her nerves relaxed
"I say, Lionel," with an artificial laugh, "aren't you
sorry for yourself?"
"Not in the least," he replied promptly. "I am
no Jacob to usurp the heritage of Esau. High or low,
we can all serve God in our degrees. Ask Jim to
make me vicar of Firmingham."
"I will, if you promise not to preach."
"How would you have me earn my salary, then?"
he asked humorously, and glad that she appeared more
composed. "Now I advise you to lie down."
"Yes," she assented submissively; "I will lie down.
And you?"
"I go at once to see Mr. Hall, about getting Jim


396 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
set fre«. Good-bye, Duchess "; and in a moment he was
gone, anxious to escape further irresponsible speech.
"Duchess I" echoed Leah, staring at the closed door.
"Duchess!"
It was all right then, so far as Lionel was concerned,
seeing that he gave her the title which Mr. Hall
withheld. He at least believed in the wonderful story
of Strange. With Lionel on her side things would be
bound to come out all right. Still, although the trees
were thinning, she was not yet out of the wood. The
green light of safety had not yet been substituted for
the red danger signal.
"I am aching all over," said Leah, addressing her
reflection in the mirror; "there's a twist of nerves
between my eyes, and I could scream the house down.
But I shan't!" She flung away from the glass, gripping
her courage with both hands. "I'll be calm, and easy
in my mind, till Jim comes back. When the worst
is over, I shall collapse—I know I shall. Till then—
till then—Oh, God"—the weakness she declined to
recognise broke forth in prayer—" give me grit and
pluck to fight through to the end."
So she prayed, but not to the fetish. In this up-
lifted moment Leah felt that Lionel's Deity was not a
myth, but a terrible reality.


CHAPTER XXIX
Then did "Rumour, painted full of tongues," enter
into Lady Jim's strictly private life and depart with
half-truths for the bewildering of gossips. In some
marvellous way the news leaked out, as news will,
despite careful caulking of the human vessels con-
taining it. Lord James Kaimes, ran the babble, had
been kidnapped by his medical attendant, who, sub-
stituting an illegal corpse for that of the husband he
wished to supplant, had plotted to secure the wife.
This was the tune, correct enough; then came its
variations. The hurdy-gurdy of society ground out
wonderful twiddles and twists of false notes, distorting
the original theme into a melody Leah herself would
not have recognised. Not that she heard any of the
fioritura. Prudence counselled a retreat to Firmingham
pending the home-coming of Jim, and thither, very
wisely, she went. At this crisis of her fortunes Lady
Jim felt that she required the countenance of all truly
respectable people, however dull, and therefore sheltered
like a maltreated chick under Hilda Frith's wing. To
console the widowed and orphaned was her obvious
excuse,—so obvious, indeed, that she declined to Make
it. Thus did she escape questions about the one
engrossing topic of drawing- com, club, and public-
house bar.
397


393 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Every one, from the lowest to the highest) talked ex-
haustively, and the newspapers, cheap and costly, printed
scandal with alluring recklessness. Out of London E.C.
issued halfpenny journals with lurid headings over
incomplete histories of the plot, invented on unsound
premises. These transparent fictions began with the
Itussian's snake-in-tlie-grass intrusion into the happy
home of an attached couple, and ended with a political
cry for the exclusion of such immoral aliens from the
Island of the Blest, which is England. The more
expensive small-beer chronicles refused to believe that
so fantastic an occurrence could have happened in these
enlightened days of police-courts and publicity; but,
nevertheless, supplied middle-class breakfast-tables with
equally doubtful data, out of which to weave romances
of the minor peerage. "The triangle of Dumas the
younger," cried one scribe, with a fine disregard for
meaning and metaphor, "must never be sounded in our
dear Motherland!" A sufficient sample this of the
stuff supplied. But, since the silly season prevailed when
reporters, one and all, were credited with March-hare
madness, such incongruities were pardoned, and the
public gaped to swallow full-sized camels.
The clubs buzzed like hives at swarming time, for
their members wondered at Jim's adventure; wondered,
also, how "so knowing a Johnny "—so they put it—
"could allow himself to be diddled by a measly little
foreign beast." All were agog for the hero's appear-
ance, and curious friends thirsted for a first-hand
account of the enforced Odyssey. Many speculated as
to the probability of Jim being sobered by untoward
expedience into becoming a truly respectable Duke, and
a few made original observations anent a much-quoted


40O LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Street house. Also, she was so lucky at bridge that
she assuredly must cheat, and it showed what a black-
leg she was, that no one had ever caught her cheating.
Then her dresses were ridiculous for a woman with her
poor husband's income. She had ruined him completely
—that was why he ran away, in a dying condition.
And the money had not gone to discharge lawful debts;
she never paid anything, therefore she must have spent
the cash on some secret vice, which she certainly must
have, since she always posed as being so very correct.
She ought to be cut; she ought to be in gaol; whipping
was too good for her; put her in a pillory and throw
stones at her. And let such a creature be anathema
maranatha for ever and ever and ever, Amen.
But for all this throwing of stones by ladies who
were without sin, Leah had her supporters in some,
who must have been wicked, since they declined to
condemn her wholesale on hearsay evidence. These
pointed out that she had behaved admirably, when
Jim's supposed death had been reported. The late
Marquis of Frith was himself deceived by the likeness
of the corpse to his brother, though of course there
were family reasons for such a likeness. Also, the old
Duke had paid the Curzon Street debts, which so good
a man would not have done had they been of a ques-
tionable character. And the very respectable Hengists,
kind things, spoke highly of Lady Jim's patience under
trying domestic difficulties caused by an unfaithful
husband. Besides, Leah—poor, dear, persecuted woman
—was now the Duchess of Pentland, and could do no
wrong. She was a misunderstood angel. Hilda Frith
doted on her, and every one knew how very, very
particular Hilda Frith was. To decry a woman who


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 401
had suffered so much, and who had so nobly borne
suffering, was a crime—worse, was a blunder, se ii.g
that the latest Duchess would assuredly sway society,
to bless or damn at her good pleasure. The peerage—
the immaculate peerage of Great Britain and Ireland
—would stand or fall by Leah Pentland, as a perfect
example of what a titled woman should be.
In this way raged the war of tongues, while Lionel,
in Mr. Hall's company, and with the assistance of
Scotland Yard officials, sought for the missing prodigal.
Strange, playing the game with characteristic stub-
bornness, refused to indicate the whereabouts of his
victim's floating prison, and, as the Stormy Petrel
under a new coat of paint, with readjusted rigging
and bearing a prettier but unknown name, could not
be found in any shipping list, there appeared little
prospect of finding the kidnapped. The telegraph
wires sizzled in the air and under the sea, with
messages to home and foreign ports; bills with Jim's
portrait and a most flattering description were scattered
broadcast; a reward large enough to tempt Mammon
himself was offered in every journal, and in many
languages; and the journals themselves denounced
the police authorities—who were merely mortal, poor
scapegoats—for not producing a mislaid nobleman in
five minutes. It was an enjoyable time for arm-chair
critics, who, on insudicient evidence, knew exactly what
should be done, and blamed the police, confronted with
hard facts, for not doing it.
As to the culprit, he might have been Nero, Judas
Iscariot, and Captain Dreyfus rolled into one, froni the
obliquity which was heaped upon him. Since he
refused to produce his prisoner, inquisitive people were
26


402 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
frantic with annoyance. One enthusiast even suggested
that torture should be used to make him speak; another
considered that so recalcitrant a brute should be starved
into submission; a third that he should be offered a
free pardon on condition that he sent back a regretted
Duke to his lonely wife. But Strange, chuckling over
the storm he had raised, hugged his secret close. Hall,
the ducal lawyer, knew what his terms were, and if Hall
did not choose to accede he would have to remain with-
out an aristocratic client.
Hall, however, had no notion of losing the money
with which the accession of Lord James Kaimes to a
wealthy title would probably fill his pockets. Still,
Strango's terms were too preposterous to consider
for one moment. He had to consider them for a
fortnight, all the same, and finding that they did
not vary, he came down to consult Lady Jim, after a
lengthy interview with the Rev. Lionel Kaimes at
Lambeth.
Even though Jim had risen from the dead, Leah had
not laid aside her mourning. Indeed, she added fresh
crape to show her grief for the recent deaths, and
greeted the lawyer with the air of one to whom life
is a burden. And so it was to her, at the moment.
The funereal atmosphere of the great house, the delicacy
of her position until Jim returned to tell her that all
was safe, and the constant boredom of listening to Hilda's
wordy lamentations—these things wore her out, and
Mr. Hall noted that she looked fatigued.
"Natural, very natural," thought Mr. Hall, unfortu-
nately aloud.
"What <s natural 1" asked Leah, seeing his eyes on
her.


LADY JIM OF CUKZON STREET 403
The man's parchment cheeks reddened. "I beg your
pardon, Duchess. I did not intend to speak aloud;
a trick of mine, when I am interested. Bad habit—bad
habit. I was thinking that you looked weary—natural,
very natural."
"Weary!" Leah placed her elbows on the table
which stood between th^m. "I tell you what, Mr. Hall:
unless you bring my husband back soon, I shall take
to drink."
"My—dear—Duchess."
"Well, and don't men take to drink when they are
worried? What better can a poor woman do than
imitate the lords of creation? You are so inconsistent.
What about my particular lord? Has that beast spoken
out?"
"No. He refuses to speak save on his own terms,
which are, I may say, preposterous—extremely so."
Leah thought of the price to be paid foi the imprison-
ment Strange was now undergoing, and smiled dryly.
"He is the kind of man who would ask for the sun—
and get it," she added, as an afterthought.
"Whether he gets it is for you to determine,
Duchess."
"Oh!" She looked at him sharply. "Am I to
arbitrate?"
"Quite so—quite so. A very well-chosen word—
arbitrate." He chuckled heartily, and adjusted his
pince-nez.
"And the joke, Mr. Hall?"
"It might almost be one, Duchess, so preposterous is
the demand of this man. He refuses to reveal the
whereabouts of his Grace, unless—prepare yourself for a
surprise—unless he is set free. Now then, Duchess "—


404 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Mr. Hall threw himself back in his chair, and flung
open his frock-coat—" is that not pre—pos—ter—ous?"
"I can't see it myself," replied Leah, coolly. "He
seems to be a very sensible man.''
"But—but—he ought to be punished."
"I fear he would not agree wiih yuu there. Is this
what you have come to see me nbout?"
"Yes. All attempts to find the Duke have been
made in vain: the resources of civilisation are ex-
hausted. Only one thing remains—to accede to the
prisoner's terms. I saw the Reverend Lionel Kaimes,
and he agrees not to prosecute. Now I come to
you"
"To ask me not to prosecute?"
"Exactly—exactly. The man attempted to black-
mail you and the Reverend Mr. Kaimes. If neither one
of you will prosecute, the magistrate will be obliged
to dismiss the case for want of evidence. And
then"
"Then Captain Strange—that is his name, isn't
it?—will send Jim back."
"I question it—I question it. Once free, he may
again attempt to blackmail—that is, he may refuse to
surrender his prisoner without money being paid."
"I do not agree with you," said Leah, mendaciously.
"The man has had a fright, and will not trust himself
again into the lion's mouth. Besides, even if he did
try to blackmail, we could refuse, and he can't keep
my husband for ever on board his dirty little boat. A
prisoner who cannot be ransomed would be expensive
to keep. Jim has an enormous appetite."
Hall smiled at the aristocratic jest. "True—true;
you put the case concisely—very concisely, I may


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 405
say. The question is, whether it is right to set the
man free, and trust to an honour which I fear he does
not possess."
Leah thought for a few minutes, playing her part
to perfection. "It appears that Captain Strange, very
wisely, will not open his mouth so long as he is shut
up. If set free he promises to be amenable to reason.
Of two evils I choose the least, as Mr. Kaimes has
done."
"That means you will not prosecute?"
"Yes. Let the man go, and probably my husband
will arrive within the week. How can it be done?"
"Yery easily. To-morrow, or the next day, Strange
can be brought before the magistrate; but as neither
you nor Mr. Kaimes will appear, the charge will be
dismissed."
"And then?"
"Then, my dear Duchess, he will vanish into the
world, and we shall have to trust to the honour of an
admitted blackmailer. It is really a terrible dilemma,"
cried the lawyer, dismally, "and forms such an evil
precedent—oh, a most deadly blow at justice, I assure
you."
"Not at all," contradicted Leah, coolly; "we can say
that Captain Strange turned King's evidence."
"But, my dear Duchess"
"What's the use of talking ?" she snapped impolitely.
"I have told you what to do. Go and do it."
"Really"
"Pardon me if I am rude, but I am not fit to
talk "; and she hurried out of the room, glad that she
had settled the matter thus. Hall departed to London,
reflecting that the rudeness of the Duchess was quite


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 407
was determined not to ransom Jim at any greater sum
than that she had already agreed to. The newspapers
were filled with astonished paragraphs about the in-
explicable conduct of the authorities in connection with
Strange's acquittal, and some kind friend sent the most
spiteful of these to the waiting wife. Leah did not
read the opinions of cranks set forth in inferior English
and was much more taken up with a letter from Katinka
Aksakoff. It was not easy to answer such a letter,
yet she would be compelled to reply.
Mademoiselle Aksakoff wrote indignantly, saying that
she did not believe the statements of the papers con-
cerning the conspiracy of Constantine Demetrius. She
denied that such a noble man would act in so base a
way, and reminded Leah of their conversation on the
terrace at Monte Carlo. "You then said that you did
not love him," complained the letter, "and insisted that
he did not love you. But if he kidnapped your husband,
so that you might be free to marry him, he must love
you and you have lied. But I cannot believe that you
would break my heart in this way, nor can I credit so
honourable a man with such conduct." Katinka then
went on to say that Demetrius had not been seen since
he crossed to Paris. Where was he? Did Lady Jim
know? If so, let her tell the writer, or else—then the
epistle ended with a vague threat about hunting out
Demetrius and learning the truth. "And when I do,"
ran the final line, "your conscience will tell you if we
are to be friends or foes." This challenge—as it truly
was—came from Paris, where Katinka was stopping at
the Russian Embassy. It had been registered, to ensure
delivery.
A most unpleasant letter. Leah felt inclined to tear


408 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
it up, but some instifict told her that Katinka Aksakoff
was a persistent girl, with much obstinacy in her
character. If no reply came she would probably hasten
to Firmingham for an interview, and Lady Jim did not
care about having the second honeymoon of herself and
her restored husband spoilt by the scene which would
surely take place. After destroying several sheets of
note-paper she produced a concise reply, saying as little
as ever she could. Nevertheless, she was forced to say
much she would have preferred left unsaid. Captain
Strange, said Lady Jim's reply, declared that
Demetrius had so conspired. But he had been set free
and had disappeared. What he said might be true, or
might not. Nothing could be known for certain unless
Lord James returned, and up to the date of the letter
he had not put in an appearance. Demetrius certainly
had come to Paris—not to see the writer, but to interview
M. Aksakoff about a possible pardon. At the Henri
Trois Hotel the doctor had been seized with a fit, and
a Dr. Helfmann had taken charge of him. "Since
then," wrote Lady Jim, "I have not seen him. How-
ever, I enclose a letter which he sent me on the day
I left Paris. It would seem that he has gone to
Russia."
"And I hope Katinka will follow him there," aaid
Leah, after adding a few Judas words of endearment.
"Aksakoff might keep her on his Volga estate. She'll
only make mischief if she comes to England. I'll warn
her father of that"; and she did. for M. Aksakoff received
a letter, which hinted that his daughter might prove
to be a possible fire-brand. And so the matter, for the
time being, ended.
But Jim had not yet arrived. Seven days passed,


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 409
and the eighth night since the buccaneer's release
closed in. Leah felt the strain terribly, and hardly
ate or slept. Hilda did what she could to cheer her
up, but, not knowing the whole truth, could do very
little. Lady Jim declined to take drugs, as her last
experience of these had shown her how they aged
people, though that might have been her fancy. All
she could do, and did do, was to keep a tight rein on
her emotions, and beyond looking pale, and a trifle
haggard, no one could have told that she was in any
way disturbed. Joan was a great comfort to her in
those days of strain, and so was Lionel, with his
prophecies that all would yet be well. But Leah had
no one to whom she could tell the whole shocking truth,
and it was desperately trying to a woman, whosa
nervous system was almost wrecked, to hold her tongue.
These still waters were running very deep.
She found a certain relief in motion, and while
Hilda wept and wailed that the bodies of her dear
husband and his father had never been cast ashore for
Christian burial, Leah's motor-car tore round the country
through storm and sunshine. She would not even take
a chauffeur, but engineered the machine herself.
Providence, or the fetish that stood to her in place
of it, watched over her escapades. She met with no
accident, not even the most trivial, although in her
reckless driving she did her best to reduce the car
to match-wood. Like a witch on a broomstick she
flew round the country, frantic and insistent, as though
she sought the enjoyment of some wizard Sabbath.
The motor flung mile after mile behind, with a buzz
and a hum, and the speed of a destroyer buffeting a
rough sea. Leah, with her hand on the levers, swooped


410 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
down narrow lanes, spun furiously along the King's
highway, crashed through scared villages, and raced
the setting sun to the verge of the astonished lands,
It was the extreme danger of these flights which
delighted and strengthened her; and if she had a large
hill to pay for breaking every known law in the county
policemen's note-books, it was easy for the Duchess of
Pentland to pay for such frolics. The thrill, the
dash, the knowledge of power, the governance of a
flying bomb-shell—these things were worth double,
treble, quadruple the money. She was inebriated
with danger, exalted by the constant nearness of death,
and, like a she-Satan, defiantly self-sufficient, scorned
both God and man. Of woman, needless to say, she
took no account whatsoever.
Then came one memorable night, riotously wild with
wind and rain. With gleaming lamps, at top speed,
facing the wrath of conflicting elements battling under
a stormy sky, she drove her machine roaring up the
avenue. A quick turn of the hand and she stayed it,
fuming and whirring like a live thing, before the
porch. Contrary to custom, the door was open.
Against the light she saw Lionel, and in a moment
guessed the inevitable. Leaving the chauffeur to attend
to the monster, this Mrs. Frankenstein sprang up the
steps and dragged Lionel under the glare of the electric
lamp. A look into his face redoubled the beat of her
heart. There, sure enough, she saw what she expected
to see.
"Take me to him," she breathed, still retaining her
grip on his arm.
u But are you quite prepared? He is in the library,
and"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 411
Leah flung the curate away so forcibly that he
staggered against the wall. She was out of the hall,
she was at the library door, she was in the library
itself, and all in two quick-drawn breaths.
"Hulloa, Leah," said a well-known voice, in a well-
known manner.
She did not answer, but stared with a bloodless face,
possessed entirely by the devil of hysteria. Then she
dropped, without a cry or a word. Like a blood-mare,
she had held out to the winning-post, and thus paid
the price of victory.


414 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREE
"You give me no chance," said her husband, bittet
"Every time we have a row you mention things tha
I needn't be mentioned. And after all, Leah, you gov
me back for your own convenience."
"I am not so sure of that. I wish now that I had
kept the thirty thousand which we had to pay back,
and had let you remain where you were."
"On board Strange's odd-job steamer? It wasn't
so bad, though I was chained by the leg. I learnt a
lot about engines there; used to watch 'em when she
was bumping through hurricanes. They were triple
expansion, too. It was fun to watch the old Scotch
engineer with his hand on the throttle-valve, and
hear him curse when the screw leaped sky-high to
race like a motor. I've had worse times—much
worse."
He spoke with more animation than usual, and Leah
sympathised with his enthusiasm. She also would have
enjoyed herself on a rotten hulk with doubtful engines
and an hourly chance of going down into the great
green seas; the excitement would have been intense,
and the death a clean one. Perhaps Jim had forgotten
the softer emotions of man when the tramp stormed
north with every rivet in her hull straining for dis-
persion. She wondered. "I suppose you missed
Senorita Fajardo then?"
"No; curiously enough, I didn't. There was too
much fun in thinkin' what would come next to bother
about her. I'm a bit of a philosopher, Leah, an' when
I can't get cake I chew bread. Now I've got the cake
I'm enjoyin' it."
"And eating too much of it. Look how stout you
are getting."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 415
"Respectable men always get stout when they grow
old."
"You are not old."
"I'm a bit elderly. Somehow I don't enjoy larks
so much as I used to," mused Jim, thoughtfully—" sign
of age, I suppose. But I daresay I'll get some sort
of fun out of life, an' maybe will need old Jarvey
Peel's money at sixty. It'll be more than thirty
thousand by then."
"Less the six thousand you paid Strange," said his
Duchess, cruelly.
Jim winced. "Bit of a pull, that—hey! Nice fancy
price I've had to pay for your fun, Leah."
"It was to bring you back."
"To make you a Duchess, you mean."
"One would think you were middle class to hear
you talk of titles in that respectful way. Who bothers
about such things nowadays? I have been bored to
death since Strange's blackmail turned you into a
pauper Duke."
Her husband made a grimace at this very plain
speaking. "I wish you wouldn't talk like that, Leah.
Hang it, I thought you really loved me when you
fainted on my return."
"All acting, my good man," she assured him, annoyed
by his recalling that twelve-month-old weakness. "I
had to impress the family somehow."
"Then you don't love me?" said Jim, slowly.
"What a question to ask after nearly seven years
of married life."
"But I'm respectable now," urged Jim, setting forth
the contents of the new page he had turned over. "I
don't race or bet overmuch, an' never look at a pretty


416 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
woman. I go to church, an' sit in the Lords, an' take
the chair at charity dinners, an'"
"You do that last because you love eating. All the
charity funds are spent on the victuals, and the poor
get about a penny in the collected pounds. Oh, you
are quite a model, Jim, and so dull."
This is but a sample of the few conversations the
ducal p»ir allowed themselves, for thoy did not fore-
gather with any enthusiasm. For propriety's sake the
Duke and Duchess of Pentland wi-ru seen together at
the few functions they could attend during the months
of mourning; their home life wa< outwardly harmonious,
and the crying down of a grass-widow which had been
heard during those weeks of suspense following Strange's
arrest had changed to crying up, when it was seen
how very correctly the new Duchess behaved. There-
fore they saw one another only officially, save on rare
occasions. Leah found Jim dull, as she had frankly
told him, and he wined always at his wife's tongue,
which had lost none of its cutting power. Even his
stupid brain grasped the fact that she was changed,
though in what way he could not exactly say. She
was certainly restless, and his bovine contentment with
things-as-they-are could not understand this phase.
Also she was dissatisfied, although she had secured all
she had wanted by almost a miracle.
"Rum creatures, women," soliloquised the philosopher,
sauntering to his club. "If you gave 'em the solar
system to play with they'd howl for the universe,"
which was a high flight for Jim to take in the way
of metaphor.
Leah sometimes thought that the long period of
mourning might have darkened her outlook on life,


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 417
She and Jim were forced by a ridiculously particular
world to live qui; tly, and she could not indulge herself
to the full. A constant succession of black dresses
palled on one fond of colours, and custom forbade her
filling the various ducal residences with amusing people,
who in any case were almost impossible to find. Then,
as Leah stated, they were really poor, considering the
title. What with regiments of servants and the stately
mansions which housed them, the horses and carriages,
and motors, and rents and taxes, and unnecessary
personal expenditure, and equally unnecessary charities,
it was truly difficult to make two aristocratic enda
meet. The Duchess of Pentland had to contrive and
arrange almost as much as had Lady Jim. From two
thousand a year to twenty-five times that amount
seems a large jump, but the title nullified the value
of the estates. Leah ardently prayed that the fetish
would increase the incoming and decrease the outgoing,
but her Baal seemed to think that it had done enough,
even for so devout a woman. "Am I never going to
have a good time?" wailed Leah. Later she found
that the wail was unnecessary, for the fetish pitied
his worshipper and granted her prayer. Coal of the
best quality was found on a Welsh property of the
Kaimes family, and Hall prophesied that in a year
or two the ducal income would be doubled. Leah took
heart at this sign of grace, as one really could manage
pretty well on one hundred thousand a year. But a
pound a minute was Leah's idea of a moderate income,
and then she would have grumbled that each hour
only brought her in sixty sovereigns. However, she
decided to spend what she had and what was coming
along from the coal to the last farthing, and arranged
*1


4i8 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
when the year of sorrow was ended—as it now was—
to take her place in the very gayest of society. She
would be presented again this season according to
custom, and then would see about exhausting the most
advanced pleasures of a civilisation that could not do
enough for one of her greedy appetite. This she told
to Lady Canvey.
"That is a mistake," rejoined the sagacious octo-
genarian, who was a year older in body and a year
younger in brain. "If you exhaust everything in this
world, nothing will be left for you but to try the next.
And I don't think you are quite prepared for that,
my dear."
"Perhaps not. I never set up for being a saint."
"No. That is a pleasure you have not yet exhausted.
Why not try it?"
"Because I am no hypocrite. What is the use of
pretending to be goody-goody, when you are not?"
"Saints are holy, not goody-goody."
"It's the same thing."
"It might be with you, certainly. But you are not
the sort to be canonised."
"Well, I don't know. A sinner is the raw material
out of which a saint is manufactured. You can't be
really good, unless you have been really very bad."
"That is useful information," said Lady Canvey,
dryly; "and very encouraging to people like yourself.
You might make an attempt at being Saint Leah or
Saint Jezebel."
"Lady Canvey!"
"Oh," the old dame chuckled, "then you do know
something of Scripture."
"Yes, but I don't quote it to annoy other people."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 419
"Your tongue is quite clever enough to do without
such aid, my dear. And don't lose your temper—I am
only talking for your good."
"Disagreeable conversations are always prefaced by
that remark. Yes?"
"I was thinking you might begin on your saintly
career by endowing a church with this coal money.
They build churches very cheap nowadays. You can
have one of red brick, and"
"There are too many churches, and too few wor-
shippers," interrupted the Duchess, with a shrug;
"besides, I propose to endow myself with the coal money.
I daresay I shall give fifty pounds or so to Lionel for
his paupers."
"You must not ruin yourself, my dear, "said Lady
Canvey, with affectionate spite. "I thought that Lionel,
as a married man, and the Vicar of Firmingham, had
nothing to do with paupers. There are none in the
parish there—at least, there were none in Pentland's
time," she ended with emphasis.
"I suppose you mean to hint that Jim is stopping
his charities and putting on the screw. Don't distress
yourself, godmother; everything is as it was, save that
our tenants and villagers are more gorged and much
more impudent. Lionel doesn't appreciate the godliness
of his heritage, because his parishioners pay their rents
regularly and come to church without the whip. They
are so pious that his occupation is gone."
That would not suit an energetic Christian like
Lionel."
"It doesn't. He and Joan take pleasure trips into
the Lambeth slums and ask seedy ruffians to stay with
them in the country. What with converted burglars


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 421
mud. He just looks as though he were made of sticky,
clayey, stodgy mud."
"It is not original to abuse your husband."
"I know that; but you are too old-fashioned to
admire originality."
Lady Canvey thumped with her stick vigorously.
"Do not be so desperately sharp, Leah; you make
my head ache. By the way, I have news for you about
that nice boy you treated so badly."
"I have treated so many nice boys badly. Billy
Richardson, Algy Turner, Harry Askew"
"The last. He is to be married."
"I knew that a year ago. He left bef ore Jim came
home to make some Spanish creature his wife."
"Miss Mamie Mulrady does not sound like a Spanish
name."
"That girll You don't say so?" Leah looked
genuinely surprised. "I suppose Senorita Fajardo
would not have him. Perhaps she is waiting for Mr.
Berring."
"Who is he?"
"Oh—er—a friend of mine "; she put up her muff
to hide a smile.
"I know that U.S.A. heiress —a nice girl if she did
not affect the Wild West of which she knows absolutely
nothing. No doubt she thinks it chic to let Europeans
hear the American eagle scream in the vernacular.
Fancy !—and to Askew! A good match for him. I
suppose he will call pounds, shillings and pence
collectively dollars now that he is brother to George
Washington."
"I don't think so. Mrs. Askew will probably be
more English than the English."


422 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Sho might easily be that, since the English are
mostly aliens nowadays. Well, I must go. Good-bye.
I have enjoyed my hour. I always do with you, god-
mother. Such a clever tongue!"
"I am not leaving you any money, my dear."
"Please don't. Your grandson is finding that opera-
dancer expensive. Give Canvey your savings, and his
lady-love will dance professionally on your grave."
"I am glad cats don't talk," said the old woman,
addressing no one in particular. "One is quite enough."
"Ah, they do talk then," laughed Leah, and having
got the last word slipped away before Lady Canvey
could rally her forces.
The Duchess, well wrapped up in expensive furs,
stepped into the crisp air, thinking of Askew and his
triple dip into the matrimonial lucky-bag. Lola
Fajardo, Marjory the fixture, and Mamie Mulrady, not
to speak of herself, whom he would have married had
she cared to call herself by his unpretentious name.
Certainly he was a man unfettered by prejudices in
love affairs. Dark or fair, tall or short, and of any
nationality, he adored them all in an entirely re-
spectable fashion which included a ring and a person.
"Though I don't believe the silly boy knows what
love is," thought Leah, passing into Piccadilly—she
was walking for exercise towards the Park; "but
people of that ignorant sort always seem to land on
their feet, like the cats Lady Canvey spoke of. I have
landed very comfortably myself. I wonder why I can't
love any one. How is it that no man can stir me into
experience of the grand passion?"
Lately Leah had taken to analysing herself with
fatal results. It seemed to her that she was shallow,


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 423
since nothing in the world made any difference to her,
or could make her feel. If Jim had dropped dead of
the apoplectic fit which was waiting for him, she would
merely have shrugged her shoulders; had the old Duke
come back to claim the title, she would have had small
regret in surrendering it. Everything seemed trivial
and dull and vulgar. A remark made by Lionel
occurred vividly to her at this moment. "You will
never be truly happy," he had said, "until you are
truly sorrowful." It was an unintentional epigram on
the vicar's part, as he was dense, like all the Kaimes
family; but it was clever enough to be true. Only—
and here was the hopelessness of her life—she saw
no chance of becoming sorrowful in any degree, since
her indifference nullified deep feelings of any sort.
"I suppose I shall have to run in this society circus
till I die," she thought drearily. "What a clown's
destiny!"
The mention of one lover naturally recalled the name
of another, and by the time she passed Apsley House
thoughts of Demetrius were running in her head. Not
a word had she heard of him since his enforced journey
to Siberia, via Paris, Havre, and Cronstadt. Katinka
Aksakoff might have supplied information, only that
Katinka, for reasons which Leah guessed rather than
knew, had disappeared some nine months ago. Accord-
ing to M. Aksakoff, she was ruralising on his Volga
estates, and her health forbade an exciting life. The
Duchess did not quite believe this smooth explanation;
and yet, at times, she fancied that the diplomatist might
have taken her advice regarding the shepherding of an
infatuated child.
It was, then, by one of those curious coincidences


424 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
perfectly explicable to the psychological mind, that the
in an himself glided to her side. He looked as tall and lean
as ever, but his eyes were less direct in their gaze, and
he did not seem to exercise his former self-control. Leah
and he had met but rarely during the past year, owing
to Ler retirement consequent on mourning observances,
and when they did meet each had avoided mention of
that memorable afternoon in Paris. But when he
crossed Leah's path thus unexpectedly, and when her
head was filled with Demetrius and with the woman
Demetrius did not love, she resolved to learn the worst
or the best. After greeting, she began to speak with
unconventional abruptness.
"Where is your daughter, M. Aksakoff?"
"On my "Volga estate," he replied nervously; and
from his averted eyes she made sure he was lying
badly.
"In Siberia, you mean."
He turned with a start. "How do you know
that?"
"I am right, then?"
Aksakoff clasped and unclasped two restless hands
over the knob of his cane. "I really cannot say. I do
not know why you should make that observation, after
I have informed you of my daughter's whereabouts."
"I make it because I am a woman, and being such,
I know that Katinka's love for that waxed-moustache
creature will lead her—perhaps has led her—even into
Siberian wilds."
Aksakoff stopped under the Achilles Statue and probed
her mind with his eyes. "Do you really think so?"
u I do. Does my thought confirm facts?"
He resumed his walk with a troubled face. "I will


426 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
that I do not know where she is. You suggest Siberia;
it is possible."
"I fancy so, seeing she is infatuated with the
man. But how could she possibly learn that he was
there?" Leah asked this question a trifle nervously,
for there seemed to be something menacing in this
strange behaviour of Katinka.
"Very easily. You sent her the letter supposed to
have been written by Constantine Demetrius in Paris."
"What letter is that?" she asked obstinately.
The Russian's eyes flashed. "You must know,
madame, and you do know, that the letter was forged
for your safety."
The Duchess stopped abruptly, and became as ice
in manner and speech. "You talk very strangely,
M. Aksakoff. My safety was never in danger, so far
as I know. Your anxiuty makes you indiscreet, and
thinking so, I pardon the indiscretion."
Aksakoff, knowing that she would continue to feign
ignorance, even in the face of aggressive facts, apolo-
gised with a bow, since it mattered very little. "In
that forged letter "—he was determined to stick to the
word—" was the name of Helfmann."
"Dr. Helfmann," she corrected.
"I gave him that degree, madame," said Aksakoff,
dryly. "Helfmann is one of our secret police"
"Then you had no business to introduce such a
creature into my rooms," said Leah, angrily.
"Pardon, the crime is twelve months old. To proceed.
Katinka knew the real business of this man, and may
have learned the truth, or enough of it, to make her
journey to Siberia. Tomsk—yes, Tomsk!" He leaned
his stick on the ground, his hands on the stick, and


428 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
hovering round Tomsk in the hope of aiding Demetrius
to escape. Should she be successful, as so determined
a girl might easily be, the man would return to this
Island of Refuge breathing out venpeance of the direst.
Leah had often contemplated a possible escape, followed
by a certain return, and the contemplation invariably
produced a shudder. Now that there seemed to be
some ground that the man who knew all ana would
tell all might come to England, she was conscious of
rising spirits. The feeling puzzled her.
"I ought to be shaking in my shoes," she reflected,
"but I feel rather pleased than otherwise. I am spoilt
for a life of cotton-wool and policemen at every corner.
Danger is the sole thing which amuses me. That must
be the explanation of my feeling jolly. I expect the
heroes and heroines of cheap novels feel the same when
they settle to a dull marriage after pages of hair-breadth
escapes."
She was perfectly right. Leah Pentland was a bad
woman mainly because she had been looked after too
carefully. It required upheavals to bring the possible
best out of her. She had behaved unscrupulously and
basely in dealing with the insurance fraud, because that
was the sole adventure which had come her way. But
had the adventure been heroic and noble, she would
have enjoyed it quite as much and would have struggled
quite as bravely. The reckless way in which she pulled
the whiskers of Death, when throned on her motor-car,
was characteristic of the woman. Given danger, and she
blossomed into a heroine, good or bad as circumstances
served. At heart she was no vapid society woman,
and her fiery pursuit of aimless pleasures merely showed
her restless and masculine temperament. Danger braced


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 431
"I think you are extremely selfish, and desperately
weak with even ugly women, and quite a brute when
you don't get your own pretty way, and—in short, you
are a man, a glorious lord of creation."
"Oh, drop rottin'."
"I am not rotting, as you delicately put it. Like
myself, this sugary civilisation has spoiled you. If you
had to earn your bread I should respect you, Jim. I
might even love you. Yes"—she considered for a
moment—" I daresay it might come to that."
Jim was growing bewildered. "What does all this
mean ?" was his very natural interrogation.
His wife bewildered him still more by acting in a
way which made him gasp. She walked round the
table, and, standing at his back, placed her arms round
his neck. "I'll tell you, Jim. I have just found out
by my very own self that you and I are cave-people
pitchforked into the wrong century. We live ten
thousand years too late—just think of it—ten thousand
years of life and death. Let us go back to the mud,
Jim, and take up the life where we left it when you
were killed, spearing that mammoth."
"Leah!" His head was thrown back, and his eyes
stared upward in alarm.
"I know what you think, but I am as sane as you
are, and ten times cleverer. No"; she loosened her
arms from his neck and locked them behind her.
"Look at me, Jim. Am I a doll?"
The startled Duke wheeled his chair and stared at
her brilliant eyes, no longer hard and cold, at her
stately figure, her splendid red hair, her clearly cut face
flushed and animated. "You're a rippin' fine woman,"
said he, his sluggish pulses stirred.


432 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"So you think —so the world thinks. Yet I have to
live in a wadded box like a wax doll. I want to get
out of that box—it stifles me, chokes me. I am sick
of the tents of Shcm, and with to house under those
of Esau. You and I will take the privilege of rank
and be eccentric. As pals we'll get on much better
than as a Mayfair man and wife of the wrong sort,
beyond the borders of this horrid civilisation that is.
Buy a yacht, Jim—a tramp hulk with those triple
expansion engines you told me about, and let us make
for the South Seas. There's a clear path down Channel.
Let us explore, let us venture into the Naked Lands
and exploit the fringes of the empire. I want to live—
to live, you understand. Oh," she cried almost fiercely,
"can't you understand?"
"No," said Jim, truthfully, and as stolid as ever; "you
have your rank to think of, and my name."
The fire died out of Leah's eyes, the colour from her
face, the ring from her voice; even her figure seemed
to dwindle from that of a tragedy queen into a con-
ventional Belgravian wife. Then she laughed shortly,
and in a way which Jim did not approve of in his
Duchess.
"I beg your pardon, Pentland," said Leah, using his
title to mark the far recoil. "I took you for a man:
you are nothing but a society gramophone."
Jim woidd have resented this contemptuous descrip-
tion, but that she gave him no time to formulate an
idea in his slow-thinking brain. With swift steps she
left the room and ascended to her boudoir; there,
after locking the door, with a strength which disordered
the lock, she flung herself face downward on the sofa,
and cried quietly, passionately, with that suppressed


CHAPTER XXXI
Leah made no further attempt to decivilise Jim. He
was too engrossed in Egyptian flesh-pots to set out
for the Promised Land of splendid adventure and
Elizabethan enterprise. In his clay there did lurk a
spark of that Promethean fire which, melting meaner
aims into one passionate purpose to explore the world
and exploit the world, has made England great. Un-
fortunately, it could not be fanned into anything
resembling a flame. The cucumbers, the melons, the
leeks, and the garlic of civilisation appealed to him
insistently, and even if he did betake himself to roaming
unfenced wastes, he certainly would not number a wife
amongst his luggage. Moreover—and this she knew
by instinct—his basic qualities were markedly those
of the homing kind. This being so, a few months of
tent and road would be used by him as a relish to
increased appreciation of the cedar chambers and painted
halls wherein his cradle had been rocked. It was
clearly impossible to make a silken purse out of this
particular sow's ear, so Jim drowsed very contentedly
beside the fire, while his wife, out of sheer ennui, chased
Piccadilly butterflies, or sat in her ducal niche to be
bored with social adoration.
But one thing rendered life endurable to Leah
Pentland at this juncture, and that was her coming
opportunity to exhaust the enjoyable. Now that the
434


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 437
"Wheresey hang out?"
"Don't know. Went prancing off on his own. Got
a puff?"
The inheritor of Algy's shoes provided the lady with a
cigarette. "Fancied she cottoned to th' Askew chap,"
he remarked, striking a match.
"Sure she did—oh, rather I Aksakoff let on to me
'bout the boy jumping Paris to get fixed—British
Embassy fixings, you know. Leah PentLind didn't
bring it off somehow. Lucky for her, seeing Jim
wasn't a goner. We rea'ly could not have received
her," ended Mrs. Penworthy; then, aware that she
had lapsed into decent English, corrected her mistake:
"Mean we couldn't have let her chip into our game."
"Like th' Duchess?" inquired her companion,
languidly.
"Don't know, quite. Snucy and swagger and all
that. Freezes a bit—what? Talks like a book, you
know. Awfully expensive rattle."
The man nodded. "Thought she wasn't up to dick.
Daresay she'll spin along on her own freely, when
the hump's off."
"Hump 1 She hasn't got tiie hump, or the needle
either."
"Very saucy hump," insisted the male linguist—
"quite birdish. Sorry the old Duke an' Frith hopped,
maybe."
"How very unnatural!" sighed Mrs. Penworthy, re-
verting to English in her disgust. "Quite too awf'l
to think how luck hooks on to her. lieally makes
one wish to be a bad woman, to see how she lands
the salmon," she finished more creditably.
Algy's latest successor was right, for once in his


438 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
life of mistakes. Leah was not entirely her own
brilliant self, notwithstanding that successful inaugura-
tion of the new era. The early excitement consequent
on the conversation with Aksakoff had died away, and
again she felt the old haunting fear of the possible.
But this absurd mood, she hoped, would pass away
when the test came. Facing her enemies, male and
female, she would doubtless fight like a cornered rat,
and would conquer from sheer determination not to
be beaten. Nevertheless, this period of suspense was
trying to one who had no listener, and who could not
talk herself into heroics by mere monologues. A
confidant was necessary only to the weaker part of
her character, since her deepest feelings advised her
that pure strength must needs be solitary. She was
an oak, not an ivy, and unknowingly agreed with
Emerson as to the vitiating effects of comfortable cir-
cumstances. "Cast the bantling on the rocks," sang
the Seer of Concord, and Leah indubitably squirmed
thereon, as Jim had informed her in his simple way
in a conversation now—apparently—some centuries old.
"Every month's a year now," sighed Leah, wearily.
However, pending a possible fight for her social
throne, the Duchess made the very best of the passing
hour. After the pagan entertainment of the winter
solstice, she endured the gorging Christianity of a few
belated country-houses, whose inhabitants were still
eating in honour of a Birth which had taken place
some two thousand years ago, as a Book they seldom
read assured them. She went alone to these Vitellian
feasts, as Jim was off the chain until such time as he
would be needed to play Duke during the season.
The aristocratic prodigal's reformation was but skin-


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 439
deep, and the late whitewash soon wore off to show
the unchanged black fleece, since he began with the
zeal of a newly uniformed subaltern to poach on
various matrimonial manors. Mrs. Penworthy he had
naturally grown tired of, as she preferred syndicates
to partnerships, so he placed his tried affections on
Lady Sandal, who was horsey and doggy and tremend-
ously expensive on account of her betting craze. She
and Jim talked kennels and stables, discussing their
very unplatonic loves between times, and found each
other kindred guttersnipes of the earthly, sensual kind.
Leah, speedily informed by a feminine sidewind of this
new amusement of Jim's four-and-twenty leisure hours,
did not object, or even hint her knowledge of his
backsliding. It kept him out of her way, and Lord
Sandal, a Nero with limitations, who dwelt in a super-
lative glass house, was not likely to submit his wife's
latest sin to the fierce light which beats upon the
divorce court witness-box. Nothing could be more
satisfactory to a woman who wanted complete freedom,
and Leah again thanked the agreeable fetish for making
straight her very crooked paths.
But all this time the sword dangled over Leah's
head, and its menace became so insupportable that
she wished the single hair would give way, to decide
brusquely for hit or miss. Her desire was gratified
on the very night when she made her curtsey to the
Sovereigns. Having created an immense impression,
the Duchess, with eyes as radiant as the family
diamonds crowning her imperial head, returned at
midnight to her home in the company of a purring
husband. Jim really felt that Leah had upheld the
family name with her insolent beauty, and moreover,


442 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Aksakoff with a conventional smile, meaning nothing
and yet everything. This gave place to an amazed
look when she beheld the haggard antagonist with
whom she had to cross swords.
"My—dear—girl! What have you been doing with
yourself?"
She might well ask. Katinka was no longer the
demure nun, but a fierce, goaded creature of the feline
tribe. Dressed quietly in unrelieved black, hatted,
cloaked, and gloved, she presented the appearance of
one sorely tried in the fiery furnace of affliction, and
less lucky than Daniel's brethren. That thin worn
face, those hollow eyes, the wry mouth, the dark hair
plentifully bestreaked with grey—she was demoralised,
uncanny, and aggressively cruel. In a flash the Duchess
knew that this untimely visitor knew the truth, and
was prepared to do battle. No quarter would be given
by Katinka Aksakoff, and Leah, with a deep breath,
braced herself for an Armageddon duel. The contrast
between the dowdy Russian girl and the magnificently
arrayed woman lay entirely in the garb; otherwise
they were cats of the wildest. Their faces took on a
marked resemblance; a stealthy, cunning, sly, guarded
expression effaced their ordinary looks. If Katinka's
eyes gleamed dangerously, so did those of Leah; if
Leah held herself like a pantheress about to spring,
so did Katinka. In that splendid room two pre-historic
creatures were about to fight over the male. Here
indeed was woman, the female of man. Civilisation
was nowhere.
"You know why I have come?" asked Katinka, in
a voice as hard as her eyes, and those might have
been fashioned of granite.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 443
Leah, with flattened ears, so to speak, professed
ignorance. She did not intend to criticise until fully
aware of facts. A shake of her head conveyed the
denial and brought forth one bitter word.
"Liar!"
The Duchess glanced towards the door, remembering
that the servants had not yet retired and might be
within earshot.
"Would you mind speaking in a lower tone?" she
suggested between her teeth, for the insult struck home.
"Sit down," ordered Katinka, imperiously.
"I prefer to stand," retorted her antagonist, fighting
for the inch.
Mademoiselle Aksakoff advanced one step and her
eyes probed those of the Duchess. Without words the
situation was adjusted, and in Leah's favour, for the
Russian suddenly sat down with a quick, indrawn
breath. By that action the woman who had done
the wrong knew that she was the stronger of the two,
and a tyrannical instinct to bully the weak rose hotly
in her breast.
"What do you mean by coming at this late hour
and misbehaving 1" she demanded harshly.
"You know well what I mean."
"Pardon me, I never profess to understand the
vagaries of a madwoman."
At this brutal speech Katinka's hand shot into her
pocket, but Leah did not move.
"A weapon?" she asked sneeringly; "that would
be quite in keeping with your blatant nationality.
Foreigners are so fond of the melodramatic."
The girl withdrew her hand quietly. "You are too
poor a creature to kill, Lady James."


444 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Leah smil- d at the old title, and passed the remark
with a contemptuous shrug.
"Later on, perhaps—who knows?"
"Who indeed? It is impossible to foresee what
an hysterical lunatic will do. Do you propose to
shoot or stab me, or to blow me up? I understand
that bombs are favoured in your happy country."
The crude hostility of the speech was plainly intended
to infuriate the Slav-woman, but it missed the mark
aimed at. Katinka looked at the mocker gravely.
"How afraid you are!"
Leah shrugged again; the remark was too futile to
be commented upon.
"Yes, you are," went on the other, a trifle roused;
u else you would have me turned out by your servants."
"Later on, perhaps—who knows?" repeated the
Duchess, using the girl's own words; then continued
soothingly, "No; I shall not call the servants and
make a scandal, since your father is my friend."
"Your accomplice, Lady James."
"What an unpleasant word, and how very un-
suitable!"
"For what you did in Paris."
"I did nothing in Paris to deserve such a word.
Perhaps you mean something else. You foreigners
know the grammar of English, but rarely the meaning
of words. I remarked the same defect in your father."
"I have no father."
"Indeed, I have not yet heard of his death."
"Your misunderstanding of my meaning is pretence."
"Ignorance, I assure you. And as it grows late
and I am tired, may I ask you to explain your
business?"


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 445
"I can do so in one word—Deni( trius." Katiiika
rose to give full force of expression to the name, and
her voice rose with the utterance.
Leah remained perfectly caim, and indulged in
badinage. "Demetrius? Oh yes, that horrid little
man with the waxed moustache: a doctor or a
chemist, wasn't he?"
"Your lover!"
"Oh no. I have no use for that sort of person; if
I had I should certainly not pick one out of the
gutter. Demetrius? Yes," she went on musingly, but
watchful of her enemy, "I had almost foigotteii him.
He went to St. Petersburg, didn't he? And you loved
him, I remember. A queer choke I thought at the
time. Well, have you married him 1"
"It grows late and you are tired," mocked Katinka,
successfully keeping her temper, and thereby dis-
appointing the Duchess; "we had better not waste time."
Leah yawned. "It seems to me that we have been
doing nothing else since you came in."
"Demetrius is in England."
"Really! How very interesting! As doctor or
Prince?"
"As an escaped Siberian felon."
"No!" Leah's face assumed a skilful expression of
mingled pity and horror. "Poor little man! He was
mad to go to Russia. I thought so when I read his
letter, which I sent you."
"The forged letter."
"Don't be silly; one would think you were on the
stage."
Katinka bit her lip to prevent furious speech, and
locked her aims behind her as though she feared le6t


446 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
temper should engender violence. Leah noted her ex-
pression, however, and retreated towards the bell.
"You are talking nonsense," she said coldly, "and
much as I respect your father, I shall certainly summon
the servants to put you out unless you go at once."
"I shall not go, and you shall not order your
servants to put me out," cried Katinka, fiercely. "I
defy you to press the button of the bell."
With a feeling that the girl had scored on this occasion
Leah withdrew her hand, making the usual excuse:
"For your father's sake I spare you the indignity."
"I repeat that I have no father."
"And I repeat that I am tired. What do you want 1"
"You must arrange with me to see Constantine."
"Who is Constantine?"
"You know."
"I do not."
"You do."
Their eyes met, and this time Leah won the victory
over a woman obviously worn out.
"Constantine is Demetrius," explained the Russian,
in a fatigued voice and closing her eyes. "Oh, my
God!" She dropped into her seat with a low wail and
covered her face.
Leah heard the clock strike the half-hour through
the sobs of her visitor. She was absolutely sure that
Katinka was at her mercy, and wished to dismiss her,
beaten and crushed. But first it was necessary to learn
why Demetrius had not come also. Leah moved swiftly
towards the broken creature, and laid a firm hand on
her heaving shoulder.
"My dear"
She got no further. With the elusive spring of a


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 447
wild animal Katinka flung off the hand, reared, and
struck out. The blow fell fairly on Leah's mouth, and
she found herself mopping up the blood of a deeply-cut lip
before she had any clear idea of what had taken place.
"Oh, you liar, you beast, you devil!" cried the
Russian, with the savagery of a Kalmuck tent-woman.
"I could kill you—kill you."
"Mad," mumbled Leah, with the lace handkerchief
to her lips.
"I am sane," retorted the other, swiftly. "I know
all. You lured Constantine to Paris; you sold him to
my father to hide your iniquity. I saw Helfmann the
spy; do you hear—the spy! I bribed him; it took
months to bribe him, but in the end I bought the truth.
My father—shame to my father—drugged Constantine
at your table, and Helfmann as a sham doctor took him
to Havre, to Cronstadt, to Moscow. The Grand Duke
Sergius"—here she spat when mentioning the hated
name—" yes, he, that beast of beasts, sent him to
Siberia for life; ar-r-r—for life! do you hear, Judas,
Jezebel, animal that you are! I followed there; I
followed the man I loved"
"And who did not love you," muttered the Duchess,
rocking with the pain of her swollen and bleeding lips.
She had seated herself by this time, and did not seek
to stem the torrents of insults.
"And why?" Katinka flung back her head and
her nostrils dilated. "Because you stole his heart that
he might do your evil bidding. But he loves me now
—with all his heart and soul he loves me now. I went
to Tomsk to aid his escape; I followed to Sakhalin.
I waited and waited, eating my heart out. Oh, my
heart!" she laid her hand on her breast; "oh, my break-


448 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
ing heart! We escaped—he did—I did; we escaped.
Do you hear, you who sold him? There were months
of terror and sorrow and cruel cold. But God was good;
He was kinder than man, more merciful than you, who
damned a soul to that frozen hell. God—the good God,
whom I adore and worship," she fell on her knees,
striking her hands together—" He aided us to reach
the waiting ship of Strange, and"
"Strange!" Leah rose, shaken and sick. "Strange!"
Katinka leaped up to face her. "The man you
bribed with six thousand pounds to take your sin on
his soul. I know all about your wickedness; Strange
knows; Constantine knows. We will tell the world
what we know; and you, shamed, disgraced, beaten,
hounded out of your world—ah, down will you fall—
fall—unless"
"Unless?" Leah, gripping a chair and swaying,
looked up. "Unless?"
"You come to Southend to see Constantine."
"I refuse."
"Then I tell everything. I go to your husband."
Leah, in spite of her pain, laughed at the idea. "I go
to your police. I tell"
"Stop, I shall come, since you insist upon it."
"I do—Constantine likewise. He is ill—very ill;
his eyes are blinded by the glare of the snows whither
you sent him; he is—oh, my poor angel, my patient
saint!—he is "Stopping abruptly, she looked with an
evil eye at the woman she had so shamefully marked.
"I will leave you to see the wreck you have made
of him. You will come?"
The Duchess nodded. "But I can explain alL" she
mumbled.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 449
"Explain it, then, to Constantine," said her enemy,
contemptuously. "I go now. Meet me to-morrow at
Liverpool Street Station—at the barrier. We can go
to Southend by the five o'clock train. Constantine is
on board Strange's ship, which lies off Southend."
"Ah! Then you mean to"
"Carry you away? No; you are not worth it."
Leah's indomitable courage, quelled for the moment,
blazed up fiercely. She forgot her pain, her disfigured
mouth, and faced Katinka in a blind rage. "You—
you "she clenched her hands, and panted like a
spent runner. "You have said all; I agree to all."
The Russian looked at the wounded mouth with a
cruel, calm smile, then sauntered deliberately to the
door. There she smiled still more serenely, pointed a
mocking finger at her enemy's wry mouth, and slipped
away without a word, and almost without a sound.
Leah sprang to the mirror. Had this woman marred
her beauty? The mouth was swollen, the lips still
bleeding 5 'there were wounds within and without, and
a rather loose tooth. Leah could have howled aloud
at the shame, the humiliation of her defeat. That she
should be struck, beaten, mastered—she of all women;
she—she! "Ar-r-r! Augh!" she cried, but softly,
mindful of danger. Then the thought came to her
that she would have to account for her damaged mouth,
and with the thought came enlightenment. Passing
quickly out of the room, she ascended the stairs rapidly
to her room. Hnlf-way up she stumbled and fell. The
footman, hearing the fall, ran up and lifted her. He
saw that her mouth was bleeding. Natural enough—
oh, perfectly natural! "It's them beastly long trains,"
explained the footman in the servants' hail.
23


452 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
and condemned. Her hand could not be traced either
in his Parisian journey or in the drugging of the
tea. How was she to know that Helfmann was a
police spy, or that the letter assuring her of the doctor's
intended return to Russia had been deftly forced?
Her surface behaviour, at least, was perfectly honest,
and would bear even the scrutiny of an interviewer.
She could, taking a broad view of unpleasant circum-
stances, defy the creature; but nevertheless felt
instinctively that it would be unwise to dare him to
do his worst. Such a plotting, narrow-minded, sneaking
beast would ruin himself to ruin her, and mud, if thrown
persistently, was apt to stick even to the whitest robe.
What a shame that this animal should so persecute
her! How hard on a kind-hearted woman, whose sin,
as he called it, was merely an error of judgment. By
the time Leah finished her reflections her frame of
mind was one of much-injured innocence.
Later in the day, when driving to Liverpool Street
Station to keep her hated appointment, Leah half
decided to call on Aksakoff. But second thoughts
assured her that his intervention was quite out of the
question. Were Demetrius to be arrested in British
waters the Radical press would howl, and nasty
meddling politicians would ask unnecessary questions
in the Commons. It would be wiser, after all, to tight
alone and to the bitter end. If Demetrius thought
she would give in, Demetrius was entirely mistaken.
He had yet to learn th:it she could be as nasty as
hitherto she had been nice. But he was horridly un-
grateful, as all men were. In this way did the arch-
plotter salve her conscii nee and compose her mind.
It was darkish when the brougham arrived at the


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 453
station, and Leah, glancing about under the electric
lamps, saw Katinka waiting at the ticket-barrier. For
the benefit of an inquisitive maid and an observant
groom she addressed her gaily, though it was not easy
to speak with still aching lips.
"You are punctual," said the Duchess, pressing an
unwilling hand with ostentatious warmth. "Excuse my
speaking much. I fell on the stairs last night after
you left and hurt my mouth."
"I commiserate with you, madame," replied Katinka,
sarcastically.
"So good of you. I hope M. Aksakoff will not expect
me to chatter."
"My father? " echoed the girl, staring.
"He's at Southend, isn't he i " said Leah, impatiently;
"at least, you told me so hist night. I have instructed
my maid to go on to Firmingham, while we travel
straight to Southend. Such a cockney place, isn't it?
Then we can get back—oh, about what time?"
"Say eleven o'clock," returned the Russian, grimly.
She now saw through the clever comedy which was
being played.
"You understand, Marie," said Leah, turning to her
maid, who was all ears and eyes; "see that the brougham
is sent in time. Come with me, dear—there's a reserved
compartment—at least, I ordered one. Curl, go and
look."
Thus prattling to deceive her domestics, Leah ad-
justed a very thick veil, which hid from the public
a face whose expression was quite at variance with
her sweet, nothings. When the two entered the earring,
and the train was moving slowly out of the station,
Katinka burst into a harsh laugh.


454 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"I congratulate you, Lady James; you should have
been a conspirator."
"So your dear father told me. Compliments run in
your family, apparently. Surely you do not blame me
for putting things right with my servants. They might
think it queer, otherwise, and one cannot be too careful
with such croatures."
"I fail to see what good your exceedingly clever
explanations will do. Constantino intends to speak
out."
"What about?" asked Leah, chafing, and throwing
up her veil to manage the girl more easily with her
dominating eyes.
Katinka, always fiery, and with slack nerves after
her Siberian experiences, almost lost what temper
she had left. "Need we keep on your comedy,
madame?"
"I'm sure I do not know what you mean. One
would think that I wished to deceive people, the way
you talk. And after what I have done for you, too—
it's most ungrateful."
"And pray what have you done, Lady James?"
"Don't call me Lady James; your stupid mistakes
get on my nerves. Done? Why, I pretended to fall
on the stair to excuse the state of. my mouth. Had
I bet n a nasty, spiteful creature such as you are, I
should have given you in charge for assault."
"Give me in charge now," sneered the girl.
"I might. Don't drive me into a corner."
"You are inconsistent. If you have done nothing
wrong, how can I drive you into the corner you
speak of?"
"Because you are a monomaniac," retorted the


LADY JIM OF CL'RZON STREET 457
in honest eyes. Strange did the honours, loud-tongued
and raucous.
"Guess it do my eyes good to see your Grace," was
his welcome.
"Hold your tongue, and don't use my title," she
replied furiously.
Strange's milk of human kindness turned sour on
the instant. "I ain't high-falutin' enough, I s'pose.
Pity I ain't a dandy skipper of sorts, all hair-oil an'
giddy gold tags."
Leah turned her back without deigning a reply,
and looked inquiringly at Katinka. The girl, with an
enigmatic smile on her wan face, led the way down
some greasy stairs, into a stuffy state-room, and opened
the narrow door of a side-cabin. Leah entered and
heard the lock click behind her. Evidently Made-
moiselle Aksakoff did not think it judicious to remain.
"But I daresay her ear is at the key-hole,"
thought the Duchess, contemptuously. She was trying
to preserve her self-respect by heaping obloquy on her
rival, but scarcely succeeded as well as she desired.
Then she said "Ugh!" twice and with emphasis.
The interjections were not meant for the girl's possible
eavesdropping, but to show Leah's disgust at the close
atmosphere of the cabin. It was a nauseous, musky,
sickly odour, which reminded her only too vividly of
the monkey-house at the Zoo. Neither light nor
air entered the den, save through the round port-hole
over the bunk, which was unscrewed. But even the
briny sea-breeze blowing softly could not do away with
that thick, tainted atmosphere which had provoked
the visitor's exclamations. With her handkerchief to
her mouth Leah's eyes strove to become accustomed


458 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
to the faint light. She saw dimly a heap of blankets,
but no form was visible beneath, and no face was to
be seen. Possible trickery occurred to her, until a voice
came heavily through the fetid gloom. Then, in spite
of its odd, strangled sound, she felt instinctively that
Demetrius was buried somewhere under the clothes.
"You will excuse the absence of a lamp, madame.
My eyes are half blinded with the snow-glare, and
very tender."
"How strangely you speak!" remarked Leah, in-
voluntarily.
"A sore throat," was the hoarse reply. "Siberia,
as madame must be aware, is not a summer climate."
The wheezy sound ended in a kind of piping whistle.
"I am sorry you have suffered," said the Duchess,
at a loss what to say. "Ugh, the smell!" she thought,
seating herself on a locker, and feeling almost too sick
to control her faculties.
"Madame is too good."
A dangerous pause ensued, while Leah wondered
what was about to happen. The man assuredly was
Demetrius, and Demetrius was assuredly extremely ill.
It was within the bounds of possibility that he might
spring up and kill her. The thought did not trouble
her overmuch. So dangerous a business had to be
faced undauntedly, and she kept down her womanly
weakness with masculine strength. During those slow
minutes she could hear the lapping of the waters, on
which the vessel rocked; hear also the laboured breath-
ing of the sick man. This stopped for a moment, and
then did she hear her own easy breaths. Demetrius
evidently heard them also, and had paused to listen.
He laughed weakly, softly, clucking like a fowl.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 459
"Madame is very brave."
"I'm frightened to death," she assured him, to excite
I lis pity.
"Your breathing tells me otherwise. I am certain,
madame, that your pulse beats regularly, and that your
nerves are entirely in order."
"Is this a consultation ?" she asked coolly.
"It is the farewell of two who loved," murmured the
hard, thick voice, muffled by the blankets. "That is,
madame, of one who loved and of one who did not; and
therein, as M. Heine truly remarks, lies the tragedy
of existence."
"Demetrius—Constantine." Leah felt that she must
come to the point and get rapidly through the interview,
if only to escape from the sickening atmosphere.
"Katinka accuses me of betraying you."
"Well, madame?"
"I did not. I swear I did not."
"Indeed? Mademoiselle Aksakoff is doubtless mis-
taken."
"In a way. She wishes to save her father from bliime."
"As a good daughter should. Will you explain
further, madame?"
"Certainly. I came, of my own free will, to explain.
Katinka told me how ill you were, and I could not
bear to think you should die believing me to be
dishonourable."
"Madame speaks hopefully of my dying. It would
please her, perhaps?"
"No. What do you take me for? I never loved
you as you wished to be loved; but if M. Aksakoff
had not interfered, and we had married, I should have
come to love you."


460 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"You speak of what might have been."
"I suppose so. Circumstances are altered. Marriage
is out of the question."
"Assuredly, and I am scarcely fit for a bridegroom.'
"What is the matter with you?" asked Leah,
anxiously.
Demetrius passed over the question. "Besides, Captain
Strange informed me that your husband has returned.
Madame was doubtless pleased at that marvellous
resurrection, so cleverly managed."
"No," said Leah, honestly enough. "I was not;
but circumstances made it imperative that Jim should
return."
"And for me to travel in Siberia 1"
"Blame M. Aksakoff, blame M. Aksakoff," she
insisted. "1 am innocent."
"Be pleased to observe, madame, that as yet I have
brought no accuration against you."
"Katinka acted as your mouthpiece."
"You have not my authority to say that."
"Then I gather that you do not blame me for your
exile?"
"How can I with any truth, madame, seeing that
you accuse M. Aksakoff?"
"I do," said Leah, resolutely.
"In tl at case I regret that Mademoiselle struck
the wrong person."
"You know that she struck me?"
"I was informed of it this morning, and express my
regret that she acted so foolishly. Did the blow hurt
you?"
"It was most painful. I feel it still"
"Your lip is cut, then?"


464 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"St. Petersburg," announced the toneless voice,
"Moscow, and the farce of a trial. The waving of a
white-gloved hand, and a courtly bow, to dismiss me
into pain and darkness and to a living grave. Nijni-
Novgnrod, and Mother Volga, who takes us convicts
to her breast."
Here came the dry chanting of a weird song which
made the listener's flesh creep, and her guilty sou] quail.
Then again, slowly, wearily, Demetrius began to name
the stations of his cross on the way to the calvary of
a final prison. "Kazan, Pimybor, Perm, the bleak
Urals, that prison wall of the exile; Ekaterinburg,
Tiumen, the doorstep to the barren cell. Borka,
Dobrouna, Oshalka"— the rough Russian names grated
on Leah's ears ;—" Yevlevoi and the slow-flowing river,
the prison barge, the black bread, the bitter, biting,
burning cold; Tobolsk, with its deathly mists and
clammy darkness of Egypt; the Charity Song—the
weary, weary Miloserdnaya!" He sang another line or
two in a cracked voice, and broke out more humanly:
"Then the warm sunshine like the smile of the good
God, and days of those gentle winds we shall never
breathe more. The flowers and the winds, the sunshine
and the laughing children. Samarof, Sourgout, Narym ";
he paused to gather strength for the crying of a name
which issued with a sob of heartfelt agony: "Tomsk—
oh, Tomsk I Those long, long days of waiting for what
was to be; the horrible mercies of the unjust. Kyrie
eleison! Christe eleison! Kyrie eleison I" She saw the
convulsive movements of the blankets, and knew tha
he was making the sign of the cross. After the crying
to God and His Son came the protest against the
cruelty of man. "The weary prison of Tomsk; the


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 465
road—the long, horrible road to the ice-bound coast.
Sakhalin, the island of pain, the hell of the innocent,
and a human soul lost. Christe eleison! A loving,
sinning soul for which Thou didst die, lost—lost—lost!"
Leah's nerves ached and shook and shuddered as the
account of the vile journey welled forth smoothly iiko
thick oil. With fixed eyes and fascinated ears she took
in the terrible Odyssey. After another sobbing pause—
the broken creature was crying bitterly—the voice
recommenced, droning on one note until Leah felt that
she could have screamed if only to vary the sound.
Demetrius spoke of the barren wastes of Sakhalin
in the Gulf of Ochotsk, where the freezing straits of
Neviski run between mainland and island. He told
of obdurate Cossacks, of cruel gaolers, of the treacher-
ous Gilyak natives, who prevent the escape of the
mortal damned. A note of emotion crept into the
voice, and in its level tones she discerned a faint hope.
A smuggled letter, and the assurance that help was
at hand; a corrupted warder, a bribed soldier, a black
starless night, and a desperate escape over dese.rts of
snow. Then came heart-rending relations of a drifting
boat, of suffering and starvation and cold which burnt
to the bone. Leah heard of a brave woman—" my love—
my love," said the voice tenderly—toiling with a bought
Japanese fisherman to bring the tiny shallop to a
haven beyond the grip of the merciless Muscovite.
The weird tale took her through La Perouse Straits,
northward amongst the Kurile Islands, and into the
naked lands of Kamchatka. Here again, as she
gathered, the fugitives were in danger of recapture;
but they fled still further north through the bitter
cold, and andar a bleak sunless sky, to herd with the
3°


466 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Koriaks. The tormented voice droned ever on about
these filthy savages, fish-eaters, and hunters of the
unclean; it shuddered through accounts of loathsome
diseases, and of smoky defiled huts like the hells of
Swedenborg. And the man wailed always, ever and
again, of the danger of being retaken, of terrible
suspense, of shattered nerves, and of the eternal
strength of a pure woman's love. The tale ended with
painful outbursts of joy at the sight of 8trange's
tramp standing towards the inhospitable Siberian coast.
"Peace, plenty, warmth, food, safety, kindness,
hope, love!" chanted the voice, broken up into almost
musical gratitude. Then a pause of infinite meaning,
ended by a dry clucking chuckle. "And I lived that
I might see you," breathed the man she had cast into
the hell he had described. Leah's hair bristled at
the roots. The speech was so terribly significant.
But her soul still fought against the inevitable punish-
ment, whatever that might be.
"Not my fault," she panted eagerly; "horrible,
horiible—but not my fault! Oh, believe—believe me,
Constantine."
"You have asserted your innocence before,"
murmured the sick man, ironically; "and now"
"Now?" her heart almost stood still, so intensely
did she listen.
"We must part for ever."
"But you—you"
"I devote what remains of my life to the woman
who has saved me—to the angel who drew me out
of the frozen deeps of hell."
"And—and you—you will say—nothing?"
"This boat leaves here tonight for a place which


468 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Ugh!" groaned Leah, and snatched eagerly.
Packet and hand disappeared swiftly, and the voice
whistled in a jeering manner. "One kiss, madame,
one kiss."
She still fought. "My mouth is sore. I am"
"One kiss—one kiss—the last and the best; or—
or
Leah, writhing against the wall, gaspsd soundlessly.
In that last word there was the sound of a terrible
threat. It was the knell of respectability, of ease
and luxury, and of all that makes life worth living.
A single caress would buy the evidence; a touch of
her mouth, and she would be free for ever and ever
and ever.
"One kiss, then," she muttered; and with all her soul
crying strenuously against the horror, she tottered
forward. "One "; her lips sought the place where a
mouth might be supposed to be waiting. Two arms
flew up and gripped her.
She could not scream, for the arms dragged her
down, bcltd her like iron bands. Her mouth was on
his, his lips were on hers. She writhed, silent and
agonised, in the horrible caiess, in the abominable
embrace, trying to free herself in vain. Demetrius
placed his lean hand on the back of her head and
absolutely ground her mouth against his own. She
could feel the wounds break and bleed, sanctifying the
kiss of Judas.
His arms relaxed, she flung backward, and the long-
withheld scream broke forth shrill and vehement. As if
in answer to that terrible summons, Katinka tore open
<,he door and entered with a smoky paraffin lamp.
SVith one hand the girl thrust the shaking, sobbing


478 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Not with you, perhaps."
"Leah!" he turned and reclosed the door, which his
rage had wrenched open. "I know you've got a beastly
tongue, and all that; but I could have sworn that
you were as pure as my mother."
"Well, and so you can."
"What? After you confessin' that you kissed
Demetrius?"
"Ugh!" Leah shuddered, as a picture after the
style of Wiertz rose to her mind's eye. "I kissed a
thing which was once Demetrius."
"Is he dead, then?"
"Better if he were. Ugh! That kiss was the most
horrible thing I ever had to do in my life."
"Why did you do it, then?"
"I was forced to," she said faintly, and nausea made
her place a handkerchief suddenly to her lips.
The Duke returned for the third time to his seat
and looked into her changing face with round inquiring
eyes. "There's somethin' in this I don't catch on to,"
he muttered; then, with gruff tenderness, and a timid
caress from which Leah did not shrink, "What is it,
old girl?"
The Duchess laughed. It was amusing to find her
husband playing the spring bachelor. "I believe you
love me," said she, recovering her colour.
"You know I do, only you keep me at arm's length."
"Have I not cause?"
"You wouldn't have, if you behaved as a fellow's
wife should," said the Duke, bluntly. "Drop skirtin'
round the bush and plunge in."
Leah admired and respected him in this peremptory
mood, and for once showed no disposition to use her


482 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Yes!" She turned pale, and her voice quavered.
"Such an object could not possibly live. It would be
a—a—sin."
"What's his trouble?"
"I don't know—I can't say. I don't want to say.
It's—it's too beastly for words. Ugh! He looked—
looked—oh!" Leah's mouth worked like a rebuked
child, and she burst into tears—into real womanly tears
of shame and terror and outraged modesty. "That
horrible kiss—oh, that horrible kiss!" she wailed,
pinching his shoulder in her hysterical emotion.
"Poor old girl," said Jim, softly, and put his arm
round her.
For once she appreciated marital sympathy, and
learned that woman was not made to live alone.
Leaning her cheek thankfully against the rough tweed
of his coat, she sobbed vehemently, a frightened and
crushed creature. Jim felt that he was a married man
after all, and administered gruff consolation. It worried
him to see this high-spirited woman break down so
utterly. "There, there," said he, tenderly; "it's all
right, old girl. You've got me."
"Thank God," murmured the beaten atheist.
Jim thought she must be going out of her mind.
"What's that?" That she should thank a God she did
not believe in, and for a husband whom hitherto she
had always scorned, quite frightened him.
"What's that, Leah?" he asked again.
"Thank God for you," sobbed the Duchess, brokenly.
"Oh, my aunt," muttered the startled husband; then
proceeded to fresh consolati n: "Well, then, I'll break
the head of any bounder who dares to say a word
against you."


484 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
sat silently on the sofa in the gathering darkness, locked
in a close embrace. The remorseful Jim felt that they
were prisoners in the same dock, and anxiously paved
a certain place with the very best intentions. Leah
went to sleep, thanks to a less tender conscience.
To the world these two were the prosperous and
happy Duke and Duchess of Pentland; to themselves,
a misguided couple driven to do wrong by circumstances;
but to God—what did they appear in God's sight?
Remorse is not repentance, and remorse was the sole
feeling of which they were capable. Leah's sleep was'
the slumber of the worn-out; Jim's self-promised re-
formation the result of shame. Shallow beings, miser-
able creatures, they could not plumb the depth of their
wrong-doing. To them, sins were faults, and they were
governed less by the Sermon on the Mount than by
the laws of society. Indeed, it is questionable if either
one of them was aware that such a sermon had been
preached; but both knew to a hair how far they could
go without being ostracised.
Jim was the better of the two, for the cold, brutal
story told by his wife made him hot with the public-
school shame of having done things which no fellow
could do. The drastic codes of Eton and Harrow and
Rugby and Winchester came to his mind, and he saw
how he had sinned against the primitive laws of honour.
Without oaths, he swore to lead a better and cleaner
life with Leah to help him. He would be charitable
and a good landlord, and take the chair at public
dinners, and speak in the Lords, and chuok Lady Sandal
—who was too expensive—and drop gambling to a certain
extent, and not swear more than necessary, and—and—
do what a man in his high position ought to do.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 485
It will thus be seen that poor Jim's ideas of reforma-
tion were crude. He felt this himself, poor man, in
his narrow brain; and like the child he really was,
looked down to ask his clever wife's adviee. He had
no time to consider the irony of the thing, even if it
had occurred to him, for discovering that Leah was
sound asleep, he wondered hugely. From the placid ex-
pression of her face it was very plain that her crimes had
not followed her into Dreamland. Jim whistled softly,
marvelling that she could slumber so immediately after
what she had told him. Laying her gently back on
the sofa, he summoned her maid, and went about his
own business. This was to begin reformation without
loss of time.
"I must help Leah to be good," said the new broom.
But first he had to reform himself, and set about
the first step, or what he conceived to be the first step,
with the enthusiasm of the very bad person made
uncomfortable by remorse. The vicar of Firmingham
received a visit from his patron just as he was about
to enjoy a well-earned dinner.
"Lionel," said the Duke, nervously, "I'm comin' to
communion in a month. Could you get me whitewashed
in that time?"
Lionel stared, and looked upward. Strange to say
the heavens did not fall.


CHAPTER XXXIV
Weke a purblind generation convinced of the invaluable
blessings of sorrow, trouble would be robbed of its sting.
Ignorance and fear make the unenlightened bemoan
their burdens, or shirk bearing them, as they should be
borne, with the strength of hope. Chastening is the gift
of the eternal love, and those happy few who know
this submit with joy to the improving rod. But
worrying is not submission, nor is grumbling a recogni-
tion of curative effects. To be manful, to be daring,
to be so entirely wise from the learning of the lesson
as to extract the sweet from the bitter, thus do we
prove ourselves worthy of that suffering which God
bestows in mercy and in pity. Troubles, if rightly
understood, deepen the most shallow character, purify
the most soiled sold. They begin in woe but they end
in joy. When the lesson is learned, then comes the
holiday—or more precisely, the holy-day—of peace and
gladness.
Jim, in his simple way, understood that out of ap-
parent evil great good had come to himself and Leah.
Never before had they understood each other so well;
never before had they forgathered with less friction.
The Duke's reformation was as genuine as his embryonic
soul was capable of making it. He felt desperately
ashamed of himself at the communion table, and
486


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 487
shame of self, provided the physical ego be not con-
sidered, is the beginning of repentance, which leads to
hope, which brings pardon and solace to the uneasy,
sinful heart. Jim did not become a saint by any
manner of means, but he tried by fits and starts to be a
better man, and .mo, with true though faltering zeal,
advanced towards the light. And it was much gained
that so once self-satisfied a man should acknowledge
himself to be at all in need of improvement. The
recalled code of schoolboy honour helped him to amend
the less drastic rules of the society man. Could Jim
have only gone still farther back, and remembered
helpful nursery prayers and childish faith, he might
have seen even more clearly how to utilise his mistakes.
But he was yet a spirit in embryo, and his receptive
powers were not great.
Leah did not keep pace with her husband on the
upward path. When the danger was brought to
naught, and her nerves became more normal, she forgot
everything with the alacrity of a hardened heart.
The wind of the Spirit had but troubled the surface
of her nature; its depths remained undisturbed.
Within a fortnight he"r dear devil of egotism returned,
and she tore out of her book of life the disagreeable
page, which she declined to read for the second time.
Certainly she retained so much grace and memory as
not to laugh at Jim's efforts to be good, and she was
less ready than of yore to see and comment upon his
obvious failings. But she secretly wondered that he
should try to be pious, when there was no worldly
advantage to be gained by such dullness. Besides, Jim,
with the zeal of the newly converted, began to preach
in a stammering, shamefaced way about the duties they


48S LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
owed to themselves in particular and to society at
large. He even looked up Noblesse oblvje at the
tail-end of the dictionary, and quoted the platitude to
Leah. On that occasion she had laughed consumedly;
but, truth to say, Jim's sermons bored her immensely.
She preferred those of Lionel, who, as a professional
guide to glory, knew his business, whereas poor dear
Jim was hopelessly muddled.
Therefore, while the Duke laboriously tried to be
good, and succeeded but doubtfully, Leah was coquetting
deliriously with tho world, the flesh, and the many
agreeable devils of her acquaintance. She improved her
former extravagances into something worse, and revenged
herself for being agreeable to Jim by letting both
friends and enemies have the full benefit of her witty,
cruel tongue. The few who did not come under its
lash were in ecstasies at her sparkling conversation,
and the many who did made themselves pronouncedly
pleasant out of mortal fear. Leah danced and sang
through the season with the insolent glee of a woman
who knows her position to be unassailable. Jim
wondered at her short memory, and tried to refresh
it; but that she would not endure, and declined even
to hear the name of Demetrius. Moreover, as M.
Aksakoff had been translated to Copenhagen, there
was no need to smooth matters over between him and
the Duke. Everything was safe, everything was
ripping, and she felt that her latest pas de seul was
being executed on h'rm ground. She had skipped in
the very nick of time from that dangerous old mount
which had erupted so feebly.
And no one could say but what she did her best
to be anralile. Late in the season she met and


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 489
congratulated Mr. and Mrs. Askew; she told Lady
Richardson how she admired her courage—underlined
—in marrying that handsome pauper, Captain Lake;
and forgivingly did she condole with Mrs. Penworthy,
when the unexpected death of Freddy, from overwork,
left that evergreen hack a widow whom no admirer
wished to marry. Lady Canvey was most tenderly
considered, and Wallace, the globe'trotting cynic, on
Leah's introduction, amused the stay-at-home old lady
by special command. The sedate Hengists thought
even more of the Duchess than they had done of Lady
Jim, and she was often asked to bore herself in their
protective company. She gave Sir Billy Richardson
a smiling time at one of the ducal seats, and invited
Joan Kaimes to Curzon Street for a week of shopping
and frivolity. Also bazaars and charity concerts, and
meetings about the unemployed aristocracy, took up
her attention. The fashionable congregation of an
exclusive church beheld her regularly in its midst, and
heard the audible admission that she was a miserable
sinner—a most touching confession for a truly good
Duehess to make. Then she befriended a bishop, who
was not too straight-laced, and induced him to preach
a scientific sermon in Lionel's church, of which Lionel,
very nastily, did not approve. Oh, it was a merry
time, when the grapes were ripe and the first-fruits
of her ducal harvest were being gathered in. The
Duchess of Pentland won golden opinions even from
the censorious. Things could not have been better
managed by the discarded fetish, and Leah admitted
that in this respectable orgy the birthday of her life
had come.
During this meteoric career it surprised every one


490 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
that she should choose to retire suddenly. Fashion
clamoured at her closed doors; society journals
wondered and lamented; individual friends expressed
themselves puzzled; and in print and conversation the
freak of a Duchess who chose to disappear was freely
discussed. It was as though the noonday sun should
set unexpectedly. Leah's radiant orb had blazed
triumphantly for a few months, paling the lesser stars
of society, and then—had vanished. The Duke, when
applied to for an explanation, stated that she had gone
abroad, because her health was—hum—hum—hum.
She crossed the Channel alone, too, which looked odd.
People began to talk and to invent reasons to explain
the inexplicable. But not even the most daring hinted
at a connubial disagreement. Jim would have stopped
any such rumour at once with high words. Not that
it could arise, seeing that he thanked God publicly
every Sunday for possessing a wife whose price was
far above rubies. But whatever had happened, what-
ever might be the reason, it was indisputable that the
beautiful and wealthy and clever and popular Duchess
of Pentland had retired from the world in her heyday
of social success.
Lionel was the first to hear of her when she returned
unexpectedly to Firmingham, after a month's sojourn
on the Continent. One day in the chilly grey autumn
weather he received a note asking him to call at
four o'clock, and went unthinkingly to pass through
what he afterwards remembered as the most painful
hour of his life. He fancied, when setting out, tho',
Leah merely wished to see him about the Duke. 1 b
might be that Jim, with the Old Adam leaven still
working within, had broken out agi.In, and that Lionel


LADY JIM Of CURZON STREET 493
Lionel tried to read her face, but in vain, and could
not arrive at the meaning of her apparently aimless
conversation. The slanting rays of sunset made a
radiant glory round her as she half sat, half reclined
in the chair, and her beauty could bear even that
merciless test. Youth, health, money, charm, loveli-
ness—with these desirable blessings at her command,
what else could she want?
"I do not quite understand," said the perplexed
man.
"Understand what?" she asked absently; then
became more alive to his question. "Oh, my chatter.
You will, before we part. I am no sphinx to propose
riddles."
"Every woman is a sphinx."
"Without a secret; that is why you men find us so
difficult to comprehend."
"I confess to the difficulty at this moment."
"What a complex mind I must have! Yet I am
a very ordinary butterfly of fashion; something with
wings, at all events, though not entirely an angel."
Her visitor laughed. "Am I to pay you a compli-
ment, or rebuke you for frivolity?"
"You can do both or either; the sweet first will
counterbalance the bitter last. But I sicken of compli-
ments."
"Even when genuine 1"
"They never are. Men say things they don't mean
to women out of traditional reverence for the exploded
idea of the weaker vessel. When you meet a child your
first thought is to give it sweets; when you talk with
us the same thought is translated into polite lies.
And we never believe you—never," Leah assured him.


494 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
"Plain or beautiful, vain or humble, we price the
words directly. In no case have I found them to be
of value."
"You make us out to be fools."
"One must be truthful at times. Of course, I
always except you, Lionel, as you are more man than
parson."
"Cannot I be both 1"
"Oh, yes, when miracles occur. Lately I heard of
a parson who laboured solitary and freezing amongst
the snows of Labrador for a poor eighty pounds a year.
He was emphatically a man."
"And a parson," supplemented the vicar; "so, you
see, miracles do occur."
A warm colour crept into Leah's cheeks, and she
looked piercingly at her companion. "Do they? Now-
adays, I mean. I am not using a mere phrase, believe
me. Honestly now, could those Gospel miracles occui
in this twentieth century?"
Lionel mused, and considered a careful reply. "Our
Master was given the Spirit without measure as a
man because He was the Son of the Most High; by
that wisdom did He work His marvels. But the
Apostles, in His power, also prevailed over the ap-
parently natural, showing signs and wonders to the
glory of the Risen Lord and His Father. 'With faith
ye can do all things,' said the blessed Jesus Himself.
Yes, Leah, I reverently believe that with purity, faith,
and a humble trust in the Father by the merits of
the Son, and by the power of the Holy Ghost, miracles
could take place to-day."
"Then why don't they?" she asked abruptly.
The vicar, sighing, dropped into the high-pitched


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 495
sing-song of the pulpit. "A faithless and perverse
generation"
"A scientific generation, you mean. I don't believe
—I can't believe—and I won't believe. Prove the
power of your Master. You have faith; you are good;
you''
"No, no! You go too fast. I assuredly try to be
good, but I am sadly wanting in many ways. I have
faith, but how weak, how faltering. Who am I, to
claim that the Lord should select me to reveal His
strength unto men? I can work no miracle, Leah.
Would to God that I could, if only to convince you!"
"Would to God that you could!" she echoed with
something like a groan, and the faint flush disappeared,
like the dying out of a hope.
"Why do you, a sceptic, ask about these things?"
Leah, possessed by the spirit of the perverse, laughed
maliciously. "Jim is trying to be good; why should not
I try also, since a wife is bound to follow her husband,
according to St. Paul, who by the way was a bachelor?
But," her mood shifted, "Jim has a tin-pot sort
of faith which is better than nothing. I have not,
and so, like your unbelieving Jews, require a sign."
Lionel became professionally interested, descrying in-
timations of a changed heart. "I believe that you
will yet find the Kingdom," he said hopefully.
"Don't you make any such mistake," she retorted.
"I have not yet set out to find it, and never will,
unless I see some of those wonders about which you
talk so glibly."
"But, believe me—"
"I do, though not to the extent of Bible magic.
You hypnotise yourself into crediting the impossible.


496 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
I wish you could hypnotise me. Oh, I wish—I wish—
I wish !" she ended passionately.
"Faith is not hypnotism," argued Lionel; the word
grated on his ear.
"It is—it is—it is!" Leah was vehement in her
denial. "Science can explain everything. Why do
you come here to prate of miracles, when you know
in your own heart that such things never were and
never can be?"
"They were and they can be and they will be, while
Christ reigneth," asserted the vicar, firmly; "nothing
is impossible to God."
"Then call upon Him, and work your marvel."
"I am not worthy."
"You are not able, rather," and she taunted him as
did Elijah the priests of Baal, their god.
Kaimes wondered at her restless moods, and wondered
still more when she abruptly left the serious subject
they were discussing—and on her own initiative—to
talk most frivolously.
"I have heard you preach," went on this weather-
cock, "and I am no more to be persuaded than
was Agrippa. You and your shadows"—she whiffed
these away. "Pouf! Let us talk of real things " ; and
a toss of her head dismissed the spiritual for the purely
temporal. "I had such a ripping time this season,"
rattled on the nature set upon pomps and vanities.
"Leah, Leah! How can you?"
"Change so rapidly? Oh, my good man, I am a
twirl-ma-gee woman, ever seeking variety. Religious
conversation is neither amusing nor convincing. It's
much more fun to talk of one's friends and abuse their
failings."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 497
"I decline to join in," said Lionel, dryly, and feeling
nonplussed.
"Because you have no sense of humour. What a
dull time of it Joan must have, poor child!"
"She does not complain," he objected stiffly.
"Oh, Lord, what is the use of complaining? I never
'whimper about Jim, though his goodness is even duller
than his badness. 'I have tried George drunk, I have
tried George sober 1"—she was quoting an epigram of
Charles II.—" ' and there is nothing in George.'"
"You are unnecessarily personal," rebuked Kaimes,
annoyed.
"That's right. Tramp on your little corns and you
howl."
He intimated that he desired to leave. "My time is
valuable."
"Oh, I know you are a millionaire of seconds and
hours. How disagreeable you are, when I want to be
amused!"
"You have just informed me that I am dull," he
reminded her pointedly.
"So you are; all honest men are dull. Why, I don't
know, unless it is that honesty and wit match as ill
as beauty and brains. Now don't look at your watch
again. I have something to tell you that will make
your clerical hair stand on end."
What could one do with such a whirlwind woman?
The vicar replaced his watch and shrugged resignedly.
She was what she had always been, freakish and un-
certain; but on this occasion more so than ue'naL
An April lady, whimsical and irresponsible, decidedly
rude, and aggravatingly amusing. But Kaimes instinc-
tively felt that at the back of these volleying drifts of
3*


498 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
Smalltalk lurked something serious, which she feared
to handle. Hoping that in time it might be manifested
to his intelligence, he waited patiently, while Leah
scrambled on verbosely in her gabble of nothings.
"You need a London month to pull you together.
Dull country, dull man; dull man, awful bore. Get a
parish in the West End; you'll have howling larks con-
verting Dives and Jezebel of the drawing-room."
"I do not look upon conversion as a lark."
"I do, especially with Jim. Oh, Lord, to think that
he of all people should turn goody-goody. You are
pleased, of course; the sight of the lost black sheep
trotting home to fodder to the fold is"
"I really cannot listen to this talk," said Lionel, rising
quickly.
"Yes, you can. I'll shock you more before I've
done."
Kaimes resumed his seat blankly. "But your
reason?"
Leah jumped up as her visitor sat down, and addressed
nothing in particular.
"He asks for reason, and from a woman," she ex-
claimed. "So like that lame Lord Esbrook; he always
asks what he should not and what he is never likely
to get."
"Reason from women 1"
"And from men, who have still less to spare. But
that's his way. Have you met Lord Esbrook? Such a^
funny walk as he has. Dot and carry one—wooden
leg, you know; dot and carry one—just like this only
much worse "; and Leah limped the length of the room,
mimicking an extraordinary gait so cleverly that Lionel
laughed openly.


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 499
"Though you shouldn't mock at people's infirmities,"
he coughed.
"Why not? Esbrook's a holy show, and with the
spite of the cripple, he spares no one's feelings. He's
the cracked black pot snarling at the kettles he can
never hope to be, with his dot and carry one, dot and
carry one "; and back she came swinging and grunting
with provoking cleverness.
In her gyrations—it seemed from her imitations that
Lord Esbrook gyrated—she overturned the table upon
which rested the covered book. Leah pounced to pick
up the volume, as did Kaimes, out of courtesy. When
he had set the table on its legs he could scarcely re-
frain from glancing casually at the book. It's exterior
was familiar.
"The Bible!" exclaimed an amazed man.
Leah flung herself into the chair, laughing noisily.
"Oh, what a face!" she mocked, pointing a jeering
finger. "Look at yourself, do."
"Were—you—reading the Bible?" asked the vicar,
too astonished to note the poor attempt she made to
force humour.
"Why not ?" said she, defiantly, but with flushes and
quick breaths.
"You only mock."
"The opportunity is so alluring," was her reply.
"There's such an awful lot of rot in that history of
the Jews. And hundreds of impossibilities. Here!"
She seized the Bible and rapidly swept the pages.
"What was I reading when you entered?" The thin
leaves flew and flickered beneath her fingers. "Oh yes!
Something quite too absurd in Matthew."
"St. Matthew."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 501
"If your Master lived to-day, I would go to Palestine!"
she said, looking very directly at him.
"What on earth for?" he asked blankly.
"Can you not understand?"
Her look was that of Medusa, and flickering lights
came and went in her half-lifeless eyes. Their glare,
rather than the toneless notes of her voice, made him
faintly understand. The chosen passage out of St.
Matthew, taken in conjunction with her earlier chatter
of miracles, and her late reference to Palestine, en-
gendered in his brain a horrible, a terrible, an
impossible thought. And yet
"What are you talking about?" he asked harshly.
The cry of a soul on fire broke on his ears. "Yon
brute, when I suffer so I Does it need words?"
"Does what need words?"
She dashed her hand on the open page of the Bible.
"This—this!"
"Augh I" He rose and sat down, with cold hands
and a white face. The meaning of what she meant
crashed like the blow of a bludgeon, and his brain spun
to the shock. "Leah!" he heard himself say, in a
far-away voice like a telephone whisper. Then he
stopped to stare at the quiet woman who sat upright,
with rigid features and tightly clasped binds. "Leah,"
he muttered again, and some indefinable feeling made
bis hair crisp at the roots.
"Yes!" That was all she said, and her lips hardly
moved in the saying.
Kaimes looked aimlessly round the room, and noted
the pattern of the window-curtains. Only the whistling
of the coals, spouting smoke and jetting flame, broke
the stillness. His eyes returned to her face, fair and


502 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
stainless. "Impos—s—sible!" he jerked, his voice
entirely beyond control. "Im "then his nerves
vibrated and his skin crept.
"Three doctors in London, five doctors abroad,
assured me that it is not impossible—unfortunately."
They were like two pale ghosts sitting in the shadows.
Said one ghost to the other: "But have you—are
you a ?" His tongue refused to form either terrible
word.
Leah unexpectedly flung up her arms with a scream,
then brought two shaking hands across her mouth to
stifle that wild note of human pain. Right and left,
up and down, did she look, as though to be certain
that no one was within earshot but the vicar. "It
will never do to let the servants hear," said the rapid
action. Lionel's benumbed brain could not yet take
in wholly the appalling truth—if truth it was. The
leper dropped her hands and looked at him heavily.
"You lying devil," said Leah, slowly.
"What? what? what?" babbled Kaimes, incoherently.
She groaned and rocked with hands palm to palm
between her knee. "I will, be thou clean; I will,
be thou clean." Over and over again did she moan
the words, till they bored into the listener's brain.
"God have mercy!" murmured the man, trying to
be a man. The creeping paralysis of the horror
almost struck him dumb. But he managed by a
violent effort to wet his lips with a stiff tongue, and
made it form certain words: "Are you sure of this?"
"Three doctors," went on the Duchess, rocking and
droning as Demetrius did aforetime—" three doctors,
five doctors, eight doctors in all. They said the same
thing—ugh !—such a beastly thing! It was the truth,


504 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
cannoned against Lionel, and dragged him down into
his chair, clasping his knees, and knocking her forehead
against them. "Where is your Master f" she whimpered.
"Tell Him I'm sorry—really I am sorry. He may cure
me then, as He cured that man long ago. Gentle
Jesus—the children call Him so; He can't be cruel to
me—to me. He can't be cruel to any one, so they
say—ah, they say, they say; but how do I know f
It's not true, it isn't true, and yet if it was—if it
Lionel "She broke off with the squall of a terrified
child, hiding her eyes pitifully. "I'll be good—I'll
be good, if only—only He will do this! It's a little
thing—oh, a very little thing. And you said that He
could—that He, your Master, I mean. Oh! oh ! oh!"
With sobbing breath she unwound her arms and fell
back beating the carpet with open palms. Murmurings
went rhythmically with the padding sound. "I want to
be clean; I want to be clean j I want to be clean."
Kaimes tried to lift her. "Let me summon help."
With a bound she was on her feet, pushing him back.
"Do that and I kill you," she panted, clenching her
hands and facing him furiously. "No one knows but
these doctors—yes, and Katinka, and that fiend
Demetrius. Strange also. If I had Strange here"—
she hammered with closed fists on the vicar's shoulders—
"I would out him into bits; I would blind him somehow;
I would—I would—oh, what would I not do? Why
couldn't he leave that infected beast to die in Siberia? Oh,
the—the—the "She poured forth a torrent of words,
which made the listener grow hot and cold with shame.
Then again she collapsed a3 the chill of a deadly fear
struck at her heart. "I don't want to cue—I don't
want to die I" and against the wall she rocked with


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 505
arms held crosswise over her eyes, swinging, ever
swinging.
The scene was like a nightmare; but by this time
Lionel had the grip of his emotions. "Leah," he said
firmly, and advancing close to the writhing creature,
"you must tell your husband; you must"
Out came her arms with a circular swing, and struck
him fair across the eyes. "Jim doesn't know; Jim must
never know."
He was almost blinded, but persisted. "Leah, some-
thing must be done."
Her voice sank, and with it her rage. "Something
must be done," said she, faintly—" something shall be
done, and—soon."
"What do you mean?" he asked, half under hi*
breath, and half catching at her intention.
She took no notice. "Sit down, please!" said Leah,
quietly, and Kaimes obeyed, since to summon assistance
would only be to precipitate a still more dreadful scene.
The Duchess looked into the mirror and arranged her
hair; also she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief,
and smoothed her wrist-cuffs. When she did speak it
was in the smooth voice of a society hostess asking a
visitor if he took sugar in his tea. "I have made a
fool of myself, Lionel. Eut you must admit that I am
rather severely tried just now."
"Oh, you poor soul!" His tone and look were pitiful.
"Reserve your sympathy till you hear what I have
to say. But first tell me honestly, can Christ cure
me?"
"Yes—if it is His WilL"
"Then let Him."
"You must have Faith."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 509
The vicar guessed her meaning, and violently threw
off the weakness with which her story had infected his
manhood. "I forbid you to heap crime upon crime,"
said he, firmly and insistently.
"I shall do what I like. Do not dictate to me, if you
please."
"But God"
"I don't believe in God."
"You do; you must. Does not this shameful punish-
ment which has overtaken you in the hour of triumph
declare the anger of a great and terrible God."
"No!" Her expression was mulish.
"Woman! woman I Kneel and ask for mercy."
"I won't ask for mercy when I'm being treated so
badly. Never! never! Just when things were going
so smoothly, too; the money coming in by the bushel,
and Demetrius out of the way. I call it a shame; it's
mean, spiteful, cruel. I intended to have such a jolly
time, and now—now "Her voice faltered and broke.
She swung with a groan to one side of the chair, hiding
her face and breathing heavily. That deadly fear of the
inevitable would grip her, do what she would.
"Leah "—Kaimes' voice shook a trifle—" God is very
good to you."
Her eyes stared at him bleakly. "Very good?"
"We are put into this world, not for the pampering
of the flesh, but that we may learn through trouble
how to become more spiritual. Our souls are of God,
and to God they must return, rising through much
tribulation to His necessary perfection. Sorrows are
sent for the flesh to bear; not as punishments, but as
lessons to be learned. Of our vices, says St. Augustine,
we can frame a ladder to ascend heavenward, if we but


Sio LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
tread them beneath our feet. This you have never
known."
"And I do not know it now."
"From your dreadful trouble will come the know-
ledge; in this way alone can humility come. God, out
of loving pity for your unbending pride, which prevents
the Holy Spirit from entering your heart, has beaten
you to your knees. On your knees, then, ask for mercy,
for light, for purification of your unclean soul. God's
staff, which He gives to all in life's pilgrimage, has
changed into a rod. He gave you all things, and you
used His gifts to glorify the flesh. Now in His infinite
love has He sent trouble"
w I've brought that upon myself."
"For your amendment it was permitted that you
should do so. Out of your pleasant vices have you
made whips to lash yourself. The wages of sin is
death; you have sinned, and the wages—oh, Leah,
Leah, bitterly cruel as it may seem to you, I rejoice
that the wages should be so paid."
"You are a Job's comforter, I must say," said the
Duchess, sullenly.
"Because I can see how this tribulation of the flesh
can save your soul alive. God might have struck you
dead in your wickedness, and with justice, for your
wilful sin. Instead of doing so, He has given you a
lingering disease, that you should be brought to acknow-
ledge His power and also have time to repent."
"There is nothing to repent of."
"Shame! shame! Even from a worldly point of
view you have sinned grossly; how much blacker, then,
are your deeds in God's sight! But they can be made
white; the past can be wiped out by sincere sorrow."


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 511
Leah twisted her hands above her head with a cry
of impotent rage. "How can I repent, when I do not
even feel sorry?"
"You will not ask Christ to help yon. Repentance is
a gift, as is Faith. He will give both, and His undying
Love, if you will but confess your sin."
"I have done so—to you."
"Who am powerless. Confess it to Christ; weep as
did Mary at His wounded feet. Hard as is your heart,
He will melt it; soiled as is your soul, He will cleanse
it. Now—now, when human aid is vain, now is the
appointed time. Repent and be saved!"
"If I try to, will He—will He cure me?"
"That question I cannot, dare not answer. TTia
mercy is infinite."
"You say that to me, knowing what I suffer."
"I say it to you who suffer. In no other way could
the Spirit have brought you to the mercy-seat."
"He has not brought me now," she persisted
obstinately.
Lionel fell on his knees and caught her restless hands.
"Oh, your poor, sinful soul, for which Christ died!"
he cried passionately; "to whom can you go but to
God? Doctors cannot cure you; He can, if it be His
will. He may even make your flesh clean."
"Ah! And that question you declined to answer a
minute or two back. Besides, you denied that miracles
could take place."
"I did not. No one ever came in vain to our Blessed
Lord, when He walked the earth some two thousand
years ago. As was His power then, so is it now. He
loved in those days, He loves now. Sitting on God's
right hand, He is ready to succour the vilest. His arm


512 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
is not shortened, His pity is not exhausted. In mercy
He may even cure you of this dreadful disease, as He
cured the afflicted man we read of. Only acknowledge
that God is mightier than you are; only bow to the
rod, only admit your sin, only cry for pardon."
"If He will cure me "she began, wavering.
M That you must leave to His love and wisdom. Cure
you He may; permit you to suffer, He may see fit.
But save your soul, He can. That much I can swear
to,"
"I want this horrible thing cured," she cried
passionately.
"To continue in your sins? To soil your soul anew f"
"No! no I If I repent"
"Repentance includes submission. God may not see
fit to cure you; it may be your punishment—and I
think it is—to bear this woeful cross, which if rightly
borne may lead you to the light of lights. The flesh!
The flesh! You but think of the flesh, of the passing
world, of the vanities of life, of the enjoyment of the
senses. From these things God would lead you away
to contemplate spiritual realities, and the appointed
path has been made known. Bear your cross—oh, my
dear, bear your cross, and endure to the end that you
may be saved. Terrible as it may seem, this evil,
whence good will arise, has removed you from temptation.
If you live secluded"
"Dying piecemeal," she cried, in a frenzy of anger,
and wrenched away her hands. "No, no; I will not
live. I will die—die. At least I can do that."
"As did Judas! Leah, if you cannot bear your
punishment in the flesh, how will you endure it in the
spirit? Live for Christ, and what matters the world?"


514 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
last time, therefore, did she set her wits to plot for
the ego.
- Lionel," said she, hesitatingly, "will you send for
The vicar's face lighted up. He saw in this request
what she meant him to see, a sign of yielding. "You
will let me tell him 1"
Leah nodded. "There is a doctor in Vienna," she
whispered, inventing recklessly with the cunning of one
driven to bay; "he has found out a cure, I hear. If
Jim will take me over"
"I'll telegraph to Hengist Castle at once," cried
Kaimes, making for the door impetuously.
"And come back to dinner," said she, following, "I
can't pass the evening alone."
"I shall come."
"But you won't frighten me any more with this
religious talk?"
Lionel pressed her hand sadly. "I have done what
I could, Leah. Only the Holy Spirit can bring home
conviction to your heart. Try and pray."
"Yes," assented the Duchess, submissively; "it is all
that is left."
"Then the better part, which cannot be taken away,
is left."
He went away quite deceived, since she had suggested
the Viennese physician so calmly. He thought that
she still hoped desperately, and for all he knew the
hope might be fulfilled, seeing the present-day resources
of science. Certainly he never dreamed how she bad
hoodwinked him, and so sped on his errand of mercy,
leaving behind him a woman too broken to exult in the
success of her final piece of trickery.
Jim!


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 515
It was all over. Man could do nothing; God would
do nothing. As Demetrius had been smitten for the
crime she had induced him to commit, so was she
being punished for the evil she had called into being.
Lionel had talked nonsense, of course; but he left
behind him a feeling in her mind that the God he
worshipped did exist. How the belief had come into
her heart, she could not say; but it was certainly there.
Try as she might, with all the strength of her brilliant
intellect, she knew that never again could she be an
atheist. God existed to her comprehension at last. But
the newly-conceived Deity was not the Father of love
and light. Rather did He appear an omnipotent tyrant,
who had driven her to bad courses by giving her tastes
she was unable to satisfy, and who now punished her
for acting as the nature He had given her dictated.
She was like a mouse in the claws of a cat, and could
no more escape than could the tormented little beast.
Only to the height of acknowledging that Something
much stronger than herself existed could she rise; and
her submission was as that of Caliban to Prospero.
Wrenched violently from the egotistic wrappings of her
soul, she—the true self, the immortal spirit—stood
naked and shamed, yet defiant. She submitted, because
only submission was left. But all her flesh shouted
furiously against its victor.
Then, again, as the tormented soul strove to overcome
the lower material self, did she recall Lionel's words.
God was love, he declared, and in love had God broken
her shield of self, snapped her sword of desire. Cer-
tainly, now that this world could do nothing for her,
she would be forced to seek the other. There she might
learn how to rise from darkness into light. That the


516 LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET
spiritual existed she was now reluctantly convinced; that
a study of its meaning would bring her peace she could
not be certain. Of course, it was early days yet. She
had gained a great step by the admission that God
reigned, even though lie had proved it to her so
cruelly. It might be that by endless striving she would
learn something of His love before Death ended her
intolerable sufferings. God ordered her to fly; was it
worth while to trust to Him for wings?
The struggle of the soul wavering between hell and
heaven might have ended in the victory of the latter,
and Leah might have consented with bitter tears to
bear the cross laid upon her shrinking shoulders. But
while wearily pacing the room a chance glance showed
her in the mirror that beauty of which she had been,
and was, so proud. Leaning her arms on the mantel-
piece, she examined every detail lovingly and long.
Could she bear to see that gradually disappear? Could
she accept life as a Thing and not as a Being? Those
blue eyes would grow dull and animal; that glorious
hair would drop off; that complexion of cream and
roses would—would Ugh! ugh I
"No I no! no I" The rebellious cry of the flesh as-
cended to the stars. "It must never be—never."
All that she knew herself to be revolted against the
alow wasting agony that would most surely come, to
reduce that splendour of her beautiful body to the dust,
dishonoured and shamed. To save herself from such
infamy it but needed an overdose of chloral. Then in
the pride of her loveliness she would pass away pain-
lessly, without disfigurement, triumphant in a minor
degree, at least. With all the indomitable strength of
a will that had been only thwarted by Him who had


LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET 517
created that will, did she resolve to snatch this one
poor laurel-leaf from the Almighty Victor. Turning
from the mirror, she felt that her mind was steeled, that
Self was not entirely defeated. After all, her uncon-
querable will would win.
"To-night," she whispered to her shivering soul,
"when I go to bed. An overdose of chloral, and then,
when I awaken "She stopped, with the chills of
death at her heart. "Oh," was her despairing ad-
mission; "You are the stronger!"
It was the cry of the flesh making sullen submission.
In vain did the soul piteously beg that its tabernacle
might yet hold it a little while, for the purging of its
sin. The flesh would not hear. Beaten, conquered,
shamed, tormented, its petty triumph could yet be
obtained in this hour of defeat. And the terrified soul,
sobbing unheeded, waited for the rapidly approaching
hoar which would send it forth disembodied—whither f


CHAPTER XXXV
4 We regret to announce to our readers the unexpected
demise of the Duchess of Pentland at Firmingham,
Essex. According to the Rev. Lionel Kaimes, who
dined with her Grace on the evening of her death, she
was in the very best of health and spirits. The un-
fortunate lady retired at a comparatively early hour,
and was found dead in the morning by her maid. A
brief examination proved that death was due to an
overdose of chloral, which her Grace was in the habit
of taking when suffering from sleeplessness. The Duke
of Pentland, who was expected at Firmingham, arrived
shortly after the painful discovery, to be greeted by the
disastrous intelligence.
"The loss of this highly popular lady will be greatly
felt in high circles. Her beauty and wit were excep-
tional, and only to be surpassed by her truly kind heart.
It may be well said that she lived to make others happy.
To the unfortunate her purse was always open, and
to the afflicted her soothing presence was a welcome
relief. Again and again did she sacrifice herself in
the cause of charity; and in many ways unknown to
the public did she do good by stealth. Her graceful
presence will be much missed at various great functions
during the coming winter season; but it is the poor
and needy who will most keenly feel the loss of one
Si8





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million people. With a strong heart interest, brimful of
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Kt popularity as a play must give the book an immense sain,
o. doth bound, with frontispiece illustration, $1.25.


CEVOTA
By Augusta Evans Wilson. A poignant tragedy .u I
two persons—a man -f sterling character and a proud ^
who are separated through a misunderstanding and kept apart
by the woman's obstinacy, only to become reconciled after
many years by the woman mastering her pride at the dictate*
of humanity, coming to the man she has wronged to plead for
a criminal's pnrdon. This beautiful story is properly classed
as a literary cameo. 12mo, beautifully printed in two colon,
illustrated from f -ur color drawings by Stuart Travis, richly
bound in doth, $1.60.
THE ROCK OF CHICKAMAUGA
By General Charles King. An historical story of the Civil War
in which General George H. Thomas, the ideal soldier, is the
central figure. This is General King's masterpiece. The
actual facts and details of the story cover several years of
careful work of what has been to the author a labor of love.
12mo, cloth bound, illustrated, 81.50.
THE MAKING OF A SUCCESSFUL HUSBAND
By Casper S. Yost. Neither a text book nor a story, but a series
of letters from a father to bis son. In it are the practical
questions of "spending and saving," "boarding or keeping
house," "the wife's allowance," "dollars and debts," "the
wife's relations," etc. It is filled with witty epigrams. It is
a book that should find a place in every home. 12mo, cloth
bound, $1.00.
THE MAKING OF A SUCCESSFUL WIFE
By Casper S. Yost. A companion book to "The Making of a
Successful Husband." With the same quaint humor and
homely wisdom that characterized his letters to his son in
"The Making of a Successful Husband," John Sneed has
written to his daughter. In a series of ten fatherly communi-
cations he gives her the results of his experience and observa-
tion. His advice is sage and practical. Being a man he
naturally looks at the subject from a man's standpoint, a view
which no woman can possibly secure of herself. 12mo, cloth
bound, $1.00.
ByW.B.M.Ferguson. Ai ,,
Garrison, the jockey, is accused of "throwing a race," but in
the end vindicates himself and rides a remarkable race, winning
favor and fortune and the girl he loves. Illustrations by
Charles Grunwald. 12mo. beautifully bound in cloth, $1.50



By B. M. Bower. From the opening chapter to its last page a»
critic pronounces it as "equal if not better than the
l'" The same of B. M. Bower will stand for
j readable in the estimation of every man and almost
every woman who reads this story of Montana ranch and its
dwellers. Illustrated, 12mof cloth bound, $1.25.
THE RANGE DWELLERS. A Thrilling Western Story
By B. M. Bower, author of "Chip of the Flying U." It is a
thoroughly live story, with plenty of local color well laid on.
Its people have marked characteristics, its scenes change
rapidly, it possesses breeziness and a wealth of wholesome love,
and its conclusion is satisfying. 12mo, cloth bound, illus-
trated, $1.25.
HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT
By B. M. Bower, author of "Chip of the Flying U," "The Range
Dwellers," etc. A breezy, western ranch story. It sparkles
in reproducing the atmosphere of the West. Strong heart
interest and a beautifully pictured love story make it a most
charming book and a nt companion to "Chip" and "The
Range Dwellers." 12mo, cloth bound, with illustrations in
three colors, $1.25.
THE LURE OF THE DIM TRAILS
By B. M. Bower, author of "Chip of the Flying U," "Her Prairie
Knight," "The Range Dwellers," etc. A living, breathing
story of the West, out beyond the Mississippi, where the trails
of men are dim and far apart. This is the best story that the
author of "Chip of the Flying U " has written, and the three
full-page three-color drawings, and over thirty pen and ink mar-
ginal pictures by Charles M. Russell (the cowboy artist), with
which the book is embellished, make it a handsome book.
12mo, cloth bound, decorative cover, $1.50.
WHERE THE RED VOLLEYS POURED. A Romance
of the Civil War
By Charles W. Dahlinger. The patriotism, chivalry, and romance
of the most eventful period in American history, vividly
presented in the character and experiences of a typical soldier
of the time—Paul Didier, a German revolutionary exile, who
enlists in the Union cause. The story begins with reminiscence
of the same nature and in the same charming vein as Carl
Schurz's recent autobiography. It insidiously develops into a
love romance, which is complicated by the hero's provoking
susceptibility to feminine charms. A solution is finally reached
amid the thunders of Gettysburg, a battle which the author
, doth.
describes with the pen of a dmmatic historian. 12mo,


TRAFFIC. The Story of a Faithful Woman
By E. Temple Thurston, author of "The Apple of Eden." Do
you want to meet a character that will hold your sympathies
spellbound? Do you want to come face to face with some of
the knotty, searching problems of our modern life? The reader
will find all this in "Traffic," one of the biggest and most com-
piling stories of the past decade. Throughout Nanno Troy's
fife problem is interwoven that question which is to-day of suoh
absorbing interest: the attitude of the Church toward divorce.
In no work of modern fiction is this attitude and its tendencies
more graphically portrayed. 12mo, cloth bound, $1.90.
THE STORY OF PAUL JOPTES
By Alfred Henry Lewis. Thousands and tens of thousands
should welcome this charming historical romance. It is a
great story of the fortunes of the intrepid sailor whose remains
are now in America. A story that should find a place ita every
library, for it is the best book that Mr. Lewis has yet produced.
It has a grip and a fascination that will last long after the
reader has emerged from its delightful spell. 12mo, cloth
bound, illustrated, $1.00.
TONIO, SON OF THE SIERRAS
By General Charles King. This thrilling frontier story has for its
•entral figure a young army girl with two lovers, brother
officers and classmates, and an Indian chief of the Chief Joseph
type, honorable, incorruptible, but dragged, as was Joseph,
into a net of testimony and intrigue that nearly wrecked him.
12mo, cloth bound, illustrated, $1.50.
THE LINCOLN STORY BOOK
Compiled by Henry L. Williams. A judicious collection of the
best stories and anecdotes of the great President, many, of the
more than 600, appearing herein for the first time. 12mo, 320
pages, cloth bound, $1.50 net. Postage 14 cents.
WHAT'S IN A DREAM. A Scientific and Practical
Interpretation of Dreams
By Gustavus Hindmsn Miller. The most complete and exhaustive
work that has ever been written on this subject—it contains
over 10,000 dreams. The author has used material from the
Bible, classical sources, and medieval and modern philosophers.
Quotations have been made from Camille Flammarion's "Un-
known." The Preface is a valuable feature of the book and
touches in an interesting way, on the metaphysical New
thought School. 12mo, 600 pages, ototh bound, $1.50.


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