FELICITY CROFTON
 
 (See page s 
 
 'I LOVE YOUTH AND ALL THINGS THAT ARE HEALTHY AND 
 STRONG AND BEAUTIFUL"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 BY 
 
 MARGUERITE BRYANT 
 
 (Mrs. Philip Munn) 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 "CHRISTOPHER HIBBAULT: ROADMAKER" 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DUFFIELD & COMPANY 
 1916
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY 
 DUFFIELD & COMPANY
 
 TO 
 
 CATHERINE 
 
 2134217
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 I. "When we set out to make new friends, we truly 
 
 set on a great adventure" 3 
 
 II. "He who is enmeshed in love's toils must expect to 
 
 find his sight grow hazy in the glamour" . . 50 
 
 III. "The man of her choice" 75 
 
 IV. "It is a poor achievement that does not bring content 
 
 in its train" 98 
 
 V. "Stella" 116 
 
 VI. "Every straw shows the way the wind blows" . . 135 
 VII. "That inevitable point in life when the past and fu- 
 ture bending to each other touch issues" . . 162 
 VIII. "It is the first duty of a friend to stand by us at 
 
 need" 180 
 
 IX. "Now I must deceive my friend or shatter his 
 
 future" 214 
 
 X. "Is this too hard that I ask of my friend, that he 
 should believe in me through good and ill re- 
 port" 234 
 
 XI. An understanding between two 249 
 
 XII. "The feet of a true friend are swifter than rumour" 277 
 
 XIII. Mark intervenes 304 
 
 XIV. "Show me the man who will shirk no responsibility, 
 
 "who will judge me by my virtues as well as by 
 my faults, who will ever expect me to act up to 
 the highest that is within me, and I will make of 
 him a friend that shall last till I need friendship 
 no more." ,.,,..,,. 321
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 'I love youth and all things that are healthy and strong 
 and beautiful." (See page 52.) . . . Frontispiece 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 'You said yourself one should let the past be past," she 
 entreated 170 
 
 'Give me that, please, Adam" 218 
 
 "She stood still, watching his approach" .... 306
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 "When We Set Out to Make New Friends, 
 We Truly Set Out on a Great Adventure." 
 
 IT was winter. Not the spurious winters of late years 
 seasons of rain, and mouldy dampness but a time 
 of snow, frost, and a cold so penetrating that it found 
 a lodging even in the warmest corner of Bath. Christ- 
 mas itself had been mild enough. It was not till 
 the year was a month old that he bestirred himself 
 to answer the gibes flung at his failing powers by 
 a demonstration that his mantle was still white and 
 his crown still of icicles if so it pleased him. 
 
 The hills round the city had snow-clad summits, 
 giving an oddly expanded look to the country. The 
 big grey stone building that headed a combe to the 
 south of the city looked a dirty drab before the virgin 
 whiteness of the wide spaces. At the bottom of the 
 combe there was a little lake spanned by an orna- 
 mental bridge, and standing there, looking up the 
 hill, one could see the big building outlined against 
 a faint blue sky. The skirting woods bent their snow- 
 laden branches to the earth, and the mid-day sun, 
 pouring down on it all, bedecked them with a myriad 
 jewels. 
 
 The first smooth whiteness of the snowy slope had 
 
 3
 
 4 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 been broken by toboggan runners, and a wide track 
 of crumpled snow to the left of the bridge testified 
 to many spills. The track was empty for the mo- 
 ment, though up at the top, under the shadow of 
 the wide steps, two figures were busy with a toboggan. 
 
 There was a man on the ornamental bridge below, 
 smoking and well content. He found the keen air 
 pleasant; he liked the sun, he liked the snow, he liked 
 his own idleness, and very much he liked his return 
 to the scene of his first introduction to his own mental 
 powers and to the possibilities of friendship other- 
 wise than that of kinship. Alexander Fraser, who 
 ruled in the big house above him, had proved a good 
 friend in those early lonely days, and later on a wise 
 mentor. No other man had done so much for him. 
 He was the dearest of men to revisit Bessington 
 reproached himself for the faint shade of discontent 
 which had been his when he had landed again from 
 Cape Town two weeks ago and realised that after all 
 he had no more intimate place to spend the generous 
 vacation he intended to give himself than his lonely 
 and long-deserted chambers in the Temple, or Priest's 
 Park. He had tried the Temple first, not wishing to 
 intrude too quickly on his old master, but after a day 
 or two's idle attempts to make his old rooms habitable 
 once more, he had found them a barren resting place, 
 and had arrived here the previous evening to find him- 
 self at home! 
 
 It was exasperating to think how little he had appre- 
 ciated Mr. Fraser in the old days when he had been 
 the practically one guardian of his youth ! Some such 
 thoughts were trickling through his mind, but his out- 
 ward attention was given to the two figures at the 
 top of the combe, who had now arranged their sledge 
 and were at the point of starting. 
 
 The little toboggan moved, stuck, and then, with 
 a breathless rush, flew down on its own track, ignoring
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 5 
 
 those already made for it. With a rush it tore down 
 right to the watcher's feet, saw him, apparently, and, 
 after the manner of toboggans, shied violently and 
 shot its occupants both out into a snow heap with 
 undignified haste ; then it swung round and pointed its 
 blunt nose upwards towards its starting place. 
 
 Its two late passengers were laughing too helplessly 
 to help themselves, and Bessington hastened to the res- 
 cue. He assisted the first to her feet. They were 
 both of the petticoated sex. Both were radiant with 
 delight and enjoyment of their upset. It was not 
 till he had helped the second one out of the snow 
 drift, that he realised that this one at least was quite 
 young and the other well, he was frankly puzzled ! 
 
 She was brushing the snow off her dress and laugh- 
 ing with the gaiety of a girl of eighteen. She was 
 slight to thinness and her hair had a pretty wave in 
 it, but the kind, laughing eyes that met his as 
 he looked up from brushing the snow from the sec- 
 ond adventurer's dress were not those of a girl. 
 
 "Thank you ever so much," she said, with surpris- 
 ing friendliness; "it was all Veronica's fault. She 
 steered so badly!" 
 
 Veronica turned to him with a little despairing ges- 
 ture. 
 
 "Isn't that too bad! You were watching 1 . Did I 
 steer badly?" 
 
 He was truthfully able to confess that they had 
 come too fast for him to judge. In any case he was 
 too blinded by the beauty of the girl to judge of 
 anything for the moment but that particular fact. 
 
 Veronica was lovely, just as the day was lovely, 
 with its white virginity and its sparkling robe backed 
 by the blue sky. He did not put it to himself like 
 that : he merely formulated the thought that here was 
 the prettiest girl he had ever seen. 
 
 The elder lady arranged her suede cap. "We'll each
 
 of us try alone," she announced, "and whichever of us 
 comes down without a spill will have the best of the 
 argument. Only you must take your own sledge up. 
 Veronica, unless Mr. Bessington will do it for you." 
 
 Bessington, with his mind slightly reeling before 
 her assured use of his name, was only too pleased. 
 He was at grips with the fact that he must at least 
 have heard of this lady before, though the mental 
 image he had formed of "Mrs. Crofton" was so pre- 
 posterously unlike the reality that he could not with- 
 out dire confusion dissentangle the label. 
 
 She seemed to guess his difficulty. "I know you 
 are Dominic Bessington," she said, "because Alex- 
 ander told me you were coming last night. I am 
 Mrs. Crofton, his sister, and this is Veronica, my 
 daughter." 
 
 Veronica extended her hand in a friendly fashion. 
 
 "Come along," was her gay command, "if you are 
 really going to be an angel. I hate pulling a toboggan 
 up this hill, and Madre won't do it for me." 
 
 He obediently made an angel of himself with a 
 good grace. She climbed the hill beside him, disre- 
 garding its steepness and the snow in a way to prove 
 that her dislike for pulling up her toboggan was not 
 due to physical disability. She went on talking with 
 the easy friendliness that went to his head. 
 
 "Of course," she was saying when he became 
 poised, "it's not like Switzerland, and I'm out of 
 practice. Madre wouldn't go out there this year be- 
 cause of Uncle Alexander. We have been here three 
 years now, and he has often talked of you, but you 
 have never come before." 
 
 Bessington explained he had been abroad. 
 
 Most certainly he had known that his old master's 
 sister and niece had come to live in the little house 
 adjoining the college. He had hazy recollections con- 
 cerning things he had heard of these relations of Mr,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 7 
 
 Fraser vague impressions of a middle-aged woman 
 in black with a keen wit and many theories, and a 
 daughter brought up on the said theories. Such was 
 the mental image which for inexplicable reasons had 
 lodged itself in his brain, and until it could be obliter- 
 ated he must put up with this feeling of confusion. 
 
 "Madre is better than I," Veronica confessed ; "she 
 never loses her head. Still, it was all your fault. I 
 did not expect to see any one there, and I tried to see 
 who it was." 
 
 "I apologise! Had I know, no, had I known, I 
 should have been there all the same." 
 
 She laughed. It was a most delightfully infectious 
 little laugh. 
 
 "They will be all out tobogganing presently," she 
 told him, with a glance at the house above, "but Madre 
 won't let me come then. She says I should bother 
 them. She always insists that the boys don't want 
 women-kind always round them. However, I couldn't 
 come later, anyway, as I have a singing lesson." 
 
 By now they had reached the top of the slope, and 
 he arranged the little sledge for her and held it while 
 she settled herself on it. 
 
 "There's no one but your mother down there now," 
 he reminded her, "so you ought to get down safely. 
 Good luck!" 
 
 He started the sledge with a vigorous push, and 
 it shot down with the speed of three express trains 
 rolled into one, guided well till just at the end, when, 
 as far as Bessington could see, for no reason or 
 just cause, it turned right over, landed its occupant in 
 the convenient drift, and turned its supercilious nose 
 upward again, challenging fresh competition. 
 
 He ran down towards them and met Mrs. Crofton 
 coming up, dragging the toboggan, of which he re- 
 lieved her. 
 
 "She holds me to the challenge," was her laugh-
 
 8 
 
 ing comment; "if I have a spill it will be bad for 
 authority !" 
 
 "What made Miss Crofton capsize?" 
 
 "She waved her hands to me. That's so like Veron- 
 ica; she never keeps her attention quite fixed till the 
 end! How do you think Alexander is looking, Mr. 
 Bessington? You know he has been ill?" 
 
 He took surreptitious glances at her as they talked, 
 hazarding mental guesses at her age, to suit both the 
 exigencies of Veronica and the appearance of Veron- 
 ica's mother, and found it difficult. That older faulty 
 impression, however, was beginning to wear thin. Mrs. 
 Crofton was not middle aged; a decade separated 
 her from her brother, and there was no suggestion 
 of a widow in her dress, which was of brown, with 
 a touch of blue. He remembered now the widow- 
 hood dated from at least seventeen years back. Mr. 
 Fraser's sister was likely to be clever, but he might 
 have known it would not be the pedantic cleverness 
 of the mere scholar, but rather the wide intelligence 
 of an open mind. 
 
 The fine lines of her face just tended towards angu- 
 larity, but the angle made for health and strength and 
 there was a glow under her rather tanned skin and 
 a vigour in her step and carriage that overrode 
 by at least ten years the total that Veronica's exist- 
 ence demanded of her. It was only when her eyes 
 met his that he clearly perceived she was a woman and 
 no girl. They were so understanding, so brave, so 
 full of knowledge. He talked to her already as to 
 one he had known for long. 
 
 "I came so late last night," he explained, "that 
 I have hardly seen Mr. Eraser yet." 
 
 She caught the faint little hesitation before the 
 name and looked down with a quaint smile. 
 
 "Don't you call him Fafner?" she asked innocently, 
 "or is that since your day?"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 9 
 
 Bessington laughed. 
 
 "No, I believe I was godfather. He took me to 
 hear Wagner one summer and that was the net re- 
 sult." 
 
 "It's very appropriate. Now you must start me." 
 
 He gave her a send off like Veronica's and watched 
 her slide away in the distance. Veronica at the bot- 
 tom of the slope was dancing with excitement and 
 unfilial hopes that her mother would land in a heap 
 at her feet. But Mrs. Crofton did no such thing. 
 She adroitly guided the sledge across the track of 
 level land, came to a dignified standstill, rose, and 
 turned to her daughter for approval. 
 
 "That's very dull," pronounced Veronica, "and you 
 have had more practice than I have." 
 
 "I never got on a toboggan till our winter in Vervey. 
 It's all a matter of keeping one's head. Your cap 
 is all crooked, child! Let's take Mr. Bessington for 
 a walk." 
 
 Veronica called out to the latter as he approached 
 with congratulations, "Madre says you are to come 
 for a walk!" 
 
 He had not the slightest objection. In the course 
 of the walk Bessington learnt that Mrs. Crofton and 
 her daughter had lived, that is to say, they had pos- 
 sessed a house and were not mere hotel sojourners, in 
 France, Switzerland, Italy and Sweden, and that the 
 three years spent here in Bath were the longest sta- 
 tionary residence that Veronica remembered. Appar- 
 ently they went from one to another of their homes 
 as occasion or mood called them, returning to Eng- 
 land when the wish was with them or business de- 
 manded. 
 
 "I've sold the little house in Sweden," Mrs. Crofton 
 confessed, with a sigh, "because I had such a good 
 offer for it." 
 
 Veronica pouted, "Of all the silly reasons!"
 
 io FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "But you can't live in five or six houses!" pro- 
 tested Bessington. 
 
 "Not at once. But five or six houses to suit dif- 
 ferent moods and weather are convenient, don't you 
 think ? I let them when I'm not there. I have always 
 wanted one in Spain, but Veronica is already so lazy 
 that I'm afraid to venture." 
 
 Veronica declared she would not be libelled. 
 
 "Where Madre really wants to go," she remarked 
 confidentially, "is to the far end of the Black Sea. 
 She believes adventures lurk there in every port, and 
 though she loves adventures she doesn't think I'm old 
 enough for them." 
 
 "You certainly are not, and you are a dreadful 
 tie," sighed her mother. "Mr. Bessington, please be- 
 lieve I can talk sense when this child is not by." 
 
 "I am not complaining at all, thank you!" he said 
 gravely. 
 
 It might be all very silly and pointless, but it made 
 for good fellowship. 
 
 Presently Mrs. Crofton surprised him again. 
 
 "I am so glad you decided after all to come back 
 to England Alexander is confident that with your 
 fresh South African connection you will do well. 
 After all you are English, and belong to the English 
 Bar." 
 
 Bessington, acutely aware he had no one nearer 
 him than Mr. Fraser to be pleased, was curiously 
 gratified at her interest and knowledge of his affairs, 
 and then wondered why he was not displeased. He 
 did not, as a rule, take the world into his confi- 
 dence. 
 
 "I went out there when I was six," he remarked. 
 
 "And came back when you were sixteen. And 
 Alexander met you." 
 
 "Yes, my brother had written to him, hoping he 
 would remember my father."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON n 
 
 "It was your mother whom he remembered," said 
 Mrs. Crofton softly; "your brother knew that!" 
 
 Bessington was silent. Again he was debating why 
 he was not displeased. 
 
 "And your brother had, with the best intention, 
 sent you to a perfectly beastly school, and Alexander 
 took you away and brought you here, and here you 
 stayed till you went to Oxford and then the bar 
 You see, I know all about you!" 
 
 "You at least know how much I owe your brother." 
 
 A little shadow fell on her face. 
 
 "You don't mind my knowing, do you?" she asked 
 wistfully. "I think the debt is still on his side. He 
 loves all his boys, but they all have people of their 
 own, whereas with you he could pretend you belonged 
 to him." 
 
 "He was the best friend a boy or man could have !" 
 He spoke brusquely, even roughly, and she nodded 
 and spoke of other things. Yet, later on, he found 
 he had told her more of himself told her, for ex- 
 ample, much of that odd life of his as a child on 
 the veldt, with an invalid father who had sacrificed 
 all that had made his life worth living to him, clubs, 
 friends, and London, to add a few more years to his 
 unduly shortened span and had spent those few years 
 thus gained, in weary longing for all he had sac- 
 rificed. He had spoken of his elder brother, who had 
 managed the farm ably enough, yet hating it as his 
 father had hated it, and who, when the hour of his 
 release had come, was too old to seek new springs 
 of life, though he had seen to it that this younger 
 brother should escape back into the civilisation that 
 was his birthright. 
 
 She knew far more than this knew how, just when 
 he had by happy chance and real ability combined, 
 got his feet on the ladder of success, he had been 
 back to Africa by the brother, then dying, ami
 
 12 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 had loyally responded, and how the past two years 
 had been spent out there unravelling a tangle of neg- 
 lected affairs, to the detriment of his career at the 
 English bar. There had been a possibility of his stop- 
 ping out there, of even reaping a quick success, but 
 he hated South Africa. It meant to him a land of 
 struggles, failure, disappointment, and it had swal- 
 lowed up the three lives that were bound to him by 
 blood and affection. In England he had had at least 
 friends. So he had returned, and brought with him 
 a modicum of work that, with luck, might again put 
 success within reach. And she knew also better than 
 he did, how well Alexander Fraser had remembered 
 his mother, and how much of his generous affection 
 he had given to her son. Her interest, indeed, in 
 Dominic Bessington had deep springs. 
 
 On their return they passed the north front of the 
 house, and about half a dozen young men were stand- 
 ing on the steps of the big portico. They were 
 mostly bare-headed, and most of them were smoking. 
 They all gave Bessington's companions a quaint little 
 salute as they passed, and Veronica waved her hand 
 to them. 
 
 One ran after them a fair-haired and extremely 
 good-looking boy with a complexion that would have 
 done credit to a girl. 
 
 "Madre!" he cried, and she turned back. 
 
 "Well, Eve?" 
 
 The other two went on. Bessington fancied that 
 Mrs. Crofton looked rather thoughtful when she re- 
 joined them. 
 
 "What did he want, Madre?" enquired Veronica, 
 as she swung open the gate leading to their own 
 grounds. 
 
 "Mark wants to come to tea, and asked Eve to look 
 out for us,"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 13 
 
 She seemed aware that Bessington had stopped. 
 
 "Come in," she said hospitably. "You and Alex- 
 ander are dining here to-night, but that's no reason 
 why you shouldn't make acquaintance with the Haven 
 in daylight." 
 
 "It used not to be called the Haven." 
 
 "I rechristened it. It was called the Dell. It makes 
 a convenient headquarters, because when I am away 
 Alexander looks after it more or less." 
 
 "Madre!" 
 
 "Well, rather more than less." 
 
 They crossed the terraced garden, where in sum- 
 mer roses bloomed in profusion. The snow had been 
 swept from the paved walk right up to the front door 
 of the quaint little timbered house, which Bessington 
 remembered as a ramshackled eyesore to the great 
 mansion beside it. Some clever hand and mind had 
 transformed it into a home and a garden, and the ir- 
 regular sloping fields that surrounded it into terraced 
 walks, where evidently in summer a prodigious wealth 
 of flowers flourished. The low long windows to the 
 south looked out over the combe to the beautiful grey 
 city lying in her cradle of hills, placid and dream- 
 like, with ever a thin filmy mist over her face. 
 
 Veronica, running on ahead, flung open the door 
 and stood waiting on the threshold to drop them an 
 absurd little curtsey of welcome, and Bessington, look- 
 ing at her, was again aware of strange breathlessness 
 before her extreme loveliness. 
 
 The house was quite small. There was a hall be- 
 yond the porch which was evidently used as a sitting- 
 room, and a room opening from it which was presum- 
 ably the drawing-room, but which Veronica alluded 
 to as "Madre's room." The dining-room was beyond 
 the hall, facing west. It was all furnished with ex- 
 treme simplicity, though there was a gratifying supply 
 of books and easy chairs and a general atmosphere of
 
 u 
 
 friendliness. Bessington was glad they were to dine 
 there that night. 
 
 He did not stay long now only long enough to 
 observe that Mrs. Crofton shared her brother's taste 
 for beauty of rather an austere type, and that Veronica 
 had a preference for subtle harmonies of warm origin. 
 It was not till long afterwards he took in the fact 
 that there was nothing in the house, either as wall 
 decorations or hangings, that was not calculated to be 
 a suitable background for Veronica herself. There 
 was nothing, however, austere about Veronica. 
 
 II 
 
 Mrs. Crofton turned her back on the tea table and 
 sat gazing into the fire. The curtains were still un- 
 drawn, and the fire light, reflected in the little leaded 
 panes, seemed an attempt to warm the grey, ghostly 
 world without. Peace and content and a comforting 
 sense of companionship pervaded the atmosphere, and 
 was added to by the faint scent of the yellow tulips, 
 growing in a bronze bowl by the window. 
 
 The other occupant of the room was quite alive 
 to this atmosphere, though he would have been at a 
 loss to define it. He was a tall, dark man or boy 
 somewhere between twenty and twenty-five. It would 
 be difficult to place him exactly. His rather hand- 
 some face was a little less gloomy than it had been 
 on his entrance fifteen minutes ago, but he still ap- 
 peared restless and uneasy. Mrs. Crofton turned her 
 kind eyes on him. 
 
 "Well, Mark?" 
 
 He gathered his long legs together and went down 
 on his knees to replenish a fire that needed no attention. 
 
 "I'm afraid it's all up," he said a little huskily. 
 "Fafner can't do with me any longer!"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 15 
 
 "Real trouble?" 
 
 He nodded, playing absently with the tongs, then 
 suddenly abandoned his pretence, reseated himself, and 
 gave his head an upward shake and met her eyes. 
 
 "I went down to Bath last night. I had nothing to 
 do, and I was frightfully bored. I just felt I must 
 do something. I can't see what harm it is. It's not 
 as if I weren't used to looking after myself! Being 
 on my own !" 
 
 "Any of them with you?" she asked thoughtfully. 
 
 "Madre!" There was a fierce reproach in his 
 voice. 
 
 "All right," she returned, half laughing; "don't 
 flare I know you never drag the others in with you ! 
 Well, you got found out and Alexander wasn't 
 pleased ?" 
 
 Mark laughed ruefully. 
 
 'No, he was not pleased! At least he conveyed 
 that impression. I don't know how much he meant it, 
 but he more than hinted he had enough of me that 
 I was too old for his flock." 
 
 He leant his chin on his hands and gazed moodily 
 into the fire again. 
 
 "You see this is my one and only chance. If I 
 don't pass now it's all up. It was a job enough to 
 get here, and I have worked even he admits that 
 and if I get sent down sent away, it's all wasted 
 the money, and it took all we know to find it!" 
 
 "We?" 
 
 "My mother," he pushed aside the footstool rest- 
 lessly. "There's no one else." There was a queer 
 little sulky note of defiance in his voice and he did 
 not look at her. 
 
 Mrs. Crofton nodded comprehendingly. 
 
 "I see it would be a nuisance for you. Are you 
 quite sure you understood Alexander rightly?" 
 
 "One's never quite sure what he means. One's gen-
 
 16 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 erally too battered to care by the time he's finished. 
 Do you think he does it all deliberately ? It's like be- 
 ing flicked with a whip, and one has just to stand still 
 and take it, and, by Jove, it does cut !" 
 
 "No, no," she interrupted hastily, "he doesn't know, 
 half the time! Alexander was always like that. His 
 clever tongue hurts so much more than he knows or 
 reckons. Didn't you tell him what a nuisance 
 it would be?" 
 
 "Quite clearly, Madre, you've never been told off by 
 Fafner or you wouldn't talk of what one told him! 
 To begin with, there isn't a chance, and secondly, 
 when he's finished, one's so flattened out, one just 
 wants to hide one's head in the sand." Then he added 
 quickly: "It wouldn't hurt half as much if one didn't 
 like him so much !" 
 
 "You do like him?" 
 
 Mark looked at her and frowned. 
 
 "You know we all like him!" 
 
 The plural and the noncommittal "like" disguised 
 nothing from her. She, ineed, knew how they all 
 worshipped her brother, despite his sharp tongue and 
 stern discipline. 
 
 "He never appeared to mind so much before," went 
 on Mark. "And I am so much older than the rest 
 that I thought it really was not a great sin !" 
 
 "You've done it before?" 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 "How do you go?" she asked with real interest. 
 
 "Out of the billiard-room window, over the chapel 
 roof and down." 
 
 "Rather a big drop ! Back the same way ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Her eyes rested on his shapely hands, and a scraped 
 knuckle, but she made no comment. 
 
 "I suppose Alexander feels it's bad for the others, 
 even if it doesn't hurt you. He does care so fright-
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 17 
 
 fully about them all, you see. I am sure he'd hate 
 sending you away, and I don't believe he meant it. 
 Still, you must see it won't do. Suppose Jim and 
 Eve and Ingleside took to going down to Bath because 
 they were a little older than the others ?" 
 
 Mark laughed. 
 
 "Ingleside's too fat. He couldn't." 
 
 "But seriously, dear boy! In justice to Fafner" 
 she put her hand on his arm. 
 
 He did not move, but kept singularly quiet. 
 
 "I see it's a fool's trick," he admitted reluctantly. 
 "I didn't see it at the time. No doubt he's right. 
 I'm a rotter, and no use to any one !" 
 
 He laughed in an angry, uncomfortable way. 
 
 "Alexander wouldn't endorse that." 
 
 "It's what he said," Mark answered hoarsely, "and 
 considering what my being here means to me and to 
 her, it's pretty true." 
 
 "Why didn't you tell him as much !" 
 
 "He must know it. He made it plain enough even 
 for my dense head." 
 
 "He mightn't have understood that you were really 
 cut up about it." 
 
 They both sat silent. Presently Mark got up. His 
 head was very near the ceiling in the low room, and 
 his face was in shadow. 
 
 "What's the use of saying it?" 
 
 "You might try." 
 
 "Face him again?" 
 
 "He'll have forgotten what he said." 
 
 "But I haven't" 
 
 "He ought to know that. Please make him under- 
 stand how much you care. I don't want to lose you, 
 nor does Eve!" 
 
 "Oh, Eve!" 
 
 "Well, aren't the two of us together worth some 
 sacrifice to your pride ?"
 
 i8 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "I'm not proud !" he broke in quickly. 
 
 She smiled at him. 
 
 "I have at least always believed you to be truth- 
 ful! Listen! There's a motor. Veronica has taken 
 a taxi back, extravagant little thing! I must send 
 a message by the man though, and order fresh tea. 
 Shut the curtains for me, will you, Mark ?" 
 
 She was going to the door and he stopped her. 
 
 "Madre!" 
 
 She turned back and patted his arm caressingly. 
 
 "It's all right. I am sure Alexander will be rea- 
 sonable." 
 
 He caught her hand and kissed it awkwardly and 
 with a hot face. 
 
 "I'll do it, Madre." 
 
 Veronica entered, bringing with her a fresh cur- 
 rent of cold air. 
 
 "Sitting in the dark, of course! I can't see who it 
 is, but it's obviously Mark, so there'll be no buttered 
 toast left." She switched on a light, and shook her 
 furs. "It's snowing again. Do shut out the horrid 
 dark, Mark!" 
 
 Mrs. Crofton went out to send off her message and 
 order more toast, and Mark obediently drew the cur- 
 tains. 
 
 "If you lived over there instead of here you 
 wouldn't be in such a hurry to see them drawn, Veron- 
 ica." 
 
 "You can't see these windows from the college !" 
 
 "Can't you?" 
 
 "Well, can you?" 
 
 "You told me the other day never to contradict 
 you!" 
 
 She nodded gravely. "Quite right, only you always 
 remember things at the wrong moment. I had a 
 horrid drive up, so lonely without Madre! Aren't 
 you going to thank me for letting her stay?"
 
 19 
 
 "I am grateful to her for not going out, but I am 
 quite positive you tried to make her go!" 
 
 "Of course I did !" Veronica opened her beautiful 
 eyes widely. "Wouldn't you?" 
 
 "I don't think it would make much difference what 
 we tried." 
 
 "Well, you had your way to-day!" 
 
 "It was a question which of us wanted her 
 most." 
 
 "That was me," said Veronica swiftly. "It always 
 is here's tea." 
 
 "I must go," he rose regretfully. 
 
 "Buttered toast again?" She lifted the cover. 
 
 He shook his head. "Not after your insinuations !" 
 
 "It's a virtue to like nice food. I share it with 
 you." 
 
 "No, I must go. Tell her time was up, Veronica." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "It's dreadfully cold. I'm glad I haven't to turn 
 out again." 
 
 "You are a sybarite." 
 
 "I'm a sensible being! Good-bye." She looked at 
 him a little questioningly. Something must be wrong 
 or he would not so urgently have desired an interview 
 with her mother. But her curiosity flickered out. 
 It was useless and Veronica never wasted her forces 
 on useless efforts. 
 
 Her mother found her still at tea and deep in 
 thought when she entered five minutes later. 
 
 "How did the lesson go to-day?" she asked, taking 
 Mark's chair. Veronica had the other the one that 
 was called Madre's. 
 
 "Tip-top! I stood on the tips of my toes and got 
 the top A for once. It sounded all right when I was 
 up there, but I am under the impression the effect 
 down below fell rather flat!" 
 
 "You don't practice enough."
 
 20 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Oh, Madre! Just after a lesson! tret's talk" of 
 something really interesting." 
 
 "For example?" 
 
 "Shall I wear my white dress to-night or the 
 maize?" 
 
 "You call that important?" 
 
 "Dreadfully." 
 
 "Alexander won't notice." 
 
 "Mr. Bessington will." 
 
 "Vanity!" 
 
 "Darlingest Madre, I am only anxious to do you 
 credit!" 
 
 Mrs. Crofton laughed. 
 
 "You will have to talk to Mr. Bessington for a little 
 while anyhow. I have something to say to your 
 uncle." 
 
 Veronica assumed an anxious air. 
 
 "Poor Alexander! Is he very naughty?" 
 
 "How many times am I to tell you not to call him 
 Alexander?" 
 
 "Well, Fafner, then. Uncle is such an ugly word." 
 
 "It is respectful," retorted her mother severely. 
 
 Veronica stroked her mother's hand. 
 
 "It's the white dress, isn't it?" 
 
 It was in white she eventually appeared when Mrs. 
 Crofton, her brother, and the visitor were discussing 
 the latest life of Stevenson published that month. 
 Again Veronica found the room in semi-darkness and 
 switched on the light. 
 
 The three turned to look at her. She was worth 
 looking at, and though she was quite aware of it, it 
 was the awareness of a child who delights in pretty 
 things with an innocent vanity that has no conceit 
 in it. Her glistening hair, which had a delicious 
 curl in it, was bound to her shapely little head with 
 a black ribbon. Her dazzlingly fair complexion was
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 21 
 
 her only colour, and the white dress was a mere back- 
 ground to her charms. Bessington was sharply aware 
 again that she was destined to stand out in his mind 
 as linked with snow. Snow, with its elusive softness, 
 its easily spotted purity, its caressing embrace, and its 
 exhilarating coldness. Mr. Fraser's dreamy face 
 quickened with interest as she entered. 
 
 "Spoilt angel ! We had to walk on your mantle to 
 get here." 
 
 "Only on the teeniest fringe of it then. The path 
 was swept this morning." Mrs. Crofton talked to 
 Bessington and once his eyes were withdrawn from 
 Veronica he momentarily forgot her. 
 
 One of the assets by which Bessington had climbed 
 so swiftly towards his legal success was his belief in 
 a workable understanding of his fellow-men, joined 
 to an interest in them that amounted almost to a 
 passion. Now Mrs. Crof ton's personality somehow 
 baffled this understanding of his. Her vitality, her 
 unfeigned enjoyment in small pleasures and jokes that 
 bordered on the infantile offered such a curious con- 
 trast to the sense of confidence and reliability she in- 
 spired, that it gripped him as something worth more 
 than usual attention. 
 
 The little dinner was a success, as Mrs. Crof ton's 
 dinners always were. In ten minutes he had forgot- 
 ten that sinister charge of cleverness, which still tin- 
 gled in his ears, for her cleverness consisted in just 
 this, that she made people forget her general ability 
 in recognising their own! After a time, they came 
 full tilt against the subject of education and he listened 
 with amazement to her vehement denunciation of the 
 modern estimate of it. Then she stopped abruptly 
 and he saw Mr. Fraser's eyes twinkling and Veronica's 
 pretty laugh rang out. 
 
 "Oh, Madre, that's forbidden!" 
 
 Mrs. Crofton apologised plaintively.
 
 22 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "It was all your fault; you began it, Mr. Bessing- 
 ton," declared Veronica saucily. 
 
 "I am not repentant. I should like to hear Mrs. 
 Crofton's views." 
 
 "No, you wouldn't. We shouldn't have time for 
 anything else," began Veronica. 
 
 "Veronica, you are an impertinent little chatterer," 
 interposed her uncle with affected reproof. "I do not 
 like my sister to talk of it and lose her temper," he 
 went on, turning to Bessington, "because she says 
 more than she means." 
 
 "That's a family failing," Veronica insisted de- 
 murely. 
 
 Behind all his interest in these people Bessington 
 was aware from time to time of half a dozen questions 
 that kept ringing their changes on his mind, such as, 
 what had the deceased Mr. Crofton been like? Why 
 had she never married again? What after all was her 
 age ? And, more insistent than all, was there ever any 
 one so beautiful as Veronica out of story-book land? 
 
 Mrs. Crofton stopped her brother as they moved 
 into the drawing-room. 
 
 "Alexander, I want you a minute." 
 
 He feigned an air of resignation and sat down in 
 a big chair. 
 
 "I am not the only person who says more than 
 they mean on occasions." 
 
 She spoke with diffidence and great gentleness. 
 
 "I daresay not. I believe I do it myself some- 
 times. What is the matter, my dear?" 
 
 "I was wondering if you meant all you said to 
 Mark to-day." 
 
 Alexander frowned ruefully. 
 
 "What did I say to him?" 
 
 "He's very unhappy." 
 
 "So he ought to be!" retorted her brother rather 
 hotly "Pid he tell you his crime?"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 23 
 
 "Yes. Of course he should have had the sense to 
 see he can't be allowed to break rules because he is 
 older than the others. It's not the first time either, 
 you have told him off for it, is it?" 
 
 "Told him off ! Felicity, you are getting a depraved 
 woman." 
 
 "Never mind my depravity. Just tell me what you 
 said to Mark the last time about his going down to 
 Bath? Did you point out to him then the moral re- 
 sponsibility he incurred?" 
 
 "He's no sense of it! I don't remember what I 
 said." 
 
 Mrs. Crofton was silent a moment. 
 
 "Do you mean to send him away, Alexander?" 
 
 Her brother stared at her. 
 
 "Send who away? Mark? Good heavens, Felicity, 
 the boy's got to go up this year ! What a preposterous 
 idea!" 
 
 "So I thought, but you managed to convey that to* 
 him this morning." 
 
 Alexander fidgeted uneasily. 
 
 "Nonsense, Felicity. Mark was having you on." 
 
 "Who's depraved now! No, Alexander, Mark was 
 never further from joking in his life. He really thinks 
 you are tired of him and mean him to go, and he's 
 perfectly sick with his own foolishness." 
 
 "He didn't convey that impression to me." 
 
 "Oh, my dear, when will you learn that you flatten 
 out people with that clever tongue of yours far too 
 much for them to have a chance of conveying any- 
 thing? Mark had not considered that he had done 
 anything very heinous till you dropped on him and I 
 don't suppose you did more before than hint it was not 
 advisable for him to go down to Bath at all hours, and 
 did not take the trouble to let him know you were 
 speaking sarcastically. Then without further warn- 
 ing on the very next occasion you turn and rend him,
 
 24 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 leaving him with the impression he's no good to you 
 or any one else, and that you can't have him here 
 contaminating your other innocent lambs!" 
 
 "I never said a word like it !" protested the accused. 
 
 She laughed gently. 
 
 "No, that's the worst of it. You conveyed it all 
 without using the actual words ; without knowing you 
 were hurting intolerably the more so because Mark 
 and you know it adores you!" 
 
 "Felicity, do talk sense." 
 
 "I am trying to. I am not defending Mark. He 
 was much in the wrong but you ought to remember 
 your own power." 
 
 Fraser dropped his face on his hands and sighed. 
 
 "Felicity, you are hard on me." 
 
 "Not a quarter as hard as you are on them. It 
 may be good for some of them, but I am not sure 
 it is for Mark. He's an odd character." 
 
 He sat drumming his fingers on the arm of the 
 chair and presently said slowly: 
 
 "I suppose they don't realise how I feel myself 
 involved with in all their doings. It is as if I were 
 myself foolish with their foolishness and wise with 
 their wisdom, proud with their success, glad in their 
 joy ! Felicity, it's a magnificent tiling to be young!" 
 
 Her eyes shone and there was a slight tremulous 
 movement of her hands that meant much more than 
 appeared as she turned to him. 
 
 "It's glorious !" was her one remark, but unlike her 
 brother's words her own carried no idea of a glory 
 apart from herself. To her at that moment it was 
 glorious to be young! 
 
 "Tell me," she went on swiftly, "what are Mark's 
 real chances of passing?" 
 
 He looked anxious. 
 
 "I am afraid of his languages nothing else. He 
 ought to go abroad, but it's out of the question, I
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 25 
 
 know." He sighed and got up, walking up and down. 
 "It's hard lines, Felicity. He's really a good man for 
 the work. He's a worker and he has ambition, and 
 he's set on India, but it's money that's hampering 
 him or the lack of it. He has a chance and a good 
 one, but if he fails it will be that. He ought to go 
 abroad again to get rubbed up. I'd send him myself 
 but" 
 
 He did not finish. 
 
 Felicity knew well he had already done as much for 
 Mark Forrester as Mark could or would accept. 
 
 "If he had any interest and could get a job out 
 there direct he'd be sure to do well. He's the kind, 
 but he has no influence at all." 
 
 "A job under some high official in India?" 
 
 "Yes. There are just a few appointments made like 
 that you know." 
 
 "Are there? We must see." 
 
 Her brother looked at her with kindly curiosity. 
 He knew there were possibilities if she cared to move. 
 He wondered if she would. 
 
 "What do you think of Dominic?" he asked. 
 
 "I don't wonder at your partiality. I used to be a 
 bit jealous for the boys whom I knew better. Still 
 it's hard to know why he's so delightful." 
 
 "It's his amazing interest in one. Real interest, 
 not assumed. He is not wanting to talk about him- 
 self when he's politely listening to you. He's genu- 
 inely absorbed in what you are saying." 
 
 "Or in what he's thinking of you! Well, let's go 
 in to them. Veronica may be boring him." 
 
 Mr. Fraser gave her a quick glance. She was not 
 smiling. It would never have occurred to him that 
 Veronica could bore any one but then he set an 
 exaggerated value on his niece. 
 
 Veronica and Bessington had not been bored in the 
 least. They had found their way to the piano. Bess-
 
 26 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 ington did not sing, but he could play accompaniments 
 decently, and though Veronica refused to sing seri- 
 ously they ran through scraps of operas and then 
 lighting on a book of Harrow songs enjoyed those. 
 Bessington had, indeed, no clear knowledge of what 
 he played or she sang. He had only a mazed sense of 
 a golden net and a golden voice and a new disturb- 
 ing feeling within himself. 
 
 m 
 
 Bessington, in his habit of regarding his fellow be- 
 ings as conundrums of inexhaustible interest, had not 
 limited himself to the study of men. At the same 
 time, his experiences with women had been both limit- 
 ed and non-conclusive, and his understanding had been 
 led astray more than once. Disappointment had, how- 
 ever, added zest to his seeking, and he had in turn 
 been interested, dominated, and fascinated by the ex- 
 citement of his study, but so far he never had the 
 illuminating experience of "falling in love." Indeed, 
 he had never lost control of that level head of his. 
 Yet if his dealings with women had been thus sane 
 and balanced, not the least point of their sanity was 
 the fact that he himself knew he had never been 
 in love. "I shall cease to be reasonable, or to be able 
 to judge when I am," he told himself. He regarded 
 that as the sure sign by which he would know he was 
 not deceived. And since it was to be no matter of 
 logical sequence, he wasted no time pondering over 
 the possible features of "she who was to come," and 
 meanwhile had found life full of other interests and 
 the world a storehouse of surprising souls. 
 
 When he walked home with Mr. Fraser that night 
 through the snowy garden, he was still too enmeshed 
 in the net of unreason to know himself entangled. Mr.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 27 
 
 Fraser spoke of his sister and hardly mentioned Ve- 
 ronica. Bessington was quite content to talk about 
 Mrs. Crofton and undeniably interested in her, and he 
 did not in the least want to talk about Veronica, be- 
 cause he would have nothing to say if he had at- 
 tempted to do so. He did not even want to understand 
 her, but he did most assuredly want to see her again. 
 
 Mr. Fraser seemed naively anxious for his old 
 pupil's appreciation of Mrs. Crofton, and there was a 
 little touch of eager affection in his voice that was 
 rather a revelation to Bessington. 
 
 "My sister is rather a remarkable woman, I think," 
 he began; "she has had the courage to mark out a 
 line for herself and to follow it. I am afraid she 
 rather scandalises some people, but I am bound to say 
 that if getting as much joy as is possible out of life, 
 and giving pleasure and help to others in great meas- 
 ure, constitutes happiness, then Felicity is a successful 
 woman." 
 
 Bessington said she looked a happy woman. 
 
 "And she really has a steady head on her shoulders," 
 insisted Mr. Fraser as if it were a fact he had had to 
 insist on, in the past. "She can pilot people through 
 the most troublesome waters and earn their gratitude ; 
 which is more than that type of pilot usually earns! 
 I confess," he added with a little sigh, "that her 
 methods are not always conventional, but they seem 
 to render people happier in the end. There was one 
 case where she prevented a divorce which every one 
 said should be carried through in the interests of 
 morality." 
 
 "What was the result?" asked Bessington curi- 
 ously. 
 
 "The couple are absurdly happy now and he is a 
 reformed character. She does things like that 
 touches things other people would fear to look at. 
 Then with my boys " He paused.
 
 28 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 They were under the big portico now and stood 
 still a moment to look at the inverted heaven that 
 twinkled away down in the velvety blackness below 
 them. 
 
 "People blamed her a great deal," said Mr. Fraser 
 abruptly, "for settling here with Veronica. I own I 
 was not quite happy about it myself at first. But 
 Felicity only said she was not bringing Veronica 
 up to live in a convent but in a world of men and 
 women, and the sooner she learnt her way about it 
 the better, and that if she were to lock her up in 
 prison, she would still fall in love when her hour 
 came, without the advantages of any measure by which 
 to gauge her lover. Sometimes I think it's rather hard 
 on my boys. They do fall in love with her, but Felicity 
 seems to smooth it out all right, and of course Veron- 
 ica is still only a child." 
 
 Bessington agreed. He found nothing else to say 
 on the subject of Veronica. 
 
 IV 
 
 The next day they all skated on the ornamental 
 water at the bottom of the combe. Alexander's 
 twenty pupils and some of the masters, the visitor 
 and the Croftons. 
 
 Mrs. Crofton skated well, as she did everything 
 she undertook, but Veronica skated even better. She 
 sped in and out amongst them, bestowing greetings and 
 smiles with fine impartiality, but even Bessington's 
 keen eyes could detect no sign of favour, nothing but 
 the frank, good comradeship of a happy girl, with a 
 big family of brothers. Her happiness was as exhil- 
 arating as the air. He skated with her and remem- 
 bered nothing of all they talked about, except that 
 they laughed a great deal and her little sallies of wit
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 29 
 
 had a spontaneity that reminded him of twinkling 
 stars. 
 
 Presently he skated with Mrs. Crofton and of 
 their conversation he could remember every word. 
 They were joined later by the fair-haired boy with 
 the girlish complexion. Mrs. Crofton introduced him 
 to Bessington. 
 
 "I know Alexander leaves his guests to pick up 
 names as they can," she said. "You two have prob- 
 ably met, but I am sure no one has told you that Eve's 
 name is really Adam Preston. I daresay he has 
 nearly forgotten it himself. He remembers it at the 
 beginning of term for about a week, isn't it, Eve?" 
 
 "I forget it as soon as you remember to ask me 
 to tea," retorted Eve, gazing steadily in front of him. 
 
 "Since when has it been necessary to send you an 
 invitation?" she asked blandly, and he laughed. 
 
 Veronica sped up to them, caught at Eve's arm to 
 stop herself, and spun round him. He steadied her 
 carefully with a tolerant indulgence. 
 
 "Eve complains he has not been asked to tea this 
 term," began Mrs. Crofton. 
 
 "He must have something on his conscience," re- 
 torted Veronica. 
 
 "I've not. I've behaved myself with extreme pro- 
 priety." 
 
 "Not all the vacation. No one could do that." 
 
 "I did. Ask Mark." 
 
 "Oh, Mark's prejudiced!" 
 
 "And why Mark?" asked Mrs. Crofton. 
 
 "I stayed with him some of the time," Eve triexl 
 to speak offhandedly. 
 
 "Why didn't he stay with you? You would have 
 had a better time," this from Veronica. 
 
 "Veronica!" 
 
 "I only meant that Mark hasn't any hunting or 
 shooting or "
 
 "We all know what you meant, child. Don't make 
 matters worse by explaining !" laughed her mother. 
 
 Veronica whizzed round on her skates to Bessing- 
 ton. 
 
 "Take me away," she cried ; "they are all very un- 
 kind. They won't let me talk!" 
 
 Bessington commiserated her and they skated 
 off. 
 
 "Mark must have been very glad to have you," 
 said Mrs. Crofton, as Eve seated himself on the 
 bank beside her and lit a cigarette. 
 
 "I was glad. I suppose, Madre, he's sure to pass 
 this summer? His mother and sister will be hor- 
 ribly disappointed if he doesn't." 
 
 Mrs. Crofton did not answer at once. She was 
 weighing another question in her mind. 
 
 "I should say he was certain. Is his sister like 
 him?" 
 
 "Not in the least," returned Eve quickly. "She's 
 fond of books and poetry and art and things like that. 
 I think she has a bad time somehow, and she looks 
 delicate." He paused to examine his cigarette. "She 
 is awfully good looking." 
 
 "Younger than Mark?" 
 
 "Three years younger, I think. She's been abroad 
 for some time. That's why Mark couldn't come to 
 me. His mother thought he ought to be home with 
 Miss Forrester." 
 
 "Yes, naturally,"" Mrs. Crofton agreed thoughtfully, 
 and then wondered if it were natural. 
 
 She heard more about Miss Forrester before Eve 
 left her. Miss Forrester adored Swinburne and Wag- 
 ner. Eve did not seem very clear whether the last 
 was a "theatre person" or a poet or a musician. She 
 had read a lot of philosophy and had wonderful ideas 
 about things. 
 
 "So you did not find much in common?" enquired
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 31 
 
 Mrs. Crofton, with a demure little downward glance 
 that brought out a likeness of Veronica. 
 
 "One doesn't always have to like the same things 
 to get on with people," returned Eve rather vaguely. 
 "She didn't mind about my not knowing about her 
 sort of things." 
 
 Now Eve was a good specimen of an outdoor young 
 Englishman with rather rigid ideas of his own on 
 some subjects which he kept to himself as a rule, and 
 he was the only child of extremely wealthy and de- 
 voted parents. Also he was Mrs. Crof ton's very spe- 
 cial protege and she found herself wishing she had not 
 lived so long in ignorance of the existence of another 
 protege's sister. Still for the time she abandoned the 
 subject. 
 
 "Why haven't you been over to see me, Eve?" 
 
 "I don't want to be a nuisance I was in and out 
 all last term." 
 
 "Yes, I like it you know it." 
 
 Her voice was reproachful. 
 
 "But suppose they all did it?" 
 
 "They don't. You are different." 
 
 He looked just a shade embarrassed, then laughed. 
 
 "The mater said I shouldn't take advantage of your 
 kindness I told her that was all rot still !" 
 
 She looked away. She could never quite suppress 
 a twinge of envy when she thought of Eve's mother. 
 
 "Your mother does not know how nice it is to 
 pretend that some one of you all has a right to come 
 in and out as he will." 
 
 "I'll come Madre, there's that beastly exam be- 
 fore me this year!" he groaned. 
 
 Mrs. Crofton felt confident he would not have con- 
 fided his detestation of exams to his mother. She 
 expressed some scorn and amusement at his attitude 
 and told him to come and help her make out a list 
 for Mudie/s that night after work,
 
 32 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 When Mark arrived at her side a little later Mrs. 
 Crofton found she had something to say to him. 
 
 Mark Forrester was older than the run of Mr. Fra- 
 ser's pupils, who were nearly all candidates for 
 Sandhurst, but Forrester had set his heart on the In- 
 dian Civil Service. His slender resources could not 
 run to London and Scoones and it would be by sheer 
 weight of ability if he passed from a local crammer; 
 but Mr. Fraser held high hopes of his success and had 
 spared no pains. 
 
 Mark said nothing of their discussion of the pre- 
 vious day. He could talk well and even brilliantly 
 when so inclined, though in a manner which left his 
 hearers singularly unenlightened as to his real opinions 
 of things in general. Mrs. Crofton allowed herself 
 to be amused for a short time and then said : 
 
 "How long have you been here, Mark ?" 
 
 "Eight months and three weeks," he answered 
 promptly. 
 
 "And all that time you never told me you had a 
 sister!" 
 
 He gave an odd little laugh and replied carelessly : 
 
 "She's been abroad for over a year. Her name is 
 Stella and she's three years younger than I am. So 
 now you have made up for lost time." 
 
 "Well, I am interested in her." 
 
 "What's Eve been saying?" he frowned a little. 
 "There's nothing very interesting about Stella, all the 
 same. She likes reading and poetry and obtuse sub- 
 jects." 
 
 "We should have tastes in common." 
 
 "Oh, not in your way," Mark answered hastily. 
 "She likes things differently. I'm not good at ex- 
 plaining, but she likes rather depressing things just 
 
 because they are depressing, not " He came to a 
 
 stand again. 
 
 "Go on; you are advancing."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 33 
 
 "I am not. And I'm afraid I don't get on very 
 well with Stella, I should give you a false impression. 
 No doubt it's my fault. We like different sorts of 
 things. Madre, it's all right about Fafner. He 
 doesn't mean me to go." 
 
 "I thought you had misunderstood him." 
 
 Clearly Mark was not to be drawn on the subject 
 of his sister. She was still dissatisfied and puzzled. 
 Eve was so clearly interested and yet from Mark's 
 description Miss Forrester sounded the last person in 
 the world to attract him. Perhaps, after all, she was 
 worrying herself unnecessarily. Eve was not an in- 
 flammable boy. 
 
 She watched him, presently, cutting new figures on 
 the ice. He mustn't make a mistake over his future. 
 She felt her whole heart throb with a fierce sense 
 of protective right, that was at once unreasonable and 
 out of order. She had nothing to set against it ex- 
 cept her knowledge of life and her lack of knowledge 
 of Mark's women kind. Mark himself was, of course, 
 beyond suspicion. 
 
 In the end she took herself severely to task for 
 entertaining unwarrantable suspicions and sandwiched 
 this in, with the fixed intention of taking the first op- 
 portunity that presented itself of making friends with 
 Mark's sister. 
 
 "It's just as well, perhaps, that I haven't got a son," 
 she confessed to herself a little wistfully. "It requires 
 so much more nerve than a daughter." 
 
 On the higher ground behind the House was the 
 cricket-field, and in front of a little sheltering wood 
 stood the pavilion, a new wooden erection with a roof 
 thatched with faggots, built the preceding summer.
 
 34 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 A stone wall in the rear separated this from some 
 fields and a large cow byre. The cricket patch was 
 a sheet of snowy whiteness, only before the pavilion 
 there was a trampled path, for the sunny verandah 
 was a pleasant loitering place when time hung heavy 
 on hand, even in winter. 
 
 Half a dozen young men and Malby, the modern 
 history master, were gathered there. The six were 
 sitting or lounging about the palings, and Malby was 
 now standing in the entrance, now walking rapidly 
 up and down, detailing with dramatic vigour an ac- 
 count of a certain fight in the Italian war of inde- 
 pendence. 
 
 It was always considered a great and legitimate 
 game to "draw old Malby." His enthusiasm for his 
 subject knew no bounds of place or time, and his fer- 
 voured imagination and grasp of detail would seize 
 hold of the smallest thread to concoct living, vivid 
 pictures that had a trick of sticking in the memory of 
 his hearers. 
 
 For this purpose the pavilion was for the nonce 
 a fortress held by the Austrians, to which, under a 
 starlight night, the enemy were advancing creeping 
 silently up under cover of the wall! 
 
 "About as far away as the corner over there," 
 stammered Mr. Malby in his quick, hurried little 
 voice, "they divided into two parties, and all in a 
 silence that was as profound as night. Those who 
 were advancing across the open in the shadow of 
 those trees, as it were carried straw in bundles and 
 faggots bound with tow and those who continued to 
 creep nearer under the shadow of the wall, over 
 there" he wheeled around sharply, extending an 
 explanatory finger "had only their weapons and their 
 approach was even slower and more silent, than that 
 of the others! In the fort itself," he wheeled 
 round, fronted the pavilion "all was quiet. . They
 
 35 
 
 had no reason to suspect the enemy were anywhere 
 in their neighbourhood, thought them, indeed, as wan- 
 dering fugitives, lost on the mountains yonder. The 
 solitary sentry," with a sharp twist towards the 
 snowy expanse before them "reached the end of his 
 beat, perhaps as far off as the gate there," one 
 nervous hand jerked the red tie he wore from its 
 discreet repose and dragged it into a shapeless knot. 
 "Then as he turned, death, swift and sure, leapt on 
 him out of silence and darkness. Figures scudded 
 through the night and the faggots and straw were 
 flung down about a hundred yards from the fortress 
 gates, were fired, were ablaze in two seconds, and the 
 first sound that roused the little garrison was the 
 crackling flames and the dense smoke which hid for 
 a moment the waiting enemy. Only for a moment, 
 then the garrison rushed out and over the burning 
 wood and straw there was a hand-to-hand fight. One 
 man, writing after of it, said the grim, dreadful silence 
 of the men was the worst." He strode up and down 
 again, his fingers still restlessly engaged at the twisted 
 tie, then stopped and took up his song. "All the gar- 
 rison had rushed out, you understand, for the fire 
 must be fought as well as the enemy, and the ragged 
 crew across the flaming barrier had poor chance 
 but as much as they wanted ; for meanwhile the sec- 
 ond party do you remember they divided? 
 reached the back of the extemporised fortress and a 
 triumphant cry drowned even the fire's roar as they 
 took possession of the now empty building that was 
 the key to their central advance. In an instant every 
 window and door was manned, and the Austrians 
 were caught between the ridge of fire without and 
 the fusillade from within. They all fell, with two 
 exceptions, but that force across the barrier was rid- 
 dled also by their friend's fire as they knew must 
 happen only two escaped of them." He jerked his
 
 36 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 head sharply and the excitement dropped from his 
 voice as suddenly as it had sprang there. 
 
 "When the morning came they buried friend and 
 foe under the eastern wall, and there's a tablet there 
 now with a bald account of it all." 
 
 Something in Malby's clear vision and unexpressed 
 admiration for his subject defeated his jerky utter- 
 ances and wild gesticulations. He drew their eyes 
 here, there, everywhere, to invisible things that seemed 
 part of the landscape to him, and this in spite of 
 themselves! For it was strictly "de rigeur" to simu- 
 late resistance to his imperative demands on their 
 imagination, and to refuse to follow that directing 
 finger and compelling look as long as they could. 
 Even Adam Preston, who had the reputation of being 
 able to sit with unmoved eyes and unturned head 
 through the most passionate discourse, was caught once 
 to-day by a peremptory command to see the figures 
 approaching in the dark, along under the wall. 
 
 The boy who sat next to him saw it, and had held 
 out his hand silently and Adam with a rueful grin 
 had produced half a sovereign and handed it over. 
 The amount of a standing bet on the event ! 
 
 "That's how it all was," said Malby, abruptly striv- 
 ing to replace his tie. "They did what they were told 
 to do I say, you fellows, I hope I didn't bore you 
 with an extra 'out-of-time' lecture?" 
 
 "Jolly good one," murmured James Streeter, known 
 to the masters as "that young devil Jim." "If fight- 
 ing were like that now it would be a good sight better 
 worth while facing exams." 
 
 Malby smiled deprecatingly behind his glasses. 
 
 "You could have gone away," he suggested a little 
 wistfully. 
 
 "But we didn't," said Eve stolidly. 
 
 "We remembered 'Manners maketh man,' " put in 
 a third.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 37 
 
 Malby was a Wykehamite and was never allowed 
 to forget it on account of his having once quoted that 
 much abused motto to his class. 
 
 He still looked troubled, and Eve said: 
 
 "It's all right, sir. We all liked it. They are only 
 having you on." 
 
 Malby went away, gratified and happy. When he 
 had gone they discussed the affair impartially. They 
 were old enough to appreciate the heroism of it, and 
 young enough to rejoice in the daring of it and to 
 enjoy the illusion he had created. 
 
 "What a lark it would be," said Jim, to whom in- 
 action was ever repugnant, "to divide forces and make 
 Old Malby sit up by showing him how much better 
 the attack might have been warded off." 
 
 "Or to do it just as it was," suggested another, "fire, 
 faggots and all, from the yard down there. I bet 
 you anything you like we'll smoke you out in double 
 quick time." 
 
 "There's O'Brian," said Eve; "let's hear what he 
 has to say." 
 
 O'Brian was another irrepressible whose attempt to 
 scale the fastness of Sandhurst had met with poor en- 
 couragement from the authorities. He sat down and 
 listened to what they had to say. 
 
 VI 
 
 "Unless my memory plays me false or times have 
 sadly changed," said Bessington, three days later to 
 Mrs. Crofton, "there's something up to-night. The 
 unparalleled good behaviour in hall could mean noth- 
 ing else than fun!" 
 
 "I was afraid you were going to say mischief !" 
 
 "I'm only six years or so behind it all," he laughed. 
 
 "Sometimes a year's enough! Did the fun ever 
 do you any harm?"
 
 38 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Most instructive school in the world !" 
 
 "That's what I think, and am always telling Alex- 
 ander. In the main, he agrees but says the parents 
 don't. They are often very stupid. It's a good thing 
 they don't know all the fun! What is this, spe- 
 cially?" 
 
 "Madre's simply longing to take part in it!" de- 
 clared Veronica gravely. "Do tell her at once that 
 she can't, Mr. Bessington." 
 
 "I think it's something up at the pavilion, but I'm 
 not sure." 
 
 "Mark's coming in presently, perhaps he'll know." 
 
 Mrs. Crofton went to the window and looked out. 
 The weather was on the change. A wind had sprung 
 up and had blown the snow from the trees and was 
 tossing the bare branches fitfully. Overhead the stars 
 shone through the trailing, torn clouds. There was 
 something restless and uncomfortable in the air. The 
 green gate at the end of the garden walk was flung 
 open and Mark's tall figure came striding up the path 
 towards the little gleam of light. Mrs. Crofton 
 dropped the curtains and went to the door. 
 
 A qualm of jealousy crossed Forrester's mind as he 
 saw Bessington ensconced in the particular chair that 
 was his. However, Bessington was talking to Veron- 
 ica to-night and not to Mrs. Crofton, which was com- 
 forting. 
 
 "Mr. Bessington tells me there is something going 
 on to-night, Mark. Aren't you in it ?" 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 "Is it likely I'll be in anything after last Tuesday? 
 It's Malby's fault anyhow. He's inspired them to act 
 some scene in Italian history. At least I saw Eve 
 with King's history in his hands and it's not likely to 
 have been there for any more legitimate purpose. 
 Some little fortress business, where they burnt out the 
 Austrians?"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 39 
 
 "Surely, they aren't going to act it realistically?" 
 
 "O'Brian and Jim are in it," he returned ambigu- 
 ously. 
 
 Mrs. Crofton sprang up. 
 
 "Let's all go out and see what they are doing!" 
 she cried. 
 
 "It's a beastly night " began Mark. 
 
 But there was no gainsaying her. Her quick mind 
 had seen possibilities. She wanted to be there. Bess- 
 ington himself felt infected by her interest, but thought 
 it right to back Mark's remark about the night. 
 
 "We can get into suitable clothes in three minutes," 
 she declared. "Come along, Veronica." 
 
 Veronica demurred a little at the trouble, though 
 she had no intention of being left out of any fun that 
 was going. In less than ten minutes the two re- 
 appeared in short skirts and thick coats and the four 
 of them went out. At the back of the Haven a wood 
 protected it from the north and through this a path 
 wound steeply up to the playing fields, coming out 
 nearly opposite the pavilion. It was an eery, wild 
 night and the scene that met their eyes as they 
 emerged from the dark wood was weird enough for 
 its setting. There on the far side of the snowy waste 
 stood the pavilion, and before it burned a flaring hedge 
 of fire, across which sundry forms appeared locked 
 in a deadly struggle. The wind was blowing the 
 smoke right into the pavilion, the holders of which 
 seemed all engaged in desperate efforts to extinguish 
 the blazing faggots with the help of snow and sticks, 
 but, aided by the puffs of smoke which from moment 
 to moment obliged the defendants to rush back for 
 air, the attacking party were continually able to 
 fling more fuel on the fire. Here and there a hand- 
 to-hand struggle was in process and the oddest thing 
 about it was that the mischief workers maintained 
 an amazing silence. It had been decreed that a cry
 
 40 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 or even a word spoken aloud should render the utterer 
 a prisoner. 
 
 "Oh, what mad children they are!" murmured Mrs. 
 Crofton, partly laughing, partly gleeful and wholly 
 ready to enter into the spirit of the game and play 
 "Jessie Mario" at need to their young Italy. 
 
 "They'll end in getting burnt," said Veronica se- 
 renely, "and it will be all Mr. Malby's fault. He 
 ought to be talked to by Uncle Fafner." 
 
 "Don't be so heartless, Veronica," put in Mark; 
 "anyhow they are amusing you." 
 
 Suddenly the silence was broken by a wild cheer 
 and the shutters of the pavilion were flung wide open, 
 letting loose a yellow glare of light on the scene. But 
 now the cunning of the defending party was visible, 
 for instead of employing all their forces on the fire 
 fight, they had left a small body of men in ambush 
 and these now rushed on the intruders and though 
 they could not oust them, they delayed their final dis- 
 play of triumph which was the unfurling of a flag 
 that being the compromise agreed to to render the 
 affair something more than a foregone conclusion. 
 
 The little group of audience drew nearer and nearer. 
 Mark, doing much violence to his own feeling by re- 
 maining neutral, and Bessington himself longing to 
 take a hand, but quite awake to a danger to which 
 the others seemed indifferent. 
 
 Then that danger took form. A heavier gust of 
 wind than usual swept a tiny bundle of flaming straw 
 up in the air, and dropped it on the roof of the pa- 
 vilion. No snow had laid on the thatch faggots, which 
 were dry as tinder under influence of sun and wind. 
 The faggots welcomed the fiery bundle, caught it, as 
 it were, to their breast, and though Bessington, seeing 
 it instantly, shouted a warning as he rushed forward, 
 no one heard, and almost immediately the roof burst 
 into flame, the wind fanning this to wild exuberance.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 41 
 
 Bessington found himself in command of the ex- 
 cited band. Some were set to shovel snow on the 
 roof, others to drag farther off the smoking faggots 
 before the building. It was soon obvious that there 
 was little chance of saving the pavilion and their 
 efforts must be directed to preventing the fire spread- 
 ing to the cow-byre on the other side of the near wall 
 which was linked to the pavilion by a line of larch 
 trees, and a wood paling. 
 
 The ground became a sea of muddy, trampled snow, 
 charred wood and ashes, and the workers with their 
 blackened faces and dishevelled clothes became more 
 aware of the real destruction they had wrought and 
 less alive to the tremendous fun of it. 
 
 Bessington found Mrs. Crofton by his side, pull- 
 ing aside the debris of the wooden fence which he 
 was tearing down to cut the direct line of commu- 
 nication with the larch trees. 
 
 "Where's Veronica," he asked, without stopping his 
 work. 
 
 "I sent her to tell Alexander. They won't see the 
 glare from the house, or hear anything in this 
 wind." 
 
 He accepted her help quite naturally, and then a 
 wounded combatant came running up for first aid and 
 she muffled a rather badly burnt finger in a clean 
 handkerchief. 
 
 "Isn't it a lark?" cried the injured one. 
 
 Mrs. Crofton laughed and glanced a little shame- 
 facedly at Bessington. It was quite obvious that she 
 was enjoying the excitement immensely. 
 
 The red gold of the flame against the dim snowy 
 world and the moving figures in the still persistent 
 clouds of smoke made a queer picture. It crossed 
 Bessington's mind that not half an hour ago they were 
 seated in quiet security around the drawing-room fire 
 with the fitful ugly night shut out and that they
 
 42 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 would have been there now if it had not been for 
 Mrs. Crofton. 
 
 Suddenly through the midst of them a terrified, 
 scared rabbit rushed madly right up into the verandah 
 of the burning building itself, and huddled in a corner 
 ready for the death that pursued ! Felicity saw it and 
 cried out in distress and one boy made a dash for the 
 steps. Bessington pulled him back instantly. 
 
 "The roof's going!" he shouted. "Keep away!" 
 
 As he spoke part of the verandah roof fell in, with 
 a crash, but not the end in which the poor little crea- 
 ture crouched. 
 
 Before Bessington saw what she was at, Felicity 
 was up the steps and had seized the rabbit. A bit 
 of burning wood fell on her shoulder as she sprang 
 back amongst them. It was Bessington who dragged 
 her back and roughly crushed out the fire from the 
 smouldering cloth of which she was unaware. She 
 twisted from his hold and ran off to the wood and 
 dropped the still living and unharmed bunny over the 
 wall into safety and darkness. 
 
 Bessington walked after her and accosted her hotly : 
 
 "I'd send you home if you were one of the boys, 
 Mrs. Crofton. It was an unpardonable thing to do! 
 What business have you to run those risks with 
 Veronica?" 
 
 "I'm sorry," she returned meekly. "Of course it 
 was silly, but, you see, I am not hurt and really 
 I didn't stop to think." 
 
 "Somehow I shouldn't have expected you to lose 
 your head." 
 
 Eve dashed up to them. 
 
 "Madre, are you hurt ? Oh, why on earth did you 
 do it? It was mad!" but unlike Bessington his 
 tongue told one tale and his eyes another. They one 
 and all greeted her with cheers and acclamations of 
 praise, half derisive, half sincere, and a little reproach-
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 43 
 
 ful, but Bessington betrayed no sign of relenting. He 
 was angry with her, and she knew it and felt oddly 
 ashamed. 
 
 Then she knew she had displeased some one else. 
 
 "You here, Felicity?" said Alexander's voice. 
 "Have you a hand in this mischief?" 
 
 "I'm here, anyhow," she admitted. "It wasn't meant 
 for mischief, Alexander. It was the wind did that. 
 And it was such fun till the fire began." 
 
 Servants and labourers and general helpers had ar- 
 rived by now, and somewhat late in the day the hand 
 fire engine was dragged up the hill from the house, 
 but nothing could be done. The pavilion was de- 
 stroyed, several trees burnt and several men injured. 
 Alexander, surveying the scene, did not feel at all 
 inclined to let his sister's definition of fun go unchal- 
 lenged. 
 
 "If you knew anything of such a preposterous piece 
 of work and did not warn me, all I can say is I hope 
 you will be able to make matters right with Streeter's 
 people if he's too badly hurt to go up for his exam 
 this year. He can't spare time to be ill." 
 
 "Oh, Alexander ! He isn't really hurt, is he ?" 
 
 "Mark and O'Brian are just carrying him down and 
 I've told them to telephone for a doctor," her brother 
 insisted relentlessly. 
 
 "What happened?" She was on thorns to run off 
 after the injured boy, but dared not. 
 
 "His sleeve caught fire, pulling off a faggot just as 
 I came up and I daresay half the others are injured 
 more or less. It's what any one but those fools of 
 boys might have foreseen." 
 
 Quite unthinkingly Bessington, who was standing on 
 the other side of Mrs. Crofton, straightened himself 
 up in the old familiar manner. 
 
 "I'm most guilty, sir," he said sorrowfully, "I fore- 
 saw the possibility and didn't stop things."
 
 44 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "You hadn't time," put in Mrs. Crofton. 
 
 "I had ever since this morning," he confessed. 
 
 Alexander turned to the group of boys, serious and 
 tired enough now. 
 
 "You can all go down," he said sharply ; "there are 
 enough grown-up people to see to this now. I'll talk 
 to you in the morning." 
 
 Adam Preston lingered, looking anxiously at Mrs. 
 Crofton. 
 
 "Mrs. Crofton and the rest only came up at the end, 
 sir. They couldn't " 
 
 "Mrs. Crofton can tell me that herself," inter- 
 rupted Mr. Fraser sharply. 
 
 The guilty lady could not resist a little glance at 
 Bessington and a gleam of answering amusement flick- 
 ered in his eye. 
 
 "Thank you, Eve," she said gratefully. "I am 
 completely flattened out myself, so I shall be able to 
 sympathise with you to-morrow. Oh, Alexander, 
 where's Veronica?" 
 
 "I sent her home. I suppose you have only just 
 missed her. You had better go too. Bessington, will 
 you see she does go home?" 
 
 "I am going first to hear how Jim is," she answered 
 firmly. 
 
 "It's all very well," she remarked when they were 
 out of earshot, "but if it had not been for the wind 
 there would have been no fire, and nothing would 
 have happened but the fun and it was fun, what- 
 ever Alexander says. Of course he makes one feel 
 in the wrong for the minute, but my own sober senses 
 tell me there is nothing wrong in trying to enact 
 the night attack on Mulio." 
 
 "But lack of common sense is wrong. They 
 ought to have waited for a still night and they had 
 the faggots too close. I saw it at once, and well, 
 it was out of law after all"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 45 
 
 "He'll be dreadfully hard on them to-morrow," she 
 said mournfully. 
 
 "Not harder than the world will be if they do silly 
 things without Fafner to point out the silliness. I am 
 really most guilty because I thought of the wind, and 
 did not stop them. I just recollected how sick I 
 should have been myself if an outsider had inter- 
 fered." 
 
 "You are a betwixt and between," she declared, 
 laughing; "and so am I. So I shall tell Alexander 
 to have us both up together; he can't say more than 
 he means to say." 
 
 Bessington laughed. "Are you sure? Unless he 
 has changed a good deal I don't think it would make 
 much difference." 
 
 VII 
 
 Alexander's relentless prognostication happily did 
 not prove entirely true. Jim Streeter was laid up 
 for some weeks with his injured arm and for that 
 time there was quite a definite fear his future career 
 might be endangered, but in the end he recovered. 
 Nevertheless, during those first anxious days every 
 perpetrator in the "outrageous proceeding," as Alex- 
 ander persisted in calling it, felt himself in disgrace. 
 The only person on whom Alexander did not appar- 
 ently drop tooth and nail was Bessington, to whom 
 he merely said pleasantly : 
 
 "Please don't think I am blaming you, Bessington. 
 A visitor, of course, is excused. Besides, I couldn't 
 reasonably expect you to share my feelings now for 
 my good name, as I might my present pupils." 
 
 At which remark, Bessington drew a long breath, 
 apologised profoundly, and told Mrs. Crofton that 
 Fafner had not yet learnt the art of hitting gently. 
 
 Poor Malby's consternation was deep and lasting.
 
 46 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 He could hardly bear to meet the army his dramatic 
 lecture had called into being; but they one and all 
 scoffed at his attitude and told him with kindly meant 
 but brutal instinct, that it was only because they had 
 not understood his story they wanted to test the possi- 
 bility of it. 
 
 But the most lasting effect of the event was the 
 sealing of a definite friendship between Bessington 
 and Mrs. Crofton. He never apologised for his hot 
 words to her, and she undoubtedly liked him the bet- 
 ter for it. Whether it was the snaring of the illegal 
 excitement, or the sharing of the high displeasure of 
 Alexander, or a combination of both, but Bessington 
 certainly found that Mrs. Crofton and he had a new 
 estimate of each other, and that when he should leave 
 Bath he would be the possessor of something he had 
 never wholly possessed before a woman's friendship. 
 
 As for Veronica, she pretended only to laugh at her 
 mother's disgrace with Fafner. "Madre's always do- 
 ing things like that," she said comfortably. "Uncle 
 Fafner will forget it in a week." 
 
 VIII 
 
 Alexander Fraser adored his sister, but it was quite 
 true, as he confessed -to Bessington one night, that at 
 times she tried him sorely. 
 
 "My sister is the oddest mixture/' he began diffi- 
 dently, again conveying a faint suspicion of accus- 
 tomed apology for her. "Her excessive sympathy with 
 youth and its careless ways leads her into all sorts 
 of scrapes and dangers." 
 
 "You mean about the rabbit," put in Bessington, 
 who knew he meant nothing of the kind. 
 
 "What rabbit?" 
 
 Bessington related the incident.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 47 
 
 "She never lacked courage," remarked Mr. Fraser, 
 after a moment's silence. 
 
 Bessington looked up quickly. 
 
 "Courage? It was not a question of courage with 
 her. It was pure instinct without judgment, and she 
 had no right at all " He stopped abruptly. 
 
 Alexander's rare smile brought out a singular like- 
 ness to his sister. 
 
 "As you doubtless told her?" he suggested. 
 
 "As I told her or tried to. Mrs. Crof ton's life is 
 of more consequence than a rabbit's." 
 
 They smoked in silence. Presently Fraser smiled 
 again. 
 
 "I had a visitor this morning on behalf of my sister. 
 Veronica called." 
 
 Bessington contrived only to look politely inter- 
 ested. 
 
 "She said if I was cross to her mother she would not 
 speak to me for a week, and, mark this, Bessington, 
 she threatened to make O 'Brian play golf with her 
 three times a week and be late for work every time. 
 She would do it, too !" he sighed. 
 
 "Why O'Brian?" Bessington asked the question 
 with an air of detached interest. 
 
 "He plays golf well and he has no time to waste 
 over it, or to be late. Veronica knows how to pick 
 her chances. Little imp!" 
 
 But his smile was indulgent. 
 
 Veronica at least had never tasted the rough side 
 of his sharp tongue. 
 
 IX 
 
 The snow had gone and left discomfort and mud 
 behind it. Fields and roads were alike unwalkable. 
 The whole countryside looked dirty and half washed, 
 and Mrs, Crofton had to hire a motor to get about,
 
 48 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 and declared she would perish of inertia. Veronica 
 frankly enjoyed the motor. 
 
 "I shall go abroad," said Mrs. Crofton one dispirit- 
 ing afternoon when they returned from a pump-room 
 concert. "Let's go to Corsica, Veronica. We have 
 always wanted to and never done it." 
 
 Veronica considered the proposition dispassionately 
 a moment, then she leant across to Bessington. 
 
 "When are you going away, Mr. Bessington?" 
 
 "Tuesday next." He said it with genuine regret. 
 
 "Very well," she announced with outrageous frank- 
 ness; "then we can go on Wednesday, if you like, 
 Madre, not before." 
 
 Bessington got up and bowed to her and she dropped 
 him a curtsey. 
 
 Her mother tried to look shocked and failed. 
 
 "You see," explained the unabashed Veronica, 
 "Madre always says we should never miss opportuni- 
 ties of making friends. Now Mr. Bessington will 
 be away ever so long, so it is just foolish to miss see- 
 ing as much of him as we can while he's here." 
 
 She looked at him with perfectly candid eyes. 
 There was no coquetry in her remark ; she was merely 
 stating an incontestable truth. 
 
 "There is something in it," agreed her mother, 
 "from our point of view, and we won't ask Dominic 
 for his." 
 
 He had been lately promoted to the line of friends 
 with Christian names. 
 
 "I certainly think Wednesday is the first day possi- 
 ble," he assured them. 
 
 "Also it will save Madre rushing things as much as 
 usual. It gives one time to breathe." 
 
 Bessington smiled. 
 
 "I don't think most people would think four days a 
 long time to prepare for a journey to Corsica." 
 
 "They would if they had Madre to deal with."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 49 
 
 "Don't you think," put in Mrs. Crofton, "that peo- 
 ple make a great deal too much fuss about prepara- 
 tions, as a rule? Things are simple enough if one 
 only knows one's own mind. We shall just go to 
 Genoa, where we know the hotels and wire from there 
 to the best hotel in Ajaccio and take the first good 
 boat across. We never take much luggage. It saves 
 a lot of worry to buy things there if one wants them." 
 
 "Madre loves finding she has no clothes and buying 
 native costumes," cried Veronica mischievously. 
 
 "Yes, I do, if they are pretty." 
 
 Bessington knew instinctively the clothes would be 
 bought if they happened to suit Veronica.
 
 5 o FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 "He Who Is Enmeshed in Love's Toils Must 
 Expect to Find His Sight Grow Hazy in the 
 Glamour." 
 
 IT was June before Bessington again visited Priest's 
 Park, though he did not pass through the entire in- 
 terum without news of Mr. Fraser and incidentally of 
 the Croftons, who did not return to England till April. 
 From April onwards Bessington's desire to return 
 to Bath augmented each week. He could easily have 
 satisfied the craving by a week-end visit to Mr. Fraser 
 at any time, but it was characteristic of him to force 
 his desire into his habitual harness of self-control, 
 denying it other food than those impressions and recol- 
 lections stored up in his mind of the two individuals 
 who had, without his will, become such important fac- 
 tors in his life. He fed himself thus, till the impres- 
 sions became so thin he was in doubt of their relia- 
 bility. Not, however, with regard to Veronica, be it 
 noted. There his impressions needed neither correc- 
 tion nor superimposition, though they clamoured for 
 more food. He meant to marry Veronica if the will 
 of man could compass it. He still attempted no 
 analysis of her, or of his own love. Its very unreason- 
 ableness in the point of age his and hers its dura- 
 tion and its poor chances were in his eyes the guaran- 
 tee of its solidity. This resolution towards marriage 
 grew with the passing months, from the misty condi-
 
 Si 
 
 tion of a far-off dream to that of a practicable fact, 
 within measurable distance of accomplishment. In its 
 growth there was also an element of unreason as 
 great or greater than in his love. It was chiefly on 
 account of this ultimate purpose of his that he held 
 in check his desire to visit Bath, for his reason at 
 least recognised Veronica's youth, and the enormous 
 factor Mrs. Crofton must play in the success or fail- 
 ure of his undertaking. It was his impressions of Mrs. 
 Crofton herself that needed clarifying and correcting, 
 and it was the problem of Mrs. Crofton that occupied 
 his outward intelligence, at least so he believed. 
 
 Then one Saturday, at the beginning of June, he 
 found himself leaning over the terrace wall at the 
 Haven by Mrs. Crofton's side, watching the tennis 
 that was in progress below them. 
 
 He had arrived that morning and found Mrs. Crof- 
 ton entertaining a house full of girls, and tennis parties 
 the order of the day. 
 
 All the way down in the train he had told himself 
 she could not possibly be so young as his memory pic- 
 tured her, either in person or soul ; but, watching her 
 face now, half shaded under her wide hat, he found 
 he could alter no impression. Just so had he seen, 
 in his mind's eye, her oval face and rather tanned com- 
 plexion with its glow of health; the rather large but 
 well-shaped mouth, at once strong and tender, and the 
 sweeping line of her tall figure. Then she turned to 
 him, and he saw her eyes. Those eyes in which so 
 much more than youth was included. Here was what 
 he had forgotten. He was suddenly conscious that 
 she was older than he, and in a mysterious way he 
 was at once relieved and satisfied at it. 
 
 "It's splendid to watch Eve serving. I love the 
 spring and swerve of him." She indicated something 
 vaguely with a sweep of her hand. "It's so good to 
 see young, free things move the beauty of free ac-
 
 52 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 tion, the glory of physical life! No mere work of 
 art conveys it." 
 
 " 'The Disk Thrower' ?" he suggested. 
 
 She knitted her brows and then nodded. 
 
 "Well, perhaps great things like that suggest it, but 
 it's not suggestion there" indicating the players 
 again "it's real! I am not truly artistic, because I 
 always want beautiful things translated into action 
 great poems, or pictures, or music what you wtll. I 
 want to see it alive and manifest here !" She stopped 
 a moment, and then continued in her half -eager, intro- 
 spective way: "Of course the very best manifesta- 
 tion is only a shadow of the real thing at present, but 
 it's youth that casts that shadow, and that's why I 
 love young people and young things round me it's 
 not that they hold promise of greater things, but they 
 are themselves the shadow of them. They are, after 
 all, so much nearer the original thought." 
 
 "You are hard on age," he protested. 
 
 "Only because age turns its back on youth so quickly 
 and doesn't value it. To keep the divine fire of youth 
 and with it the wider sense that comes of experience, 
 still to possess the faith when it's really hard to have 
 any faith at all those are the desirable things that set 
 age apart from us if we would only believe it. It's 
 not mere years !" 
 
 Bessington frankly abandoned the pretence of watch- 
 ing the game and altered his position so he could watch 
 her face instead. 
 
 "Is that your own receipt ?" he asked quietly. 
 
 "So far as the world permits it," she answered, 
 smiling. "I do love youth and all things that are 
 healthy and strong and beautiful, and children. Not 
 necessarily babies. They are sweet, of course, but they 
 don't cast the shadow of perfection. We don't want 
 them to remain babies but children like those" she 
 indicated the players below "I try in a way to keep
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 53' 
 
 step with them, but experience is always getting in the 
 way of instinct. I know and see what's coming and 
 it's hard sometimes to sit still and let them have the 
 joy of discovery for themselves." 
 
 "Sometimes it's not all joy that discovery," he re- 
 turned a little grimly. 
 
 "But often that is because we can't read correctly. 
 Grown-up people are so ready to point out that what 
 looks like a joy is really a grief, instead of letting 
 them find out for themselves, when they have also had 
 time to learn how difficult it is to know what consti- 
 tutes real joy or sorrow. Oh, I always feel we have 
 no right to be always instructing them !" 
 
 Adam Preston made another brilliant serve and won 
 the set. The girl who was playing with him and 
 who had certainly done her share towards victory ac- 
 cepted the triumph without surprise and seated herself 
 on the bank between the three other girls who were 
 watching. 
 
 "She plays well," remarked Dominic. 
 
 "Yes; that's Mary Fuller, my god-daughter. She 
 is a dear girl, but she really cares for nothing in the 
 world but outdoor sports. I thought Eve would like 
 her," she added naively. 
 
 "Does he?" 
 
 "He likes her as a tennis partner." 
 
 "Who's the girl in pink?' 
 
 "Stella Forrester Mark's sister." Mrs. Crofton 
 spoke rather slowly. They both looked at the pink- 
 gowned girl a moment 
 
 "Don't you think she is pretty?" 
 
 Bessington refused to be hurried to a polite judg- 
 ment. He still took time. 
 
 "Her eyes are too big," he said quietly. 
 
 "Most people admire big eyes." 
 
 There was an intangible something in Mrs. Crof- 
 ton's voice that brought his attention to her face again.
 
 54 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "It is clear that some one down there admires them," 
 he commented, with a smile. 
 
 Mrs. Crofton turned to him with a certainty of find- 
 ing sympathy and understanding, which revealed to 
 Bessington that their friendship was something more 
 than acquaintanceship. 
 
 "I asked her for a day or two because she is Mark's 
 sister and because Eve spent all the Easter vacation 
 fishing in the Wiley Valley, and the Forresters live at 
 Pieceminster. If it really meant nothing, it would 
 get rubbed out best amongst others, and if it were seri- 
 ous it would be better to know. Besides, I really 
 wanted to see what she was like." 
 
 It was as if she challenged him to find fault with 
 her invitation or its intention, and he on his part 
 found himself weighing the merits of the case and 
 pronouncing her guiltless at the bar of common 
 sense. 
 
 He realised sharply that Mrs. Crofton was a factor 
 of importance in the lives of these young people who 
 surrounded her. 
 
 "And what do you think of her?" 
 
 She frowned in a puzzled way. 
 
 "I am not certain yet. I can see what Eve thinks of 
 her at present, which is perhaps more important" 
 then quite suddenly she turned to him with obvious 
 consternation "I don't know in the least why I should 
 be talking to you of all this. Please don't think I am 
 in the habit of discussing other people's affairs with 
 a third person. I can't give you any reason except that 
 it is you, which is quite unreasonable." 
 
 She looked so anxious and so entirely oblivious of 
 the compliment to her listener that he felt oddly per- 
 turbed at its sincerity, and hastened to assure her 
 that it was not unreasonable, but that he liked to con- 
 sider himself part of Fafner's establishment as much 
 as she did, Which remark had the success of making
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 55 
 
 her laugh. She went on hurriedly to relate Mark's 
 history. 
 
 Mark had had a post offered him a month ago, 
 on the condition that he could take it at once and sail 
 for India in a week. It meant flinging up the exam- 
 ination, but it had not been all wasted work, as he 
 could not have had the post offered him if he had 
 not had a fair chance of passing the examination. It 
 meant good immediate pay, which weighed heavily 
 With him, and he had gone. 
 
 "Alexander was very good about it," she added. 
 "There was always a doubt over Mark's languages." 
 
 She did not offer, as she might have done, any ex- 
 planation as to how the offer came to be made. 
 
 It was obvious that with a garden full of guests 
 Mrs. Crofton could not spend the whole afternoon 
 talking to Dominic Bessington. Yet as she moved 
 from one to another she was conscious of his presence 
 in her garden, as of some one to whom she could 
 turn, not for material assistance any one of the boys 
 were at her command that way but for that mutual 
 understanding and support that wanted no command, 
 but was there foreseeing and foreknowing. She rec- 
 ognised in Bessington's interest in others something 
 akin to her own quick sympathy, and drew moral sup- 
 port from it. Once, watching him play, a grown man 
 amongst all those slim boys, it crossed her mind that 
 he himself was a shadow, not of perfect youth but of 
 a still more perfect maturity. 
 
 II 
 
 Another set was over down on the lawn below, 
 and Adam took a well-earned rest. He approached 
 the row of girls sitting on the bank, and Veronica 
 made room for him between herself and Stella For- 
 rester.
 
 <56 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 Stella, with an almost horrified look, edged nearer 
 to her next neighbour, and though Eve's intention of 
 sitting there was most plainly not to talk to Veronica, 
 he found he had to do so or maintain silence, for Stella 
 had nothing to say to him. He bore it for some time 
 with patience and then told her he had brought some 
 photographs over that he had taken in the Wiley Val- 
 ley and they were in the house if she cared to see 
 them. If he expected her to jump up and suggest see- 
 ing them, then and there, he was disappointed. She 
 did not seem particularly interested, merely remarking 
 it was a pretty part for photography. 
 
 Adam got tired of waiting for her mood to change, 
 and went off to umpire for the men. 
 
 A little later, when he went to the house to fetch 
 something for Mrs. Crofton, he found Stella in the 
 porch and she asked him, with rather a diffident air, 
 where the photographs were. 
 
 Instead of at once gratifying her tardy interest, Eve 
 stood before her and looked at her with puzzled eyes. 
 
 "What have I done, Miss Forrester ?" 
 
 "It was Veronica, not you," she answered hurriedly. 
 "At least I don't know what you mean!" 
 
 "You would hardly speak to me down on the lawn 
 just now." 
 
 She burst out with curious petulance: 
 
 "Why should Veronica assume you wanted to sit 
 by me in that undisguised way ?" 
 
 Adam looked relieved and even smiled. 
 
 "Veronica is good at guessing sometimes, but if 
 you didn't want me to sit by you I'm sorry." 
 
 He could not in the least see her point of view, or 
 even recognise she had one apart from his own. It 
 seemed to him quite natural that Veronica should know 
 he would like to sit next to Miss Forrester, who must 
 be very shy if she could be embarrassed by anything 
 Veronica said or did. However, he made his peace,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 57 
 
 and took Stella into the drawing-room to see the pho- 
 tos. Stella was quite friendly and nice when they 
 were alone, but unaccountably distant and shy before 
 others. He did not understand it, but put it down to 
 shyness. 
 
 Mrs. Crofton watched them both without apparently 
 taking any notice of them. She was puzzled over 
 Mark's sister. It was not that the girl held herself 
 aloof, or was naturally reserved, as that her attitude 
 towards others seemed invariable antagonistic or too 
 obviously conciliatory. Mrs. Crofton could not wholly 
 resist the appealing mourn fulness of her eyes; she 
 found herself continually making allowance for some- 
 thing in Mark's sister that was unsatisfactory, though 
 she could not say what it was. She did not make 
 Eve's mistake of thinking her either shy or delicate, 
 both of which imaginary qualities seemed to rouse in 
 him a chivalrous instinct of protection, and which Mrs. 
 Crofton would have been well content to see more 
 dormant. If it had not been for Eve's evident infatua- 
 tion, she would have come to the conclusion that Stella 
 Forrester was rather "out of the picture" and not 
 destined to become one of her .best protegees. Still 
 there was Eve to reckon with, and she would far 
 rather study Stella to point of boredom than leave the 
 very unanalytical Eve to form opinions she was not 
 in a position to counteract. As to why it should be a 
 danger for him to fall even temporarily in love with 
 the sister of his best friend, Mrs. Crofton could neither 
 understand nor explain even to herself. She had no 
 dictum of common sense or even knowledge behind 
 her. She was only aware she instinctively felt there 
 was something prejudicial to his future in the fact, 
 and though contrary to her established custom she did 
 her best to quench the instinct, she never quite suc- 
 ceeded. 
 
 Stella, for her part, once she had got over her
 
 58 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 first air of hostility to a world of strangers, enjoyed 
 herself immensely at the Haven. She revelled in the 
 beautiful ease of the life, just as she rejoiced with 
 genuine emotion over a fine splash of colour or a lovely 
 dress, just as she seemed to absorb and sink into the 
 small comforts that surrounded her, much as a cat 
 will accommodate itself to the best cushion as one who 
 has at last found a fitted setting for itself. 
 
 HI 
 
 One evening, the third after Bessington's advent, 
 Mrs. Crofton learnt a bit more concerning her puzzling 
 guest. 
 
 It was the enchanting hour between dusk and night, 
 and Mrs. Crofton was seated on the lawn feeding on 
 the quiet peace which held the earth in its arms and 
 her with it. Stella came towards her in the dusk 
 across the garden, a grey-clad, fragile figure, hanging 
 on her steps, as if she feared to intrude. 
 
 Mrs. Crofton patted the chair beside her. 
 
 "Plenty of room," she said encouragingly, and the 
 girl sat down with a sigh. 
 
 "Why the sigh?" 
 
 Stella turned quickly towards her, and put her 
 hands on Mrs. Crofton's knees. There was just a 
 tinge of artificialness in her movement and attitude, 
 yet Mrs. Crofton could not but be conscious of the 
 pathos of the white face showing faintly in the dying 
 light. 
 
 "Everything is so beautiful here and different to 
 other places." 
 
 "It's a compliment, but a little unjust to 'other 
 places,' isn't it?" 
 
 "Not to those I know. Here, you don't seem to 
 care about understanding things or feeling them. You 
 are just content to live."
 
 59 
 
 "So are cabbages and roses. But seriously, I am 
 that content to live." 
 
 "You don't want to get through to realities, to real 
 things? You don't mind that nothing happens?" 
 
 "Things are always happening, my dear. Nice 
 things, too. I've had a lovely day on the river. I've 
 seen Veronica being made to do things by Mr. Bes- 
 sington which was most amusing. I've seen Eve play 
 tennis which is always a joy and I have talked to 
 the evening, which is the biggest happening of all. 
 Sometimes one can do that, and sometimes one can't, 1 * 
 she added dreamily; "one has to be in the right key." 
 
 "But you don't call those things important parts of 
 life!" 
 
 Mrs. Crofton wanted to laugh at the girl's morbidly 
 tragic tone, but she felt also a great pity for her. 
 To be twenty-two and so out of touch with real values, 
 was tragic. 
 
 "I rather fancy that those sort of things are the best 
 worth happening. Such a lot of people go through 
 the world waiting for thunderclaps to tell them any- 
 thing, and wasting all the time in between the noise!" 
 
 "But the sort of things you mentioned aren't 
 events." 
 
 Mrs. Crofton looked out at the lost evening that 
 had given her a renewal of peace as its farewell. She 
 was saddened that from one soul at least it got so 
 poor a response to its benediction. 
 
 "Everything that happens is an event. What is the 
 matter with many people is that they can't separate the 
 trivial ones from the eternal ones." 
 
 "That's what I mean." 
 
 "To really be alive and feel," went on Mrs. Crofton 
 thoughtfully, "one has just to be alive to the things 
 that go on happening every minute, and enjoying 
 them." 
 
 "One might hate them,"
 
 60 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Hating them isn't being alive at all. It's being ill. 
 If one keeps one's sense of beauty clean and fresh then 
 one gets to recognise the things that are really worth 
 feeling. And the best things are always coming again 
 and again like the evenings and sunsets and flowers. 
 But people look forward too much, you know, to what 
 may happen. Looking forward is letting the future 
 drag you on too fast. It makes young people old. 
 When one's old, one looks back and that's nearly the 
 same thing. It keeps you old. It's the 'now' that 
 matters." 
 
 "Don't you ever look forward?" asked Stella curi- 
 ously. She could make nothing of Mrs. Crofton's 
 point of view, but it roused a dormant curiosity. 
 
 "Oh, yes, pleasantly. But I don't invest all my in- 
 terest in the future. It's here now, in everything one 
 does all day. The future may be full of beautiful 
 things for me, but I am not going to lose what I 
 actually possess in worrying over them to-day." 
 
 "It may be full of horrible things." 
 
 Mrs. Crofton leant forward and tried to see the 
 half-averted face of the girl. She was sorry for 
 her, but not quite satisfied, as to the cause of her pessi- 
 mism. 
 
 "My dear, what has gone wrong with your to-day 
 that you mistrust to-morrow so bitterly?" 
 
 Then, since Stella did not answer, she added 
 quickly, 
 
 "Don't tell me, if you don't want to. I did not mean 
 to be curious, but it's all wrong, your thinking like 
 that!" 
 
 Stella leant back in her chair and still seemed to 
 hesitate. She meant to tell Mrs. Crofton her story, or 
 at least some of it. She could not have resisted the 
 temptation in any case, and she was possessed with the 
 odd idea that Mrs. Crofton would understand it better 
 than any one else. Her hesitation was due to th
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 61 
 
 doubt as to whether Mark had told this friend of his 
 his own version of the episode she chose to consider 
 had spoilt her life. Stella's lack of capacity to under- 
 stand others extended to her brother, of whom she 
 might reasonably be expected to know something, 
 but whose springs of action were undiscovered coun- 
 try to his sister. It would not have displeased her to 
 be the subject of discussion with a stranger, but she 
 was not certain that Mark's account would be sympa- 
 thetic. 
 
 "I should like to tell you," she said slowly. "I was 
 only seventeen when I fell in love with a man who 
 pretended to care for me. Then I found out he was 
 married. I ought to have been very angry, I suppose, 
 but I was only wretched. Every one seemed to think 
 it was my fault. I wrote to him, which I suppose 
 will shock you, and when he did not answer the letter 
 I went to see him. Mark fetched me back and there 
 was a terrible scene between him and Mark. After 
 that I was" she hesitated a second "I was ill and 
 nervous, and Mark made Mother send me to a doctor 
 in Germany. I was very miserable there, but I got 
 better. Now I am home again. Every one in the place 
 knows I cared for the man, and they are not nice to 
 me, and Mother goes on thinking my heart is broken, 
 and that all is over for me. Sometimes I think so, too. 
 It is dreadful to be only twenty and feel all is over!" 
 
 The real tragedy in her voice was terrible, whatever 
 the cause. Yet, even so, some note in it prevented 
 Mrs. Crof ton taking the girl in her arms and showing 
 her where lay the true tragedy of her dull little story. 
 She felt at heart that what Stella needed was not pity 
 so much as bracing criticism and she gave it as kindly 
 and gently as only she could do. 
 
 "But it's hardly begun! You must never allow 
 yourself to think that because you've made a mistake 
 once, that life's going to cast it back on you all the
 
 62 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 time! If that were so, where would any of us be? 
 We all make mistakes some time or other. The great- 
 est mistake of all is to go on remembering it. Of 
 course," she went on dreamily, after a little pause, in 
 which Stella made a faint movement of her hands, 
 dimly discernible in the dark she had white and 
 pretty hands "of course, Love is never trivial. It 
 always stands for something in life, whether it's a 
 mistake or not, as to the final result. Every time one 
 falls in love, till the big thing comes along, one should 
 find one's capacity for love deepen and widen. It's 
 all going to school. Here and there one gets a soul 
 with a genius for love that needs no schooling, but 
 springs to its pinnacle at once, but for most of us ordi- 
 nary mortals training is necessary." 
 
 Most assuredly Stella was experiencing something 
 new now, if she could recognise it. It was not the 
 first time she had told her story, though she had never 
 related it in precisely those cold, dull words before; 
 but it had never been received in quite this spirit, and 
 the novelty was not displeasing. 
 
 "Most people believe one can only love once," she 
 said doubtfully. She was not going to succumb to 
 Mrs. Crofton too easily. She must feel sure, before 
 she abandoned her role of unhappy heroine, that she 
 would reap some advantage from a change of view. 
 
 "Most people are stupid," laughed the other. "It 
 would be a sad life for many if one could only love 
 once ! I am not speaking," she went on, with a deeper 
 note in her voice, "of that love I call genius, but of 
 that which falls to the lot of most of us mortals. God 
 help us if we are only to feel it once in our lives! 
 You'll fall in love again some day oh, yes, you will. 
 There are plenty of nice, honest, straight men in the 
 world worth loving, and a very good touchstone of the 
 worth of the love you have to offer them is whether, 
 Vi loving, you find your heart opens wider to all the
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 63 
 
 rest of the world, or shuts itself up and the man you 
 love with it. If it does that, it's not genuine but spuri- 
 ous love. What you have to do is to stop thinking 
 once and for all about what you call your mistake. 
 It's done with. You have learnt something. Learnt, 
 for example, that love can override all conventions. 
 I expect it was quite a real thing, that love of yours, 
 for the time. But don't take what's happened too 
 seriously. Almost every other woman you meet will 
 have made a muddle over her love affairs some time or 
 other. Either she hasn't recognised it, or she's missed 
 it, or she's lost it. If we were all to sit down and think 
 our life was ended because love for the nonce had 
 flown out of the window, it would be a dull world. I 
 think," she added, bending forward and stroking 
 Stella's arm gently, "that it was nice of you to tell me 
 about it. Now make up your mind to bury it and 
 never, never own you are beaten, because of one little 
 experience." 
 
 Stella wondered, as she followed Mrs. Crofton in- 
 doors, whether any particular meaning lay behind her 
 words. Had she, or had she not, noticed Adam Pres- 
 ton's behaviour? 
 
 Veronica and Bessington were in the drawing-room 
 at the piano. There was a shadow of reproach in Bes- 
 sington's eyes as he met Mrs. Crofton's apologetic 
 look. The meshes that drew him were very tangled 
 now. He had had a fight with himself to resist the 
 lure of the night and a walk which Veronica proposed. 
 The night was for lovers and he was not yet a de- 
 clared one. He thought with vague unreason that 
 Mrs. Crofton ought to have known to what a trial her 
 long absence had put his ideas of fit and proper be- 
 haviour. 
 
 Stella Forrester went away two days after her talk 
 with Mrs. Crofton. Her regret at leaving was un- 
 doubtedly a shade more genuine than the kindly
 
 64 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 worded farewells of her new friends. Veronica's sole 
 remark, when she was actually gone, was, "Poor old 
 Mark! How she must bore him!" Mr. Eraser said 
 diffidently to his sister that he did not consider Miss 
 Forrester quite like her usual guests, to which she had 
 replied that, "One pattern made for monotony," but 
 in her heart of hearts she was glad that Stella had gone 
 and a little ashamed of it. It was impossible to dis- 
 cover any adequate reason for her strange sensation of 
 mistrust. She was not unused to meeting girls with 
 a morbid tendency, and not infrequently acted as a 
 very efficient doctor for the insidious disease. But in 
 this case her will to do anything was strangely dor- 
 mant. She was sorry for Stella, and for Mark's sake 
 she wanted to do what she could for her. But she 
 was a creature of instinct. The help she gave so liber- 
 ally to her world was spontaneous. She laid no plans, 
 she acted on no rule, she did not even correctly gauge 
 her own use. Only when occasions came her way 
 and she felt the impulse to straighten out some tangle 
 or help some prematurely crippled wayfarer along the 
 road, she acted on that impulse to the full measure. 
 Here no impulse was behind her. Nothing stronger 
 than a mere wish to be kind, if she could, to Mark 
 Forrester's sister. 
 
 She had driven to the station with Stella to see her 
 off and found Adam there. He professed less surprise 
 at seeing them than Stella did at his presence. He 
 supplied her with papers and chocolates to last two 
 such journeys as lay before her. Afterwards he drove 
 back with Madre and talked of the latest comic opera 
 till they were mounting the hill. Then, when a little 
 silence had fallen between them, Mrs. Crofton said : 
 
 "How did you know that Stella was going by this 
 train?" 
 
 "She told me so last night." 
 
 "She only settled it this morning."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 65 
 
 He gave a little frown and moved uneasily. 
 
 "Well, I suppose she wasn't quite sure till this morn- 
 ing. She said she might go by it." 
 
 That might certainly have been true. Felicity gave 
 her the benefit of the doubt. 
 
 "She seemed very surprised to see you." 
 
 "I hadn't said I was coming." 
 
 She found it harder to give Stella the benefit this 
 time. If she had mentioned a time at all to Adam, it 
 should have been perfectly clear to her he would prob- 
 ably turn up at that time. She sighed a little. 
 
 "Miss Forrester is shy," said Adam abruptly, "and 
 she gets nervous and confused when people are just 
 decently polite to her. I should think the poor girl had 
 a pretty rotten time of it, altogether. Pieceminster is 
 an awful hole." 
 
 "She is pretty, don't you think, Adam?" 
 
 "Ripping, but awfully delicate. I wonder if she is 
 properly looked after." 
 
 "Her mother is quite old and seems wrapped up in 
 Mark." 
 
 "It was jolly of you to ask her, Madre." 
 
 "I did it to oblige Mark, not you," she answered, 
 laughing. 
 
 "So I supposed." 
 
 She looked him straight in the face. 
 
 "Are you in love wth her, Eve ?" 
 
 He met her eyes quite frankly, but she was aware 
 of a veil dropped between his real thought and her- 
 self. 
 
 "I'm sorry for her," he said. "Girls seem to have 
 a beastly time. I'm glad I'm not one !" 
 
 "And you would make such a pretty one!" she re- 
 turned teasingly, just in revenge for his lack of confi- 
 dence in her. 
 
 "Every one has their misfortune to bear." 
 
 He would not give her a chance of "rotting" him.
 
 66 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 He was aware that she was the least bit hurt by his 
 evasion of her direct question. He liked being treated 
 directly, as Madre well knew, and he would have liked 
 to give her a direct answer, but he did not know him- 
 self what the answer was, and at present he was 
 not particularly anxious to know. Stella Forrester 
 interested him in a disturbing way. She was pretty. 
 She looked delicate and she was unhappy. He hated 
 to see anything unhappy that was unable to help itself ; 
 and she was, he thought, very shy. He imagined he 
 understood her completely, that she was afraid of him 
 for some silly reason which rather put him on his 
 mettle to prove his own harmlessness. In his heart of 
 hearts he thought he was in love, but he prided himself 
 on being sufficiently level-headed to know that love 
 had no serious place in the timetable of a young man 
 aspiring to a commission in His Majesty's army, and 
 he had no particular inclination for a flirtation, at 
 least with "a poor, hardly used, little thing" like Mark's 
 sister. It was more satisfactory to think he really did 
 not know his own mind, and that that was lucky, since 
 it was quite evident that Miss Forrester did not care 
 for him! 
 
 Mrs. Crofton was a little comforted. She had 
 never deceived herself into imagining that Adam's lack 
 of impressibility was a sign of incapacity for passion, 
 once he was roused. But she decided that he hadn't 
 been roused by Stella Forrester, and, considering their 
 respective ages, that it was a fortunate thing. She 
 slept much the better for having come to that decision. 
 
 IV 
 
 Bessington saw more of Mrs. Crofton than of her 
 daughter during the following sunny days. It was 
 of deliberate intent on his part and not of necessity, 
 for Veronica included him in every undertaking and
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 67 
 
 was only resignedly tolerant of his preoccupation with 
 her mother. To Bessington himself the whole atmos- 
 phere was so impregnated with Veronica, the whole 
 little world so revolved round her, that he felt he 
 could not in the present position of affairs hear her 
 actual presence too often if he was to retain his hold 
 on solid ground. He retained it best in Mrs. Crofton's 
 company. His liking grew with his appreciation of 
 that intangible sense of fellowship which seemed the 
 very essence of her being. He began to understand 
 how in her company the sorrows of the world became 
 not more supportable but of less consequence, mere 
 ghosts of an unreal victory; how even evil things 
 seemed to loose their primary significance in her way 
 of viewing them from a new standpoint. 
 
 One small conversation on these matters remained 
 very firmly fixed in his mind. They had been speaking 
 of some obscure and ugly newspaper case it was not 
 Bessington who brought it up, but Mr. Fraser, who 
 had diffidently warned Felicity that the daily paper 
 would be unedifying reading for Veronica that day. 
 
 "As much as interests her will be," said Felicity 
 cheerfully. "Veronica can't endure anything ugly. 
 She'd turn her back on all shadows if she could !" 
 
 When her brother had gone, she spoke again to Bes- 
 sington as if her words required explanation. 
 
 "That is quite true about Veronica. She really 
 wouldn't be interested. Of course I know all girls are 
 not like that. The world labels certain things as evil 
 and the very label spreads the disease. Yet even in 
 this case there are conceivably countries where the 
 whole affair would be regarded in the light of virtue. 
 The label does mischief." 
 
 "But some things are fundamentally evil," he ar- 
 gued. 
 
 Felicity knit her brows in a puzzled way. 
 
 "Yes, that is so and yet what is evil?"
 
 68 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "The world still awaits that definition." 
 
 "Well, I think evil is not an entity in itself. It is a 
 comparative condition. It is that which is incompati- 
 ble to the ideal of God. Think it out. You will see 
 how it fits and simplifies matters." 
 
 She did not often give him glimpses of her hidden 
 beliefs and secret faiths in this way, but he grew 
 aware of their existence, aware that her infectious joy 
 in the present and her keen appreciation of visible life 
 was built upon a foundation hewn with laborious 
 thought out of the very centre of her soul. 
 
 He also, in these few days, made a discovery con- 
 cerning her relationship to Veronica, which seemed 
 to create a fresh tie between them, although unvoiced 
 and unvoicable. 
 
 Felicity's passionate love for her child was not only 
 maternal instinct. Veronica was to her something 
 more than a being of her own making, she was an 
 incarnation of that youth and joyousness which she 
 held as the essence of life. She would watch Veronica 
 with precisely the same glow of sharp pleasure she 
 experienced in watching Eve. All her movements, her 
 smiles, her grace, her exquisite beauty, stirred her with 
 a rapture that was purely impersonal. Bessington con- 
 ceived the idea that to maintain that beauty and grace 
 and that immaculate spirit of youth, Felicity Crofton 
 had sacrificed and would sacrifice herself without a 
 murmur, and that the little strain of selfishness in Ve- 
 ronica of which Bessington was fully aware was 
 due to this. Felicity, with the courageous eyes, ac- 
 cepted Veronica's little easy shirking of the disagree- 
 ables in life with a smile and shouldered any extra 
 trouble incurred cheerfully. And Bessington shared 
 her sentiments. He, too, would preserve Veronica as 
 she was. That very selfishness sprang from the clean 
 egoism of youth, which believes the world its own eter- 
 nal heritage. He sat talking to Mrs. Crofton one day
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 69 
 
 while Veronica played with a puppy on the lawn, and 
 sometimes Mrs. Crofton would lose the thread of 
 talk and find it tangled up with the puppy's string, and 
 sometimes Bessington found his companion's clear 
 voice become dim and uncertain, lost behind an echo of 
 pretty laughter, and the garden shut out in a golden haze. 
 
 For Veronica stirred him as nothing on earth had 
 stirred him; taught him primitive truths that he had 
 merely accepted hitherto as physiological facts; de- 
 stroyed his balance, upset his reason, and created of 
 his ordinary alert mind a chaos she alone could restore 
 to order. 
 
 As to what chance he stood with regard to Veron- 
 ica's favour, he could form no conception of it. She 
 made no disguise of the fact that she liked him. She 
 showed a spirit of complete friendliness; she was dis- 
 posed to grumble a little at what she considered her 
 mother's monopoly of him. All this was not love ; not 
 even the beginning of it. Yet now and again Bessing- 
 ton caught a fugitive glance in her candid eyes that 
 made him catch his breath, for it opened gates of won- 
 der. It was as if the Hidden Woman, the still sleep- 
 ing princess, stirred in her sleeping. There was some 
 faint movement in the flower petals round her, some 
 deeper, slower breathing than the quick, light breaths 
 of the child. None but he must wake her. This won- 
 der of womanhood must be for him alone, must wake 
 for him, stay with him, be his alone! The mere 
 thought of such a possibility flooded his soul with 
 alternate day and night of pride and humbleness. Yet 
 in his heart he knew he wanted Veronica's mother to 
 stand by him and see this miracle, and be content with 
 it and him! 
 
 Alexander Fraser watched all three. His habitual 
 air of anxious solicitude towards his sister took on a
 
 70 
 
 new tenderness. Watching her, his mind would go 
 back over the stormy years to the difficult, impossible 
 days when he was already a grown man, struggling 
 towards the shore of attainment on the plank of schol- 
 arships, and Felicity was a child fretting with all her 
 restless energy and fearless courage against the narrow 
 limits to existence decreed by an aunt, whose horizon 
 was bounded by the strictest convention and whose am- 
 bitions saw no further than a "suitable" marriage. 
 He thought with a renewed access of pity of those 
 strong, young wings beating against barriers the young 
 eyes could not see. He thought of that hastily ar- 
 ranged, most desirable marriage the desperate, igno- 
 rant spring for liberty, into a cage whose barriers 
 were visible enough and of iron. Of the struggle 
 there he would not think, indeed he knew nothing of 
 it; it was hidden in a silence that had never been 
 broken by words. 
 
 Then the golden, sunny years of freedom. The ful- 
 ness of life and the unquenched spirit of youth, blos- 
 soming so bravely, undaunted by its retarded spring. 
 He still thought of Felicity as a girl to whom all was 
 still possible. He understood her steady refusal to 
 marry, but then he had never yet seen the man he 
 considered entitled to marry her. So he had hitherto 
 thought. Now he was less sure! 
 
 VI 
 
 "You don't shine at steering, Veronica, either in a 
 boat or a toboggan," sighed Bessington, as he pulled 
 the boat's head out of a bed of rushes for the third 
 time. 
 
 "I prefer some one else doing it. Besides, how can 
 one steer and talk ?" 
 
 "It's been done," he asserted cheerfully, "Would 
 you rather row?"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 71 
 
 "Not for worlds ! I am far too comfortable." 
 
 She looked it. She looked also the personification 
 of a June day. The cushions round her were green, 
 her dress white, and under the shadow of her wide 
 hat her blue eyes looked at him with meditative con- 
 tent. He wondered why at times they were so inscrut- 
 able. They seemed to hold no medium between sweet 
 fresh candour and this meditative secrecy. 
 
 But Bessington had not yet arrived at the point 
 when he could discuss her eyes with her, so he re- 
 turned to the question of steering. 
 
 "I could make shift, perhaps, to row and steer, too," 
 he suggested, expecting to see her flash with indigna- 
 tion. Instead, she dropped the tiller lines with a sigh 
 of relief. 
 
 "How clever of you. I thought no one but Eve 
 could do that. You ought to have a little glass fixed 
 in front of you so you could see what's coming." 
 
 "Who would believe you were the energetic player 
 of tennis this morning," he groaned, with pretended 
 indignation. 
 
 "One can't be energetic all day. Never in a boat. 
 I wish Madre could have come! She steers beauti- 
 fully." 
 
 Bessington felt he ought to have resented the wish, 
 even on the merits of steering, but though he had been 
 and was still exhilarated with the joy of rowing Ve- 
 ronica all by herself up the shady reaches of the river, 
 he did not feel that Mrs. Crofton's presence would 
 have interfered very greatly with that joy. She would 
 so have appreciated the river and Veronica ! 
 
 "I can't imagine why people think they have a right 
 to send for Madre directly something unpleasant hap- 
 pens," grumbled Veronica, but as one tired of this par- 
 ticular complaint. 
 
 "I can imagine why they want to," he answered, pull- 
 ing hard again.
 
 72 
 
 "Oh, yes. But, after all, one wants lots of things 
 one doesn't ask for. If Mr. Lyle had died when we 
 were abroad, Mrs. Lyle would have had to do as she 
 could. Well, I am glad I'm not Madre!" 
 
 "You don't like depressing things?" 
 
 "No, I don't!" quite vehemently. "Who does? 
 Only some people know what to do and say when they 
 come up against them and some don't I don't! I 
 want to run away at once and look at something 
 nice." 
 
 She was entirely unashamed of her unheroic atti- 
 tude, and Bessington was not much concerned by it. 
 It would have concerned him far more to see her 
 struggling to do violence to her feelings in the face 
 of ugly facts. Since there were no ugly facts, how- 
 ever, he permitted himself one question. 
 
 "Suppose there was no one but you to deal with it?" 
 
 "Then I suppose I should have to face it. But I 
 hope sincerely there always will be some one else!" 
 
 She trailed her hand idly in the water, the rudder 
 lines lying limply beside her. 
 
 Through the grey-green foliage of the willows the 
 bordering meadows glowed golden with sunlight and 
 buttercups. Beside the reed beds the brown rippling 
 water offered wavering reflections and caught and 
 played roughly with the trailing water plants and flow- 
 ers that bordered the edges. There was a little creek 
 ahead, and Bessington's intention was to turn into it. 
 Apparently he altered his mind, and instead rowed on 
 rather rapidly. His quick eyes had seen, as he glanced 
 round, a dead dog lying on the bank half in and half 
 out of the water. 
 
 He hoped she had not seen it. It was an instinctive 
 hope, absurdly strong. She was gazing ahead, lean- 
 ing forward with her chin on her hands. Her eyes 
 not smiling, but full of mysterious shadows. 
 
 They shot round a bend of the river and he heard
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 73 
 
 her give a little sigh of relief. He knew then she 
 had seen it. 
 
 A golden afternoon a golden hour! Bessington 
 forgot his intention of studying what lay behind this 
 beautiful child. What did it matter when the Veron- 
 ica before his eyes made his head swim with joy of 
 beholding, when her voice set a song to the accompani- 
 ment of a whole world of lovely things! It was quite 
 enough that she existed. He did not want to under- 
 stand. He lured her on to nonsense again, and she 
 followed his lure so easily. The shadow in her eyes 
 disappeared and the smile took its place. A golden 
 hour ! 
 
 They rowed up as far as the Rapids, and drifted 
 home again in the sunset. Once when the river be- 
 fore and behind them was empty, she broke into song. 
 He let the boat drift along while he listened. When 
 she had finished her little verse, he just nodded ap- 
 proval. 
 
 "What are you going to do with your voice?" he 
 asked meditatively. 
 
 "Sing to Madre. What should I do with it?" 
 
 "Sing to the world !" 
 
 She laughed. "The world has got plenty of people 
 to sing to it and it doesn't interest me. Would you 
 like me to sing to it?" 
 
 "Not at all," he returned a little grimly. "I was 
 speaking conventionally. People are always supposed 
 to do something when they have a gift. I am glad 
 you are not conventional." 
 
 Presently she grew silent for so long that he asked 
 her what she was thinking about. 
 
 "I was thinking what a lot of nice days there are in 
 a year, and how I should like to make a necklace of 
 them to wear forever." 
 
 "To-day with them ?" he demanded, with a sense of 
 breathlessness.
 
 74 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Yes; it's been lovely and I'd thread it on the 
 sunset. Look at it !" 
 
 He turned and saw the transfigured sky all rose and 
 gold. Little detached clouds, like the pink petals of 
 a fallen rose, were scattered about the sky. The light 
 spread and spread and flooded the river, dyed the back 
 eddies crimson, and turned the bordering willows to 
 gold. 
 
 "I will make a necklace, too," he said in rather a 
 low voice, whereat she laughed. 
 
 "Men can't wear them ! It would be no use to you !" 
 
 "I could give it away," he answered slowly. 
 
 "Well, you can't take to-day, because I've bespoken 
 it." 
 
 Of all the hundred pretty answers he might have 
 made her he uttered none. Had the sleeping princess 
 stirred, or was it his fancy? Madre would know. 
 It was the first time he had caught himself actually 
 thinking of her so by the endearing Italian name they 
 one and all gave her. Madre, then, was the guardian 
 of this Princess, and without her permission he could 
 take no step further on this great adventure. He 
 would lose no more time.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 75 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 'The Man of Her Choice' 
 
 IT was Sunday evening. The little party from the 
 Haven, Alexander Fraser, his guest, and a few pupils, 
 were seated on the wide steps of the south front of 
 Priest's Park. The day had been hot and airless, but 
 with sunset a little freshness had drifted across the 
 earth. The long beds below the steps were full of 
 white lilies and the scent of them hung on the air. 
 Westward over the tree-tops the faint afterglow of a 
 solemn sunset clung to the sky, and far below them the 
 grey city set out her innumerable stars in faint re- 
 proach to a starless sky, where later the moon would 
 take command. Now at this hour between dusk and 
 dark a mantle of opalescent tints was wrapped round 
 the earth and invited peace. Down in the woods a 
 nightingale sang fitfully, as not yet sure of an audi- 
 ence. 
 
 The little group talked by fits and starts, mostly of 
 trivial things, for young men (and they predominated) 
 are not prone to give away their appreciation of na- 
 ture's moods. Alexander Fraser himself leant back in 
 his chair, thinking of far-off days beyond the reach of 
 memory, and it was Felicity who put his unspoken 
 thoughts into words. 
 
 "I love to think," she said slowly, "how long ago, 
 when there was no city here, down there, nor any work
 
 76 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 of man visible, the evenings came on just like this and 
 the earth waited for the moonrise as we wait, and it 
 was all just as lovely and perfect as now, though no 
 man saw it. It gives a sort of surety to it going on 
 even when men are not here." 
 
 "Going on still richer in beauty," put in her brother ; 
 "for isn't all this before us the richer for the thoughts 
 that it has inspired in men? At least we are richer 
 who have learnt to see not only with our eyes but 
 theirs, too !" 
 
 Veronica, who was leaning against his chair, think- 
 ing of nothing in particular, but just blissfully happy 
 because it was all so nice and comfy and pretty, said : 
 
 "There won't be anything original to think of soon, 
 so I am glad I am alive now, before it's all quite used 
 up." 
 
 "Like a queen enchanted who may not laugh or weep," 
 "How does it go on ?" began a voice. 
 
 "Girt about by beauty by days and nights that creep, 
 Soft as breathless ripples that softly shoreward creep, 
 Lies the lovely city whose grace no grief deflowers" 
 
 so quoted Felicity. 
 
 "I suppose that means it hasn't any tragic history," 
 said Adam. "All the same, there's a good deal down 
 there which isn't grace, if the poet Johnny means 
 beauty. It's all right from here, looking down." 
 
 "One has to be up high before one can look down at 
 anything," retorted Veronica. 
 
 "I never could understand poetry," he answered un- 
 abashed. 
 
 "Swinburne's all right," put in the first voice that 
 had started the quotation. "He doesn't go messing 
 round with daisies and cockleshells. He writes about 
 big things."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 77 
 
 "Mountains and railway engines," suggested Veron- 
 ica wickedly. "And what has size to do with it?" 
 
 "Subject, not size, matters," said the first speaker 
 rather sulkily. 
 
 Veronica soothed him down. 
 
 "I know you are right, of course. Madre loves 
 Swinburne. But I'm like Eve. I can't really under- 
 stand poetry; only when the words come in a nice, 
 flowing, rolling sort of way I love to hear it. It mes- 
 merizes me." 
 
 Alexander Fraser began in a soft undervoice to 
 recite a Greek poem. Veronica, completely happy, 
 snuggled against his chair again. 
 
 "That's lovely," she said, as he finished. "And I 
 don't in the least want to know what it's about. Sounds 
 are much nicer than meanings." 
 
 The others laughed and proceeded to tease her mildly 
 by quoting long lines, genuine and spurious, which she 
 proceeded to criticise. 
 
 Meanwhile Felicity and Dominic Bessington had 
 gone away. He had seen her rise and go towards the 
 lily bed and stop there to scent up their fragrance and 
 he followed her. They both walked to the end of the 
 long path in silence and went down the steps to the 
 lower terrace. They had not spoken for some minutes, 
 and when they did Bessington went straight to the 
 point. 
 
 "I want to talk to you about Veronica, Mrs. Crof- 
 ton," he said quietly. 
 
 She did not answer at once. She had not been 
 wholly unprepared for this; indeed, she had fancied 
 herself well prepared, but now it was on her, the 
 event was more pregnant with meaning than she had 
 thought, and it was shot with an odd streak of pain 
 which she pushed away from her consciousness sternly 
 yet with uneasy wonder. 
 
 "What of Veronica?" she asked at length.
 
 78 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "I want to marry her. Oh, I don't mean now at 
 once, but I want your leave to try to make her like 
 me " He drew a long breath and waited. 
 
 "Go on," she said in a half-whisper; "that's not all 
 you want to say." 
 
 "No, it's not half of it, but it's the gist of it. I 
 know she is young, too young; but you must remem- 
 ber I have not many chances of seeing her, and if I 
 wait without having done anything, some one else 
 may step in and wake her while I am away." 
 
 She, in turn, drew a deep breath. "Wake her? Yes, 
 it's like that! Well, what else?" 
 
 "She does not know much of me, and you know 
 very little more. She has not had much time to look 
 about her, but even you can't say that she has not met 
 other men, or that she's seen nothing of the world. 
 You may think I am too old for her. I am twenty- 
 eight. I have never wanted to marry any one before 
 and I shall never want to marry any one else." 
 
 "And you want to ask me if you may marry her?" 
 
 He had never thought her voice could be so expres- 
 sionless, and it roused a fear in his heart that he would 
 not permit to grow. 
 
 "No," he said doggedly. "I ask your permission 
 to try for myself to make her want to marry me and, 
 if I succeed, your permission to do so." 
 
 Over the edge of the wood before them the rim of 
 the moon appeared. The nightingale decided he had 
 found his full voice and broke into song. But Felicity 
 still gazed into the shadows of the wood, and the face 
 which she kept turned from Bessington was white. 
 
 "I don't know if I need say to you that I love her," 
 he went on, the steadiness of his voice giving way a 
 little. "I know it is love. I cannot reason with my- 
 self over it or I should not be here now, considering 
 her age. But whether it's reasonable or not, I want 
 her, whatever happens."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 79 
 
 Still she kept silence and he was aware of her ten- 
 sion now, though he mistook its cause. 
 
 He concluded with a certain humbleness of tone 
 that caught her by surprise. 
 
 "Whether I am the kind of man you would be 
 willing to give her up to, I can not guess. That is 
 why I speak to you first. I know you and she are 
 part of one another. If you were set against me I 
 should have little chance with her and you may have 
 different plans for her." 
 
 "If I had?" 
 
 "I should go on wanting her." 
 
 "You would give, up trying?" 
 
 "Only while she is so young. I might not be the 
 one to wake her then, but I should hope still to be the 
 one to win her." 
 
 "Against my wish?" 
 
 "You have made plans?" 
 
 The reproach in both questions broke the tension. 
 Felicity turned to him. 
 
 "Plans? Yes, perhaps against my better judgment 
 I have had plans, or rather I have indulged in 
 dreams! What Mother does not? Oh, you men!" 
 she cried with sudden sharp passion. "How can a 
 mother not dream, not struggle with the thought that 
 somewhere out in the world there lives a man who 
 will one day come and take her child from her and 
 finish the work she has begun make it or mar it! 
 How many women's hearts ache with desire to get 
 at this man, to take him and probe into the depths of 
 his soul ; to say to him : 'This is what you must do and 
 this what you must not do if you want her happiness 
 and your own!' How many of us long to have the 
 training of him, to have some hand in preparing him 
 for the happiness he seeks, to which you will have 
 contributed just a half! For a mother, Dominic, can 
 only give the man something incomplete, and she can
 
 80 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 tell him so little, warn him so little of all the trifles 
 that may shatter her child's happiness and yet all the 
 while she sees, oh, so much more clearly than he sees, 
 both the real beauty and the real faults. She knows 
 the possibilities, he only guesses them, often never 
 even thinks of them !" 
 
 She stopped abruptly and turned away again. 
 
 "The bravest of us must fear. We are so helpless! 
 before custom! You talk of age! There is no ques- 
 tion of age if you can wake her; of our separation 
 but it is the end for which one has worked, that one's 
 child should find completeness, and that she can only 
 do through the right man!" 
 
 "And who is the right man?" he questioned slowly. 
 
 She turned to him impulsively, looking straight in 
 his face. There was light enough now for him to see 
 behind the agitation there a glimmer of great courage, 
 of sudden resolution, and he wondered. 
 
 "If I could choose of all the men who have come 
 and gone in my life," she said slowly, "I should 
 choose to give my child to you, Dominic." 
 
 For one moment her strange agitation communi- 
 cated itself to him. He was aware of curious tension, 
 of unexplained possibilities, of drifting dreams, and 
 then as suddenly it passed and she caught his hands, 
 and he, holding them, felt them trembling. He bent 
 his head and kissed them. 
 
 Felicity stood quite still, almost without breathing. 
 She was trying to recall what it was she had said, and 
 then his quiet steady voice reassured her. 
 
 "I don't know how I have earned that, but if I can 
 win her I will do all a man may do to make her as 
 happy as you have done." 
 
 "You will do more than that," she answered ear- 
 nestly, "because you will ask more of her. I have 
 always asked for too little, and I have been content to 
 be grateful."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 81 
 
 He wanted to tell her she was reversing facts, but 
 some sense of humility before a knowledge at which 
 he only guessed, kept him dumb. 
 
 Felicity also seemed to find it difficult to speak, but 
 she smiled at him instead and presently said : 
 
 "Come and see me to-morrow. There are things 
 still to say, but I can't speak more of it to-night. It 
 seems to mean more than I expected. Will you go 
 back to them? I am going home. You can bring 
 Veronica back." 
 
 He recognised a renunciation in her words and he 
 wished with great unreason to annul it, but her wish 
 was law and he went away reluctantly. Once he 
 looked back. She was standing with her hands rest- 
 ing on the balustrading, her face turned to the now 
 fully risen moon. She was very upright, very still, 
 very solitary. 
 
 Dominic did not at once rejoin the party on the 
 steps. He sat down in the long colonnade, thinking 
 deeply. 
 
 Felicity continued to stand there facing this experi- 
 ence that had so nearly swept her from her customary 
 balance. She had not been taken by surprise. The 
 possibility of such an event had been before her for 
 some time, had even been wished for. Nor was it 
 entirely her maternal solicitude which she had figured 
 so vividly and which had been hers for long years, 
 that was disturbed. Most certainly it was not distrust 
 of her daughter's lover. The deeper her reason strove 
 to probe into the matter the more swiftly did her soul 
 pile up barriers between that reason and some deep 
 living truth it was not to face. 
 
 The earth looked cold and solitary in the moon- 
 light. Black shadows chequered with pallid light; a 
 mere reflection of a light that was dead! She shiv- 
 ered, with something like terror clutching her heart. 
 To Veronica then to her darling was to be given
 
 82 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 an escape from the coldness and solitude that life 
 sometimes doles out to mortals. She would be happy. 
 She had been given the right letters to spell happiness, 
 and here was one who would teach her the right way 
 to put them together. Happy Veronica ! Lucky Ve- 
 ronica! . . . 
 
 And because it seemed to breathe of distant dis- 
 loyalty towards her child, she fiercely resented the 
 dim questioning whisper as to whether it was the 
 surest consummation for his happiness also ! 
 
 "I am glad, glad, glad," she said steadily, "that it 
 is Dominic! It is true I would have chosen him out 
 of scores of men for her, and I know he will win her. 
 Oh, you lucky, lucky Veronica ! Only those who have 
 failed know how lucky you are !" 
 
 Again the inner being in her soul fled behind its 
 barriers. She held out her hands to the moon. 
 
 "You, if your moon soul is still alive, ought to 
 know what it means," she whispered. "I wonder if 
 you still feel the light you give!" And presently she 
 turned and went into her own house. 
 
 After she had gone, Dominic returned to the steps 
 where the little party were still sitting. 
 
 "Veronica will have plenty of money. It has been 
 accumulating. I have never touched it," said Felicity. 
 
 She launched the statement at Bessington almost 
 before he had taken the chair she indicated to him. 
 
 The question of money was so remote from his 
 thoughts that he positively started, and for the mo- 
 ment could find nothing to say in answer. 
 
 "I have my aunt's money and my settlement 
 money. Alexander insisted on my keeping that." 
 
 Behind her level, unemotional voice Bessington 
 could distinguish a hardly schooled passionate distaste
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 83 
 
 for the subject. His impulse was to stop her, to 
 assure her he needed no explanation nor had thoughts 
 of any, but he held himself silent with an effort, divin- 
 ing that since she was forcing herself to face some 
 facts she would not do it without cause and her effort 
 must not go for nothing. 
 
 "I was married before I was eighteen. He was 
 much older than I was. My aunt thought it a good 
 marriage. He was rich and of good family and I 
 think he was in love with me. But he was a scientist 
 and his work lay in Germany. We lived there. He 
 loved the Germans their ways, their ideas of women 
 and life and I well, I hated it all most especially 
 their ideas of women. I have never been to Germany 
 since!" 
 
 Bessington remembered in a flash that he had never 
 heard her mention Germany as a scene of any of their 
 many travels. He looked at her fine still face so reso- 
 lutely kept in hand so that not so much as a fleeting 
 expression should betray those stronger feelings that 
 burned again in her heart at this facing of the past. 
 
 "I do not think my husband had ever been young in 
 his life, poor man! Still, matters might not have been 
 so bad as they were if his people had not disapproved 
 of me of the marriage, indeed. They were always 
 on the lookout for mistakes and I made a big one. 
 It was about three months before Veronica was born. 
 I was terribly unhappy, and fighting against all the 
 little futile arrangements that custom and the country 
 decreed for me and my child and I ran away! I 
 came to England, to Alexander. I could not have 
 managed it alone then, but there was a young English- 
 man in Frankfort whom I knew and who was the 
 soul of chivalry and goodness and about as unwise as 
 I myself, with the very best intentions. He helped 
 me to get away. Edward's people made capital out of 
 that, added facts which were not true. I learnt after-
 
 84 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 wards that he meant to get a divorce or separation, 
 and that if it were a girl I might keep it and if it were 
 a boy he would keep it. He was coming to England 
 to fetch me and see to this and he had a memoran- 
 dum of it all on him. He was killed in a railway acci- 
 dent on the way." 
 
 If she could have shown any emotion at all even 
 relief, Bessington thought it would be more bearable 
 than her dead, level voice going over this thing that 
 had hurt her so terribly, that she could feel no more 
 on its account. 
 
 "You see why I could not touch the money. But 
 it's right for Veronica to have it. His people have 
 never forgiven me. They considered him a genius 
 perhaps he was and he was working at some great 
 discovery. They have never had anything to do with 
 either Veronica or me." 
 
 "That is one point to the good," he said quickly. 
 
 "I felt you ought to know. Veronica's husband 
 would have to know." 
 
 He leant over the little table which stood between 
 them and put his hands on hers. 
 
 "There was no need. But I am more than glad that 
 I can keep Veronica without her inheritance. It will 
 just be extra, for her." 
 
 She turned to him swiftly with a little flush of sur- 
 prise on her face. 
 
 "There is no need of that, Dominic. You would al- 
 ways work of course, but it could be how you please." 
 
 "It will be as now," he answered firmly. "I, too, 
 would not touch for myself his money." 
 
 She clasped her hands together till they whitened 
 under the pressure and there was a flash of something 
 almost like fear in her eyes, but it was gone almost 
 instantly. 
 
 "But we are talking," he said hurriedly, "as if I 
 had already won Veronica.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 85 
 
 She turned to him with a strange little smile, and 
 he knew the other subject was forever buried between 
 them. 
 
 "As if you could fail when you have set your heart 
 on it !" Then she went on quickly, as one who had a 
 grip of the practical issues at last. "I should not wish 
 Veronica to marry for a year yet. She was eighteen 
 in May last. You must come to us as often as you 
 can. You may get engaged as soon as you like, but 
 a year hence is soon enough for you to marry." 
 
 "I wish I could take it for granted as you do !" he 
 said ruefully. 
 
 "If you are asking for personal assurance of Ve- 
 ronica's feelings towards you, I cannot give you any- 
 thing of the sort for I know nothing," she answered 
 swiftly. "I have told you my belief. It is for you 
 to justify it!" She conveyed the impression that his 
 failure would overwhelm her with disappointment. 
 
 Felicity rose and went out of the open French win- 
 dow into the rose garden, and he followed her. Her 
 tall slim figure moved a little before him for half the 
 length of the walk, then she stopped by a bush of 
 Madam Lombard and called his attention to the pale 
 delicate tint of a new bud. 
 
 "Isn't it sweet?" murmured Felicity, her light fin- 
 gers caressing the creamy petals. "It wants to be 
 liked." 
 
 "But I like this better; it means more," said Bes- 
 
 sington quickly, pointing to a dark glowing bud on a 
 
 bush near that reached out green leafy hands to them, 
 
 f claiming notice. With sudden audacity, seeing it was 
 
 not his garden, he picked it and handed it to her. 
 
 She stood still with a flood of colour sweeping over 
 her face, and then taking it put it in her dress without 
 a word of thanks, and as she was looking down he 
 could not see how her eyes were shining, yet he knew 
 he had pleased her.
 
 86 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 A sound of singing came trilling up to them from 
 the lower garden. 
 
 "There's Veronica back from the village," said Fe- 
 licity hastily. "I expect she will want you to play 
 tennis or something. I am engaged this morning." 
 
 She smiled at him with complete good fellowship 
 and he smiled back and went towards the singing, but 
 once he looked back at her, as he had the night before. 
 
 How young, how absurdly young she looked ! Had 
 he really noticed a faint little sprinkle of grey about 
 her temples or was it the sunlight that flecked her 
 hair? 
 
 The story and all the part of it she had never told 
 any one, was done with. It might have cut short the 
 wonderful spring of her youth, as cruel frosts in 
 May will blacken the promise of the year; but still, 
 with summer, had come new life, full, and perfect, 
 surely as beautiful as any promise of spring! Never- 
 theless he Bessington would never willingly touch 
 what had been that man's fortune if some good fate 
 should put him in a position to do so. It would have 
 seemed to him disloyalty to a friend ! 
 
 Veronica came round the corner of the house, and 
 straightway one forgot that it was a summer's day. 
 It had never been more than spring. Spring with a 
 song in her mouth, and a laugh in her eyes ! Bessing- 
 ton felt himself swept from all reason and common 
 sense. She ceased her singing, greeted him with 
 frankest pleasure, and carried him off to pick straw- 
 berries. 
 
 Felicity lingered a little in the rose garden, picking 
 off dead roses and giving half-hearted attention to the 
 needs of some favourites. Now and again her fingers 
 wandered to the rose she had tucked into her 
 dress, to make sure it had not fallen out. It was too 
 good a bud to waste with careless dropping. She took 
 it out and looked at it, just to be sure it came up to
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 87 
 
 her expectations of that particular bush. It had been 
 rather clever of Dominic to guess it was her favourite 
 rose, though of course that was chance. They had 
 stopped near it. Roses spoilt so soon if one wore 
 them, that she would go and put it in water. 
 
 She went to the house and up to her room, and 
 eventually the Princess de Sagen reposed in a little 
 glass by her bed. 
 
 in 
 
 A river excursion had again been proposed by either 
 Dominic or Veronica, but Felicity had excused her- 
 self on the score, first of being tired, then that it was 
 too hot, and then had promptly contradicted herself 
 and said it was "letters." 
 
 They had both protested strongly against all these 
 excuses but failed to move her, and had finally given- 
 it up. Felicity had overheard Dominic telling Ve- 
 ronica to give orders that some one saw that she had 
 her tea and did not forget it. 
 
 When they had gone she did not fall to on the let- 
 ters of which she had spoken. It seemed more as if 
 the first spontaneous excuse had been the real one. 
 She lay back in her chair for some time doing nothing 
 at all, and when she realised it, did nothing to remedy 
 the occasion. She just continued to do nothing. 
 
 There were many things she could do. The letters 
 really existed or ought to exist, the rose garden needed 
 attention, there was embroidery on Veronica's new 
 frock to finish; more awful still, a long-owed call 
 wrought a discord in her sense of deserved rest. 
 
 She very often sat doing nothing, for she had the 
 power of repose, but to-day she was aware of a lack 
 of desire, of interest, of a sudden lack indeed of 
 interest, or purpose in life! 
 
 For the past five years she had been moving steadily
 
 88 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 towards a certain event. That event was now on her ; 
 not accomplished yet, but to be accomplished. Until 
 it were so she was but marking time with life, hasten- 
 ing towards nothing! Fleeing from nothing! Be- 
 reft of purpose! 
 
 She never entertained the idea that Dominic might 
 fail in his suit, and she never entertained the least 
 doubt of the desirability of it. There was something 
 oddly personal in both of these certainties, which, con- 
 sidering the fact that she had never and would never 
 coerce Veronica into even a habit of thought, might 
 have merited meditation on her part. But meditation 
 on the subject of Veronica's marriage was the last 
 thing she permitted herself. 
 
 The thought that troubled her and made her hands 
 move restlessly was, what purpose in life was she to 
 pursue when Veronica was married! 
 
 She had never faced this fact before. 
 
 There were a dozen proteges and god-daughters in 
 whose affairs of the heart she had more than a passing 
 interest. But for the moment the interest was faint. 
 She told herself that was only because it was over- 
 shadowed by Veronica's affairs for the time and 
 that when these were settled these others would take 
 their place, but she was not quite convinced. If only 
 she had other daughters or a son! 
 
 She left off all attempts to be sensible and let her 
 imagination present her with pictures of the sort of 
 girl she would choose as wife for this imaginary son. 
 Then she desisted because she couldn't manage that 
 obstreperous boy without calling in advice from Dom- 
 inic and he might not like his brother-in-law! 
 
 He would, though! Any boy would like Domi- 
 nic! 
 
 She came back to the point she had started from 
 with faint irritation. It was an empty affair imag- 
 ining. Also it was rather an empty world.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 89 
 
 Adam Preston came in through the open window 
 and brought with him a breath of vitality and vigour. 
 He was dressed in immaculate white, and he was per- 
 fectly at home, making no apology for his entrance or 
 presence. 
 
 "Madre, you are very idle." 
 
 "Why shouldn't I be idle?" 
 
 He sat on the edge of a chair, dangling his hat in 
 his hand. His whole attitude and air conveyed the 
 impression that he was a petitioner. 
 
 "There's every reason why you should do some- 
 thing." 
 
 "Which means you want me to do something?" 
 
 "Yes. I want you to come for a spin in the car." 
 
 Adam's last extravagance was a small "runabout," 
 the best of its kind. Needless to say, Mr. Fraser had 
 protested against its presence, but weakly. The car 
 arrived with Adam, and stayed with him. 
 
 "I might as well never have brought it," he said 
 reproachfully. "You've only been out with me 
 twice!" 
 
 "You aren't going to pretend you brought it for 
 my benefit." 
 
 "It's useful for other jobs," he admitted, "but its 
 primary use is to take you out." 
 
 Her eyes ran him over with vast pleasure. She 
 forgot her coming lack of purpose. 
 
 "That beautiful white suit is not fit for motor- 
 ing." 
 
 "It's not motoring that I propose. It's only a spin !" 
 
 "It would be the essence of laziness on my part." 
 
 "It would be the acme of kindness." 
 
 "What about work?" 
 
 "That's done." 
 
 "Honour bright?" 
 
 He nodded and rose. 
 
 "How long will you be, Madre?"
 
 90 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Five minutes." 
 
 He went out with another nod of approval. 
 
 "I daresay, if he were my own boy, he would not 
 want to take me out with him," she thought to her- 
 self as she went upstairs to dress, but in her heart she 
 knew that he would that the son who would never 
 be hers would have treated her in all respects as these 
 boys treated her, as the dear comrade and desired 
 companion of their leisure hours. 
 
 She kept Adam waiting a few minutes while she 
 went into Veronica's room to make some trifling 
 arrangement with the blinds that might well have been 
 left to the servants. She stayed a moment more than 
 was necessary even, straightening some things on the 
 toilet table, and refused to hurry her steps, even when 
 Adam's new horn tootled outside. 
 
 "We'll go to Monckton Farley," he said as he 
 tucked her in and adjusted the dust screen. 
 
 To Monckton Farley they went by way of Combe 
 Down and down into the Avon Valley. Felicity talked 
 of cars, horses and cricket as one who knows no more 
 absorbing topic of conversation. When they crossed 
 the river and were running along the main road that 
 skirted the steep side of the valley, Adam slackened 
 the pace. 
 
 "Let's get out and climb up and find some air," he 
 suggested persuasively. Felicity looked up the steep 
 hillside. She had often climbed it, but never with 
 Eve. It would be good fun. In some dim recesses 
 of her mind she welcomed the thought as a challenge 
 to the insidious languor of the earlier part of the after- 
 noon, as a chance to prove that ability and will were 
 one with her energy, after all. 
 
 Adam ran the car to the side of the road and then 
 busied himself with the mechanism. 
 
 "No one can run off with her now," he said. "Are 
 you sure it won't be too much for you, Madre?"
 
 She was already on the top of the high bank and 
 looked back at him with scorn. 
 
 "Don't insult me, Eve!" 
 
 "Oh, well; it's no child's play, but it's awfully good 
 to get a climb sometimes." 
 
 They followed a little beaten track that led through 
 the fringe of beech trees and so out on to the boulder- 
 strewn ground above. Higher up sharp headlands 
 jutted out in precipitous manner from the backbone 
 of the ridge flying buttresses of nature's own mak- 
 ing. There was no disputing the steepness of the 
 climb, once they had left the path. Felicity took the 
 slope easily. She was in complete sympathy with 
 Adam's wish to get through the shadowy lower slopes 
 on to the sun-blistered heights above. She walked 
 with a firm, vigorous step and rejected with a smile 
 Adam's occasional offers of help. They wasted no 
 breath in talking and at the first halt neither of them 
 showed signs of distress. Adam gave her a look of 
 keen approval. He was accustomed to take it for 
 granted that Madre could do very nearly the same 
 things as he could do and enjoy doing them, but to- 
 day it did occur to him that Miss Forrester would 
 never have faced the climb nor would his mother. 
 He acknowledged to Felicity with half a smile that he 
 would like to see his mother tackle the hill, but he 
 did not mention Miss Forrester. The faintest possible 
 shadow crossed Felicity's face as she agreed it would 
 be too much for Mrs. Preston. 
 
 A look between them had decided their goal to be 
 a little grassy slope below a big projection of rock 
 which stuck out like a bare shoulder from the earth, 
 with smooth worn sides, some twenty feet high. The 
 grassy lawn that lay at its foot was sweet with wild 
 thyme and milkwort. 
 
 "What a ripping view!" said Adam as he flung 
 himself down on the soft turf, tossing off his hat, He
 
 92 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 was a little heated and on the whole showed more 
 signs of the climb than she did. She claimed her 
 superiority with pride and picked a little bunch of 
 thyme for his buttonhole as compensation. 
 
 She was still aware of a faint sense of compunc- 
 tion which the mention of his mother had aroused. 
 
 "What will you do if I fail, Madre?" he asked, 
 turning on his elbow to look at her. 
 
 "You are not going to fail," she assured him calmly. 
 
 "I'm no use at all at exams," he grumbled. "All I 
 know gets locked up in my mind directly the beastly 
 papers appear." 
 
 He tossed some bits of grass at her. 
 
 "I'm not sure I want to pass now. The army's all 
 right if there was any chance of active service, but 
 there isn't." 
 
 "Cheer up. One never knows ! And isn't it rather 
 late in the day to alter your mind?" 
 
 "It's the exams," he admitted frankly. "I don't 
 want to stick in a cavalry regiment doing nothing all 
 my life and if one wants to do anything else it's exams, 
 exams, exams, for all existence !" 
 
 "Hill climbing!" 
 
 "Mental gymnastics! I hate it!" 
 
 She turned to him suddenly. 
 
 "You have to pass, Eve," she said firmly. "It's 
 your career. You are cut out for a soldier. Heaps of 
 men who go up aren't and it wouldn't matter if they 
 failed, but with you it does. What's come over you ? 
 You are not to disappoint me !" 
 
 "I had thought perhaps on the whole I had better 
 fail," he answered gloomily. 
 
 She took him to task seriously and in ten minutes 
 brought him to the point of determination to "do" 
 the examiners or die ! Also to the resolve to specialise 
 directly he was in the army. 
 
 It was not the first time she had encountered and
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 93 
 
 worsted an attack of nerves in minds that would have 
 strenuously denied the existence of such weaknesses. 
 
 Then they ceased to talk "shop" and climbed higher. 
 This time it was Felicity who was in front. Eve 
 stopped to ferret out a small snake that had taken 
 refuge in a cranny. Felicity was directly above him, 
 leaning against a small boulder. Further down the 
 hill on the turf where they had first rested was Eve's 
 hat and below that far below was a disused quarry 
 breaking the line of fringing beechwoods. Felicity's 
 glances wandered between the distant view and Eve's 
 movements. 
 
 What a dear boy he was! He wanted handling 
 properly, of course. She loved his frank inability to 
 deal with anything more than the difficulties of a phys- 
 ical world, his clear-cut theories of life, his activities 
 and the astonishing grace of youth. Mrs. Preston 
 was a lucky woman. Felicity wondered if she prop- 
 erly appreciated her "luck." She had seen her photo- 
 graph. A small stout comfortable old lady with a 
 placid, sleepy face. Preston pere she had met. He 
 was also stout but not placid. He might have been 
 good looking once but never like Eve! Eve must be 
 a "hark-back" to a dim distant line of ancestors, virile 
 fighting men! He was almost akin to Dominic! 
 Here her thoughts drifted and had to be caught back 
 with firm insistence. There was really no likeness 
 between Dominic and Eve at all, or a very superficial 
 one. 
 
 One point of difference was that she would have 
 hated showing she was tired in Eve's presence, and 
 she would not have minded a bit owning a weakness 
 to Dominic. 
 
 Eve was still hunting for the snake. She moved 
 her position slightly, and doing so felt the stone 
 against which she leant rock slightly. It rocked more 
 than slightly. Its centre of gravity seemed to be
 
 94 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 shifting. Quick as thought she braced herself against 
 it, digging her heels into the slippery turf, and called, 
 
 "Eve! Eve! Get away to the left quickly! This 
 stone's slipping!" 
 
 He looked up, only half hearing her oddly strained 
 voice, and understanding nothing of her call. 
 
 "I've got it, Madre, in the hole here ; such a beauty !" 
 he shouted. 
 
 "Get to the left the left. It will fall if I move!" 
 
 He heard that and sprang towards her but directly 
 up in line with her. 
 
 "To the left!" she called again, but not very 
 loudly. 
 
 She was exerting every ounce of strength to retard 
 the slipping stone till he was safely out of the neces- 
 sary route. It had not actually started, but she knew 
 when her retaining hold was moved that go it must. 
 If her foot slipped now on the turf it would go over 
 her; if she let go too soon it would fall on him. She 
 saw him racing up to her, still not understanding, and 
 dared not waste strength on another call, though the 
 strain was breaking her. Then he saw, sprang to her 
 and caught her away. The stone, freed from the one 
 thing that saved its balance, rocked, slipped, and 
 plunged headlong down the slope. 
 
 Happily no other big boulder stood directly in its 
 path. It bounded on over the spot where Eve had 
 hunted for his snake, over the spot where his hat had 
 rested, annihilated it, and rushed on, leaving a trail 
 of scarred turf and slipping stones behind, right to the 
 lip of the old quarry, over which it plunged with a 
 splintering crash, and the rushing stream of stones 
 plunged after it. The echo of the fall died away and 
 the beautiful still of the summer day had it all its 
 own way again. 
 
 The two stood still, leaning against the side of a 
 solid piece of cliff, Eve still holding Felicity. He was
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 95 
 
 aghast at the real peril from which he had caught her, 
 but she was staring iixedly at the ground with her 
 hands clasped against her breast. At last he released 
 her. 
 
 "No one hurt ! But it was rather a near shave. It 
 wasn't a very big stone after all. Did you ever hear 
 of one slipping before? What a crash!" Felicity 
 made a great effort. 
 
 "I think," she said with great slowness, calculated 
 to disguise the unsteadiness of her voice, "that I'll 
 lie down and get my breath a bit !" 
 
 "You aren't hurt, are you?" he interposed sharply. 
 
 "No, only I think I'll rest!" 
 
 She sat down on the grass with her back against the 
 cliff and clasped her hand on her knees, smiling at 
 him. 
 
 Eve looked at her with worried perplexity. The 
 sequence of events had been so rapid that he had 
 hardly taken in what had occurred. Now he began 
 to realise that Madre had been subject to some big 
 physical effort. Her breath still came jerkily, and 
 there was an odd look in her face. His eyes travelled 
 along the scarred track down the hillside and at last 
 it dawned on him that he had been directly in that 
 track. Lower down still the remains of his hat were 
 caught on a bush. 
 
 "You saved me from rather a smash, Madre," he 
 said fiercely. 
 
 She gave a little laugh and stopped it, with her 
 hands caught at her heart again. 
 
 "What a fierce accusation! But boulders, even 
 that size, are heavier than one would think. My arms 
 ache a bit. I really think I will lie down." 
 
 He slipped off his coat and folded it into a pillow, 
 and she lay down with a pretty little apology for her 
 silliness. 
 
 "Go and play," she insisted. "I shall be all right
 
 96 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 directly. Go and climb up that rock and see if the 
 view is worth seeing from there." 
 
 He obeyed because he gathered she would rather 
 be alone, but he did not look at the view. He cleared 
 the clefts of the rock of moss in rather a savage man- 
 ner. 
 
 Felicity lay very still and looked at the sky. Her 
 brain seemed to work spasmodically. For a few min- 
 utes she was peacefully aware of blue space and the 
 sweetness of earth and then came a state of laboured 
 strength, of chaos and discomfort; these two states 
 alternated at irregular intervals. 
 
 "Madre!" 
 
 She sat up and looked round. 
 
 "I'm up here," said Eve from the summit of the 
 rock on which he lay. "Are you all right now ?" 
 
 "Yes. We'd better be getting back." 
 
 He reappeared by her side in a marvellously quick 
 way; looked at her sharply and shamefacedly and then 
 averted his face. 
 
 "There's no hurry. It's jolly here. Let's stay 
 longer." 
 
 "Well, take your coat." 
 
 "I don't want it. Doesn't the sky look fine when 
 one's lying down?" 
 
 She lay back again to see it with a little tender 
 smile at his na'ive anxiety. He turned on his face 
 and began plucking at the thyme and milkwort. 
 
 "You are a brick, Madre. I have been thinking 
 about it." 
 
 "Then change your thoughts. Aren't you anxious 
 about your car?" 
 
 "No." He took a little fitment out of his pocket 
 and fingered it. 
 
 Felicity said firmly they must return. 
 
 They went down slowly. Once moving she went 
 on without hurry. She did not talk much and she
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 97 
 
 did not reject the proffered help in difficult places; 
 also, she did not jump off the bank when they reached 
 the road. 
 
 When they were in the car and at point of starting 
 she said with a certain shyness: 
 
 "There's no occasion to say anything about that 
 stupid stone. It's a thing that might only happen 
 once in fifty years, and it might make people nervous 
 of going there." 
 
 "Just as you like, of course," he answered, knitting 
 his brows. "But don't invent silly reasons, Madre. 
 Are you sure you are not hurt?" 
 
 "I'm all right. But you know how silly people are." 
 
 Eve knew very well. He was in complete sympathy 
 with Madre there! 
 
 He insisted at stopping at Bathampton for tea in 
 spite of the lateness of the hour. Madre was loath to 
 leave the car so he brought tea out to her. It was 
 past seven when they reached home, and Bessington 
 and Veronica were on the terrace waiting. As they 
 drove up Veronica called out cheerfully, 
 
 "Had tea, Madre?" 
 
 On hearing she had, Veronica turned triumphantly 
 to Bessington. 
 
 "You see there was no need to bother. The kettle's 
 been kept boiling for nothing !" 
 
 "It might have been wanted," he insisted. 
 
 Madre seemed very content to take Bessington's 
 chair and sit with them, listening to what they had to 
 tell. She did not even seem greatly concerned that 
 Eve was late for work and would probably receive a 
 reprimand. She found nothing to say of her own 
 doings beyond the fact she had been for a nice run 
 in a little car,
 
 98 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 "It Is a Poor Achievement That Does 
 not Bring Content in Its Train." 
 
 IT was not till September that Dominic made up his 
 mind to put his fortune to the touch. He had already 
 established the right and custom of direct correspon- 
 dence with the Haven, and more particularly with 
 Veronica. For Felicity always found some good rea- 
 son why Veronica rather than herself should answer 
 such letters as Bessington sent her, and in this way the 
 girl, almost without realising it, slipped into more or 
 less regular correspondence with him. She made no 
 comment thereon, and generally handed his letters to 
 her mother to read. In fact, she betrayed by no sign 
 or word anything more than general pleasure at his 
 friendly attitude. Felicity was only half satisfied. It 
 was impossible to suspect Veronica of duplicity, yet 
 on occasions Felicity caught her daughter regard- 
 ing her with an affectionate air of secret amusement 
 that was disconcerting. Felicity suggested wintering 
 abroad, and Veronica offered no objection. Never- 
 theless the proposal fell into oblivion. 
 
 Then one Friday morning Veronica, who was read- 
 ing a letter from Bessington, announced that he was 
 coming down to Priest's Park for the week end. The 
 last two visits had been paid to the Haven direct. 
 
 Felicity, who was buttering a piece of toast, put it
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 99 
 
 down untasted and looked out of the window. Ve- 
 ronica repeated her news and her mother expressed 
 her pleasure, but added that there was no one at the 
 College but her brother and Professor Symons and 
 that he might find it dull. 
 
 "Shall we wire to Eve to come too?" suggested Ve- 
 ronica, with sudden laughter in her eyes. 
 
 She was a little taken aback by the eager look in 
 her mother's face. 
 
 "I wonder would he come?" she murmured. "It's 
 his last Sunday before Sandhurst." 
 
 Eve had passed his exam quite creditably. 
 
 "It is quite possible he might if you want him," 
 returned Veronica. 
 
 "Why should I want him, you silly child?" 
 
 She pulled Veronica nearer her and rearranged her 
 tie. Veronica submitted with the same little tolerant 
 smile of amusement. 
 
 "You and Eve both look your best in white," re- 
 marked her mother. 
 
 "Cream, not white! Wouldn't you love Eve in a 
 beautiful cream and gold uniform? Madre? Shall I 
 wire to him?" 
 
 "Why do you want him?" 
 
 "I don't want him. It's you who do." Then she 
 broke into a laugh. "Oh, Madre, you dear, as if I 
 did not know you liked Eve every bit as much as you 
 like me!" 
 
 "Veronica!" Felicity's face was stricken. 
 
 Veronica stroked it with her cool little hand. She 
 was not given to caresses, so it was doubly dear. 
 
 "Well, nearly as much next best! Oh, I'm not 
 jealous !" 
 
 "I don't want Eve." 
 
 "Very well; don't complain if Dominic wants to 
 spend all to-morrow on the river or playing tennis. 
 If he's no one else to play with, he will expect me to
 
 iioo FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 look after him, and unless you change the lazy ways 
 you have got into lately you will be left alone." 
 
 Felicity said meekly she would chance that. And 
 then to show she was not so lazy as Veronica hinted, 
 proposed walking down to the tennis court with her 
 where Veronica had to play off some ties in the local 
 tournament 
 
 "You ought to be playing yourself," grumbled Ve- 
 ronica. "It's the first season you've missed." 
 
 "I seem to have been extra busy," said Felicity has- 
 tily. 
 
 They started to walk down through the woods to- 
 gether, but half-way down Felicity recollected some 
 neglected duty and said she must return. 
 
 Veronica went on reluctantly. She was never given 
 to worrying, but lately she had felt a little uneasy 
 about her mother. She was quite definitely glad that 
 Dominic was coming. She would say nothing to him, 
 but she was convinced that if anything was wrong 
 with Madre he would notice it and the responsibility 
 would not then rest with her. Her anxiety was not 
 enough to influence her play. 
 
 Meanwhile Felicity, having watched her daughter 
 out of sight, turned and went very slowly up the hill 
 again. There were three or four seats on the way 
 and at the first she came to she sat down, apparently 
 forgetful of the suddenly remembered duty. 
 
 There was very little air and the woods were still 
 with that stillness that is the birthright of September. 
 A small red squirrel came and peeped at her from 
 behind a tree opposite. Felicity loved the woods, she 
 spent many happy idle hours there, but she had never 
 noticed till to-day how airless they were and how steep 
 the path that led homeward. She continued to sit 
 still there, though her mind urged her uneasily to 
 move. She could not think what it was she wanted 
 to do, but she had no wish to be idle.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 101 
 
 Dominic Bessington was coming with the full in- 
 tent of putting his fortune to the touch! She was 
 sure of it. Presumably he knew his chances better 
 than she did, for she knew nothing. She was suddenly 
 and terribly aware that she knew nothing of the real 
 intent and thought of the child, who had been her 
 closest companion for eighteen years. Yet Veronica 
 was candid and open as day. How had she failed her 
 daughter, or was her mental eyesight better adapted 
 for the masculine page? 
 
 She had heard herself from Eve, that morning, and 
 would have told Veronica but for her teasing speech. 
 
 In some inexplicable way her soul was groping after 
 the boy as if with him lay the refuge from many 
 things. 
 
 Dominic's eyes were too discerning. He would 
 see, she was sure, that she was "tired"; would be 
 awake to the hundred little subterfuges that Veronica 
 missed. No doubt it was all only a question of "being 
 a little tired" and taking things easily for a time. 
 There was not anything actually the matter with her. 
 They would winter at Darvos Platz. Felicity thought 
 with pleasure of the invigorating air. 
 
 Later on, when Dominic and Veronica were mar- 
 ried, she would make that trip to the far side of the 
 Black Sea. It had always fascinated her. Then 
 sharply she recollected that if Veronica should refuse 
 Dominic he would not come again. There would be 
 no more week-end visits. The odd sense of un-ease 
 that gripped her was distressing. So she rejected that 
 thought with an effort of will. It was not so well 
 worth entertaining as that Black Sea expedition. 
 
 When she eventually returned to the house she des- 
 patched a wire to Adam.
 
 IO2 
 
 II 
 
 Bessington arrived by the five o'clock train on Sat- 
 urday and he walked up. He had indicated as much 
 to Veronica in his letter. It was therefore no matter 
 of surprise that she happened to be strolling down the 
 woods as he came up. Veronica said frankly she had 
 come to meet him. 
 
 "Eve's here," she announced. "Madre thought it 
 would be so dull for you with only Uncle Fafner and 
 the Professor at the College." 
 
 She looked straight before her as she made the 
 statement. 
 
 "I shall be charmed to see Eve. Let's stop here a 
 bit. There's no hurry." 
 
 They had reached the edge of a precipitous slope, 
 where the beech tree roots, running far and wide, held 
 the bank together in their twisted fingers and the 
 branches themselves swept down to the mossy ground. 
 One could see the water in the little lake below and 
 the grey towers of the Abbey showed through a filmy 
 mist of heat. 
 
 Veronica was quite ready to stop. She was in no 
 hurry at all. She leant her arms on a swinging bough 
 and rocked gently to and fro. Her eyes were thought- 
 ful and shining. She was immensely happy, and 
 confident of life, and it would have taken a more dis- 
 interested man than Dominic to guess that she was 
 holding well in hand a delicious sense of strange well- 
 being. 
 
 "I did not come down just for amusement this 
 time," began Dominic. 
 
 He had prepared several speeches and one of them 
 began like this, but he knew he was saying it far too 
 soon. 
 
 $he nodded comprehensively.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 103 
 
 "Perhaps you wanted to see how I was looking 
 after Madre?" 
 
 She turned her half -a verted face a little more to- 
 wards him. 
 
 "No!" he had forgotten how the speech went on. 
 There was a singing in his ears. He had seized the 
 most inopportune moment. Nevertheless he plunged 
 on into his adventure. 
 
 "I came to to ask you to marry me," he blurted 
 out confusedly. 
 
 She still waited. 
 
 "You know, I think you must know, that I love 
 you, dear," he hurried on now. "I haven't said so, but 
 I think you must know." 
 
 She turned completely towards him, her eyes shin- 
 ing and smiling, and full of a confiding candour that 
 set him trembling. 
 
 "Yes, I know, of course! You and Madre! You 
 two adorable darlings. You both let me know!" 
 
 The little break in her voice was midway between 
 tears and laughter. 
 
 "And you ? Can you ? Am I too soon ? Veronica, 
 you must care for me!" 
 
 He caught hold of the bough on which she rested 
 and drew nearer her. His diffidence passed from him. 
 He was urgent, even fierce in his demand.^,. 
 
 "You must try to care, for I cannot do without 
 you, Veronica. You are the other half of me, I am 
 sure of it. So sure that I must be able to make you 
 care!" 
 
 On top of the sharp fear, born of her silence, there 
 slipped her caressing little voice, so much calmer, so 
 comforting, and cool to his heart. 
 
 "Of course I care! Should I be here else, or would 
 you be here? Dominic, you are a dear old stupid of 
 course I want to marry you as much as you want to 
 marry me!"
 
 104 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 He put his arms round her then and held her. 
 
 "Not so much as that but I shall teach you." 
 
 She leant back her head and her smiling shining 
 eyes looked straight into his. 
 
 "But I am taught, I couldn't want more. And you 
 couldn't make me love you, because I do that without 
 making!" 
 
 Dominic kissed her. 
 
 in 
 
 When they reached the Haven it had apparently 
 escaped Bessington's memory that he was Mr. Eraser's 
 guest and not Mrs. Crofton's. It was Veronica who 
 reminded him of the fact, but he insisted he must see 
 Madre without loss of time. 
 
 Felicity had just absently acquiesced to Eve's state- 
 ment that either Bessington's train was outrageously 
 late or that he and Veronica were playing truants. 
 She had herself proposed a walk with Eve, but when 
 ready had lingered restlessly in the garden. She heard 
 the click of the gate as the two entered, but though 
 she had her back to it, she did not turn. It was Eve 
 who announced their arrival. 
 
 When Felicity did turn she still did not go to meet 
 them, but remained near the terrace wall, struggling 
 with the inordinate sense of fatigue that had overcome 
 her. As they came nearer she heard Eve say half 
 under his breath: 
 
 "Hullo, something's up!" 
 
 She looked at Bessington first. Then at Veronica* 
 who held his hand and stood before her with a pretty 
 air of confident happiness. 
 
 "Well, Madre, are you content?" 
 
 It was Veronica who spoke. Eve slipped quietly 
 indoors.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 105 
 
 Her gaze ranged from one to the other. It was 
 glad. It was wistful. It was satisfied. 
 
 "If you are both of you as content as I am, there 
 will be enough of happiness for you," she said softly. 
 
 Then with a little hurried catch in her voice she 
 added, 
 
 "And so I think if you don't mind I will go 
 for my walk with Eve just the same." 
 
 She kissed Veronica quickly and went after Eve. 
 She had not spoken to Bessington, only touched his 
 hand and that and her look had been enough to seal 
 his content. Two minutes later they saw her and Eve 
 go out by the north gate. They had neither spoken 
 till now. 
 
 "I shouldn't have liked you half so much, Dominic," 
 said Veronica, "if you hadn't liked Madre so much." 
 
 Bessington assured her that if her liking of him de- 
 pended on that, she could continue to like him in the 
 most conscientious manner. 
 
 IV 
 
 Felicity had stipulated for a year's engagement, but 
 circumstances and Veronica's own wish lengthened 
 this time by six months. Veronica found it very 
 pleasant being engaged, and as she wisely said, "If 
 they were going to spend the rest of their lives being 
 married, there could be no valid objection to spending 
 eighteen months being engaged, since that could not 
 occur again." Dominic submitted patiently. He com- 
 plained a little to Madre, but she refused to press Ve- 
 ronica and on the whole he too had to admit it was 
 a pleasant time. He spent most of his week ends at 
 Priest's Park, and Felicity for their sakes renounced 
 travelling for the first winter. She decided to let 
 or sell her various little "pieds-a-terre," saying she
 
 io6 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 would put up with hotels now she would not have Ve- 
 ronica to consider. She planned future travels to 
 Japan, Russia and the Black Sea, and never by as 
 much as a sign betrayed any fear of the loneliness that 
 shadowed her future days. 
 
 "I believe that Madre will be quite glad to be quit 
 of me," laughed Veronica one day. 
 
 "Would you feel quite so content, if you thought 
 she would miss you dreadfully?" 
 
 "Of course not. I don't want her to miss me. It 
 would spoil everything. I'm not complaining, I'm 
 only stating facts." 
 
 "Madre studies facts too," he suggested. 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "Facts are worth studying when they make one 
 contented." 
 
 "Is contentment the main object of life?" 
 
 "It is with Madre." 
 
 "With you certainly." 
 
 "Madre brought me up." 
 
 "The value of your philosophy depends on the defi- 
 nition of content." 
 
 "That sounds like Euclid and I never learnt it." 
 
 Her method of disposing of implied criticism 
 always amused Bessington. He never seriously criti- 
 cised her in the sense of weighing her merits or de- 
 merits. He wanted nothing changed. The sum total 
 of her made for him Veronica and if he at times en- 
 joyed holding her as it were at mental arm's length to 
 view, it was chiefly because she was in general too 
 near him for perfectly conscious approval. 
 
 It was the second November after Veronica's en- 
 gagement that Adam Preston lost both his parents
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 107 
 
 within a fortnight of each other. He had not long 
 received his commission which gave him the poor con- 
 solation of knowing that his father had seen his dear- 
 est ambition fulfilled before he died. 
 
 "It's all beastly hard luck," he wrote to Madre who 
 was then in Italy. "I am a big sight too well off for 
 my regiment, though I'm not going to fling it up, or 
 settle down at 'Pavens.' They wouldn't have liked 
 that, so I am letting the house furnished." 
 
 He wrote fully to her of the material concerns of 
 his changed lot, but said little of his feelings, and in 
 spite of Madre's entreaties, refused to join them in 
 Switzerland at Christmas. In some odd way he en- 
 tertained the idea that it savoured of disloyalty, to 
 his dead mother, to seek immediate consolation with 
 Madre. 
 
 Possibly Madre understood or shared this feeling, 
 for she ceased to press him, though her heart ached to 
 be near him. They returned home, however, in the 
 beginning of February instead of the end of March, as 
 they had intended. They stayed then in London and 
 devoted themselves to the business of the trousseau. 
 Adam came to them readily enough then, and was 
 thankful for Madre's quiet acceptance of the situa- 
 tion. She did everything in her power to fill the gap 
 made in his life, and in a short time, by her presence 
 and her letters, provided him with all the sense of 
 home life which he needed, though he would most 
 certainly have denied its necessity to his existence. 
 Felicity, with her usual steady refusal to face self- 
 analyses when she held it undesirable, told herself that 
 it was all for Adam's good that she strengthened the 
 tie between them by all means in her power. The 
 most that she would admit to herself beyond that was 
 that as she was to lose Veronica, it was fortunate for 
 her that she had a decent excuse to "mother" Adam, 
 who at least showed no inclination to marry. He
 
 io8 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 was at present too young and in any case not likely 
 to fall a prey to designing mammas, even when a few 
 years older. 
 
 If she had one complaint to make against him, it 
 was that his demands on her were too few. Still his 
 visits were frequent and she was at least sure he 
 made no greater demands on any one else. What 
 she hardly noticed was that his visits coincidented 
 very neatly with such time as Dominic's demands 
 on Veronica could not be set aside. There were limits 
 at Felicity's instinctive reasoning. It did not extend 
 into the region of Dominic Bessington's possibilities. 
 
 VI 
 
 "Guess whom I met in Grafton Street to-day!" cried 
 (Veronica, coming into the sitting-room at the West- 
 minster Palace Hotel. 
 
 Then she saw Adam was present and altered her 
 words. 
 
 "Madre sha'n't guess now, because I want to know 
 straightaway, Eve, why you didn't tell us Stella 
 Forrester was at the Tankards' house party ?" 
 
 "Didn't I mention it?" said Adam unconcernedly. 
 "I suppose I forgot. Are you accusing me of a 
 crime?" 
 
 "Not if you really forgot. It was Stella I met. 
 She is up in town to meet Mark." 
 
 "Mark?" 
 
 They were both astonished. 
 
 "Yes, he has come over on private business. Lord 
 Lugan only came as far as Cairo and Mark is to join 
 him there quite soon. The Forresters only got a wire 
 yesterday telling them to come up to town." 
 
 "Where are they staying?" asked Felicity. 
 
 Veronica's eyes watched Adam's face as she an- 
 swered,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 109 
 
 "At some tiny hotel in Bloomsbury. The the " 
 she hesitated still, looking at Adam as if he could 
 help her out. 
 
 "Why Bloomsbury?" he asked, so naturally that 
 she acquitted him of more knowledge. 
 
 "Because it's cheap, of course comparatively. It's 
 the Habberton Duke Street. Mrs. Forrester hasn't 
 been out of Pieceminster for fourteen years and never 
 in a motor in her life, so Stella is having a glorious 
 time!" 
 
 "We might call this afternoon," said Felicity, half 
 turning to Adam. 
 
 "I shouldn't," interposed Veronica swiftly. "Wait 
 till Mark's here. He's to arrive to-morrow." 
 
 "You were coming to buy those curtains my tenant 
 wants," said Adam reproachfully. 
 
 "So I was. And you, Veronica?" 
 
 "Dominic and I are going hunting for those etch- 
 ings for the dining-room." The little cloud of un- 
 easiness that had touched her had melted away, but 
 she told Dominic about it when they started on their 
 hunt. 
 
 "Stella laid so much stress on the fact that Adam 
 was there, that it seemed odd he had said nothing 
 about her. But I suppose that was just Stella!" 
 
 "Don't be uncharitable. It was 'just Adam' also. 
 He would see no reason for mentioning it, even if it 
 had been of importance to him. Adam's not expan- 
 sive over his own affairs." 
 
 "Not to the world but to Madre, surely !" 
 
 "Not even to Madre," returned Dominic firmly. 
 "He's not in the least secretive, but he fails to take 
 into account what interests others." 
 
 Veronica dismissed the subject. Her interest was 
 at present confined to the pictures they were seeking 
 for the dining-room of the house that they had taken 
 in Hampstead.
 
 1 16 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 Mark did not wait for Felicity to call. Hearing 
 that the Croftons were in London he came round to 
 see them the first evening. He told them his visit to 
 England might be the matter of a week or a month. 
 In any case he was to join his chief in Cairo directly 
 it was finished. They saw a great deal of each other 
 in the following days. Mrs. Forrester soon returned 
 to Pieceminster by Mark's orders. He himself took 
 her down, which compensated her for leaving Stella 
 with the Croftons. 
 
 Mark made the most of his time, monopolising 
 Madre as completely as he could, so that Adam, who 
 seemed to have a great deal of time on hand just now, 
 was flung into Stella's company and seemed quite con- 
 tent. 
 
 It took Mark three days to appreciate the extent of 
 Adam's leisure. Having appreciated it, he transferred 
 most of his attention from Madre to Adam himself, 
 and at the end of a week said he thought his mother 
 had been long enough alone and that Stella must 
 return. Stella protested fiercely in private, but pub- 
 licly submitted without complaint. She thanked Mrs. 
 Crofton with pathetic earnestness for her kindness, 
 and departed under her brother's escort. 
 
 VIII 
 
 Veronica was married at the end of March at St. 
 Margaret's, Westminster. Neither she nor her mother 
 wasted efforts trying to be original over her wedding. 
 Veronica said that as every one made that attempt, it 
 would be more singular to be commonplace, and since 
 so many people were married, weddings could not be
 
 Ill 
 
 considered original in any case! Perhaps the most 
 singular thing about the ceremony itself was the num- 
 ber of guests under the age of twenty-five. Felicity's 
 godchildren alone were a goodly array and the Priest's 
 Park contingent, new and old, was no inconsiderable 
 item. 
 
 Felicity had declined to take an active part in the 
 furnishing of the new house. She insisted that both 
 Dominic and Veronica were quite competent to deal 
 with their own affairs, and certainly it was an affair 
 that kept Veronica busy. Mark's presence in London 
 was a great boon to Felicity therefore. Either he or 
 Adam seemed in constant attendance on her, and Ve- 
 ronica less and less. Perhaps she preferred that the 
 loosening of the tie between herself and her daughter 
 should be of a voluntary rather than an obligatory 
 nature. Her cheerful spirits never seemed to fail, 
 but those friends who would see her had to come to 
 her. She made the excellent excuse that she really 
 could not wear herself out paying calls at such a time, 
 and indeed she might have run about London for a 
 month on end without exhausting possibilities. 
 
 "Fancy Madre ever being tired out!" laughed one 
 of her godchildren, hearing this. 
 
 "After all, she is not so young as she was," retorted 
 the mother who had read out the reason for a refusal 
 to accept an invitation to a luncheon party, 
 
 "She isn't ! She's never any different !" declared all 
 the younger members of the party in chorus. 
 
 "She doesn't waste her energies on absurdities," 
 contributed Mr. Meredith. "And, by the way, some 
 of you had better settle what we are to give Veronica 
 for a wedding present"
 
 ii2 FELICITY, CROFTON 
 
 IX 
 
 Every one had gone and Felicity and Mark were 
 alone in her private sitting-room, where the only trace 
 of the event was Veronica's bouquet in a glass vase 
 on the table. 
 
 Felicity lay back in a deep chair, silent and still. 
 Mark sat opposite. He was leaving England that 
 night, having just succeeded in making his affairs last 
 over the actual day of the wedding. He was with 
 Felicity now at her request. Adam was busy helping 
 the principal bridesmaid and Stella, to watch the re- 
 packing of the presents. 
 
 Dusk had fallen, but the curtains were still unclosed, 
 and outside the street lamps looked like lost jewels in 
 the clean spring twilight. The kaleidoscope of Par- 
 liament Square worked out its ever changing pattern, 
 remote and dim, the room was very quiet, and the fire 
 flickered pleasantly. 
 
 Mark broke the silence. 
 
 "Madre," he said abruptly, "don't let Adam make 
 a fool of himself over Stella. They are not in the 
 
 least suited to each other Besides, I should hate 
 
 it." 
 
 Felicity, who had brought Mark up here as a refuge 
 against the tide of tugging thoughts and memories, 
 looked up in amazement. 
 
 "Stella and Adam? But Adam is much too young! 
 He doesn't care about girls seriously. He's not the 
 sort." 
 
 "No, but Stella is. I mean, I think she likes him 
 But it would be out of the question. Perhaps I'm 
 worrying for nothing, but I have to be away and 
 Stella has really no one to look after her. My mother 
 doesn't understand her in the least. It makes me as 
 fussy as an old woman, doesn't it? Anyhow, it's all 
 right, now I've mentioned it to you."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 113 
 
 He hurried the subject into oblivion and asked her 
 if she would not come out to India, but she owned 
 frankly that India did not "call her." Too many 
 English, was how she put it. "One can't absorb the 
 atmosphere of a new country surrounded by one's 
 fellow country men and women!" 
 
 They fell to talking of their country women out 
 there. Mark had made his first essay in romance and 
 for the first time he told her about it. She listened 
 sympathetically and wondered what the other woman 
 was really like. Mark, too, was young; was of the 
 age that seeks incessantly and instinctively some im- 
 mortal salve against the desolate days that Time holds 
 up for those lonely ones who fail to find it. He would 
 write and tell her all about it now. Tell her of the ups 
 and downs of his search, of its torments and sharp 
 pleasure, and when it was over and he had found his 
 salve, he would write no more, for he would have no 
 need. He was glad and thankful to linger out these 
 last minutes of his time here with her in the 
 dusk, but all the same he was going back to the real 
 "her." He was not going into the great loneliness 
 again ! 
 
 Mark said good-bye, when the need came, quickly 
 and kissed her hand in his odd way. She fathomed 
 the unspoken sympathy he had for her and was grate- 
 ful when he said that Stella should not come up to 
 say good-bye as Madre was obviously tired and should 
 rest. She called him back as he was going to bid him 
 write to her and tell all about his other friend. 
 
 She was all alone now, sitting in the darkness, count- 
 ing and recounting the moving lights outside. The 
 tearing tide was pulling the anchor of her thoughts 
 out to sea. One half of her cried out to drift away 
 with it, the other for help and new anchorage. For 
 some one to hold her back, For there was black ter-
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 ror hidden in that misty sea, and dangers she would 
 not face. She must find a safe and sure harbour again. 
 Had she not been out to that sea and found it a deso- 
 late waste of waters? It was nothing to her that 
 others found it a fairy sea and a high road to unim- 
 agined joys. 
 
 She wanted Adam, wanted him desperately, clutch- 
 ing at the thought of his presence as at salvation and 
 yet lacking resolution to send for him. Then he came 
 came in quietly, asked if she would like a light, was 
 content to sit in darkness, that being her whim, re- 
 plenished the fire, said it had been rather a jolly wed- 
 ding, not so stupid as most, and that the last brides- 
 maid had gone and he was glad there wasn't a party 
 to dinner, only themselves and Fafner. 
 
 She turned her face towards him in the darkness 
 and answered softly at need and at length bade him 
 give her light. 
 
 As he pulled the curtains (he was careful not to 
 call a waiter just yet), he said casually, 
 
 "I've got a few days leave to run down to JJevon 
 about that farm property. I suppose you wouldn't care 
 to come and help me settle whether I sell or keep?" 
 
 Here was good anchorage; she clutched at it. 
 Slowly the tide turned. The sucking waters still 
 lapped round her, but her mind ceased to answer their 
 call. 
 
 It was content to discuss the question of Devon pas- 
 turage and the question of buying or selling. She 
 knew in her heart of hearts that Adam needed no 
 advice to help him determine his own actions, but she 
 could at least pretend he wanted her company. 
 
 In this way she gained some hours respite, and the 
 little quiet dinner with Adam and her brother was a 
 cheerful one. Mr. Fraser told Adam afterwards that 
 he was much relieved at the way his sister was taking 
 the loss of Veronica,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 115 
 
 "That Devon idea of yours is excellent," he said. 
 "It was a kind thought." 
 
 Adam replied uncomfortably that it was really very 
 boring going down alone. He had tried it and there 
 was no one else he could ask. 
 
 That night the tide had it all its own way with 
 Felicity and she drifted in the darkness out to that 
 drowning waste of waters, and when through the dark- 
 ness a form bent down to save her and she stretched 
 out her hands to it, she saw it was Dominic, and 
 straightway called for Adam! Adam! But Adam 
 made no answer, and in straining to hear his voice she 
 awoke in the cold dawn.
 
 u6 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 JANE, having cleared breakfast, shook out the faded 
 tablecloth and replaced it. She did not put it on 
 evenly because to do so would be to bring a big stain 
 into a prominent place, so it was allowed to hang 
 down more on one side than the other. Stella stood 
 in the window and watched her with sombre discon- 
 tent. When she had gone she looked round the shabby 
 room and the discontent deepened. 
 
 "We could do with a new tablecloth," she said sud- 
 denly, so suddenly that Mrs. Forrester quite jumped. 
 She was knitting as usual. 
 
 "My dear child, you made me drop a stitch!" 
 
 She looked at the tablecloth also. 
 
 "I think it ought to do a little longer," she said 
 with an anxious note in her voice. "I should like to 
 have a new one when Mark is coming home! If we 
 get one now it will not look fresh." 
 
 Stella flung down the duster she held and stamped 
 her foot. 
 
 "Probably it would be worn out by then. Mark 
 won't be in a hurry to take leave ! If we are never to 
 have anything new or decent in the house till he does, 
 we shall live in rags. Isn't any one but Mark entitled 
 to see pretty or even clean things ? Except when he's 
 at home the house isn't fit to live in. He doesn't know
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 the horrible shabbiness of it all or that it's only when 
 he's home we take the covers off the chairs and have 
 curtains that haven't holes and decent table covers 
 oh, I'm sick to death of it!" 
 
 Mrs. Forrester looked shocked and frightened. She 
 put out her shaking hand with a deprecating air. 
 
 "But Stella, my darling, that's why the things 
 have lasted so long are so good still ! How should I 
 buy any new things if these wore out? One has to be 
 careful with our means and Mark " 
 
 "Mark doesn't take any money from you. He told 
 me so," objected Stella swiftly. "You haven't his 
 education to pay now, and we've three hundred a year. 
 We ought to have ordinary decency." 
 
 Mrs. Forrester began to cry. 
 
 "That any one and my own daughter should call 
 my house indecent I am sure we have lovely things !" 
 
 "Locked away!" flashed out Stella remorselessly, 
 unmoved by the old woman's tears. "Piles of things ! 
 that's the wretchedness of it there's that Indian 
 shawl" 
 
 Mrs. Forrester nearly shrieked. 
 
 "What, use that? For every day? With the sun 
 on it, and the gravy and Jane? Stella, you must be 
 out of your mind !" 
 
 Her hand clutched the little basket of keys beside 
 her as if she feared a raid on her hoard that very 
 moment. 
 
 "I suppose you are keeping it for Mark's children 
 instead of your own!" The bitterness of years welled 
 up in her voice. 
 
 "Stella, how can you be so indelicate, and Mark 
 not married !" 
 
 Stella turned suddenly and left the room and silence 
 fell on the shabby apartment. 
 
 Mrs. Forrester wiped her eyes and renewed her 
 knitting, with occasional furtive glances at the door.
 
 ii8 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 There was something furtive and cautious about her 
 every movement. She even knitted as if she would 
 rather conceal than not the implements in her hands. 
 Presently she laid her needles down and listened at- 
 tentively. The front door shut with a bang and 
 immediately after the gate clicked. Stella had gone 
 out, oblivious of the dusting still undone. Mrs. For- 
 rester rose very quietly and going to the table exam- 
 ined the cloth carefully. It was a chenille cloth, much 
 faded and stained, with at least three cleaners' marks 
 still in evidence. The edge was torn and had been 
 roughly mended. 
 
 ''There are no holes," said Mrs. Forrester to her- 
 self. "I can't see why Stella of course, we wouldn't 
 like a man to see it, but " 
 
 She stood upright, fingering it and thinking. 
 
 "There's the purple cloth. I meant to give it to 
 Stella when she married but she won't marry now, 
 and if she preferred to use it " 
 
 She looked round the room again and out of the 
 window. 
 
 In the same furtive manner she took a key from the 
 little basket that never left her side and unlocked a 
 deep drawer in the old mahogany bureau. Even when 
 unlocked, she hesitated to pull it open till she had 
 again made sure there was no one in the garden to 
 observe her. 
 
 The contents of the drawer were covered with blue 
 tissue paper which, removed, revealed a- collection of 
 shawls, covers, tapestries, and eastern embroideries 
 that would have transformed the shabby room into a 
 domain of rich harmonies. Mrs. Forrester turned 
 them over with fond hands and gloating eyes. They 
 were all either of sufficient age to enhance their actual 
 value or of a new freshness that had never been toned 
 by daylight. On the top lay the heavy purple cloth 
 with the embroidered corners that was used when
 
 FELICITY CROFTON ne>' 
 
 Mark was at home. There were embroidered cushion 
 covers that slipped on over the faded ones now in 
 evidence, an Afghan rug which Mark always connected 
 with the sofa other things, besides dainty table linen, 
 cobwebby doylies, beautiful scarves. Mrs. Forrester 
 turned them over, shaking her head. Finally she un- 
 earthed a soft terra-cotta cover that bore the hallmark 
 of Liberty's. It was just a little faded "shop-window 
 soiled." She had bought it as a great bargain many 
 years before. She drew it out with quicker fingers 
 than one would have credited to her usual movements 
 and spread it on the table. It certainly gave a dif- 
 ferent aspect to the room and went well enough with 
 the plain painted walls which so revolted Stella's 
 colour-loving soul. Mrs. Forrester replaced the fern 
 pot in the centre of the table, closed the drawer with- 
 out locking it, and sitting down resumed her knitting 
 with one eye on the table, so to speak. 
 
 A big sleepy cat which had been dozing contently 
 on the sofa, chose to awake, and arching his back with 
 voluptuous enjoyment of moving muscles sniffed at 
 something new in the room. It must be investigated 
 and with a slow deliberate spring he jumped on the 
 table. 
 
 Mrs. Forrester's knitting fell to the ground and 
 she jumped up with a little shriek. 
 
 "Haffy, Harry, get down! Oh, you dreadful crea- 
 ture! You'll put your claws into it!" 
 
 She caught the cat about its middle and deposited 
 him outside the door with startling rapidity. Then she 
 turned to the table, and shaking her head, and pursing 
 her lips, removed the new table cover, folded it care- 
 fully, and replaced it in the drawer which she now 
 locked. 
 
 "It would never do! I can't see there is anything 
 very bad in the old cloth," said Mrs. Forrester to her- 
 self. "Stella has such extravagant ideas! There
 
 120 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 would be nothing for them when I died if I listened 
 to her." 
 
 Meanwhile Stella, oblivious of household duties, 
 had gone out. She did not turn townward, but west- 
 ward towards the railway by the Walk. This was the 
 new short cut to the station which, with its gravelled 
 way, its lamps and seats, had been the objective of a 
 bitter newspaper war some two years ago. It was 
 usually deserted except just at train times when the 
 instigators and promoters of the innovation made a 
 point of using it, and remarked on its convenient 
 shortness to the station, while its opponents stuck to 
 the old muddy road and declared they saved a minute 
 and a half by so doing. 
 
 Stella sat down on a seat and took a letter from her 
 pocket. She had read it before in the privacy of her 
 bedroom and she wanted to read it again in the com- 
 parative privacy of the Walk, though there was no 
 reason on earth why she should not have read it under 
 her mother's very nose. 
 
 Dear Miss Forrester: 
 
 I am coming down to Pieceminster this week-end to see 
 some hunting stables, and shall like to call and see you, if 
 you permit, on Saturday afternoon. I hope you are well and 
 not taking too long walks and getting knocked up. Please 
 give my kind regards to Mrs. Forrester and believe me, 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 "ADAM PRESTON. 
 
 There was certainly nothing in the wording of the 
 letter to feed the emotions or cause a heartbeat, yet 
 Stella, sitting alone between the clipped hedges of the 
 Walk, concocted out of it a situation and an excite- 
 ment that called for the gravest deliberation on her 
 part. 
 
 She believed Adam to be in love with her, though 
 he had never said so in so many words ; and she was
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 121 
 
 in love with him, though with that queer, crooked 
 streak that warped her nature she pretended to herself 
 that she was only in love with what he could give her ! 
 She even took herself seriously to task for contem- 
 plating a mercenary marriage; criticised herself as a 
 mere adventuress and found some odd zest added to 
 her dreary life by that mental gymnastic. Even with 
 facts facing her in her favour she could not be wholly 
 honest with herself. She had really done nothing to 
 call Adam Preston to her side. She had seen him 
 twice since Veronica's wedding two years ago. Once 
 more at the Tankards', who were distant cousins of 
 hers and remembered it once each year, and again at 
 a big show at Aldershot, to which some good-natured 
 neighbours had taken her. By some happy chance 
 she had found herself lunching with Adam's regi- 
 ment. On both these occasions he had signalled her 
 out or so she fancied for special attention, and she 
 took credit to herself that she had resisted an excuse 
 to correspond. 
 
 She could now allow herself the poor reward of 
 posing in her own eyes as the unhappy victim of a 
 brother's harshness. For Mark had no way approved 
 of Adam's apparent infatuation, and had told Stella 
 so with the blunt certainty that she found so galling 
 and he found the only effectual weapon against her 
 ever-ready sham heroics. 
 
 Having cultivated so little the virtues of a cheerful 
 temper it is hardly surprising that at this juncture 
 her usual pessimism failed to picture a successful issue 
 to Adam Preston's wooing, and since she decided it 
 was predoomed to failure, she harvested a goodly 
 crop of self-pity sufficient to render herself really un- 
 happy. 
 
 There was at least reality in her unhappiness, what- 
 ever fiction might be the original cause of it. 
 
 She was now under the curious mental delusion
 
 122 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 that it depended on her as to whether Adam should 
 come to Pieceminster or not, that she must decide now 
 at once whether she would "draw him on" for her own 
 ends or obey the uncompromising "command" of her 
 brother to "let his greatest friend alone." And Adam 
 seemed to offer her one chance of escape from the 
 sordid life at the Laurels. 
 
 As a matter of fact, the matter did not rest with 
 Stella at all. Adam certainly thought of her as 
 neither enticing nor repelling him. He merely thought 
 she behaved with the reticence that a rather shy 
 and lonely girl might be expected to show. It was 
 very suitable and rather attractive. He was really 
 coming to Pieceminster to see some hunters, and some 
 hunting stables, and he was pleased that it gave him 
 a chance of meeting her. If she had refused to set 
 eyes on him, however, he would still have to come 
 to see to his business. Adam was too much given to 
 sitting tight on his emotions to be desperately in love 
 yet, but it pleased him to think of Stella Forrester, 
 and her pathetic eyes lived in his memory. He was 
 convinced the world was a rough place for her, and 
 it was a self-evident duty of any man to make it a 
 little easier and pleasant for her if he could. In 
 short, Adam was not yet fully in love, but it would 
 require a very little push to send him over the preci- 
 pice of that most deadly of all attacks magnanimous 
 devotion. But the push need not necessarily come 
 from Stella herself, though she could not and did 
 not even wish to believe this. She wanted to 
 have a hand in moulding the really very simple out- 
 line of her future, and once her fingers concerned 
 itself with it, its simplicity would be destroyed for- 
 ever. 
 
 She desired most passionately to marry and escape 
 her present life. Every good impulse in her pushed 
 her towards it. But linked with her good impulses was
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 123 
 
 that natural tendency towards secrecy, towards de- 
 vious ways rather than straight ones. 
 
 She told herself now that Mark would be sure to 
 have warned her mother not to encourage Adam, and 
 that if she told her mother now of Adam's intended 
 visit, Mrs. Forrester, to whom Mark's slightest wish 
 was law, would find means to prevent their meeting, 
 even if he called at the shabby little house. True, he 
 had stayed there with Mark when the shabbiness was 
 disguised, and the dull rooms blossomed with a pa- 
 thetic array of treasures from the past. Her mother 
 would never consent to put these out unless a visitor 
 was definitely expected. If Adam came and saw the 
 house as it was now would he ever come again, and if 
 she warned her mother he was coming, would not Mrs. 
 Forrester, mindful of Mark, employ her by no means 
 unresourceful brains in finding ways to prevent Stella 
 and Adam being five minutes alone together? She 
 soon forced herself to believe that it was necessary 
 for her to see Adam before her mother knew of his 
 presence in Pieceminster, and she thought elaborate 
 plans for the fulfilment of even this really simple af- 
 fair, but her plans, if intricate, were well designed to 
 her purpose and left little to chance. 
 
 II 
 
 Adam arrived at eleven on Saturday and was met 
 by Walter Burford, the local vet., with a dog-cart, 
 and drove out to inspect the possible purchase, 
 which business occupied all the morning and left 
 some further inspection for the Sunday afternoon. 
 They drove back into Pieceminster about one o'clock, 
 and on the bridge just outside the town, Adam sud- 
 denly told Burford to stop and he would walk the 
 rgst of the way. Burford looked round, as he went
 
 124 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 off, and muttered to himself: "Shouldn't wonder if 
 something more than horses brought him down here." 
 
 Now Stella had seen Adam's arrival at the station, 
 and seen him drive off with Burford. She had hap- 
 pened to be in the Walk when the train arrived, and 
 from there one could see the station exit. She knew 
 just what horses he had gone to see, and she knew 
 also that Mr. Burford was not at all likely to forego 
 his free Saturday afternoon, which he devoted to golf, 
 by allowing Adam to stay too long over his inspec- 
 tion. They would return about one o'clock, she reck- 
 oned, and reckoned rightly, at which hour she dis- 
 covered that she had an errand at the end of High 
 Street. She had just reached the bridge that led out 
 of the town when Adam and Burford drove in, and, 
 seeing her, he had stopped the dogcart and dis- 
 mounted. There was no sign of all her intricate cal- 
 culations visible in her rather shy and embarrassed 
 welcome, and she turned instinctively homeward, for- 
 getful of her errand, for her capacity for concocting 
 plans surpassed her capability of carrying them out in 
 detail. 
 
 Adam said he was lucky to meet her, and asked in 
 the same breath if she had received his letter. 
 
 She nodded, looking ahead with puzzled eyes. 
 
 "You don't look well," he insisted; "and I had 
 hoped you would be pleased to see me." 
 
 "I am; in fact, I'm extra glad to have met you. I 
 was wondering what to do." 
 
 "Did you think I should forget to call?" 
 
 "No ; but I wanted to see you first. Mr. Preston 
 I want" 
 
 She stammered a little, and the eyes that met his 
 were beseeching. 
 
 "Well, you are seeing me first. What's the mat- 
 ter?" 
 
 "I can't explain here in the street," she said hur-
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 125 
 
 riedly, "but if you wouldn't mind wouldn't think it 
 terrible I I am going out to the Minster Field 
 after lunch " Her voice trailed off. 
 
 Adam knit his brows. 
 
 "I may come too?" he demanded sharply. 
 
 "Would you? I want to explain want your ad- 
 vice. It's so difficult; I have no one to help me." 
 
 Adam was all concern and pity in a moment. 
 
 "Of course I'll help you. Where's the Minster 
 Field ? Can't I call for you first ?" 
 
 "No, no!" she interposed quickly, and proceeded to 
 give him the necessary information. 
 
 Adam parted from her at the corner of Roden 
 Road, and walked back quickly to the hotel. He was 
 hungry and rather annoyed with an indefinite some 
 one or something which appeared to demand of him 
 such a foolish deviation from the obvious. Probably 
 it wasn't demanded at all; only Stella poor little 
 girl wasn't able to cope with some simple predica- 
 ment. In any case, there could be no harm in going 
 for a walk with her before calling at the Laurels, as 
 he fully meant to do. 
 
 in 
 
 "But I still don't understand," protested Adam, 
 frowning heavily. "Why should Mrs. Forrester not 
 want to see me? She was always very jolly to me 
 when I stayed here before." 
 
 Stella's embarrassment was not in the least feigned 
 this time. It was difficult to put forth any reasonable 
 excuse for Mrs. Forrester's supposed reluctance to 
 see any one. Moreover, she was beginning to realise 
 that it was not so easy to lead Adam into twisted 
 paths as she had imagined. It might even be that to 
 insist on concealing their friendship would be to can- 
 cel it altogether, so set was Adam on storming the
 
 126 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 position her imagination had created. She, therefore, 
 took refuge in pure unvarnished truth, and the most 
 calculated fictions could not have served her purpose 
 better, for it aroused his chivalry and pity by the 
 very simplicity it betrayed. 
 
 "Well, I don't know how to explain," she faltered, 
 "but we aren't well off, you know it's all so shabby 
 and mean I couldn't bear " 
 
 There were genuine tears in her eyes, for she hon- 
 estly feared that the shabby influence of her surround- 
 ings might frighten him off, so dwarfed and cramped 
 was her appreciation of character. 
 
 Adam was struck to the heart It seemed to him 
 little less than horrible that circumstances should have 
 made this delicate, shy girl so aware of the cruel snob- 
 bishness of the world that she could accredit him 
 with a taint of it. He got a little red, and stammered 
 out an answer with eager protest. 
 
 "Oh, I say, Miss Forrester, haven't I stayed with 
 you? And I enjoyed it ever so much! Of course, I 
 know Mark told me that you are not amongst the 
 lucky rich, but it only makes it the more splendid to 
 think how you have made it possible for Mark to go 
 in for what he wanted." 
 
 "It's worse than when you were here before," she 
 murmured. 
 
 "But you oughtn't to think like that about your 
 friends! It's not fair to them. It just shows how 
 badly you want some one to look after you." 
 
 She was not altogether displeased at this new role ; 
 indeed, a few minutes later she came to believe in it, 
 abandoning the more ambitious one of adventures for 
 the easier one of touching simplicity. 
 
 Adam went back to tea with her at the Laurels as 
 he had intended. Stella showed him into the drawing- 
 room and sent Jane to light the fire while she went to 
 warn her mother. Adam would have preferred tea
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 127 
 
 in the dining-room and no fuss, but he supposed Mrs. 
 Forrester must be humoured. Stella had hinted with 
 a faint sigh that her mother was old-fashioned and 
 difficult 
 
 Adam called again on Sunday, and in the evening 
 returned to town convinced that Mark's sister had a 
 wretched life, and that Mark should be ashamed of 
 himself for not seeing to it that she had a better. 
 Women especially women like Stella ought not to 
 be called upon to face sordid details and Stella was 
 delicate, he was sure. 
 
 He wrote to Stella now, and if her replies to his 
 letters were more expansive than his communications, 
 that fault lay rather in his general incapacity for 
 words rather than in any lack of interest on his part. 
 In two months he was convinced that Stella's exist- 
 ence depended on her escape from her surroundings. 
 He was certain Stella was in love with him, and this 
 without any shade of vanity on his part. He was 
 incapable of self-analysis, so he just decided that if 
 Stella loved him it was because he Adam Preston 
 was in love with her, and had succeeded in making her 
 care for him. 
 
 As soon as ever this was apparent to him, he sat 
 down and wrote her a very proper and serious offer 
 of marriage, awaited the result without great trepida- 
 tion, and was in his own language struck all of a 
 heap when Stella wrote a tearful protest of undying 
 affection and farewell. Her mother had insisted on 
 seeing the letter and decided it was out of the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 Adam could not get away just then, and fretted 
 with impatience at being reduced to postal attacks 
 on the situation, which he declared should offer no 
 difficulties whatever. He said frankly he wished Stella 
 Jia4 left it to him to approach her mother, but that,
 
 128 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 under the circumstances, the only thing to do was to 
 await his first free day, when he would come down and 
 see Mrs. Forrester himself, and meanwhile Stella had 
 better say nothing. It would be all right. They were 
 going to get married, and a few difficulties would only 
 increase their happiness. He felt quite proud of that 
 expression, feeling it bordered on the emotional. 
 
 IV 
 
 What had actually happened at the Laurels was 
 this: 
 
 Stella had been quite taken aback by Adam's prompt 
 arrival at the decision to which she had imagined she 
 was tactfully leading him. She had not expected re- 
 sults for another two months, which would have given 
 her time to get an answer from Mark to what she 
 conceived to be a diplomatic letter. Adam's directness 
 scattered her plans for the time. She was quite 
 pleased at the proposal, though she sighed a little over 
 its curt brevity (Adam had nearly torn it up as too 
 fulsome !) but the more she viewed the simple outcome 
 of it, which Adam evidently expected, the more dis- 
 satisfied she became. Supposing Mark was "sensible" 
 (and she was by no means sure of this), and she be- 
 came properly engaged and in a month or two mar- 
 ried? 
 
 Married at Pieceminster from the Laurels a 
 skimpy, commonplace sort of wedding with a pretence 
 at a trousseau at which all her friends would scoff 
 behind her back and Uncle Ben, whom she so dis- 
 liked, to give her away, Hilda Peason and Mary Gab- 
 bins as bridesmaids little beasts ! a third-rate wed- 
 ding cake from the shop in High Street and Adam's 
 rich friends and relations to pour scorn on it all? 
 
 The thought of it all maddened her. She would
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 129 
 
 almost rather never marry at all than marry like that. 
 It was so commonplace, so banal and, besides this, 
 supposing Mark was sensible and did not insist 
 on stupid confidences being made. Why should Adam 
 know of that silly school-girl episode nothing had 
 happened but the tragedy of a broken heart. She 
 had conceived it broken once why should Adam 
 know? Mrs. Crofton had advised forgetting it, but 
 there was always Mark, with his stupid ideas about 
 not taking advantage of his friend! 
 
 In ten minutes Stella had convinced herself that 
 Mark would insist on Adam's knowing and that Adam 
 would never understand, and that the door of escape 
 would be closed forever. 
 
 At the midday dinner Mrs. Forrester had asked who 
 she had heard from, and in answer Stella had in 
 silence and with considerable dignity laid Adam's let- 
 ter before her. 
 
 "Well, well, well, my dear," cried Mrs. Forrester, 
 when she had finished it. "Of course it is a great 
 chance for you, but we must wait and see what Mark 
 says." 
 
 Stella flashed round at her in an outbreak of gen- 
 uine passion. 
 
 "Mark? What has it to do with Mark? Why 
 should I wait to hear what he says ? It is I who am 
 asked to marry Adam not Mark !" 
 
 Mrs. Forrester was deeply perturbed. She did her 
 best to appease her offended daughter, but the habit 
 of years was too strong for her to discountenance 
 Mark's authority. She merely suggested a compro- 
 mise which deceived neither of them. 
 
 "Dear child, Mr. Preston is Mark's greatest friend. 
 Of course he will be pleased. I only meant to say he 
 was the only man nearly concerned for you, and it 
 would be only right to tell him before answering." 
 
 Stella gave a little hard laugh.
 
 I 3 o FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "What you really meant to say was that Mark 
 does not want me to marry Adam Mark always dis- 
 liked me, always sees the worst of me, and he doesn't 
 think me good enough for Adam! You needn't trou- 
 ble to explain it away. Mark told me as much before 
 he went." 
 
 Mrs. Forrester began weeping. 
 
 "I am sure Mark only wants to do what is right 
 and best for you. It isn't right to say he dislikes 
 you he's your brother and I am sure a very " 
 
 Stella interrupted again as she leant over and gath- 
 ered up her letter. 
 
 "And I am sure Mark will do anything he can to 
 stop my happiness. He won't even think of you! 
 Adam is rich and could do heaps for us. You might 
 think of that. Mark will make it the excuse to refuse." 
 
 She had touched the most vulnerable spot in her 
 mother's armour, and she watched the effect of her 
 words with an odd sense of shame. She was not sure 
 if she wanted her mother to consent to her marriage 
 or not, but she was sure now she wanted to marry 
 Adam at all costs before Mark had any voice in the 
 matter. Already to her ill-balanced mind Mark's op- 
 position had assumed gigantic proportions and she had 
 persuaded herself it was a fight between him and her- 
 self for the possession of Adam. There is no doubt 
 the vivid pictures her fertile imagination had drawn 
 of that third-rate wedding lent force to her illusions 
 and she was by now incapable of disentangling the 
 grain of truth on which that illusion rested. 
 
 But because there was a grain of truth in it she 
 was enabled in subsequent correspondence to impress 
 the same on Adam, till he at last shared her belief 
 that for unknown reasons Mark would oppose the 
 marriage and that Mrs. Forrester was really rendering 
 poor Stella's life miserable by secret opposition. 
 
 so, Adam was just to Mark and saw nothing
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 131 
 
 worse in his old friend's attitude than a silly pride 
 that he a poor man had secured his richest friend 
 for his sister. It was ridiculous of Mark, but Adam 
 did not consider it unnatural, and was for writing 
 direct and squashing any such objection forever. 
 Stella argued that Mark would then telegraph direct 
 to her mother, who would hold tenaciously to any 
 command thus received and probably dispatch her to 
 a remote corner of Ireland, where Uncle Ben and his 
 uncongenial offspring lived. 
 
 The groundwork for this assertion lay in the fact 
 that one day Mrs. Forrester, troubled by Stella's 
 tragic face, had asked her if she would like to go to 
 the Grossman's in Ireland till they could hear from 
 Mark, for she had adhered with all the obstinacy of a 
 weak person to her refusal to allow any engagement 
 till Mark approved. 
 
 Adam began to lose patience. He could make noth- 
 ing at all about this bother over so simple a matter. 
 Mrs. Forrester, when interviewed, had been person- 
 ally nice to him, but she refused to discuss the situa- 
 tion, saying she was only an old woman and had prom- 
 ised Mark to refer Stella's future to him. She re- 
 sisted all Adam's attempts to come straight to the 
 point with a clever ability that annoyed him and made 
 him the readier to believe Stella's hints of undue pres- 
 sure and persecution, which were underlined by her 
 white face and shadowed eyes. 
 
 At length he arrived at the point towards which 
 she was now definitely striving, and that was a mar- 
 riage by special license in London, and so "an end to 
 this nonsense!" 
 
 He wrote her as follows : 
 
 I am not a scoundrel or unfit to be your husband. I am 
 not a minor nor are you. I can keep you in something 
 more than comfort, and there's no sense in this idiotic posi- 
 tion. I should marry you, whatever Mark says. So why
 
 132 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 wait and worry yourself ill for nothing? If you care for 
 me enough to do without all the fuss of an ordinary wed- 
 ding, you had better come up to London by the 10 :04 train, 
 and I'll get my cousin, Jane Mitchen, to meet you at Pad- 
 dington and drive you to the church and I'll see about a spe- 
 cial license and all that, getting some decent rooms in Lon- 
 don, if the Colonel permits. We won't start with a house, 
 as the regiment may be moved from Woolwich soon. Also, 
 I don't want you bothered with housekeeping. I think you 
 said an aunt was coming on a visit to you. You had better 
 get her date fixed, so that when you leave your mother 
 won't be alone. Now, be a sensible girl, and say yes, and 
 let's have done with this shilly-shallying. I wouldn't ask you 
 to do it if I could not arrange it properly and have some of 
 my own people to meet you. Do trust me : you know I love 
 you, and I like to think you care a bit for me enough to 
 put aside ordinary conventions! 
 
 Even then Stella was true to her original role of 
 adventuress, and deliberated gravely as to whether 
 the existence in mere lodgings in London was suffi- 
 cient compensation for the social triumph of a public 
 third or fourth rate wedding in her birth town. 
 
 It was clear that if romance was to be a stepping- 
 stone into her new life Stella would have to provide 
 the material herself. Adam would supply the com- 
 mon sense of the partnership. 
 
 She wrote to Adam, telling him her aunt was com- 
 ing about April the fourth, and that she would trust 
 herself in his hands. The intervening time she spent 
 convincing herself she was doing a desperate thing 
 and that the decision had been a prodigious effort of 
 will!
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 133 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 'Every Straw Shows the Way the Wind 
 
 "ARE you quite sure it won't tire you too much to dine 
 out to-night?" demanded Adam. 
 
 He was standing over the chair where he had 
 planted Stella, with the command she was to rest. 
 
 Stella, in spite of her white face and over-bright 
 eyes, was not in the least tired, and had no desire to 
 rest, but it was pleasant to be fussed over, so long as 
 it did not prevent an evening more in accordance with 
 the excitement that throbbed through her than a tete- 
 a-tete dinner with Adam in the room she had hardly 
 yet looked at. 
 
 "I'd love to dine out somewhere," she said. "It 
 wouldn't tire me a bit. Besides, it is only right to 
 celebrate the event." 
 
 Adam bent and kissed her with a gust of sudden 
 passion that surprised her into delicious tremours. 
 She would have liked the demonstration to be coupled 
 with words as torrential in import, but she had yet to 
 learn that any demonstration from Adam would take 
 the form of sudden disconcerting action rather than 
 vocal interpretation of the same. He drew himself up 
 now abruptly and went to the window. The cold 
 spring sunshine fluttered across the windy Park op- 
 posite in little gusts of petulant gaiety. At the street 
 corners passers-by made wild clutches at hats, and
 
 134 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 clung on to skirts as the wind buffeted them. A 
 passing motor back-fired badly and caused Adam to 
 frown. His observations had only lasted a minute, but 
 that minute ought to have been given to Stella, who 
 turned her head and looked at him over the low 
 lounge chair. He could see her eyes, questioning and 
 pleading under the shade of her hat. He jerked him- 
 self together. 
 
 "Look here, Stella, you will want to unpack and 
 settle down. I'll go out and order dinner somewhere. 
 We'll go to a theatre to-morrow ; it would be too much 
 for you to-night." He smiled at her and took off 
 her hat a little clumsily. "I'm responsible, you 
 know." 
 
 Her face was just sufficiently clouded for him to 
 appreciate the fact that she preferred his presence to 
 his absence. He touched her face with a little awed 
 embarrassment. 
 
 "You don't mind, do you? You'd like to settle 
 down. I'll see your trunk's unstrapped. I can un- 
 pack it myself when I come in. It will all look more 
 home-like when you have something about." 
 
 Stella sat up and stroked the feather in her hat. 
 
 "Yes, I suppose it will." She gave a little sigh. 
 "Don't be long, though." 
 
 He looked at the clock. 
 
 "I'll be back at four ; and, see here, you may unpack 
 for half an hour and then you are to lie down." 
 
 "You think I am made of china, Adam?" 
 
 "Yes. Best Worcester!" he laughed. "Good-bye, 
 dear." 
 
 At the door he resisted his desire to return and 
 kiss her, but once outside he did look up at the win- 
 dow, and she was standing there, half -hidden by the 
 thin silk curtain, and she kissed her hand to him. 
 
 It was rather splendid having some one to stand at 
 a window and kiss their hand to you! A confused
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 135 
 
 sense of companionship with some tremendous force 
 exhilarated him, and the more he was conscious of his 
 exhilaration the more he was careful to hide any ex- 
 pression of it and it fed on concealment. 
 
 He met Jim Streeter in Trafalgar Square, who was 
 anxious to have Adam's opinion of two special gun- 
 makers. Adam gave it quietly and concisely, without 
 undue haste or trace of divided attention, but when 
 Streeter suggested they should go to Purdey's and in- 
 spect guns, he said with careless sang froid: 
 
 "Thanks, but I must go and book a dinner at the 
 Savoy for my wife and myself to-night." 
 
 Streeter gasped. 
 
 "Your what?" 
 
 "My wife," said Adam seriously-/ "I was married 
 this morning at twelve-thirty. We are staying at 107 
 Marble Arch. Do look us up one day. Good-bye." 
 
 He went off, denying himself even the pleasure of 
 contemplating poor Streeter's complete collapse at the 
 astounding news. 
 
 Meanwhile, Stella, having languidly taken off her 
 coat and furs Adam's gift of that morning, these 
 latter proceeded to make a more careful survey of the 
 rooms. They were panelled in oak and their sombre- 
 ness only partially relieved by the light silk curtains 
 and white margined engravings on the walls. There 
 were flowers enough, but not too many, and with the 
 additions of a few good pieces of embroidery and some 
 cushions from Liberty's, Stella decided the sitting- 
 room would be all she could desire. She opened the 
 door leading to the bedroom, which communicated in 
 turn with Adam's dressing-room and the bathroom. 
 It was indeed a complete little suite, not at all what 
 she had pictured when Adam had announced his de- 
 cision in favour of rooms instead of a house. Her 
 idea of rooms had been limited to the ordinary sea- 
 side lodging affair, and for five minutes after reading
 
 136 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 his letter the whole scheme of things had nearly fallen 
 to the ground on this account. The bedroom was 
 well furnished. She had indeed never possessed such 
 a good wardrobe in her life, and there was a long glass 
 with electric light placed rightly for self -contempla- 
 tion. She pulled open the big drawers and cupboards 
 that were to hold the clothes that Adam would buy 
 for her. It seemed almost superfluous to unpack her 
 own trunk with its foolish little assortment. 
 
 She began unpacking, however, and presently came 
 on Adam's photograph, and sat down on the bed to 
 look at it. 
 
 It was splendid to belong to him! Other women 
 would envy her her husband. A little pleased smile 
 hovered about her lips at the thought. She did not 
 like other women much, or rather she liked Adam so 
 much that there was no room for extension of the 
 affections. 
 
 Adam could have married any one even a rich 
 girl, and instead he had married Stella Forrester, 
 with no money, no friends to count, nothing but her- 
 self. She kissed the photo, put it where she could see 
 it, and finished her work. 
 
 Then she went into Adam's dressing-room. His 
 luggage was on the floor, and she tried to open the 
 portmanteau but it was locked. The suitcase was 
 open, for the brushes had been taken out. She 
 slipped the lock and raised the lid very carefully. 
 She wondered if her photograph was there under the 
 silk dressing-gown and moved it gently. It was not 
 in sight. The temptation to unpack for Adam was 
 not solely prompted by desire to save him trouble. 
 She really wanted to be quite sure he carried her 
 photo about with him. Then she suddenly shut the 
 case and went back to her own room. It occurred 
 to her that Adam would not like her to rummage 
 amongst his things.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 137 
 
 Stella's desire to please Adam was quite genuine. 
 It was at this juncture the most dominant emotion 
 she knew. She was not only in love with her husband, 
 she was profoundly grateful to him, and this was a 
 new emotion to experience. 
 
 Adam returned at the stroke of four and scolded 
 her gently for not resting, though he approved the 
 little changes she had made in the rooms when she 
 pointed them out to him. She wore a white silk frock 
 that night, a lemon-coloured sash and an evening wrap 
 to match. The soft colour enhanced the whiteness of 
 her skin and the darkness of her hair and eyes. She 
 was quite prepared to face the chill evening air with- 
 out more protection, but Adam scoffed at the idea of 
 such folly, and wrapped her in her thickest coat to the 
 detriment of the evening wrap. She sighed a little 
 at the thought of it, and then grew happy, remember- 
 ing she could now buy another and she had had this 
 one for four years. 
 
 They dined at the Savoy and sat afterwards in the 
 lounge, drinking coffee and watching the brilliant 
 little world. Adam did not talk much; he was not 
 much amused, but he supposed Stella liked it. Women 
 always seem to like these things. Presently a party 
 of five people came in whom he knew well. 
 
 "There are the Losfords," he said to Stella. "We 
 might go and talk to them if you like." He put aside 
 his cigarette and stood up. 
 
 The impression of unreality which had been slowly 
 clouding Stella's brain increased rather than dimin- 
 ished by action. She followed Adam through the maze 
 of little tables towards a group of three men and two 
 women, and she heard Adam's voice saying to a white- 
 haired but handsome lady, "Lady Losford, may I in- 
 troduce my wife to you?" and caught the little gasp 
 of astonishment that even Lady Losford's perfect 
 manners could not quite suppress.
 
 138 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Yes," she heard Adam explaining, "we were mar- 
 ried quite recently and quietly. Stella and I were 
 unconventional enough to want our wedding to our- 
 selves." 
 
 Lady Losford's voice, addressing her directly, 
 brought Stella nearer actualities. 
 
 "My dear, I am very glad to know you, but Adam 
 has defrauded us of a very pretty wedding. I'm sure 
 it was more his doing than yours." 
 
 She made room for her by her side. The younger 
 and smarter lady leant forward and said softly: 
 
 "One must be thankful Adam has been sufficiently 
 conventional to introduce us at all, Mrs. Preston." 
 
 Stella realised that this was the first time she had 
 been called by her new name. She looked at her 
 critically with half -shut eyes and decided the speech 
 was not meant to be kindly. 
 
 "There does not seem to be anything unconventional 
 in dining at the Savoy," she answered slowly. "At 
 least half the world seems to be doing the same thing." 
 Then she turned to Lady Losford and said with pa- 
 thetic confidence : 
 
 "Do you know, I have never dined here before." 
 
 Adam talked to the men. Now and then his eyes 
 roamed to his wife with open content. She was get- 
 ting on very well with his friends, and they admired 
 her, he could see. Lady Losford, indeed, described 
 her afterwards as "a charming child with something 
 very pathetic about her eyes." 
 
 At half -past ten Adam stood up. It was the hour 
 at which he had made up his mind to leave. 
 
 "You've had a tiring day, Stella; we ought to go 
 home." 
 
 She was for the moment not too well pleased, but 
 she rose obediently. Mrs. Sladen, the younger woman, 
 smiled. 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Preston, don't create dangerous prece-
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 139 
 
 dents. All these men are married. Think of the 
 false impression you will make on their minds." 
 
 "Precedents were made to be broken," said Stella. 
 "Besides, I promised Adam we would go home early." 
 
 Adam wrapped her up carefully, but he said nothing 
 till they were on their way home, when he remarked : 
 
 "You didn't promise to come away at any time, 
 Stella." 
 
 She slipped her hand into his. 
 
 "Silly boy; didn't I promise to obey you this morn- 
 ing?" 
 
 It was, however, the first time she had thought of 
 that. 
 
 Adam's face cleared. For half a minute he held 
 on to his feelings and then he put his arms round her 
 and pulled her nearer him so close she could hear 
 the beating of his heart. There was a scent of ver- 
 bena in her hair and in her dress that mounted to 
 his head. This thing that he had done was really 
 of tremendous importance after all. 
 
 II 
 
 Felicity lay back in a long chair in the little sunny 
 loggia of the Hotel de Palmer, which crowned one of 
 the little hills to the northwest of Ajaccio. The town 
 itself straggled in a half-hearted way up to the hotel, 
 just clutching on to it through the medium of scat- 
 tered villas and stray hotels, as if but languidly inter- 
 ested in establishing any connection between itself 
 and the immense row of gilded letters, that with this 
 disproportionate glitter called attention to the thin 
 yellow building. 
 
 Felicity liked the remoteness of the place; liked 
 looking down on the white town below, at the blue 
 green waters of the beautiful bay, at the hillside rich
 
 140 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 in vegetation. She liked being out of the ordinary 
 little throng of visitors, in close touch with the hills 
 themselves, so that the far-off heights, where snow 
 still glittered, seemed acceptable. She would plan ex- 
 peditions up there, but though she had now been here 
 five weeks, she had not done much more than plan. 
 After all, it was very pleasant here in the sunny log- 
 gia. On wet days she had her letters, her books, and 
 the native embroidery she was doing for Veronica's 
 boy. On fine days without any particular effort, she 
 would wander out on the hillside and watch the little 
 black and white lambs, leaping about with their silky 
 mothers, or gossip with the old priest who shepherded 
 a still wider flock here on the borders of the Maguir. 
 She seldom went down to Ajaccio itself. It was no 
 particular pleasure to her to drive up, and she had 
 no inclination to walk, even by the lemon and orange 
 shaded roads. 
 
 When she and Veronica had been here five winters 
 ago, it had been Veronica who had shirked climbing 
 either of the possible heights above them, and Felicity 
 had promised herself that this time she would make 
 a climb, and yet she had done nothing through all 
 these pleasant peaceful days but drift contently. It 
 had taken her until now really to readjust her life 
 after the break of Veronica's marriage. 
 
 That other journey of hers, to the Canaries, had 
 not been a conspicuous success. She had missed Ve- 
 ronica more in new surroundings than in the old 
 ones of which Veronica had avowedly seen enough. 
 That shorter expedition to Norway with Adam in 
 the autumn had been, on the contrary, a great success. 
 It was that which had really bridged over the restless 
 sense of isolation and carried her to the good sense of 
 freedom, on which she now luxuriated. Next leave 
 they were perhaps going to Ireland together, salmon 
 fishing. She had never caught a salmon and Adam
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 141. 
 
 declared life was incomplete without the experience. 
 Nothing had been settled. The idea had but been 
 mooted. 
 
 Meanwhile Veronica was happy, content and well 
 looked after. It was an almost ceaseless wonder how 
 Felicity's responsibilities with regard to Veronica had 
 slipped from her. She had indeed never fully realised 
 how big a part the charge of her child had played in 
 her life till she stood free from it. To see Veronica 
 now was to share her happiness, to see the fruition 
 of promises, the death of little fears, and to know 
 for a certainty that her child was, humanly speaking, 
 in hands that could hold her safe and insure her hap- 
 piness in a measure for which Felicity could only feel 
 a passionate unspoken gratitude. She would not stay 
 with them for' any length of time at first; indeed, 
 Veronica complained of the shortness of her visits, but 
 Dominic insisted Madre was not to be pressed. She 
 was to feel free to come and go as she would. That 
 was his ruling and Veronica accepted it. 
 
 Adam had had hopes his regiment would move to 
 Ireland, in which case she had vague dreams of taking 
 a house there for the season, but Woolwich, instead of 
 Ireland, was the fate of The Royal Sphinxs, and later 
 on Hampstead and the Bessingtons would be her so- 
 lution if she wanted to be in touch with Adam. 
 
 She had almost decided to give up this solitary life 
 of hers and take one or other of her many god-daugh- 
 ters about with her, but she knew she was not yet 
 tired of her complete freedom and at the back of her 
 mind there lurked an incomplete idea that she owed 
 something to Stella Forrester, though what the obliga- 
 tion was she had no wish to discover. In the face ofj 
 Mark's odd words to her on the evening of Veronica's 
 wedding two years ago, her wisest course was to 
 forget Stella's existence if she and Adam were to be 
 kept apart. She smiled a little as she thought of it.
 
 142 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 Adam wasn't really likely to lose his head now. There 
 was an incongruity in contemplating the two that bor- 
 dered on the humorous. Poor dear Mark! All the 
 same Stella was an odd girl, and it was no wonder 
 he was anxious about her. 
 
 At this point her meditations were broken off 
 by the entrance of Luigi, the waiter, with her let- 
 ters. 
 
 There was a fair pile. One from Veronica, which 
 she read first, and which contained a great deal of 
 news about her small son and the garden, but practi- 
 cally nothing about Dominic except that he was well. 
 Then half a dozen letters from friends and proteges, 
 some two or three business ones and one from Adam. 
 She kept this till last, opened the business ones first, 
 then the personal letters. The second of them was 
 to announce the engagement of Mary Fuller with 
 Jim Streeter, a most eminently satisfactory arrange- 
 ment. After expanding two sheets over her happiness 
 and heartfelt gratitude to Madre for some smoothing 
 of their path, Mary proceeded to general news, and 
 ended with this: 
 
 By the way, why did you never tell us of Adam Preston's 
 marriage? Jim met him in Trafalgar Square the day before 
 yesterday and he calmly announced he was married and 
 living at 107 Marble Arch and asked Jim to call. I said it 
 must be a hoax, but Jim is dead certain it isn't and we are 
 going round to see this afternoon. 
 
 The letter fluttered from Felicity's hands, and she 
 leant back in her chair with shut eyes, for the world 
 seemed to be turning round inexplicably. ... Of 
 course it was a hoax ... on some one's part! . . . 
 Then suddenly she sat up, brushing the letters right 
 and left in haste. There was one from Adam some- 
 where! She found it and tore it open.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 143 
 
 107 Marble Arch, April the Fourth. 
 My dear Madre: 
 
 It will be a bit of a surprise to you to hear I am married. 
 I married Stella Forrester at St. Mary's, Paddington, yes- 
 terday. 
 
 Felicity's eyes flew to the date. It was written be- 
 fore Mary's letter, but Corsican posts were uncertain 
 at best. 
 
 She came up to Paddington and my cousin, Jane Mitchen, 
 met her and brought her to the church and we were mar- 
 ried. Her mother had made such absurd difficulties that 
 Stella was getting quite ill and I couldn't have that. You 
 can have all other particulars when we meet. You know 
 I am no good at letters. I had half a mind to write to you 
 about it, but I have always held the belief a man's marriage 
 concerns no one but himself, and if he wants advice over it 
 it means he isn't sure of his own mind beside which there 
 was no real point in worrying you when you are having a 
 good time. If you are writing to Mark you might say what 
 awful rot his objections are, unless he objects to me per- 
 sonally. The C. O. wasn't too well pleased, but I explained 
 the circumstances and in the end he was decent, and Mrs. 
 C. O. will call. Hope you are fit and have done the climb 
 you spoke of. Do you remember climbing up Monckton 
 Farley and that boulder ? What a jolly crash it went ! 
 
 Yours ever, 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Felicity let the letter fall on her lap and again leant 
 back. 
 
 "It was not worth worrying you about it." 
 She could hardly have supposed words could hurt 
 so much. Her stricken mind groped vaguely for some 
 point in her own behaviour on which she could lay 
 the blame for that amazing statement of his. 
 . He had just tried to be considerate for her. She 
 understood as much, and gave him credit for it, but 
 what had she done, or not done, to merit such bitter 
 consideration ? How had she failed him, that at such
 
 144 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 a crisis in his life he had left her out of his reckoning 
 'for fear of worrying her? It was a crisis! She 
 felt it in every fibre of her being, felt a nameless ter- 
 ror, a shadow of dark wings hanging over the future. 
 The thought of Stella roused a fierce restlessness in 
 her, urged her to action and movement! 
 
 But what action could be effectual since Adam was 
 married ! 
 
 And the marriage was foredoomed to failure, as 
 Veronica was predestined for happiness ! 
 
 Was even Stella, let alone Adam, to go through the 
 dark waters she had passed through? Surely there 
 must be some way to save them, although she had 
 failed them at the outset and that in spite of warning. 
 
 She found the point of accusation against herself at 
 last. It lay in her selfish indolence, that fancied, once 
 free from the dear responsibility of her daughter, she 
 was at liberty to lie about with empty mind and hands 
 in a little sunny loggia here in the enchanted isle, 
 while the son of her adoption had no one but her to 
 turn to in the most momentous decision of his life. 
 He was so young, so very young, in his dear, arrogant 
 independence, and she loved him the more for it. So 
 young in that immature consideration for her which 
 hurt so excessively that it would need all her courage 
 properly to refute it to him, face to face, with a smile 
 on her lips. 
 
 And he had harnessed himself for all his young 
 beautiful life to danger! She made no compromise 
 with her instinct. Dragged up no battery of ordinary 
 common sense against intuitive knowledge. Stella 
 Forrester (for some reason) married to Adam spelt 
 danger! Mark had known it, and Mark, like herself, 
 loved Adam. He had warned her and she had a little 
 contemptuously put his warning on one side. The 
 responsibility was hers! 
 
 Her inaction vanished with her languid content.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 145 
 
 She forgot the fatigue that had really kept her pris- 
 oner so long. It was quite plain to her what she must 
 do. She must return to England. She must be in 
 touch with them. She must be friends with Stella. 
 If need arose, Stella would never refrain from telling 
 her of it for fear of worrying her; she felt a little 
 ironical amusement at the idea. That was all that re- 
 mained for her to do and to write to Mark. But 
 she would not write to-day. 
 
 She went inside to find a timetable. 
 
 There were no steamers starting till Wednesday, 
 and this was Monday. She would book a passage and 
 wire for a seat in the Genoa express and go straight 
 to London. 
 
 To the Westminster Palace Hotel ? or should it be 
 to Hampstead? 
 
 The thought not of Veronica, but of Dominic and 
 his quiet common sense was steadying. Yes, she 
 would go to them! 
 
 These matters seen to, she had nothing left to do 
 but wander out into the town and loiter on the ter- 
 race before the hotel. She did not wish to toil down 
 to the shores of the bay. Her eyes went wistfully to 
 the white-crowned mountains she had never scaled. 
 
 Why should she not make the expedition, after all! 
 
 There was to-morrow. She was not at all tired 
 now. She had plenty of energy driving her to action. 
 She had had plenty of rest. The doctor had said that 
 was all she needed. She brushed that thought quickly 
 away. Even to herself she hated confessing she had 
 consulted a doctor. With it she brushed aside also 
 the little warnings he had given her. 
 
 She meant to say good-bye to being lazy. It was 
 almost as bad as admitting she was growing old, which 
 was palpably absurd. And she very much wanted to 
 tell Adam she had done the climb!
 
 146 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 in 
 
 Adam and Stella were at breakfast, or rather, Adam 
 was halfway through his, and Stella, in a becoming 
 negligee was about to commence hers. There were 
 some letters for her beside her plate, and she was won- 
 dering whether they were placed there by the maid or 
 Adam, and, if it be Adam, whether he had noticed 
 that there was one from Mark, redirected from the 
 Pieceminster postoffi.ce. Stella had taken the precau- 
 tion to have her letters readdressed straight from there, 
 as Mrs. Forrester had a trick of treating certain letters 
 as "family property." 
 
 Stella did not wish to read Mark's letter till Adam 
 was gone. She might possibly not wish to say she had 
 heard from him even. She slipped the letter under 
 a second, which was from her mother, the first since 
 the marriage, for, though Adam had punctually and 
 exactly informed Mrs. Forrester of the same, he had 
 written from his club, and had not given her their 
 address, thinking that if she meant to make a fuss, it 
 would be better for the letter to reach him at the club, 
 or at his mess. However, such a simple solution had 
 not occurred to Mrs. Forrester, who spent four days 
 bewailing the fact that she did not know where to 
 write to the culprits, and rereading to her sister first 
 Adams' quiet, business-like account, and then Stella's 
 original note stating the fact of her departure in terms 
 of reproach and with a heartlessness that caused Mrs. 
 Forrester to weep on each perusal. At last, at Adam's 
 instigation, Stella wrote again and told of her own 
 comfort and unimaginable happiness and gave their 
 address. This was Mrs. Forrester's answer. 
 
 If she were only quite sure Adam had not seen the 
 letters she would have preferred to reserve this also, 
 but there it lay on the top, with the postmark and the
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 147 
 
 thin, pointed writing, and since Adam had just moved 
 the toast-rack, she could not believe he would not have 
 noticed it and guessed. 
 
 "Anything yet from your mother?" he asked quite 
 naturally, as she reshuffled the letters again. 
 
 Whereupon she opened it, read it with half her at- 
 tention. The other half being occupied in concocting 
 excuses in case Adam wanted to see it and it proved 
 unsuitable for his eyes. 
 
 Such an idea, however, did not enter into Adam's 
 head, and when Stella eventually handed him the in- 
 noculated letter he took it reluctantly and would have 
 preferred her to give him an abbreviated version of it. 
 It was inconsequent, a little hysterical and wholly 
 foolish, full of reiterated wonders as to what Mark 
 would say, and ended by sending love to both and 
 hoping that Adam would remember to impress on 
 Mark that she had done nothing to help on the mar- 
 riage which she hoped might be a success. Then there 
 was a long p. s., asking Stella to keep her eyes open 
 for sales, and a list of commissions she would like 
 executed if Stella could get any of them as bargains. 
 
 Adam read the first and last sentence, omitted the 
 postscript, and handed it back. 
 
 "I can't think why you are all so afraid of poor 
 old Mark," he said. "He isn't going to call me out 
 for marrying his sister, and he ought to be jolly glad 
 I've taken the responsibility of her off his shoulders!" 
 
 He smiled across at Stella good-humouredly, but 
 she regarded him with suddenly nervous eyes and then 
 dropped her gaze to her plate and to the letter from 
 Mark, which she had now edged off the table into her 
 lap. 
 
 "I don't know why you should think me such a re- 
 sponsibility," she began plaintively. "I I don't mean 
 to be." 
 
 "You little goose! Of course a wife's a responsi-
 
 148 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 bility! Jolly pleasant one, too! Mark had better get 
 one of his own if he's in such a tear at losing you. 
 Pass the marmalade, dear." 
 
 She could not avoid standing up when he moved to 
 go, and was on thorns lest he should see the letter, 
 which had now slipped from her lap to the floor. But 
 Adam saw nothing. He was debating whether he had 
 time to buy a new pair of gloves on his way to Wool- 
 wich. 
 
 "Look here, Stella, I can't get home to tea to-day," 
 he said as he was starting, "so amuse yourself nicely." 
 
 She looked dismayed. 
 
 "Oh, Adam!" 
 
 "Even soldiers have work to do." 
 
 "At four in the afternoon?" 
 
 "Sometimes. You'll be all right. Go and buy 
 things. Have you enough money?" 
 
 Stella, who with all her faults was not extravagant, 
 said she had plenty. 
 
 "We ought to hear something from Madre soon," 
 Adam remarked as he went out. "It's a pity she is 
 abroad all this time. She would have looked after you 
 well." 
 
 "You are very fond of her, I suppose?" Stella ques- 
 tioned, following him with her eyes. 
 
 "She's a rattling good sort. One of the best! 
 Good-bye, old girl." 
 
 He was gone at last and Stella was free to read her 
 brother's letter, though she did not hurry over start- 
 ing it. She was dimly apprehensive ; Mark so seldom 
 wrote to her, and though she knew her mother would 
 have mentioned Adam's first visit to Pieceminster 
 long ago, she herself in the solitary letter she had 
 written him since, had been careful to omit any men- 
 tion of Adam, though when she had told Adam she 
 had written, and left him to draw his own conclusions, 
 Adam had insisted on cabling the news of their mar-
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 149 
 
 riage to Mark. But there had been no cable back, 
 and it would be three weeks more before an answer 
 would reach them by post. 
 
 Still, after all, Mark's approval or disapproval could 
 not matter now. She was married and, taking refuge 
 in that thought, she at last opened the letter. 
 
 Tirawoo, India. 
 Dear Stella: 
 
 "I gather from Mother's letter that Adam Preston has 
 been down to Pieceminster and of course came to see you. 
 He could not do less if he were there on business, but I 
 hope you will remember what I said in London. Don't 
 think me a brute, my dear girl, but apart from what I know 
 of both your characters and they aren't a bit suited to each 
 other I couldn't let you marry my best friend unless you 
 prepared to be absolutely frank with him. Personally I 
 think you should be with any one, but in any other case you 
 could decide for yourself. Here you can't. However, I hope 
 I am only giving you an unnecessary warning and disagree- 
 able advice, for Adam isn't really your sort of man and you 
 may not care two straws about him. I should like you to 
 marry. I think you would be happier so, and I don't think 
 now there is the slightest reason against it or ever would 
 be. I'm awfully sorry to have to appear such a bugbear, but 
 I am really thinking as much of your chance of happiness 
 as of Adam's. I've been up country shooting and found 
 your letter and Mother's waiting me. I wonder if Madre is 
 back in England yet. Don't forget if ever you want help 
 or are in doubt what to do, she's the person to go to. 
 
 .Yours ever, 
 
 MARK. 
 
 Stella crumpled the letter in her hands and gazed 
 at the fire with a sullen frown on her face. She hated 
 Mark for the moment, and she hated Mrs. Crofton, 
 that both Mark and Adam were always trying to 
 drag her into her life." 
 
 "Do not care two straws for Adam !" 
 
 That was all Mark knew! She gave a scornful little 
 laugh. Why, she adored every inch of his big body!
 
 1 50 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 He was hers, hers, hers, no one, man or woman, should 
 interfere between them. For a furious moment her 
 mind struggled with a chaotic blind rage, from which 
 she dragged herself with difficulty. 
 
 What right had Mark to talk about Adam being his 
 best friend? She was his wife and that was better 
 than a hundred best friends. He wanted no best 
 friends he had her! 
 
 As to telling him all those old stories and remem- 
 bering old dangers, that was sheer stupidity. Even 
 their precious Mrs. Crofton had said it was a mistake, 
 from the little she knew. There was nothing what- 
 ever to consult Mrs. Crofton about. She wanted no- 
 body interfering. Why, when she had at last got 
 something out of life, should she risk losing it to 
 satisfy Mark's ridiculous notions? Fancy writing all 
 that! He had said it all before, too every word of 
 it! 
 
 She got some sharp satisfaction from dropping his 
 letter into the fire and watching it curl and blacken 
 and crumble to nothing. 
 
 Then she rose, rang the bell to get breakfast cleared, 
 and decided she would go out shopping. 
 
 She had still hosts of things to buy and plenty of 
 money to buy with. It never troubled her in the 
 least that Adam had to provide her trousseau. She 
 was perfectly prepared to accept all the good things 
 he heaped upon her. She bought carefully and she 
 enjoyed getting just what she wanted and taking her 
 time over it. She liked riding in taxis, liked studying 
 shop windows, spending a whole morning buying 
 shoes where it pleased her and an afternoon buying 
 hosiery to match. So far time had not hung heavy 
 on her hands and there was always Adam's return at 
 four o'clock to look forward to. She preferred the 
 evenings when they went out together. The second 
 glances that women and even men cast at him were
 
 honey to her, but she had learnt to simulate content 
 when he decreed an evening at home. 
 
 To-day she was going to buy gloves and be fitted. 
 She would lunch at Harrod's. Stella had no shopping 
 knowledge beyond the big emporiums and well-adver- 
 tised firms and Bond Street and similar expensive re- 
 gions still frightened her a little with their exclusive 
 looking windows and fine ladies who met one, not 
 as an equal, but with an air of social superiority. But 
 since she knew what she wanted and what was appro- 
 priate to the rather bizarre style she affected, she 
 shopped well and wisely, and Adam, though he had 
 some qualms at her daring, could not but see she knew 
 what suited her. 
 
 It was not till she was returning home and was 
 nearly at her own doorstep that any shadow of discon- 
 tent crossed her mind. There was a smart car wait- 
 ing outside the house and two ladies were on the door- 
 step. For a moment she was seized with panic lest 
 they should be callers for her. She did not wish to 
 receive callers in her outdoor clothes. She walked on, 
 therefore, to the corner of the street, and glancing 
 round saw the ladies had been admitted. They were, 
 therefore, for "the drawing-room floor," not for her. 
 With some unreason she now wished they had been 
 for her. The idea of her solitary room struck her 
 as forlorn, and she retraced her steps slowly. If Adam 
 wouldn't be in and there were no callers it would not 
 be worth putting on her new afternoon frock. 
 
 They had had no callers at all yet but the Streeters, 
 and she had been out then. She began wondering if 
 any one would ever call. Lady Los ford had said she 
 would, but had since written to say she had gone down 
 to Wiltshire to the Massendens for a week. 
 
 Suppose Adam got into a habit of staying away to 
 tea? 
 
 Her quickly responsive mind was enmeshed instantly
 
 152 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 in a sense of isolation and self-pity. She had been 
 told once she should never live alone, or allow herself 
 to get depressed. This recollection awoke a dim sense 
 of uneasy fear, which she might easily have argued 
 away, but didn't. She took it with her into the quiet 
 hall and involuntarily looked over her shoulder as she 
 closed the door, as if aware some one or something 
 had entered with her. There was a slightly hunted 
 look in her eyes as she entered the sitting-room. 
 
 There peacefully sitting before the fire waiting for 
 her was Mrs. Crofton. 
 
 Stella gave a little gasp of amazement and the 
 hunted look vanished. In spite of her momentary an- 
 ger against Mrs. Crofton that morning she was glad 
 and strangely relieved to see her. Some burden of 
 responsibility seemed lifted from her shoulders. It 
 never for an instant occurred to her that Mrs. Crofton 
 might not be too well pleased at Adam's marriage. 
 Stella was far too interested in herself to worry about 
 other people's opinion of her. The little shy, embar- 
 rassed air with which she greeted her visitor was only 
 her natural attitude towards the unexpected, but it 
 became her well. 
 
 Felicity felt a sudden throb of compunction for her 
 own attitude, which, if not hostile, had been at least 
 critical. Stella had undoubtedly improved by mar- 
 riage. She was well dressed and the appealing look 
 in her eyes was no longer entirely mournful, but rather 
 challenging. Felicity's own kind eyes took in the 
 change instantly, and she drew Stella to her and kissed 
 her, a practice to which she was chary. 
 
 "I'm all alone to-day," said Stella, as she rang for 
 tea. "Adam won't be back till late. He'll be so vexed 
 at missing you. We thought you were still in Cor- 
 sica." 
 
 "So I was three days ago. I arrived last night. 
 I I had to come home. Do you know, Adam's let-
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 153 
 
 ter was one of the biggest surprises I have ever had 
 in my life." 
 
 "It seems to have surprised every one. Why should 
 all Adam's friends imagine he was never to marry?" 
 There was resentment in her voice. 
 
 "We didn't think that. We were only surprised he 
 did not tell us before." It was easier to speak in the 
 collective. Felicity knew she would make no advance 
 with Stella by claiming special rights of friendship 
 with Adam. She was herself relieved that he was not 
 here. It was easier seeing Stella first. 
 
 Tea appeared and Stella devoted herself to her 
 duties as hostess. Her first sense of immeasurable 
 relief was twisted up now with a little thread of an- 
 tagonism. If Felicity had questioned her as to her 
 marriage she would have bristled with hostility, but 
 because she asked no questions and appeared to take 
 it all as an unexpected but quite ordinary proceeding, 
 Stella chose to feel aggrieved. Felicity asked how 
 Adam was, remarked how much more comfortable it 
 must be for him here than in solitary rooms, or at 
 Woolwich, and she conveyed the impression that the 
 fact that there had been no callers only showed tact 
 and consideration on the part of others. 
 
 "I consider myself an exception and not bound to 
 exercise tact," she admitted gaily. In fact, she dis- 
 played the guile of the serpent and the proverbial gen- 
 tleness of the dove and an exceeding tact that went far 
 towards again undoing that twisted thread of antag- 
 onism in Stella's attitude towards her. 
 
 "I expect you'll be tremendously happy," was the 
 most personal remark she made, and Stella missed the 
 wistful look in her eyes that accompanied it, and said 
 she was tremendously happy. 
 
 "Like Veronica and Dominic. The two pair of you 
 should be a stand-off against the nonsense that's talked 
 of marriage nowadays. By the way, Veronica would
 
 154 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 have come with me to-day but Christopher has a cold 
 so she couldn't." 
 
 "Hasn't she a nurse?" asked Stella idly, not because 
 she was interested in Veronica's boy's cold, for she 
 did not like children, but for something to say. 
 
 "A splendid one ! Still babies, you know, require a 
 proportionate number of people to look after them in 
 exact inverse ratio of their age and position in the 
 family circle, as first, second or third arrival." 
 
 Stella said she would like to see Veronica. 
 
 At five o'clock Felicity rose to leave. It was no 
 use to wait for Adam. 
 
 Moreover, she felt a strong desire to meet him 
 alone first. She would have planned nothing to this 
 end, but she would welcome the chance that made it 
 possible. 
 
 All the way back to Hampstead she struggled to 
 set her impressions in order and find the balance that 
 would incontestably allay her odd sense of panic 
 which she told herself now must spring from Mark's 
 over-fastidious sense of obligation towards his friend. 
 
 Christopher Dominic was being put to bed when she 
 got back. His cold was better and it was a besprinkled 
 nurse and mother that lifted a frisky merman out of 
 his bath. The merman struggled to escape to Madre 
 somehow no one had thought of imposing the title of 
 Granny on Felicity who was leaning against the 
 table, watching the group in the firelight and had done 
 nothing to attract Master Christopher. She only 
 laughed when the wet little form strained towards 
 her and put herself within easier range of him. 
 
 "Business first, my dear Christopher," she said with 
 mock solemnity. "Little mermen always get dry be- 
 fore they play!" 
 
 She stood looking down at him with thoughtful 
 eyes, but the baby apparently found a smile lurking in 
 their depth, for he laughed and continued to hold out
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 155 
 
 his hands to her, and having obtained a finger held it 
 tightly. It was an odd fact with Madre that she never 
 had to talk or exert herself to attract the attention of 
 children. She was indeed no adept at baby talk, but 
 children of all ages would behave as Christopher now 
 did, demanding little beyond contact with her and the 
 attention of her smiling eyes. 
 
 It was Veronica who carried her son to bed, but 
 though he cuddled his mother with heartwhole affec- 
 tion, his bright eyes looked over her shoulder towards 
 Madre as if he shared with her some secret about his 
 own appreciation of his pretty mother. 
 
 "Well?" demanded Veronica, when they were both 
 seated again in the drawing room. "What was Stella 
 like and how are they?" 
 
 "I didn't see Adam. They have charming rooms. 
 Stella looks well and quite as happy as she should 
 look. She was out when I arrived, so I waited. She 
 will be very pleased to see you." 
 
 "Yes, we'll consider that all said. Let us get to the 
 gist of the matter." 
 
 "Haven't you got it? Adam wasn't there." 
 
 "Nonsense, you silly little Madre! Don't pretend. 
 Goon?"* 
 
 "I am wondering if Mark has a kink in his mind. 
 Seriously, Veronica, Stella is improved." 
 
 "Already?" with a faint lift of her brows. 
 
 "It's the certainty of the change; the getting what 
 she wanted," returned Felicity meditatively. "Yes, I 
 think that's it she has permanently changed her sur- 
 roundings and she may permanently change her out- 
 look, if her eyes keep as now." 
 
 "Her eyes?" 
 
 "They are not so pathetic. They are even a little 
 defiant. She has instinctive taste. The room looked 
 charming, and yet she has probably never had things
 
 156 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 as she liked before. Now she can Adam won't inter- 
 fere!" 
 
 "I'll call to-morrow," said Veronica virtuously. 
 
 "Do. She won't be interested in Christopher, let 
 me remind you." 
 
 "I shouldn't think of wasting intelligent conver- 
 sation about Christopher on Stella Preston ! Oh, poor 
 old Eve! How odd it seems! How could he be so 
 stupid !" 
 
 "Perhaps he's been very wise. The ends of the line 
 meet sometimes." 
 
 At which point Dominic returned and Felicity had 
 to recapitulate her news. 
 
 Dominic watched her while he listened. He had 
 learnt to read as much from her face as from her 
 lips. 
 
 Adam's marriage in any case claimed his interest, 
 though he pronounced no judgment on it as to its 
 wisdom or folly. His interest was devoid of personal 
 anxiety and was contemplative rather than active. But 
 Madre's anxious concern that had brought her hot- 
 footed from her sungirt isle on the first possible day 
 interested him even more. 
 
 She had said no single word to either Veronica or 
 himself that could betray her "hurt" at Adam's con- 
 sideration for her. Surprise, a little excitement, and 
 some anxiety was all her attitude had suggested to 
 Veronica, but Dominic knew the hurt was there and 
 that some other feeling contributed to the look he had 
 once or twice surprised in Madre's eyes. That eve- 
 ning when he found himself alone with her he faced 
 the matter boldly. 
 
 "I've told Veronica to ask the Prestons to supper on 
 Sunday night. You won't feel better over it all until 
 you've seen Adam, Madre." 
 
 She tried to look at him with a little defiant surprise 
 and failed. A sense of relief crept over her. If
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 157' 
 
 Dominic knew that much she need not pretend to 
 him. 
 
 "He really meant to save me worry, Dominic." 
 
 "You really mean to save him from criticism." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 "There is nothing to criticise and I am nearly 
 certain all will be well. He will make something of 
 Stella. She is really in love with him." 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 Felicity continued to gaze into the fire and he 
 waited. He hoped Veronica would not return just 
 yet. As if she read his thought she began speaking 
 quickly. 
 
 "I should feel very badly about it, Dominic, if if 
 it did not turn out well, because Mark did warn me, 
 you see. He did not want Stella to marry Adam. He 
 had an idea people would think he had trapped his 
 rich friend for his penniless sister. That was so like 
 Mark!" 
 
 "Yes. Is that the reason he gave you?" 
 
 "I I think so no I don't think he gave any rea- 
 son except he did not think them suited." 
 
 "Mark is not such an experienced judge of charac- 
 ter as to know that. I expect it will be all right, 
 Madre. Adam isn't a fool and he has a will of his 
 own. He will keep hold of her. Morbidity won't 
 flourish near him." 
 
 Her face brightened perceptibly. 
 
 "Yes, that's it what I feel. He is so sane and 
 healthy; she will shake off her morbidness." 
 
 "No doubt. But, Madre, it's none of your fault in 
 any case." 
 
 "It is," said Felicity slowly. "That's what troubles 
 me, Dominic. I ought to have kept in touch with 
 Stella. I didn't only because I did not much like her. 
 If I had, this couldn't have happened without my 
 knowledge."
 
 158 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "I don't believe it would have made any difference 
 at all." 
 
 "Adam did say in one letter he had been to Piece- 
 minster and seen the Forresters. I thought then of 
 asking her to come out to me it was when I first 
 went to Corsica, but I didn't do it. I wanted to enjoy 
 it alone. It was pure selfishness." 
 
 Her locked fingers were pressed together till her 
 hands were white, and though she was looking down 
 and he standing so he could not see her face, he knew 
 it was also white and distressed. But she had at last 
 voiced her real trouble and he felt a relief. 
 
 "She wouldn't have come then, Madre, if you had 
 asked her a hundred times," he said earnestly. "I've a 
 far more impartial judgment than you over this mat- 
 ter. You were in every respect entitled to your own 
 leisure and it would have been of no service to ask 
 her. She wouldn't have come." 
 
 He reiterated this fact with an assurance that car- 
 ried conviction and comfort, though she was not yet 
 ready to admit it. 
 
 "And very likely in a month's time you will be 
 thanking your stars you didn't do anything to pre- 
 vent it," he added more lightly. "You are not to be 
 jealous because Adam can look after himself!" 
 
 She looked up and knew he was laughing at her then 
 and she laughed back and then gave a sigh of relief. It 
 was good to have Dominic to turn to. She felt pro- 
 foundly grateful and she was glad she had come to 
 Hampstead. 
 
 IV 
 
 It was Dominic who arranged that her first meet- 
 ing with Adam should be private. Veronica suggested 
 asking some other friends to meet the Prestons on 
 Sunday. She was pleased enough to see Adam but
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 159 
 
 undiluted Stella rather alarmed her. Dominic, how- 
 ever, negatived the idea. 
 
 "Next time, if you like, and, Veronica," he added, 
 "Madre would probably like to see Adam by herself. 
 You must manage to take Stella upstairs to take off 
 her hat and keep her there ten minutes if you can." 
 
 "All that trouble for a possible whim of Madre's?" 
 
 "It's not a trouble to a clever person like you and 
 I don't believe you know how big a thing this mar- 
 riage is to Madre. How would you feel if Christo- 
 pher went and established himself in the spare room 
 and would have nothing to do with the nice nursery 
 you had made him?" 
 
 "You dear old silly," she laughed; "Christopher 
 will never marry without telling me all about it. I 
 am his mother; Madre isn't Adam's mother." 
 
 Whereupon Dominic told her she was without 
 imagination, and kissed her. In her heart of hearts 
 Veronica really did think that her husband was a 
 little faddy over her mother's fancies. Still it was 
 pleasant to gratify their little idiosyncrasies; they 
 were both such dears. 
 
 She managed to be in the hall when the Prestons 
 arrived on Sunday evening and to take Stella upstairs 
 under pretext of seeing Christopher before he was 
 asleep. Dominic ushered Adam into the drawing- 
 room, saying he would be there directly, and so Adam 
 found Felicity alone. 
 
 She was standing in the middle of the room, as she 
 had stood from the moment she had heard his voice 
 in the hall. The soft light from the rosy shades lent 
 a glow to her face which was rather pale. She had 
 dressed with especial care. 
 
 Adam was most tremendously pleased to see her. 
 He took both the hands held out to him and said so, 
 adding quickly: 
 
 "I say, Madre, how splendidly ripping you look and
 
 i6d FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 how well! Is that Corsica? It was nice of you to 
 come and see us the very first day you got back." 
 
 "Did you think I should wait a week?" 
 
 He did not read a shadow of reproach in her voice. 
 
 "Come and let me look at you in turn," she went 
 on. "If I had known what you were up to I should 
 have come back in time to help." 
 
 "Yes, that's what I thought !" exclaimed Adam tri- 
 umphantly. "That's why I didn't tell you. You were 
 having such a ripping time and you didn't look well 
 when you started and it would have been such a 
 shame to bother you. What made you come back 
 now? I thought you were to stay till the end of 
 April?" 
 
 "I had to come back," she said quietly. 
 
 "Business?" 
 
 "Yes. Adam, my dear, you have lovely rooms and 
 Stella knows how to make the best of them." 
 
 "They are decent. How do you think Stella is 
 looking?" 
 
 "Wonderfully well. What did the regiment say?" 
 
 He laughed ruefully. 
 
 "I got rather hauled over the coals when I first told 
 the Colonel, but in the end he was very decent about 
 my living in town and they are all getting reconciled 
 to it now. I'm pretty careful not to let it interfere 
 with work and I didn't even ask for a honeymoon!" 
 
 This entirely commonplace conversation and Adam's 
 innocence of any cause of reproach between them 
 steadied her. The very unreality of their talk as com- 
 pared to the conflicting trouble of her thoughts seemed 
 a bridge to carry her from one attitude to another. 
 Adam was unaware of the bridge, but he was faintly 
 aware that Madre, being a woman, might be a little 
 disappointed at not having a finger in "the wedding 
 pie," as he put it to himself. So he showed, if pos- 
 sible, a shade more deference and attention than usual
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 161 
 
 and demanded her approval to his desire, not to bother 
 Stella with housekeeping at first set off. 
 
 He was really anxious for Madre's approval of 
 Stella and watched their meeting when the latter en- 
 tered with some interest. Stella seemed pleased and 
 even relieved to sit by Madre and talk to her. She 
 did not like Veronica much and never felt at ease 
 with her, and of Dominic she was frankly afraid. She 
 said she did not like his eyes. 
 
 Adam, after watching them for a little time, felt 
 duly satisfied and was able to give undivided attention 
 to Veronica, who teased him and talked nonsense pre- 
 cisely as she had done five years ago. 
 
 Dominic saw far more than Adam saw. He watched 
 with great interest Madre's siege of Stella's still un- 
 certain regard. It rather reminded him of a child 
 trying to catch a bird, only in this case his sympa- 
 thies were all with the child. He divined, too, Stella's 
 partly jealous attitude, fighting against her sense of 
 newness and solitude that would find such good cover 
 behind Madre's friendship. He divined also her 
 vague fear and antagonism to men, just as he read in 
 her little speeches, her looks and attitudes an almost 
 uncalculated desire for attention. It was not so much 
 that she was artificial as that it was her primary in- 
 stinct to act and impress some audience with a sense 
 of pregnant happenings. 
 
 "It's to be hoped Madre will catch her and keep 
 good hold of her," was his summing up of the situa- 
 tion, "for there will be trouble between her and Adam 
 before long."
 
 1 62 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 "That Inevitable Point in Life When the 
 Past and. Future Bending to Each Other 
 Touch Issues." 
 
 IT was six weeks at least before the serene honey- 
 moon sea was seriously ruffled for Stella and Adam, 
 and the ruffling happened this wise. 
 
 The cause of it was Mark's letter, or letters, in reply 
 to Adam's wire cable, announcing the marriage. 
 
 He wrote a short letter to Adam, saying frankly he 
 could have wished it otherwise, but that it was no 
 personal objection to Adam that prompted his objec- 
 tion. That Stella was a lucky girl and he hoped she 
 appreciated her luck, that he was sending them a pres- 
 ent and that he wished them all happiness. 
 
 His letter to Stella was curt and to the point. 
 
 Dear Stella: 
 
 Since you have taken your own line, regardless of my 
 wishes, I hope you at least took notice of my warning and 
 told Adam why you were in Germany. If you haven't told 
 him, I must. Please send me word by return mail. If you 
 have, and Adam has accepted the very slight risk, then I am 
 profoundly thankful and wish you every happiness and we'll 
 bury the past forever. I've written to Mother, telling her 
 not to worry. She was badly upset and I don't think you 
 showed her proper consideration. Still, I suppose you rather 
 lost your head. All good luck to you. Yours, 
 
 MARK. 
 
 The two letters arrived by the same post, Adam 
 was opening his when Stella entered,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 163 
 
 "Letter from Mark at last," he said cheerfully. 
 
 Stella saw her own letter, the only one for her, and 
 as she sat down she wondered with dull anger if 
 the sight of Mark's handwriting would always give 
 her that queer, sick feeling that she was falling into 
 an unfathomable pit. Seeing Adam engaged on his 
 she opened it with an effort and read it. The solid 
 earth seemed slipping from under her. 
 
 "That's all right then," said Adam, as he finished 
 his. "Lot of rot, of course still you may as well 
 see." 
 
 He tossed the letter across to her. It was not his 
 rule to pass on his letters, and Stella instantly fright- 
 ened herself into the terrifying belief he would ex- 
 pect her to do the same. Perhaps it was the fright 
 that made her lose her head, for she hardly saw the 
 words. She pretended to read. The panic sent her 
 poor wits flying in all directions for shelter and she 
 chose the worst available. 
 
 She made some excuse for fetching a handkerchief, 
 and rose, taking her letter with her. 
 
 Adam glanced up quickly. He had seen the en- 
 velope, and seeing her face now decided that Mark had 
 upset her, and frowned. He feared the truth! 
 
 "Has he been polite to you too?" he called out. 
 
 She stopped with her hand on the door. 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 "Mark." 
 
 She looked down at the letter the Indian stamp 
 was undeniable but the writing was not very obvi- 
 ously Mark's. 
 
 "Mine's not from Mark. It's from an old friend in 
 India." 
 
 She rose to the situation she had created with con- 
 summate art, a small compunction at deceiving him 
 chased by flying shapes of necessity, and all wrapped 
 in a cloud of hate of Mark and a fear of Adam. The
 
 164 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 sensations were to her shaking mind, instantaneous. 
 They outpaced her now. She hung the fraction of a 
 second on her steps, looking down at the letter. Then 
 went into her room and reappeared almost at once 
 with a handkerchief tucked into her dress and without 
 the letter. 
 
 "Florrie's rigmarole will keep," she said. "She 
 appears to have married! More coffee, Adam?" 
 
 She did it well. So well that Adam, who had been 
 eating silently and had not looked up, djd so now. 
 She did not meet his eyes because she was intent on 
 the coffee, but her face was placid. Not the least 
 telltale glimpse of a blush. For a moment Adam's 
 mind wavered. The thing was incredible. Was he 
 mistaken? But his belief in the infallibility of his 
 own eyesight was irreducible. He knew the letter was 
 from Mark. 
 
 Therefore the inexplicable incident filled him with 
 bewildered anger. He did not feel shame for her, but 
 he was momentarily at least ashamed of her. 
 
 He finished his meal and rose hurriedly; told her 
 his probable hour of return as usual and went. 
 
 Stella sat wondering dully if he had forgotten or 
 intentionally omitted a good-bye kiss. She told her- 
 self now she must not get in a panic, that she must 
 use her reason. Adam had had other letters. It was 
 possible one may have worried him. It was any way 
 incredible that he should not have believed her state- 
 ment. She had done it quite well. She felt a thrill 
 of indignation with him at the thought he might not 
 have believed her. It was so so unchivalrous of 
 him ! It was all Mark's fault. How she hated Mark ! 
 He was trying to ruin her happiness. 
 
 Tell Adam now? "Never! Never!" 
 
 She burnt this letter as she had burnt the former 
 one, with vicious satisfaction. 
 
 All through the day disagreeable thoughts haunted
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 165 
 
 her. Suppose Adam really had not believed her? 
 Her imagination at such an event shrouded itself 
 behind a subtle fear. She told herself it was one of 
 the cases when one had to be strong enough to de- 
 ceive another for their own good. There were such 
 cases; she had read of them in books. It would not 
 be good for Adam to see Mark's letter, therefore she 
 had to deceive him. 
 
 The comforting theory was ousted by a wish she 
 had merely said Mark's letter was for her eyes only. 
 She saw now that would have been the wise and 
 simple course, or at least she saw it for a few min- 
 utes, but it was not a consoling thought, so she let 
 it go. 
 
 She had really had to act on the spur of the mo- 
 ment and if she had said that, it would have made 
 him suspicious. Perhaps if he had thought Mark had 
 upset her he would have written to Mark angrily. So 
 quickly did her subtle mind find cover for its subter- 
 fuge, cover and excuse. 
 
 But she was very miserable. She sat for a whole 
 hour by the fire, gazing in front of her with big tear- 
 less eyes that took an agonised expression. There 
 was all this long day of uncertainty to face, and stiil 
 worse, Adam to face at the end of it. 
 
 She must do something. 
 
 An inspiration seized her. 
 
 She would ring up Madre and ask her to dinner. 
 That would put Adam in a good temper and by the 
 time Madre left, he would have forgotten. 
 
 She sprang up with this intention, and then recol- 
 lected that Madre had gone down to Bath. How like 
 Madre not to be there the one day she was wanted! 
 Anyhow she would go out and buy things. It was the 
 only panacea for her woes she could think of. She 
 did not know her Mother had found the same panacea 
 long years ago!
 
 166 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 ii 
 
 Meanwhile Adam went to Woolwich with stern 
 anger in his heart and behind it a feeling so new to 
 him that he had no name for it. It was dismay ! The 
 whole thing was to him so impossible. His conscience 
 acquitted him of giving occasion for such a reprehen- 
 sible course and he could feel nothing but blind indig- 
 nation. 
 
 It was not till the morning was over he sternly 
 ousted the subject during his hours of duty that he 
 began to divide the weight of his anger. 
 
 Mark must have said something to upset Stella very 
 greatly to reduce her to a lie. 
 
 Even then it was a considerable time before he 
 arrived at the fact. Stella may have thought he would 
 want to see the letter. Of course, if he had thought 
 Mark had been brutal to her he would have wanted 
 to see it. Mark hadn't a shadow of right to terrorise 
 Stella in this way! The weight shifted quite percep- 
 tibly. 
 
 By the time he was free to return westward, the 
 greater part of it rested on Mark's shoulders and the 
 residue remaining to Stella was mixed with a little 
 impatient contempt. 
 
 Anyhow it mustn't happen again. He made up his 
 mind to that. It would be a disagreeable subject, of 
 course, to tackle with Stella, but it had to be done. 
 Adam was not given to shirking jobs because they 
 were disagreeable. 
 
 Stella was out when he arrived, which gave him a 
 momentary qualm, as it was so far without precedent. 
 She had left a little pencil note, saying she had gone 
 calling and would he ring for tea if he was back 
 before she was, and that anyhow she would not be 
 late.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 167 
 
 It conveyed a sense of affection something in the 
 nature of an olive branch. He ordered tea and about 
 two minutes after she came in, looking rather white 
 and tired and complaining of a headache. 
 
 He allowed her the restorative of tea, but once that 
 was over he "rode straight for his fence." Headache 
 or not, the matter was better settled to-night ! 
 
 When she said she would go and take off her things 
 he stopped her. 
 
 "Look here, Stella," he said quietly, "I want you 
 to explain why you said that letter was not from Mark 
 this morning?" 
 
 She had the sense to surrender instantly, and resist 
 faint impulses towards accusations of prying on her 
 correspondence. Besides, the letter was burnt and 
 could do no harm now. 
 
 She began to cry. 
 
 "It wasn't a kind letter. I didn't want you to see 
 it!" 
 
 "But, hang it all, Stella, have I ever asked to see 
 your letters?" 
 
 She had made him feel uncomfortable and in the 
 wrong, though his common sense supported him 
 against mere sensation. 
 
 "I suppose he had upset you and you lost your 
 head?" he went on gloomily. "Well look here, Stella, 
 you mustn't do that again. I won't have it." His 
 voice was a little harsher than he thought and she 
 made no resistance to a rush of fear which read vague 
 threats behind his really tolerant words. 
 
 "I didn't know what I was doing," she burst out 
 with sudden passion. Her eyes were wholly pleading, 
 and she stretched out tremulous hands. "Adam, I 
 did not know really. I was just upset by what Mark 
 said. He can be so brutal and he thought I had treated 
 Mother badly. But I have been so miserable all day 
 I felt you were thinking dreadful things of me. I
 
 1 68 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 hardly know how I've kept going. Men are so fright- 
 ening when they are angry!" 
 
 He was revolted at his own harshness. After all, 
 women were made that way, afraid of things. He 
 had been hardly less a brute than Mark. Perhaps 
 she had made herself quite ill! 
 
 He went down on his knees beside her and soothed 
 her, and though he did not denounce his own behav- 
 iour as cruel he conveyed to her the most poignant 
 regret for frightening her. It was all his fault and 
 Mark's only she mustn't do it again! 
 
 And Stella promised she would not. 
 
 She lay on the sofa, a white fragile looking lily, 
 all the evening, and he read to her and between whiles 
 decided he would not after all write a piece of his 
 mind to Mark as it might involve giving Stella 
 away. 
 
 And he had Stella's promise it should not happen 
 again. 
 
 in 
 
 Felicity had not written to Mark until after she had 
 paid her first visit to the Prestons. She wrote, in 
 fact, the same evening as that event, and though she 
 pleaded guilty of neglecting his warning and wishes 
 and did not spare herself reproach, yet there was a 
 certain discountenancing of Mark's vaguely expressed 
 fears which would not have been there if she had writ- 
 ten from Corsica. She reasoned with some force 
 against the quixote pride which would not let the 
 world so much as suspect him of taking advantage of 
 his friend. "All your friends know that you haven't 
 and what does it matter what others think while as 
 to their not being suited Heaven forbid we should 
 attempt to sort our nearest and dearest into couples 
 according to our own idea of their needs. They are
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 169 
 
 young, they have everything on their side, and Adam 
 is the best of fellows." 
 
 Mark did not himself answer this for some time. 
 He awaited the arrival of a letter from Stella by 
 every mail, but none came. It was only when the 
 "other woman" rallied him on his divided attention 
 that he made up his mind what he would do. 
 
 What he did was to write to Felicity, and what she 
 did on receipt of the letter was to go for a long soli- 
 tary walk and thank Heaven the gay little party she 
 was entertaining would disperse in the next two days 
 and leave her free. 
 
 London was a very unattractive place to Felicity 
 in May and she thought with almost a sensation of 
 irritation that it seemed much farther off than it used 
 to be. Also that it was a hot disagreeable journey. 
 Still it had to be faced. 
 
 Consequently two days later she called on the Pres- 
 tons and found Stella at home and charmed to see her. 
 
 Stella had certainly improved in looks and whether 
 one liked her dress or not, one had to confess it per- 
 sonified her. She was clad in a wonderful rose-red 
 gown that showed vividly against the dark panelling 
 and tussore silk hangings. The jade necklace, for all 
 its disquieting effect, was effective. The room was 
 cool and shaded. The very flowers in it and the cush- 
 ion cover seemed a foil to Stella's appearance. It was 
 all emphatically a setting for her and it gave the im- 
 pression of a setting of immense comfort. 
 
 After a few inquiries Felicity said frankly she had 
 come up on purpose to see Stella. 
 
 The curious, hunted look that leapt to Stella's eyes 
 shocked her. She made haste to assure her she bore 
 no ill news, that she had only come because she had 
 had a letter from Mark which made her think Stella 
 wanted to consult her. 
 
 The frightened look changed to one of helpless, pas-
 
 170 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 sionate resentment that was another shock. Stella 
 made no attempt to hide it. 
 
 She had never answered Mark's letter. She ar- 
 gued to herself that so long as she did not answer it, 
 he could not know whether she had told Adam or not, 
 and would therefore do nothing. That he should have 
 told Mrs. Crofton and have "set her on to hunt her 
 Stella to his own ends" filled her not so much with 
 indignation as with a sense of impotent helplessness 
 in the hands of fate. She needed something or some 
 one to turn to in this dilemma and it might as well be 
 Mrs. Crofton as any one else ! 
 
 "Mark is cruel," she cried with poignant distress. 
 "Does he tell every one about me?" 
 
 And Felicity spent fifteen minutes soothing her and 
 bringing her to a more reasonable frame of mind. 
 Stella admitted that Mark had told her she should tell 
 Adam her story, and that she didn't want to do so. 
 It was all over and done with. 
 
 "You said yourself one should let the past be past !" 
 she entreated, slipping from her chair to the floor at 
 Felicity's knees and clasping her hands on her lap. 
 
 Felicity's mind leapt back to a summer evening at 
 Bath six years ago. 
 
 "Well, what exactly does he want you to tell Adam, 
 my dear?" she questioned at last. 
 
 "About that man, I suppose. I did tell you about 
 it, didn't I?" 
 
 "Yes. You went to him and Mark brought you 
 back." 
 
 Her voice was encouraging and sympathetic. There 
 must be more to tell, she thought. 
 
 "You see, people in Pieceminster knew all about it. 
 That's what made Mark and Mother so upset and 
 horrified. I went to his rooms in London and his 
 man was a Pieceminster man, so it got about." 
 
 "But I thought he was a married man?"
 
 'YOU SAID YOURSELF ONE SHOULD LET THE PAST BE PAST, SHE 
 ENTREATED
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 171 
 
 "Yes, but his wife was abroad ill. I think he was 
 really quite fond of her. He wasn't at his rooms and 
 I waited and waited till it was quite dark and then 
 Mark came!" 
 
 "And the man never came?" 
 
 "He came in just after Mark at first they were 
 horrid to each other and then they were both horrid 
 to me!" 
 
 She shivered. Her white face looked strained and 
 wretched under the recollection. Felicity realised she 
 was relating an indelible experience exactly and with- 
 out embroideries and she felt almost thankful. 
 
 "And that's all?" 
 
 Stella twisted her hands. 
 
 "Mark took me home and I was very wretched 
 and every one was horrible to me and so so I got 
 ill. I hardly knew what I did. Nothing did me any 
 good and then Mark heard of a doctor in Germany 
 and insisted on my going there. I hated it but he 
 I got all right again." 
 
 Clearly a case of extreme hysteria treated in the first 
 place injudiciously and necessitating strong measures 
 later on. So Felicity summed it up. 
 
 "And now Mark wants you to tell Adam this?" 
 
 "I suppose so," her tone was the expression of 
 extremest misery. 
 
 "I wonder why!" murmured Felicity, half to her- 
 self and knitting her brows. There seemed no reason 
 in it to her at first sight. 
 
 Stella went on in her resentful way: 
 
 "I can't see why I should tell Adam. He would 
 hate it all. He wouldn't understand and the man 
 did make love to me and no one knew he was mar- 
 ried. It wasn't my fault ! I didn't do anything wrong 
 except to go to see him to learn the truth when they 
 all said things about him, because I didn't believe it! 
 It was no wonder I got ill. You can't think how hor-
 
 172 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 rid people were just as if I had been a bad girl I 
 hadn't anything else to think of, so I got ill !" 
 
 Felicity's heart sickened at being brought face to 
 face with the crass stupidity of a narrow little world 
 that went on blindly making tragedies out of scant ma- 
 terial that might be employed for better purposes. The 
 wonder was not that Stella had been ill, but that she 
 had ever shaken off the effects. The German doctor 
 must have been a clever man. 
 
 "I shouldn't ever be ill like that again," went on 
 Stella with the same dreary resentment. "I shouldn't 
 be unhappy like that again. Why should Adam know 
 anything about it?" 
 
 Yes, why? Felicity was asking herself that ques- 
 tion. Her own common sense was all for letting ill 
 alone, but there was Mark's insistent command. Per- 
 haps the little scandal had been really widely spread. 
 There was the man's side of it. She knew nothing 
 about him and did not wish to know anything. There 
 might be points there of which Stella knew nothing. 
 Suppose the whole story might come to Adam some 
 day in an exaggerated form? Yes, undoubtedly that 
 was it. 
 
 Her hand caressed Stella's hair softly. There was 
 protection and pity in her touch. She gauged fully 
 the nervous overstrained nature, badly brought up, 
 badly dealt with, and faced with an emotional crisis 
 which instead of being minimised and rendered harm- 
 less had been exaggerated and stretched into out- 
 rageous proportions till it left no room for saner 
 thought in the excitable brain. There was Stella with 
 her passionate love of colour, of emotion, of comfort, 
 flung back on herself at the precise moment when her- 
 self was the worst possible companion! 
 
 And now, Stella had her chance! She was mar- 
 ried to as opposite a type as could be found. Virile, 
 sane, and healthy, Here would be no subtle under-
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 173 
 
 standing of her, but Felicity felt no qualms. Chivalry 
 would take the place of sympathy, and common sense 
 the place of understanding. 
 
 After all, there might be something in Mark's in- 
 sistence. It would not do for Adam to come across 
 this same ugly little story in an exaggerated form 
 later on. She thought, a little resentfully, that Mark 
 might have written and told Adam himself and saved 
 Stella the worry, but perhaps he had not felt entitled 
 to do so. His letter to her had been most considerate 
 towards his sister. He had merely said that there was 
 something he thought Stella should tell Adam and that 
 probably she had. If she hadn't would Madre back 
 her up and give her the necessary moral support ? 
 
 "You'll see the best way of telling him," Mark said. 
 "Stella hasn't much backbone, but it's only fair to 
 Adam to tell him. Once he knows, there will be an 
 end to it. It would be his affair!" 
 
 She reconsidered the words. Clearly Mark was 
 afraid of it coming to Adam's ears in a roundabout 
 way, and if he had reason for this fear, he had reason 
 for his insistence. Mark wasn't a man to make a fuss 
 of trifles! 
 
 "I can't see why I should tell Adam," reiterated 
 Stella. "It would be horrid." 
 
 "Yes, I know. But suppose he heard it all much 
 exaggerated from some one else? Look here, Stella 
 dear, shall I tell him ? It's really not a serious matter 
 though it seems so to you now. But I can tell him all 
 you've told me quite simply and you need say noth- 
 ing." 
 
 Stella twisted round towards her with her face 
 aglow. 
 
 "Would you? If only you would, why that would 
 end it. And you could write and tell Mark so, and 
 tell him not to bother me any more over it. It really 
 makes me feel ill. I daresay, Madre, you think I am
 
 174 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 a coward. Veronica wouldn't behave like this, but it 
 frightens me. Adam might get angry and I should 
 lose my head." 
 
 "Nonsense, child! But I'll tell him. It's really 
 better so. You'll soon grow braver and less afraid 
 of things living with Adam. You are bound to." 
 
 Stella shook her head. 
 
 "I don't see Adam much," she said dolefully. "He's 
 away all day. I wish he'd give up the army and live 
 in his own house." 
 
 "Stella, my dear," cried Felicity, horrified, "you 
 mustn't wish that ! It's terrible for a young man to be 
 idle just because he's enough to live on, and Adam 
 hasn't even a big estate to look after." 
 
 "But I'm not cut out for a soldier's wife. You see, 
 I don't much like the C. O.'s wife nor Mrs. Raw- 
 lins that's the major's wife. The only one I rather 
 like is Mrs. Felton and Adam doesn't like her at all." 
 
 "Still, Adam can hardly give up his profession be- 
 cause you don't like his fellow officers' wives!" 
 
 "Then he may have to go abroad," went on Stella 
 plaintively, ignoring this statement. "Perhaps to a 
 bad climate." 
 
 "He hasn't got to go yet any way. And it might 
 be to a good climate. Stella, you ought to be thank- 
 ful every day that your husband has a profession and 
 ambition to do well in it." 
 
 Felicity's voice was a little stern and Stella sighed. 
 
 "Sometimes I think he really cares more for his 
 profession than he does for me!" 
 
 "Then put the thought out of your silly little head 
 and try to remember that men want a great deal more 
 in their lives than a woman ! She may be the crown 
 of it, but you can't have a crown without something 
 to put it on." 
 
 It was not till Felicity was leaving that she made 
 any more allusion to the purpose of her visit,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 175 
 
 "I will tell Adam tomorrow and I have it all cor- 
 rectly, haven't I?" 
 
 Stella, who was standing by the window, half turned 
 towards her and looked hard at the patch of sunlight 
 on the carpet as one struggling with memory. 
 
 "Yes I think you have it all," she gave a per- 
 ceptible pause. "I didn't tell you the man said he had 
 always thought of me as a child and had no idea I 
 had taken him seriously." 
 
 It was all perfectly convincing. The little pause, 
 the little effort of memory, the little detail of some- 
 thing that hurt her pride cruelly ! She glanced up and 
 there was passionate gratitude in her eyes. 
 
 "Madre, I can never thank you enough !" 
 
 Felicity was a shade too conscious of the bigness of 
 the eyes and the droop of her mouth and of something 
 oddly unreal about her to feel quite happy at her grat- 
 itude. She wished again she could like Stella more. 
 
 "I am glad enough to help you, my dear. I always 
 should be," she said with real truth. "And now, put 
 all this from you, if there's nothing more you want 
 me to say to Adam." 
 
 "Nothing at all," said Stella fervently. 
 
 IV 
 
 "Indeed, Adam, girls of that age are often rather 
 foolish, especially if they have no one to guide them." 
 
 "I'm not blaming Stella," put in Adam gruffly as 
 he walked up and down. "Of course her people never 
 looked after her properly. I always knew that. What 
 I want to know is what Mark did to that brute." 
 
 "I don't know in the least. I don't even know his 
 name, nor do I want to, and you are not to ask Stella. 
 It's all over and done with and she ought to be allowed 
 to forget it. It accounts, of course, for Stella being
 
 176 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 so so inclined to take a gloomy view of things. She'll 
 grow out of that if you help her, not if you remind 
 her." 
 
 "I won't speak about it to her, poor girl but 
 Mark " 
 
 "No, not to Mark either," said Felicity firmly. "I 
 don't even know if he were right in wanting you to 
 know at all. I can only suppose he thought you would 
 hear it from some one else at Pieceminster some 
 sort of exaggerated account but now you do know, 
 for goodness' sake let it drop! The man's nothing 
 to you or Stella. Don't let her think that you take 
 it seriously. That's what has been the matter all 
 through. She has been made to think it all such a 
 profoundly important thing, whereas, rightly treated, 
 it would have been nothing but an incident from which 
 she might have gathered a little wisdom." 
 
 He yielded to her opinion after a little more strug- 
 gle and owned grudgingly that he was at least glad he 
 knew, as he'd have been furious to learn it from any 
 one else. 
 
 "But it wouldn't have made any difference to your 
 marriage if you had known." 
 
 She did not put it as a question, but a statement of 
 fact. Nevertheless she most ardently desired an an- 
 swer. He stopped short and regarded her with a puz- 
 zled frown. 
 
 "Difference? Of course not! It only shows how 
 fearfully badly she wanted some one to look after 
 her!" 
 
 "You like looking after people, Adam." 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Some one has to it's all in the day's work. If 
 people behaved decently there wouldn't be the need. 
 Anyhow, I hate seeing girls miserable and ill when 
 there is no occasion. Stella was just made ill by 
 worry, on your showing, which is absurd ! If they are
 
 FELICITY CROFTON -177 
 
 kept happy and amused they wouldn't make all this 
 fuss about votes!" 
 
 Which somewhat incoherent moralising was proof 
 of the disturbance of his mind. 
 
 "Stella at all events is beginning to enjoy life, 
 thanks to you." 
 
 "And I've done nothing but be decent to her!" he 
 exclaimed triumphantly. "You see how right I am!" 
 
 Felicity broke into an unsteady little laugh and held 
 out her hand. 
 
 "Oh, Adam, you dear boy!" 
 
 "Well, I must go now," he said hurriedly, having 
 taken her hand with rather a shamefaced expression. 
 "I daresay I've talked nonsense. Thanks for telling 
 me, though. I think Mark might have done it him- 
 self and saved you trouble. Say good-bye to Veronica 
 for me." 
 
 When he had gone Felicity straightened a footstool 
 he had kicked aside in his first impatient anger, and 
 then sat down by the open window. Dominic found 
 her there in the dusk, looking a little white and tired. 
 He made no allusion to Adam's visit, though he had 
 learnt from Veronica in the morning that he was ex- 
 pected. 
 
 Dominic sat down near her. She owned she was 
 tired. He was a little worried and puzzled at her 
 excessive languor and disinclination to talk, but she 
 seemed to take pleasure in his presence and to wish 
 him to stay. 
 
 "I don't think Madre is well," he said to Veronica; 
 that night, and Veronica stopped brushing her hair, 
 and stared at him. 
 
 "I don't think there is much the matter. She is 
 just tired." 
 
 "Why^is she tired?" 
 
 Veronica resumed her brushing. 
 
 "It was a hot journey up yesterday,"
 
 178 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "She used not to mind hot journeys." 
 
 "She'll only say she is perfectly all right if I ask 
 her." 
 
 "No, don't ask her," said Dominic hurriedly. "She 
 hates that I expect she worries too much over the 
 Preston menage." 
 
 "She must have some one to look after and worry 
 over. At least I don't think she's really worried, 
 Dominic. She's just interested in putting things 
 straight." 
 
 "What's wrong?" 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 "How should I know? Oh, Dominic, Madre is 
 quite used to looking after herself !" 
 
 "And others! I know that!" he retorted drily. 
 "That's no reason why some one should not occasion- 
 ally look after her." 
 
 "Some one does, I think !" She put her brush down 
 and reached out to touch his arm. "It's so nice of you 
 to care so for Madre. I don't know what I should 
 have done if you had just regarded her as an ordi- 
 nary mother-in-law !" 
 
 There was heartfelt feeling in her voice. She did, 
 indeed, consider it a subject of immense congratula- 
 tion that there was Dominic to look after Madre. But 
 for him she would have had to be just the tiniest bit 
 anxious herself. A reversal of roles that she felt 
 would have been no earthly good. Veronica regarded 
 useless anxiety as little short of a crime. 
 
 Neither she nor Dominic would have found their 
 slight anxiety relieved had they known that Felicity 
 passed the night sitting up in a big armchair before the 
 open window. She slept for short spells and laid 
 awake for longer ones, watching the invisible hand of 
 dawn steal night's veil in search of the coming day. 
 She was not unhappy or worried nor did the night seem 
 very long. She slept better like this than lying down
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 m bed with darkened windows. There was more air. 
 But she took care to disarrange the bed clothes before 
 the maid came in with her morning tea. 
 
 "I think camping out or a caravan would be the 
 sort of thing for me," she thought as she dressed. 
 
 Just for a moment her memory began hovering 1 
 round the door of a certain doctor in Harley Street, 
 but was recalled with stern resolution. 
 
 A caravan to saunter along byways of Hampshire 
 into the green depths of forest or to meander through 
 the wide valleys and high uplands of Dorset to where 
 the sea lapped against a solitary coast. It sounded 
 restful. She did not want to return to Bath. Alex- 
 ander was apt to ask questions and if people got fancy- 
 ing you were not well, why then sometimes you might 
 get not well! 
 
 To convict Felicity of sickness was almost akin of 
 convicting her of sin. A matter of commiseration in 
 others, but of scorn in herself. 
 
 The same objection which kept her from Bath held 
 good here in Hampstead. Dominic was much too 
 keen sighted and there was always an odd sense of 
 fear in being too long confronted by the very real 
 happiness of Veronica's home. She never allowed 
 herself to face the fear or admit it candidly, but it was 
 there. 
 
 A caravan and Dorset! Perhaps she might find a 
 farm and later on Veronica and family would join 
 her and perhaps Adam and Stella. She would go to 
 Harrod's and enquire about a caravan that morning.
 
 i8o FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 "It is the First Duty of a Friend to Stand 
 by Us a?. Need" 
 
 FOR some time the Prestons' existence continued an 
 even course. Stella had less shopping to do, but made 
 more friends. She went out to occasional luncheon 
 parties and to picture galleries, and now and then to a 
 matinee. She did not see much of the regimental 
 ladies, for Woolwich was a long way off but she saw 
 more than Adam realised of one of them. 
 
 Adam soon became accustomed to the change in his 
 life and as novelty presented no attractions to him, 
 this was a desirable result. He continued to find the 
 rooms all they wanted for comfort, the meals suitable, 
 and Stella something more than an agreeable asset to 
 life. Matrimony, indeed, afforded him just that spice 
 of responsibility which life needed. He kept his prom- 
 ise to his colonel and never once did the distance from 
 town interfere with regimental duties. He was so 
 scrupulous about this that Stella was not too well 
 pleased, but when she suggested they should live nearer 
 Woolwich he negatived it at once. He said it wouldn't 
 suit her and she would be dull. He did not add a 
 more stringent reason, viz., that Mrs. Felton lived at 
 Woolwich. He was sorry for Felton, who was a good 
 sort, but he wasn't going to have his wife make friends 
 with a woman like that! He could not, of course, say 
 this to Stella. The utmost his code permitted him was
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 181 
 
 that he did not like Mrs. Felton and would rather 
 Stella did not know her. Stella acquiesced outwardly. 
 But nevertheless both Stella and Mrs. Felton fre- 
 quently found themselves side by side at a matinee, and 
 even lunching at the same place. 
 
 Adam generally asked Stella how she amused her- 
 self during the day, but he never made exhaustive en- 
 quiries or displayed curiosity beyond what courtesy 
 demanded. He would have considered it the heights 
 of discourtesy to do so. Anything she volunteered he 
 was pleased to hear. She did not volunteer much. 
 
 Unlike Adam, Stella loved novelty, and was not at 
 all pleased when it rubbed thin. She certainly became 
 a little bored. Having no house or housekeeping 
 cares, she was compelled to make her own employ- 
 ments. She passed a good deal of time in the Park, 
 watching the passers-by and here too Mrs. Felton 
 sometimes came. She was undoubtedly amusing, 
 though Stella would wonder idly at times over her 
 dulled skin and a certain tremulous movement of her 
 hands. She began to get very jealous of Adam's 
 work, and he to become more and more immersed in 
 it. It was probably the inherited instinct of a business 
 family, rather than pure personal ambition, which 
 urged him on to master his profession with com- 
 mendable thoroughness. He was soon noted amongst 
 his seniors as a man who would go far. In another 
 year he could go up for the staff college and was 
 already working for that end. He frequently returned 
 late from Woolwich, and even when back at normal 
 time he worked fairly late into the night, though he 
 was careful not to let his work encroach on what he 
 considered Stella's legitimate due. He sat with her 
 till ten and never spoke of work at all; after that he 
 retreated into his own "den," and Stella went to bed. 
 On Saturdays he would take her to a theatre and on 
 Sundays they would motor down into the country to
 
 182 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 various friends. It seemed to him a sane and pleasant 
 arrangement of life, and it certainly never occurred 
 to him that Stella could resent or find the shadow of a 
 grievance out of it. 
 
 Towards the end of July, Stella began to look white 
 and wan. She found London hot and airless. He 
 could not take leave just then, indeed he wanted to 
 save up leave for the hunting season. He proposed, 
 therefore, to Stella, either to take a country cottage to 
 which he could come for week-ends or that she should 
 go to her mother for a visit. 
 
 The Bessingtons were with Felicity in Dorset and 
 though Stella was invited to join them she had re- 
 fused somewhat petulantly. 
 
 Reduced to choose between a cottage with com- 
 parative solitude or Pieceminster, she chose the latter 
 with a sense of martyrdom which Adam really did not 
 notice. 
 
 So he took her down to Pieceminster and stayed one 
 night. Mrs. Forrester laid herself and her resources 
 out to their full for the event. They had been down 
 before once since their marriage, but the weather had 
 been unpropitious and they had seen no one outside 
 the Laurels but the family lawyer, Mr. Loftus, who 
 had been asked to dine, and the rector who had made 
 a point of calling to explain his good lady's inability 
 to do so. 
 
 Stella intended this visit to be more of a success or 
 a triumph. At least she intended so, until the actual 
 arrival, when she became weakly hysterical with fa- 
 tigue. Adam had to combat a feeling of exasperation 
 both with her and Mrs. Forrester, whose methods he 
 did not think calculated to help Stella to a steadier 
 frame of mind. 
 
 He left the next morning before she was up. 
 
 The visit was not a success. Pieceminster had its 
 own standards of conventions, and Stella had twice
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 183 
 
 flown in the face of them. The town called on Mrs. 
 Adam Preston, but it maintained its dignified reserve 
 before her slightly hostile attitude of secret triumph. 
 
 Stella had never forgotten or forgiven the treat- 
 ment meted out to her in the past. She had resented 
 for long years the half-pitying toleration that had 
 been eventually accorded her. She had imagined 
 slights and seen scorn even in small kindnesses, long 
 after Pieceminster had graciously decided to pardon 
 her first serious breach of decorum. But her mar- 
 riage was another matter. There Pieceminster con- 
 sidered it had a legitimate grievance. These "hole in 
 a corner" weddings reflected a sort of discredit on the 
 town, besides depriving it of a possible show, and the 
 town was prepared to be "standoffish" in consequence. 
 A conciliatory attitude and a little tact on Stella's part 
 would have smoothed this over easily, for without 
 doubt Mrs. Adam Preston was a personage, and en- 
 dued with plenty of this world's goods which Stella 
 Forrester had not been. But Stella was neither tact- 
 ful nor wise. She was just coldly complacent of her 
 own good fortune and her own superiority to Piece- 
 minster and its needs. People ceased to call and be- 
 hind the Forresters' back they pitied "that poor Mr. 
 Preston" and there were not wanting malicious 
 tongues to put doubtful complexion on the whole af- 
 fair. 
 
 Adam had taken advantage of Stella's supposed 
 holiday to devote himself arduously to the study of 
 tactics and his letters were brief and uncommunica- 
 tive. Though here again he strictly adhered to what 
 he considered Stella's due. He wrote every other day. 
 Stella missed at every turn his daily little attentions 
 and the sense of possessionship which was hers in his 
 presence. She had wanted him to come with her, 
 wanted to walk about Pieceminster and exhibit him 
 to an admiring envious circle. Instead, she had to be
 
 184 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 content to drive about with her mother in the carriage 
 Adam had arranged to be at her disposal. She had 
 no more, even less, to occupy her mind than in Lon- 
 don, and she had in addition the hundred fretting little 
 incidents that were not yet so far behind her as to have 
 lost their power to irritate. Above all, she had her 
 mother's continual stream of small wonders and sur- 
 mises over their neighbours, over herself, over Mark, 
 and in the latter case they were augmented by the fact 
 that Mark had missed a mail! An unprecedented oc- 
 currence that she felt could only foreshadow dire 
 calamity. The better cushions and best covers were 
 allowed to remain in evidence. She made that much 
 concession to "Mrs. Preston," but Stella caught her 
 surreptitiously spreading newspapers over the chairs 
 at night and protecting the table cover with a clean 
 cloth when she herself was absent or likely to be 
 absent for an hour or two. 
 
 It all jarred on Stella more than of old. Her own 
 horizon had expanded and she saw a real sin against 
 life in this worshipful care of material things. It was 
 no longer merely a harmless fad of her mother's; it 
 was the contemptible way of an old and silly woman 
 for whom she had small respect and no affection. 
 
 In three weeks Stella found herself hating Piece- 
 minster more than she hated it before her marriage, 
 and she wrote to Adam, saying she could bear it no 
 longer! Adam was just at that moment starting on 
 manoeuvres and he wrote her a sensible and kindly 
 letter, saying he was sorry he could not come and 
 make better arrangements for her, but that it was out 
 of the question for him to do so just then. If she 
 had any other friends she would like to go to she 
 might do so as long as she did not overtire herself. 
 
 "I can do as I like so long as I don't bother him 
 and interfere with his precious work," was Stella's 
 bitter comment on this letter. She made no attempt
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 185 
 
 to find other friends or make other plans. If Adam 
 did not mind her staying on there and getting ill and 
 he knew she had never been well at Pieceminster 
 well, she would stay on and if she got seriously ill, it 
 was his lookout. Perhaps he would be sorry then he 
 had cared more for his stupid work than for her ! 
 
 Mrs. Forrester was quite aware of Stella's state of 
 mind. She made her own explanation of it and 
 watched Stella with furtive anxiety and interest but 
 she made no attempt to gain her confidence or even 
 to offer her the reasonable explanation for her restless 
 irritation that she herself had found. 
 
 Mrs. Felton wrote to Stella and commiserated her 
 on being shut up in a stupid country town. She said 
 she had made her husband take her on manoeuvres. 
 It was true she was with him. The unfortunate Felton 
 could not leave her alone with any safety for herself 
 or his own peace of mind. Her letters were amusing 
 and rather clever and Stella welcomed them as an 
 echo of her late life, which in comparison with her 
 present existence seemed to her a whirl of gaiety. 
 Mrs. Forrester, seeing her interested in a letter, asked 
 innocently who it was from, and Stella had replied 
 sharply, it was from a friend. Afterwards, having so 
 little to think of, she reconsidered her mother's ques- 
 tion, and a sombre suspicion grew up in her mind. 
 She knew that in corresponding with Mrs. Felton she 
 was infringing to say the least, on Adam's wishes. 
 Wishes which she was sure would be translated into 
 commands if he knew of their intimacy. What if he 
 suspected the same? Had for instance given her 
 mother a hint with regard to her correspondence ? 
 
 The utter absurdity of such a supposition with 
 regard to Adam might have occurred to her in the 
 saner, freer surroundings of her London life, but 
 here, back in the old tortuous atmosphere, with its 
 petty frictions, its tiny daily deceits, its small imagin-
 
 i86 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 ing subterfuges and cross purposes, all the old evil of 
 her perverted imagination was uppermost again. The 
 better side of her had not had long enough ascendency 
 to hold its own. 
 
 Something in her manner of answering, in her way 
 of half concealing the letter, had caught Mrs. For- 
 rester's attention. She watched Stella with renewed 
 interest. Her complete lack of understanding pre- 
 vented her from knowing the harm her secretive 
 curiosity had on her daughter. 
 
 Adam's next letter was full of his work. He made 
 no allusions to Stella's late complaints, hoping they had 
 settled themselves. At the end he made one remark, 
 which was so outside his usual reticence with regard 
 to others, that Stella was at pains to find some espe- 
 cial purpose in it. 
 
 "Poor Felton," wrote Adam, "has to bring his wife 
 down here so as to keep an eye on her. I can't think 
 why he does not send her to some home. It's a bless- 
 ing they have no children. In his place I think I would 
 kill her rather than risk that! Drink in a wretched, 
 starved, uneducated creature of the streets is bad 
 enough, but in a woman with everything she can want, 
 of decent people, and with a decent husband like Fel- 
 ton, it's beyond words. He ought to shut her up !" 
 
 Which unusual and fierce expression of his feelings 
 was wrung from him after a very unwilling participa- 
 tion in a desperate scene between Felton and his wife, 
 in which he had been forced to exercise that physical 
 force that Felton feared to use. 
 
 This communication had the odd and disastrous ef- 
 fect that there was born of it a fear of Adam. A fear 
 of something she had never herself discovered in him. 
 She bore with this new trouble for a few days and 
 then wrote to Mrs. Crofton and ask if she might come 
 to her until Adam should be ready to return to town.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 187 
 
 Stanton's farm lay in a hollow of the rounded 
 downs where they sweep down to the sea in roll after 
 roll of green billows, ending in a steep fringe of gorse- 
 covered country, mainly inhabited by rabbits, along 
 which a disused military road formed the only means 
 of communication with the outer world at the little 
 village of Penard, where was at least a telegraph 
 office and a shop, only two miles distant. The farm 
 lay in a hollow facing southwest. It was swept by the 
 sea air, and shaded near the house by an apple orchard. 
 Eastward, over the shoulder of the Downs, was a 
 little land-locked bay with a fringe of silver sand 
 and safe bathing. Felicity had discovered the place 
 on her caravan tour. The caravan now stood in the 
 big wagon shed, for having found the place, she re- 
 fused to abandon it and as soon as London got too 
 insufferable, Veronica and Master Christopher joined 
 her. Dominic took up some arrears of holidays and 
 they passed happy idle weeks there, playing golf on 
 an improvised links, fishing, with the few scattered 
 fishing people of the solitary coast, bathing in the little 
 bay, and entering into all the fierce interests of farm 
 life, the birth of a calf, the staying of a plague of 
 rats, the possible failure of roots after so dry a sum- 
 mer, the prospects of harvest, the troubles of sheep. 
 
 Here, in the peace and the sun, Felicity did forget 
 the vague troubles that had started her on that caravan 
 journey. Veronica asked nothing better these hot days 
 than to play about the sand with Christopher, and 
 Dominic and Felicity explored the neighbourhood in a 
 car, and would spend long hours seated on the crest 
 of the high Down, looking seaward, and talking of 
 things above and things below, oblivious of time and 
 of original intentions of a long walk. Sometimes Ve-
 
 1 88 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 ronica joined them, but she was really happier on the 
 sands with her son, or loitering about the sunny farm. 
 
 "Besides, it's a change for Dominic to talk to you 
 instead of me/' she said ; "and it's a change for me to 
 talk to Mrs. Croby not that I would insinuate there 
 is any comparison to be made!" 
 
 Dominic learnt more of Madre in these few weeks 
 than he had known before. One day, lying on the 
 green turf and facing the sea, Felicity had spoken of 
 her married life. Spoke with that slow detached won- 
 der that was her tribute to the years which had silently 
 healed the wound her young life had received. 
 
 "I married before I understood where to look for 
 happiness," she said dreamily. "I still fancied it lay 
 in the pocket of circumstances, and he thought it lay 
 in monotony. Also he thought of women as merely 
 adjuncts to life and he hated children. We could 
 neither of us make allowances. I, because I was too 
 young, and he because he was too old ! And again I 
 couldn't make the best of it as some girls might have 
 done because I was looking for something bigger. I 
 think if he had let me travel, left me free to go or 
 come as I would to live indeed I should have got 
 through. But he couldn't. It wasn't all his fault. I 
 couldn't marry him if we had met now, but we might 
 have been good friends. Chiefly what was wrong was 
 that I was too young." 
 
 "Yet you let Veronica marry at eighteen." 
 
 She was silent a minute. 
 
 "Yes; it is different. Veronica is not like me and 
 it was you!" 
 
 Her voice dropped the least bit in the world. 
 
 "I think she is quite happy, Madre." 
 
 She turned a glowing face to him. 
 
 "My only shadow is that she can never know her 
 own good fortune!" 
 
 "I know mine."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 189 
 
 Her eyes, as they turned seaward, were wistful. 
 Was his fortune so great? Was there really no 
 woman in the world who could have given him more 
 than Veronica could give him? The treason of the 
 thought scared her, yet she could not escape it. His 
 next remark seemed like a hand of healing on her 
 heart. 
 
 "I have Veronica and you ! That means so long 
 as Veronica is happy your friendship!" 
 
 He smiled at her. 
 
 "Friendship is the best gift life has for us," she 
 said. 
 
 He looked doubtful. 
 
 "Best gift?" 
 
 "Love is life," she answered quickly. "It is not 
 addition, it is fulfilment of life. 
 
 He refused agreement, since so many must live with 
 life unfulfilled, but his refusal was largely based on 
 desire to make her go on talking. 
 
 "And what have I done to deserve both love and 
 friendship?" he queried. 
 
 Whereupon she answered swiftly, 
 
 "The one follows the other. The more complete 
 the life, the more abundant the gifts that follow it." 
 
 He shook his head unsatisfied and still desirous to 
 press her to deeper reason. He got it by insistence. 
 
 "In friendship it is absolutely essential that one of 
 the two should have working knowledge of love. The 
 friendship is then an addition to this one, though pos- 
 sibly a necessity to the other." 
 
 "Mayn't it be necessary to both?" 
 
 She rose and held out her hands to feel the cool 
 breeze fanning them. 
 
 "You are asking for logic and philosophy, and I can 
 only give you instinctive answers that I have never 
 thought out. Don't press me, Dominic." 
 
 He, too, had risen and stood bareheaded before her.
 
 190 FELICITY CROFTOK 
 
 In a strange way they seemed to stand alone on the 
 little green mound, nearer heaven than any spot in 
 the surrounding earth, and the scent of the thyme and 
 gorse rushed over him with a new power. It might 
 almost be that for one second of time her keen per- 
 ceptions had entered into his, and lifted them both to 
 a wider and more sensitive plane of existence. 
 
 "I wasn't asking for logic," he said humbly. "I 
 know better. I only wanted your intuition. I can 
 find the logic for it myself." 
 
 But at that she turned to him with a quick gleam in 
 her eyes that was almost fear. 
 
 "It's not worth your reasoning over. Let us go 
 down. Veronica will want her bathe." 
 
 After this Felicity never spoke of her own affairs 
 again, but spoke often of Dominic's. He told her his 
 aims and difficulties, and she listened and advised, 
 and sometimes ran counter to his own conclusions. 
 
 "Well, what does Veronica say?" she asked once 
 after a small dispute. 
 
 He smiled back at her. She did not know that 
 particular smile was hers alone. That it presupposed 
 an infinity of understanding between them, even on 
 the subject of Veronica herself. 
 
 "Veronica agrees with me," he said with a gravity 
 that should have counteracted the smile. Whereon 
 she laughed. 
 
 "Veronica is far wiser than I am. She knows what 
 you want." 
 
 "And you what is good for me?" 
 
 "Possibly. No, I don't! It's all nonsense our 
 knowing what's best for other people. They know or 
 ought to know themselves." 
 
 "Now you are shelving responsibility." 
 
 "Why should I not from you?" 
 
 He was all contrition and protested he had not 
 meant to worry her.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 191 
 
 Late that evening he went for a solitary walk over 
 the Downs and tried to imagine what his mother would 
 have been like, and whether she had resembled Madre 
 in any way. But the only thing he could feel certain 
 about was that Madre, dragged to the South African 
 veldt to a life of hard work and solitude, would not 
 have died from sheer misery of her surroundings and 
 isolation. And as there was nothing profitable in 
 thinking this he gave it up and decided he was lucky 
 to have found a mother-in-law who given an extra 
 ten years or so would have made him such an excel- 
 lent mother. 
 
 Into the midst of all this blissful content there came 
 Stella's letter, not so much asking for an invitation, 
 as clutching at it. 
 
 Veronica sighed and offered innumerable reasons 
 why Stella should be refused. Dominic made no com- 
 ment. He just waited. 
 
 Felicity did indeed hesitate a whole morning. She 
 was very loath to interrupt their happy time, but 
 Stella's letter made her uneasy. There still lurked 
 in her conscience the belief that if she had been less 
 awake to her own comfort and more alive to Adam's 
 interests, the marriage would never have taken place, 
 and notwithstanding its present peaceful appearance 
 Felicity never deluded herself into imagining it was 
 the sort of marriage Adam ought to have made. In 
 the end Stella was invited. 
 
 Dominic and family had after all only another week 
 of holiday left them. Veronica would not hear of his 
 returning to town without her, though it is quite pos- 
 sible that Stella's coming had something to do with 
 this. Felicity was at all events to stay on till the mid- 
 dle of September. The manoeuvres would be over by 
 then, and perhaps Adam might be able to fetch Stella 
 himself,
 
 192 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 m 
 
 Felicity, like Mrs. Forrester, made her own diag- 
 nosis of what was the matter with Stella, but unlike 
 Mrs. Forrester she at once approached Stella on the 
 subject as one of congratulation and future joy. To 
 her horror she found her remarks not only a revela- 
 tion to her visitor but the cause of the utmost dismay. 
 Stella protested that she did not in the least want a 
 child and did not suppose that Adam did either. In 
 fact, she was sure he didn't ! He thought people lucky 
 who hadn't any. 
 
 At the end of ten days, by dint of great patience 
 and of unceasing pity and a quiet logical treatment of 
 the situation, she had brought Stella to a more sensible 
 frame of mind. At least, to resignation of coming 
 events, and since Stella entirely refused to mention 
 the matter to Adam, she wrote herself with Stella's 
 grudging permission, to tell him. 
 
 As Felicity expected, Adam wrote back at once ex- 
 pressing his very real delight and begging Madre be 
 with Stella all she could. "If I had known I don't 
 think I would have let her go to Pieceminster," he said 
 frankly. "Mrs. Forrester does not seem to me a very 
 suitable person to be with Stella when she is naturally 
 rather seedy and nervous," in which sentiment Felicity 
 was one with him! 
 
 Adam wrote also to Stella, but she kept silence as 
 to what he said, though she made no more remarks as 
 to his dislike to a child. 
 
 It was on Felicity's advice that Adam agreed to 
 keep on the same rooms and let Stella stay in town. 
 He had thought it better for her to be in the country, 
 but Felicity firmly resisted this and by the end of Sep- 
 tember she installed Stella again at 107 Marble Arch 
 in a reasonably satisfied frame of mind and went away
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 193 
 
 to pay an overdue visit to some friends in Yorkshire, 
 whose daughter was about to celebrate her "coming 
 out." 
 
 It was a large and rather noisy party of young peo- 
 ple, and whether it was that her late struggles with 
 Stella had fatigued her more than she had known or 
 whether that insidious trouble that her pleasant idle 
 summer had momentarily put to rest saw fit to reassert 
 itself, but Felicity for the first time did not enter into 
 the prevailing gaiety with her usual zest. At first 
 no one noticed it. When she was not with one set 
 of the party, they took it for granted she was with the 
 other, and it was some time before they discovered 
 she was very often in her room in solitary state, 
 "writing letters," she would say, but she posted very 
 few. The youthful members of the party thought her 
 very serious and complained, whereupon she made 
 brave efforts to cancel the accusation. The elders 
 thought her singularly absentminded and thoughtful 
 and said amongst themselves, regretfully, that even 
 Felicity Crofton was getting older! The trouble was 
 that Felicity felt in herself not an atom older. Her 
 will to share and enjoy life was as strong as ever. She 
 continued to tell herself it was only a passing fatigue, 
 since it had disappeared so completely in the summer. 
 It could not really be anything so serious as she had 
 been once warned. It might indeed be only nerves. 
 The word applied to herself filled her with fine 
 scorn. 
 
 Her thoughts turned wistfully to southern climes 
 when winter loomed ahead, but she went down to 
 Bath and stayed there quietly, much to her brother's 
 surprise and content. She also hired a car and used it 
 more than she expected to do. 
 
 At this juncture, two godchildren of hers, the 
 Maughans, were left motherless. She went to their 
 rescue for a few weeks till an aunt could be installed
 
 194 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 and while there with them, made a plan which filled 
 her and all concerned with much satisfaction. 
 
 In the early spring she was to go out to Bavano, 
 take a villa there, and take in charge, not only these 
 two godchildren but three other girls. The families 
 concerned and Madre herself were soon making plans 
 for a life of pleasant days and under the spell of it 
 Felicity's elastic vitality welled up again and she be- 
 came enthusiastic. 
 
 Both Bessington and Veronica were too pleased to 
 find her taking a joy in movement again and in the 
 future to grudge her proposed absence from England, 
 though Bessington made one or two attempts to per- 
 suade her to take a second in command, in case the 
 party proved too much for one to handle. Felicity 
 scoffed at him. 
 
 "No divided authority!" she insisted. "I can man- 
 age my party and I mean to enjoy it. It's the nicest 
 thing I have thought of since you took Veronica away, 
 and I can't think why I haven't done it before." 
 
 They were to go in the middle of April. Felicity 
 arranged to spend the intermediate time at Bath ; per- 
 haps she felt it would be easier to do nothing there 
 than in London. She was still content with that nega- 
 tive programme, though of course matters would be 
 very different once she was in Bavano ! At the end of 
 February this quiet interlude was broken into by a 
 letter from Adam. Dimly she perceived that she had 
 been waiting for it. That she had known at the back 
 of her mind it would come, and that she was ready 
 and prepared to act. 
 
 "Dear Madre :" (began the letter) "Could you pos- 
 sibly come and stay with us awhile? Stella ought to 
 have some one with her and I do not want to ask her 
 mother if you are available. Stella is, on the whole, 
 keeping well, but lately she has been depressed and I 
 am uneasy at leaving her so long alone each day. The
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 195 
 
 exam is so near that it is difficult for me to be with 
 her as much as I should like. Still even if I were free 
 it would be better for her to have a woman round. 
 The baby is not expected till the beginning of April. 
 It would mean an awful lot to me if you could take 
 charge till then. My cousin, Jane Mitchen, would 
 come no doubt, but she isn't a married woman and 
 Stella doesn't know her so well as she knows you. 
 It's very important that she should be kept cheerful 
 and made to take exercise and have the right people 
 about her and no one could be so right as you, if it's 
 possibly to fit it in with your plans. If you can come 
 on Wednesday I will meet you by the five-fifteen train. 
 
 Yours ever, ADAM." 
 
 She went, of course, on the day and by the train 
 mentioned, with a fine disregard to her own arrange- 
 ments and to her brother's great discomforture. When 
 he remonstrated over what he called Adam's out- 
 rageous egoism that imagined all the world's interest 
 centred on his wife and probable son, Felicity said 
 steadily, 
 
 "I failed Adam once. I hope I shall never fail him 
 again. They are young, Alexander, and we are old. 
 Surely it's a very little thing for us to put our small 
 plans aside to help them on?" 
 
 Alexander was too dismayed by one phrase in her 
 speech to argue over this outrageous doctrine. 
 
 "Old! Felicity!" he gasped. "I'm old if you like, 
 but you are a girl." 
 
 "I'm forty-two," she answered, looking at him with 
 brave eyes that smiled. "Twenty-two years older than 
 Veronica, nineteen years older than Adam, and twelve 
 years older than Dominic." 
 
 Her brother looked away quickly. He had never 
 quite got over his disappointment there, and he re- 
 sented any reminder of its impossibility. 
 
 "Nonsense, nonsense," he repeated testily. "You
 
 196 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 are as old as you feel or look. To me you are a child 
 and I won't have you call yourself old. It's prepos- 
 terous and it makes me out a Methuselah." 
 
 She only laughed and smoothed his still ample grey 
 hair. 
 
 "I don't feel old. I am only facing facts. And 
 anyhow I regard Adam as my own boy, and I shall 
 stay and see him and Stella through this, even if it 
 means putting off our start a week. You wouldn't 
 mind it if he were your nephew really." 
 
 "He isn't Adam's a good fellow and is going to 
 reflect credit on me, but why do you care for him so 
 much?" 
 
 She frowned in a puzzled way. There were a good 
 many reasons, but none of them conclusive. 
 
 "I think firstly and mostly because he is so beauti^ 
 ful." 
 
 He pretended to be shocked and called her a pagan, 
 whereon she nodded her head. 
 
 "Perhaps I am, in a sense, but I always see Spirit 
 in matter. Is that paganism?" 
 
 "It's the antithesis," he grumbled. "Well, I sup- 
 pose you will go. I daresay Adam's absurd child will 
 be an ugly little girl and then where will you be?" 
 
 Felicity did not disclose to Alexander the real sense 
 of pleasure she felt that Adam should turn to her so 
 naturally for assistance ; should indeed almost demand 
 it as a right! She might well have been his mother 
 from the calm way he accepted her response to his 
 request 
 
 He met her at the station as arranged, but was not 
 very communicative. Felicity learnt more from his 
 looks than his speech. It was not till they were nearly 
 at the house that he brought himself to say what he 
 clearly had meant to say all along. 
 
 "I don't want Stella to meet or see Mrs. Felton," 
 he jerked out suddenly. "I don't suppose she will,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 197 
 
 because we have had rather a row over it. I daresay 
 is wasn't Stella's fault. But I can't let her be friends 
 with that sort of woman, especially just now." 
 
 "What's the matter with her?" 
 
 "Drink," returned Adam curtly, and then with an 
 air of relief he added, "It's all settled now, but it rather 
 upset Stella at the time, and I only warned you because 
 Mrs. Felton might try to call. He ought to put her 
 in a home." 
 
 "Poor thing," sighed Felicity pityingly. "Can't any- 
 thing be done?" 
 
 Adam shook his head. He was not without pity 
 himself, but considered his first duty was to safeguard 
 his wife. Pelton must manage his own affairs. 
 
 They arrived at 107 Marble Arch to find the sitting- 
 room in darkness, though some crushed-up cushions 
 suggested recent occupation. There was no sign of 
 books or work or any amusement and Adam frowned 
 a little as he turned up the light. 
 
 Stella entered almost immediately. She greeted 
 Felicity with cordiality and Adam with what looked 
 to Felicity very much like conciliation. There was a 
 little trace of effort in her voice, and from time to time 
 she glanced at Adam across the tea tray in a sideway 
 manner that worried Felicity. The longer she looked 
 at Stella the more uneasy she became. There was an 
 odd brightness in her eyes that went ill with the pallor 
 of her face. Still her animation was quite marked. 
 She was even witty and Adam was plainly pleased 
 and showed her a marked tenderness that had no 
 effect in lessening the watch she kept on him. 
 
 When tea was over he got up and said that "now 
 Stella had some one with her he would go and work." 
 
 "But I don't mind being alone, Adam," she said. 
 "I'm used to it." 
 
 He laughed and remarked that was all over now and 
 left them.
 
 198 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 When they were alone Stella first talked feverishly 
 and seemed to keep a watch on the door. Presently 
 she said abruptly, in a low voice: 
 
 "You see how it is? I hardly ever see him. He 
 thinks of nothing but his work." 
 
 "I expect he has been giving you more time than he 
 should spare with the exam ahead," 
 
 "I hate it!" Her voice lost its animation and be- 
 came dull and lifeless. 
 
 Felicity refrained from argument and made an ef- 
 fort to turn the conversation into other channels, but 
 Stella returned to the subject again and again, and 
 behind all her foolish words there lurked that strange, 
 half-veiled fear of her husband that shocked Felicity 
 as something uncanny and phantastical. 
 
 At dinner-time she made some effort to put this fear 
 away, and again talked well and was amusing. When 
 Adam bade Felicity good-night (Stella had long since 
 gone to bed), he said: 
 
 "I am most frightfully obliged to you for coming, 
 Madre. Stella looks better already. She got so 
 moped alone." 
 
 It was not till she was courting sleep that Felicity 
 had a sharp warning that the journey, the long day 
 and the anxiety had taken unexpected toll of her 
 strength and that if Stella was likely to benefit from 
 her visit she herself was most likely to reap a bad 
 harvest. . 
 
 Nevertheless she was down in time to see Adam off 
 next morning. And he told her he felt like another 
 man now she was in charge. 
 
 "Of course I shall stay," she murmured to herself, 
 as she watched him start, "and, after all, there are no 
 stairs here and there are at Bath."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 199 
 
 IV 
 
 Felicity had undertaken many difficult tasks in her 
 life, but at the end of a week she felt she had never 
 put her hand to so formidable a one as the care of 
 Adam's wife. The little fact of a bedroom on the 
 ground floor and no stairs was a poor set-off against 
 the continuous mental strain of contending with 
 Stella's whims. Once Felicity was installed, Stella 
 flung the whole responsibility of her well-being on 
 her and declined to recognise any obligation on her 
 part to restrain her own caprices. It is true she did 
 not fight very hard for her own ends. She generally 
 accepted Felicity's ruling with the resignation she 
 considered due to circumstances. It was really easier 
 to leave the direction of the day in another's hand than 
 decide for herself; so even though she might wish to 
 sleep when she should walk, go out when she should 
 lie down, eat strange things when a plain diet was the 
 order of the day, discuss clothes when she should be 
 resting, she as a rule did none of these things, and yet 
 continued to find life tolerable. But it meant per- 
 petual wear and tear to Felicity, to which was coupled 
 an unseen and incessant care for Adam himself 
 Adam, who with his really hard work needed good 
 food, cheerful company, and no worries in his home. 
 Felicity saw that his needs were granted him. He 
 took to spending two nights a week at Woolwich, and 
 reverted to his old habit of retreating to his den as 
 soon as dinner was over and the barest courtesy per- 
 mitted him. A visit to Stella in the morning before 
 leaving, and two hours with them in the evening, in- 
 cluding dinner, was practically all they saw of him, 
 but he made it apparent in that time that his interest 
 in his wife was not on a par with the shortness of 
 their interviews. Stella had indeed become to him
 
 200 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 something more than an exciting possession, or even 
 a fragile treasure that needed his protection from the 
 rough ways of a discourteous world. She was to be 
 the mother of his child and nothing that was obtain- 
 able for the well-being of that child and herself must 
 be withheld from her. 
 
 He faced the problem of fatherhood with a frank- 
 ness that Felicity found admirable and a little pathetic. 
 She realised it would be the strongest passion in his 
 life. 
 
 He was firm on the subject of protecting Stella 
 from her mother. 
 
 "Stella's inclined to fancies, herself," he said. "I 
 don't want a faddy child. Get her to take plenty of 
 exercise, Madre, and to take up some hobby. Doesn't 
 she like sewing?" 
 
 Felicity kept back a smile. 
 
 "She can sew." 
 
 "Well, she ought to keep amused. I am not wor- 
 ried, though, now you are here. You are a brick, 
 Madre!" 
 
 Madre was humbly grateful for his gratitude. 
 
 She kept her promise. As far as lay in her power, 
 Adam should have the healthy normal offspring he 
 wanted, but she had her misgivings over it. Stella 
 was so entirely a person of moods. 
 
 What troubled Felicity was not the moods she 
 made generous allowance for them but behind them 
 lay something furtive and hidden, that Felicity alter- 
 jiately feared to explore and feared to ignore. Stella 
 protested often her thankfulness at Felicity's presence, 
 but the latter caught a note of insincerity in the words 
 which would alternate with a pathetic clinging to her 
 companion and a childish fear of being left alone. 
 
 Always there was that odd sense of watch on Adam. 
 Sometimes she would sit through dinner, morose and 
 irritable or pathetically tired and languid, then occa-
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 201 
 
 sionally these fits would be dispersed by what Felicity 
 first thought was a valiant effort to conquer them. At 
 such times Stella would be amazingly witty and amus- 
 ing, but the intermittent successes were always suc- 
 ceeded by a fit of depression as soon as Adam had 
 gone. 
 
 One evening, about an hour before dinner, Felicity 
 went to her room and found her indulging in the for- 
 bidden luxury of strong black coffee. Stella sulked 
 for fifteen minutes after Felicity's firm dismissal of 
 the coffee, and then was seized with remorse and exas- 
 perating penitence. Declared she had felt abnormally 
 sleepy and wanted to be awake when Adam returned. 
 Felicity pointed out that Adam would rather have her 
 sleepy than taking forbidden things. 
 
 Stella's eyes flickered strangely. 
 
 "You don't know," she said in a low voice. "If I 
 were sleepy and stupid, Adam might get silly ideas 
 into his head. He wouldn't be reasonable. He'd be 
 angry, and I should be frightened. Adam could be 
 awful if he were really angry." 
 
 "You and I have never seen him so," Felicity re- 
 minded her. "And certainly he would never be angry 
 without a reason. You are the last person in the 
 world to be afraid of him." 
 
 Yet there was very real fear in the glance that Stella 
 flung towards the door. 
 
 "I am afraid," she persisted; "and I have seen him 
 angry. He was angry about Mrs. Felton." 
 
 Felicity, remembering Adam's remarks on the sub- 
 ject, tried to turn the directions of Stella's thoughts. 
 
 "Well, obey orders, and don't take black coffee and 
 don't let your imagination run away with you," she 
 said cheerfully. "Are you going to change your 
 dress?" 
 
 "I should die if he were really angry with me," 
 Stella muttered unheedingly.
 
 202 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 Felicity insisted on the subject of dress, and Stella 
 was induced to change. The incident left an unpleas- 
 ant impression on Felicity's mind. She found herself 
 alert to catch sight of this extraordinary attitude of 
 Stella's towards her husband that seemed founded on 
 nothing substantial. 
 
 Yet her moods were not invariably contrary. When 
 not engrossed in herself she was interesting, and at 
 times betrayed an uncanny insight into other people's 
 motives that took Felicity aback. Also she had an 
 amusing faculty for endowing material things with 
 personalities. She cared for things far more than she 
 cared for people, and she had a precise knowledge of 
 what she wanted that was trying to shopkeepers used 
 to the facile nature of the majority of shoppers. She 
 would show remarkable intuition in her shopping, 
 electing perfectly unlikely places to unearth her needs, 
 and invariably succeeding. Colour was a passion with 
 her, and she liked it to suit her moods. Beauty in 
 any form excited her oddly and her passionate admira- 
 tion for her husband had root in his physical perfec- 
 tions rather thau his character. But the admiration 
 did form a link between her and Felicity. 
 
 Her occasional brilliancy at dinner seemed closely 
 connected with the length of her rest in the afternoon, 
 and in these flashes of intellectualism Felicity discov- 
 ered she was better read than she had imagined, at 
 least in modern literature. 
 
 At such times Adam, who quite frequently under- 
 stood nothing of what she was saying, could not avoid 
 displaying a little hint of pride to the visitor, as if he 
 were inviting her to own he really was not quite such 
 a fool as she had thought in selecting his wife. He, 
 indeed, went so far as to express himself on the sub- 
 ject one day when alone with Madre. 
 
 "Stella has all the sorts of brains I haven't," he re- 
 marked ; "so it ought to turn out very well."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 203 
 
 His thoughts, even in consideration of Stella's brain 
 power, never wandered long from the question of his 
 prospective fatherhood. 
 
 One evening, when Adam was prepared to go off to 
 work rather earlier than usual, Stella betrayed her 
 annoyance openly. She turned away her head from 
 his good-night caress and said petulantly : 
 
 "You are glad of a pretence to go." 
 
 Adam laughed. "I should be glad of a pretence to 
 stay." 
 
 "Why should he want a pretence?" complained 
 Stella, when he had gone. 
 
 "I expect if you were not well, or alone, his work 
 would go to the wall." 
 
 "I'm not well !" she retorted sharply. 
 
 "Yes, you are! To be ill is to be abnormal, and 
 there's nothing abnormal in your feeling tired to- 
 night." 
 
 "Well, it's equivalent to saying he doesn't care for 
 me unless something is the matter." 
 
 Some one besides Stella was tired that night before 
 Stella's fatigue took her to bed. It was a relief to 
 put the lights low, to open the windows wide to admit 
 the air for which she craved. The rattle and roar 
 of the streets outside was better than the laden still- 
 ness of the warm room. Her mind revolved uneasily 
 over her own hasty definition of illness. It was, of 
 course, hasty and faulty, yet in a dimly and unwilling 
 way she began to fit it to conditions which seemed 
 remotely concerned with her own personality. 
 
 One cold, sunless day Stella complained of head- 
 ache, and nothing would induce her to go out, but she 
 was most anxious that Felicity should do so, and pro- 
 posed that she should go up to Hampstead to see Ve-
 
 204 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 ronica. Felicity hesitated a while. She really did 
 want to see her daughter, but she did not like leaving 
 Stella so long alone. However, in the end, Stella 
 prevailed. She promised to lie down and rest and 
 Felicity left her comfortably installed on the sofa with 
 instructions that she was not to be disturbed till tea 
 time unless she rang. 
 
 Felicity went to Hampstead and had a happy after- 
 noon with Veronica, who lodged vigorous objections 
 to her mother's heartwhole abandonment of herself to 
 the needs of the Preston menage. She was even more 
 exasperated with Adam than Alexander had been and 
 less careful to say so, but Felicity only answered 
 mildly : 
 
 "Well, my dear, if you had really wanted me for 
 any reason it would have been another matter." 
 
 "We always want you," returned Veronica 
 promptly. 
 
 "It's nice to be wanted." 
 
 "It's a pleasure in which you actually luxuriate. 
 The best sort of Lenten penance for you would be 
 to make yourself generally unpopular." 
 
 "But I don't keep Lent," her mother protested. 
 
 "That, of course, is deplorable. Unselfish people 
 ought to have a close time to give others a chance." 
 
 "I'm not unselfish. Not more than other peo- 
 ple." 
 
 "You are. Dominic says so." 
 
 "That is final, of course." 
 
 "Of course!" Veronica opened her blue eyes in 
 surprise. "I thought you knew better than any one 
 else how clever he was." 
 
 "I am not sure I have ever thought about his clever- 
 ness." 
 
 "You should certainly keep Lent to give yourself 
 time to study other people's virtues." 
 
 "Is cleverness a virtue?" inquired Felicity meekly.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 205 
 
 "In Dominic." 
 
 "Why this enthusiasm for Lent?" 
 
 "We went to church last Sunday. I really forget 
 why. Dominic had no one to golf with, or else I had 
 no letters to write, or we were both cross I think it 
 must have been that. So we went because, as we 
 couldn't possibly be crosser, we were bound to be made 
 more amiable. We came home in an angelic frame of 
 mind. The sermon was all about Lent, and the 
 preacher was so young that one wondered he had had 
 time to learn so much. I nearly made up my mind to 
 do without jam, and Dominic to do without a pipe 
 I believe he prefers cigarettes but we got comman3 
 of our senses before we reached home. I don't think 
 young men like that, with persuasive tongues and good 
 looks, ought to be allowed to stand up there and 
 make people in the mood to make fools of them- 
 selves." 
 
 "Oh, my dear child!" laughed Felicity. "All the 
 same it is not seemly for you to laugh at people who 
 are in earnest" 
 
 Veronica objected that she did not know if he were 
 in earnest or not. 
 
 "He might just be trying to find out how much he 
 could sway our unstable minds. Let us forget him. 
 It depresses me, Madre. Patricia Masters has offered 
 to take in Christopher and Nurse in her own nurs- 
 ery if Dominic can get away in April so we can go 
 abroad." 
 
 It sounded an ideal arrangement. Patricia's own 
 babies wanted nothing that affection and money could 
 obtain for them, and Stormly, despite its proximity 
 to the Black Country, was healthy enough. 
 
 Felicity looked at the clock and said she must go. 
 She said it with evident reluctance, which Veronica 
 was not slow to point out to her as a reason for longer 
 absence, but Felicity was firm. She said she felt
 
 206 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 much refreshed, and promised to come again as soon 
 as she could. 
 
 All the way back she kept her mind as much as 
 possible on Veronica and her nonsense. Her gaiety 
 had been a good tonic after Stella's mournful languor 
 or rather stinging wit. She began to count up the 
 weeks till she could start for Bavano and to reckon 
 up the chance of Dominic and Veronica ending up 
 their trip with her there. It would be new ground 
 for Dominic and she longed to show it him. 
 
 Behind each thought and persistently dragging at 
 her consciousness was a desire to get back to Stella, 
 and a vague uneasiness to which she would not suc- 
 cumb. Even when she arrived and found the room 
 deserted and the fire out she refused to allow her mind 
 to leap to conclusions. She rang the bell for the 
 maid to relight the fire, took off her things and then 
 went to the door of Stella's room and knocked softly. 
 There was no answer and a maid passing looked at 
 her oddly as if she expected to be questioned. Felicity 
 turned the handle and went in. 
 
 Stella was lying on the bed in a rest gown with 
 loose sleeves. She seemed asleep and Felicity turned 
 up the shaded light and looked at her. 
 
 It was heavy sleep, yet the eyes were not quite 
 closed. There was something almost uncanny in her 
 repose. It was so complete, so deep, so arresting. 
 Felicity bent over her and touched her hand that lay 
 on the gorgeous Japanese coverlet. 
 
 "Stella!" she called firmly. 
 
 There was not so much as the flicker of an eyelid. 
 She pushed up the wide sleeve on the white arm, tak- 
 ing no precautions now not to rouse the sleeping girl. 
 There, on the forearm, were three or four little black 
 marks. Felicity let the sleeve fall and looked round 
 the room. There was a glass of water on the table 
 near the bed and a little china saucer nothing else.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 207 
 
 At least nothing that she was looking for. She put 
 her hand under the pillows and felt something, drew 
 it out and carried it to the light. 
 
 A hypodermic syringe and a small bottle of minute 
 tablets, labelled : "Morphine. One to the dose." 
 
 Felicity put the things down and stood gazing at the 
 senseless form. Wave after wave of explanations and 
 understandings swept over her. This, then, was what 
 Mark had known and feared ; this, then, was the secret 
 of that nervous illness, of the visit to the German 
 doctor, and of Mark's letters. Stella had deceived 
 her, though that troubled her little. She could not 
 even think of Stella for the moment. Her whole 
 thought was for Adam and for Adam's child. Her 
 whole being was active towards protection. It was as 
 if she must spread quivering wings between them and 
 disaster. Then sharply she was aware that Stella her- 
 self must lie under that winged love. Not from her 
 but with her must this small household of helpless, 
 blundering souls be saved from the mastery of cir- 
 cumstance. 
 
 She went nearer the insensible form and was no 
 longer repulsed by it. There was an indolent grace in 
 Stella's attitude of complete repose, and Felicity redis- 
 covered that the girl was beautiful and that her beauty 
 showed even through the sombre depths of her ill- 
 found sleep. It was to an understanding of Adam 
 rather than Stella that she came, and it was with a 
 little shock of surprise. She had only thought of 
 the woman within, but Adam she knew it now had, 
 indeed, been from the first aware only of the woman 
 without. That Stella's rather exotic beauty should 
 have touched him was one of the mysteries that no 
 woman could fathom, but so it was, and therefore it 
 was clear to Felicity that the inner woman, whom he 
 must know some day, must be dragged back to the 
 pedestal on which Adam fondly imagined she dwelt,
 
 208 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 Stella's eyes opened slowly, seeing nothing; then 
 a dull discontent crept into them. She moved her 
 arm. Her hand stole towards the pillow, and stopped 
 as she became conscious of Felicity's presence. She 
 felt fretfully annoyed at it. Her eyes closed again. 
 
 "It's past tea time, Stella. Won't you wake?" said 
 Felicity gently. 
 
 She herself wanted air, wanted it badly. She felt 
 the room hot and close and pulled the curtains aside 
 and opened the windows. The cold evening air rushed 
 in, swept into corners, stirred the curtains, freshened 
 the room. 
 
 "Why do you do that?" muttered Stella crossly. 
 "I don't want to get up. Please shut it again." 
 
 Instead of doing so, Felicity put a rug over her and 
 she immediately shut her eyes again. 
 
 Through a hazy mist of golden light, Felicity's 
 voice sank down to her, calling, calling, slitting the 
 haze mercilessly so that a veritable storm of fierce hate 
 surged over her and yet found expression in mere weak 
 tears and faint entreaties to be let alone. 
 
 "How much did you take, Stella?" 
 
 The question was gently and quietly put and yet 
 the golden mist melted at it, leaving her alone in a 
 terrifying discomfort and dumb misery. 
 
 She could not see the room, but she could see Fe- 
 licity standing by the dressing table examining some- 
 thing in her hand. Something she must not see! 
 Stella struggled up on her elbow. 
 
 "That's mine! You have no business to touch it!" 
 
 "If it had been Adam who ' 
 
 That was enough! Stella was whirled back to 
 wakefulness and comprehension and terror desperate 
 terror. 
 
 She flung herself from the bed and on to the floor 
 before Felicity, clutching at her and shaking and gasp- 
 ing.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 209 
 
 "Don't tell him ! Don't let him know, Madre ! He'd 
 shut me up! He'd kill me! He mustn't know! He 
 mustn't! Say he's not coming, Madre!" 
 
 Felicity got her back on the tumbled bed, soothing 
 her, holding her in her arms, and telling her again and 
 again that Adam did not know and was not coming. 
 
 The paramount necessity was to calm her, and Fe- 
 licity, knowing it, was hard put to achieve this and 
 escape that promise of secrecy that Stella wildly 
 pressed on her. 
 
 The most effectual argument was that unless she 
 got command of herself Adam might return and de- 
 mand explanations of her condition. Felicity knew 
 quite well that the chance of Adam's return that night 
 was small. It had been left in doubt that morning; 
 he was to wire if he were coming, and no wire had 
 arrived. But she lied bravely and by degrees she got 
 Stella to take hold of herself. 
 
 She bathed her face and hands, and ordered tea, 
 and insisted on Stella coming into the sitting-room. 
 She talked of Veronica and Christopher and the merits 
 of a new dressmaker that Veronica had found. Finally 
 she told her it was now past seven and that as Adam 
 had not wired he would not be returning. Where- 
 upon Stella let go her hardly achieved control and 
 began to cry. Later on she became irritable and cross 
 to such a degree that when Felicity had once got her 
 to bed again, she went to her own room and lay back 
 in a chair with tears of weariness in her eyes. It was 
 no use being tired. The problem had to be faced 
 and settled. Was she to tell Adam and let him deal 
 with it, or was she to tackle it herself? 
 
 There was only one answer. To put Adam in 
 charge of such a case was like putting a child with a 
 sick baby in charge of a cupboard full of medicines 
 most of which were poisonous.
 
 210 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 VI 
 
 The next day, by dint of infinite patience and tact, 
 she got the facts of the case from Stella, or at least the 
 essential facts. 
 
 She had acquired the habit of taking drugs and 
 acquired it badly in those miserable days following 
 her youthful indiscretion. Mark had discovered it 
 and it was Mark who had sent her to the doctor. 
 Felicity was appalled to learn how easily she had ob- 
 tained the drug at the cost of a little ingenious du- 
 plicity. The same methods had procured it for her 
 now when under the stress of acute depression and 
 physical disability her thoughts had again turned to 
 the forbidden relief. 
 
 "I felt Adam was getting tired of my being so dull 
 and stupid and it does brighten one up so," she moaned 
 plaintively. 
 
 She seemed to have little sense of shame and her 
 greatest concern was the keeping of the knowledge 
 of her weakness from Adam. The very thought of 
 his knowing threw her into a paroxysm of nervous 
 hysteria the result of which threatened to bring disas- 
 ter on Adam's hopes and Stella's own well-being. How 
 much ground there was for her terror of her husband, 
 Felicity could not determine. She knew, of course, 
 that Adam would not willingly have hurt a hair of 
 her head, and would have let himself be cut in pieces 
 before endangering the life of his unborn child. Still, 
 if he knew, he would have to deal with Stella one way 
 or another, and Felicity was by no means sure he 
 would hit on the right way. Stella founded her fear 
 on the unhappy little passage of arms over Mrs. 
 Felton. Adam had shown himself then hard and, to 
 Stella's mind, horribly harsh over the matter. He had 
 frightened her by his unswerving condemnation of
 
 211 
 
 the unhappy woman and above all, by his pronounced 
 conviction that Felton had better put her in a home. 
 She retained strange, blurred terrors of her own so- 
 journ with the German doctor, who, after all, had 
 cured her, for though she had now slipped back into the 
 intolerable habit, Felicity could see it had been almost 
 a deliberate slipping back, and that far from making 
 any effort to control herself, she had rather excited 
 her own imagination and clutched at the spurious 
 relief with mental satisfaction. She admitted she had 
 been in the habit of taking one small dose for some 
 time any evening when she had felt particularly dull 
 and dispirited. That one tablet produced a feeling of 
 exhilaration and cleared her brain, and that a second 
 later on stilled the reacting depression, that three pro- 
 duced sleep and golden dreams, but that so far she had 
 rarely exceeded one for fear of detection! 
 
 She had quite thought that when Felicity came she 
 would no longer need the stuff, and yet had found her 
 appetite for it grow with resistless force ; though never 
 till to-day had she ventured on a full dose. 
 
 "I took four," she confessed. "I wanted to make 
 sure of sleep and I used to take more. Of course I 
 shan't take it any more now that is, if you don't tell 
 Adam." 
 
 She turned haggard, anxious eyes on Felicity. It 
 seemed to her quite simple to renounce it when the 
 craving was not on her, and her insensibility to the 
 enormity and strength of her weakness struck Felicity 
 with forebodings. Could she really contend with the 
 matter single-handed? Wasn't it her plain duty to 
 tell Adam and leave the responsibility to him ? 
 
 Stella with sharp penetration read the doubt in 
 Felicity's mind and instantly the hysterical panic 
 flashed out. She clung to her, entreating her to keep 
 silence and at last Felicity put her back in a chair and 
 gave in.
 
 213 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Listen, Stella," she said firmly. "I am going to 
 do what you ask, I promise you. I will not tell Adam 
 at present. Not until you say I may. He must know 
 ultimately, remember, but I will wait till you are 
 stronger and your baby is born. Till then I will stay 
 with you and help you all I can if you will do your 
 part. Promise me, on your side, that you will tell me 
 if ever whenever your thoughts turn to this dread- 
 ful thing. I can't hope now to make you see how 
 dangerous it is, but you must believe you are endan- 
 gering your life and your child's life. I have got your 
 syringe and the bottle of tablets and I shall destroy 
 them and then it must be done with." 
 
 "Darling, darling Madre!" 
 
 "But you quite understand that Adam must know 
 later on, when you can see there is nothing to fear 
 from him. I will tell him myself, if you wish." 
 
 "Yes, but only when I say so, Madre?" 
 
 "If you will promise on your side?" 
 
 "I will promise what you like if only you will be 
 good to me." 
 
 "Then I promise and I never break my word, nor 
 must you." 
 
 "Oh, Madre dear, if I had only had you always!" 
 
 "My dear, let us think of the future, not of the 
 past. One thing more. Have you any more of those 
 tablets?" 
 
 She looked at her straightly. Stella shot a quick 
 glance at her and then looked away. 
 
 "No, really and truly no, Madre !" 
 
 She looked back into Felicity's eyes with rather a 
 frightened air. 
 
 "That's all right. I believe you, Stella." 
 
 She took the syringe and little bottle away with her. 
 Both must be destroyed at once. She could not feel 
 safe till that was done. 
 
 Stella looked after her with an odd expression, and
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 213 
 
 when she had gone she rose and went to her secre- 
 taire, opened a drawer and took from it a little leather 
 case. She stood with it in her hands for a moment, 
 her eyes wandering furtively from it to the door and 
 then to the fire. She had quite a strong desire to 
 burn it, but not quite strong enough. Finally she de- 
 posited the case at the very back of a drawer in a 
 little work table which stood between the windows. 
 The drawer was deep and the table covered with a 
 cloth. There was, however, no bottle of tablets with 
 the case Stella had been perfectly truthful in her 
 answer to Felicity.
 
 214 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 "Now I Must Deceive My Friend or Shat- 
 ter His Future." 
 
 THE days went on slowly. Stella clung to Felicity 
 with real heart-whole sincerity, and Felicity watched 
 her without seeming watching, and was for the most 
 part satisfied that Stella was actually fighting any for- 
 bidden desire. She did her utmost to keep her amused, 
 and succeeded in interesting her in the subject of old 
 lace, which brought about excursions to various muse- 
 ums and quaint shops and the ransacking of libraries 
 for books on the subject. It was an expensive hobby, 
 but Adam made no objection. The essential thing 
 was to keep Stella employed, and lace sounded to him 
 a harmless and feminine habit. His real concern was 
 Madre herself. He was uneasily conscious that she 
 did not look so fit as she used to look, and that she too 
 seemed always ready for rest, a state of being which 
 he secretly thought only excusable in Stella. He met 
 Bessington one day and asked him bluntly if he 
 thought Madre was quite the thing. 
 
 Bessington said after a moment's hesitation that 
 they both thought her unwell, but that she had refused 
 to see a doctor and only laughed at them for fussing. 
 He, however, took the first chance that offered to 
 ask her if she did not find the Preston household too 
 much of a job, and if she couldn't hurry up her prepa- 
 rations and get abroad,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 215 
 
 "On the contrary," she answered. "I've just put 
 off going for a week. I am going to see them 
 through." 
 
 Both Dominic and Veronica remonstrated in vain, 
 and Felicity gave up the habit of resting when Adam 
 was at home. 
 
 She had taken the precaution to go to the shop 
 where Stella had obtained her tablets and warned 
 them that Mrs. Preston was not to be supplied. The 
 head of the business, whom she saw, was sorry and 
 concerned, but defended himself by saying the paper 
 shown them was signed by a doctor. Felicity did not 
 enter into particulars as to the authenticity of the sig- 
 nature, and having done this much to ensure Stella's 
 safety, she felt more secure. She performed this little 
 ceremony on one of the now rare occasions when she 
 went out without Stella, and going home she went into 
 her own chemist and bought something she required. 
 She had the parcel in her hand when she went into 
 Stella and left it on the table by mistake. Stella from 
 where she sat, could, and did read the label with the 
 chemist's name and Mrs. Crofton written on it. 
 
 The chemist lived quite near, she noticed. 
 
 Felicity's greatest triumph, however, was the arous- 
 ing Stella to interest in the baby that would be hers. 
 She had to combat an odd jealousy, for Stella was 
 fully aware of the importance Adam already attached 
 to his child as apart from herself, but still there actu- 
 ally was born in her heart an interest, and even plea- 
 sure, in the contemplation of something that would be 
 so entirely her own possession! 
 
 This was not the attitude Felicity would have 
 chosen to awake, but it was better than apathy, and 
 betrayed an instinct for motherhood which might 
 make all the difference in both her and Adam's future. 
 
 All this time Felicity was making the final prepara- 
 tions for her coming exodus to Italy, or rather, for
 
 216 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 her preparations as usual were almost automatic in 
 their simplicity assisting at the innumerable prepara- 
 tions and final arrangements which families less accus- 
 tomed to foreign wanderings considered necessary. 
 Felicity looked forward to this time with her dearly 
 loved young people with an intensity that surprised 
 herself. The thought of it coming daily nearer and 
 nearer carried her over many hours of fatigue and 
 strain. She felt how good would be the sane simple 
 happiness, how amusing even the funny little squabbles 
 between her house party after the menage at Marble 
 Arch, and if only Dominic and Veronica could join 
 her, she felt the year would be one to count as a red- 
 letter year, in spite of its inauspicious beginning. 
 
 The one evening just when she had felt lulled into 
 real security, Stella betrayed an alarming vivacity at 
 dinner which charmed Adam and left Felicity cold 
 with dread. She asked no questions, knowing it to be 
 useless, but she renewed her precautions and she 
 ceased going to Hampstead, since it involved too long 
 an absence. 
 
 ii 
 
 One afternoon Adam returned early from Wool- 
 wich. He thought he had earned a holiday and in- 
 tended dealing with some letters and then playing 
 golf. Stella was resting and Madre not visible. It 
 rather annoyed him, because she might have assisted 
 him to find a missing letter which he felt sure he had 
 left on the mantel-piece of his own room that morn- 
 ing. It was not there now and it looked suspiciously 
 as if the room had been turned out, in which case he 
 thought with despair the letter might be anywhere. 
 Perhaps it had been carried into the sitting-room even. 
 Having exhausted possibilities in his own den, he 
 turned to the other room. It was not on the mantel-
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 217 
 
 piece there, and that too looked as if some one had 
 had an access of tidiness. He turned over the con- 
 tents of one or two drawers and sorted them care- 
 fully. They seemed mostly full of bits of strings, 
 advertisements or needlework. The likelihood of the 
 missing envelope being among them was remote, still 
 there was a faint possibility that it might have got 
 mixed up with some papers and tidied away here by 
 either Stella or Felicity, or the maid. He hesitated 
 a moment as to opening the secretaire till he remem- 
 bered that Stella kept all her letters in a despatch box 
 which was in her room, and that the pigeon holes here 
 contained nothing of a private nature, nothing at all 
 indeed but a few bills and writing paper. A small 
 table covered with a cloth stood between the two win- 
 dows. It was the last thing left to examine. It had 
 only one drawer which he opened with no hope. 
 
 The drawer contained a book of Indian poems, 
 some theatre programmes, a fan which he knew was 
 Madre's, that seemed all, but he put his hand to the 
 very back and found two other items, a little black 
 leather case and a small white parcel, obviously the 
 make up of a chemist. He stood a moment, looking 
 at these things with an odd sense of irritation and 
 dislike. There was something secret and furtive in 
 their appearance there at the very back of the drawer. 
 He opened the case. It contained a delicate little silver 
 hypodermic syringe. His sense of irritation changed 
 to sudden anger that was akin to fear. He tore open 
 the white packet. It held a little bottle of minute 
 white tablets which was labelled, "Morphine. One to 
 a dose." 
 
 He stood gazing at them, with scornful wrath 
 against some unknown creature of a habit for which 
 he had nothing but contempt and sick loathing, then 
 hearing a little gasp behind him, he turned and found 
 himself face to face with Felicity.
 
 218 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Give me that, please, Adam!" 
 
 She spoke very quietly, though there was a singing 
 in her ears and a sense of incomplete personality that 
 stifled her, and she held out her hand. But Adam 
 gripped the accursed things he held yet more tightly, 
 and spun round on her. 
 
 "Whose are they?" he demanded curtly. 
 
 She had only an instant of time for her decision, 
 though her thoughts annihilated time. She faced in 
 that instant her promise to Stella, the partial victory 
 already gained, and the implied lies when the other 
 syringe had been destroyed, and the new deception 
 and the danger to Adam's child if his anger should 
 even for a moment outrun his humanity. It all rushed 
 across her mind, beclouding perhaps her judgment, 
 leaving only one issue clear. Adam's child must be 
 protected ! 
 
 She held out her hand again. 
 
 "Give it to me please it's mine." 
 
 He faced her, incredulous and dum founded. 
 
 "It's morphine drugs; it can't be yours." 
 
 She only reiterated her demand. 
 
 "Please give it me." 
 
 With him, too, the rush of thoughts spun through 
 the clouded seconds, but his slower brain grappled with 
 but one of these clamouring demands on his reason. 
 Was this what was the matter with Madre ? Her lan- 
 guor, her avoidance of him, her refusal to see a doc- 
 tor. Was it all traceable to this sickening beastly 
 thing, and she was Madre, the woman he had re- 
 spected and loved almost as his own mother, the 
 woman to whose strong common sense he had con- 
 fided the welfare of his wife and his unborn child! 
 
 She stood there, quietly demanding her belongings 
 unashamed, almost undismayed. 
 
 Extreme horror, and passionate resentment at being 
 in some way duped, struck him with a fierce gust of
 
 
 "GIVE ME THAT, PLEASE, ADAM"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 219 
 
 anger. He struggled for words and found none, and 
 all the while she stood there white faced and with 
 eyes on his waiting for him to give her these 
 things ! 
 
 He would never give them. It should never be in 
 her power to say he had helped her even that futile 
 step on the way to degradation. He swept her aside 
 and into the heart of the fire he crammed the leather 
 case and the little glass phial, crashed it down into 
 the flame first with his heel, and then with a more 
 effective poker. 
 
 Then he stood up and looked at her again. 
 
 She watched him with such approval in her eyes 
 that it was well for her purpose he did not see her 
 face too soon. She looked away indeed as he looked 
 up and saw the white paper which had wrapped the 
 phial lying on the floor. She picked it up mechanically 
 and saw her own name inscribed on it. 
 
 For a second her resolution wavered before this 
 proof of a new treachery and then with a ghost of a 
 smile she handed it to Adam with the name upper- 
 most. 
 
 He snatched it from her roughly, just scanned the 
 writing, and flung it into the fire. 
 
 Then at last his anger found crippled expression. 
 
 "If I hadn't seen it myself I should not have be- 
 lieved it. Of course I know women do these things, 
 but though there was clearly something wrong with 
 you, I should never in my wildest thoughts have be- 
 lieved this! and I had got you here to look after 
 Stella ! You might have easily refused I haven't any 
 real claim on you, but you came, came with this abom- 
 inable thing with you to take care of an expectant 
 mother! If I thought Stella knew I " 
 
 Felicity saw his clenched hand and the hard fierce 
 look in his face, and for the first time she understood 
 Stella's fear of him!
 
 220 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 She put out her hands, shaking a little. 
 
 "Don't touch me, Adam. Stella does not suspect 
 me for a moment !" 
 
 "She must have no chance of doing so. The shock 
 alone would be awful and I can't have it near her 
 or the child." He choked a little. 
 
 There was a little pause. His mind began roaming 
 wildly towards relief and he caught at the possibility. 
 "Are you ill, Madre? Is it because there is anything 
 wrong?" 
 
 But she would not seize the plank of safety swept 
 towards her grasp. She had not in the remotest way 
 connected this cursed thing with herself. It had been 
 a mere matter of words, but she recoiled from the 
 recognition of physical illness, for her acceptance of 
 this spelt disaster defeat! 
 
 "No, I am not ill. There is nothing at all the mat- 
 ter," she gasped. Adam saw for the first time fear in 
 the eyes of the woman whom he had thought honour- 
 able and faithful. 
 
 He turned away bitterly disappointed. 
 
 "It's a damned sickening business," he muttered. 
 
 Still not a vestige of fear or pity for her, though 
 she stretched her senses to catch it behind his halt- 
 ing words. His wife and his child triumphed over 
 affection and friendship of years, over the selfless 
 devotion that he had never really recognised or even 
 guessed at. 
 
 "What do you wish me to do?" 
 
 She was stunned and dazed now, at a loss to trace 
 any sequence in the maddening situation, only half 
 comprehending how it had all arisen, and still far from 
 gripping the ultimate result for herself. 
 
 His mouth hardened, 
 i "I can't have you with Stella." 
 
 "She cannot stay alone, Adam." She was surprised 
 at her own firmness of tone,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 221 
 
 "As soon as you find some one else to take charge of 
 her I will go." 
 
 He thrust his hands into his pockets and walked to 
 and fro. Her concern for Stella added fuel to his 
 anger. She had deceived him, tricked him into regard, 
 affection even. He hated thinking that he wanted her 
 gone so he might forget. Forget fulness was the best 
 that could be! 
 
 "Jane Mitchen will come, no doubt. I will wire to 
 her. Do you know I had a row with Stella not long 
 ago to keep her from knowing a woman who drank 
 only drank, and I thought it beyond words. Oh, it's 
 unspeakable." 
 
 "Don't let's speak of it then, Adam. Go and tele- 
 phone to Miss Mitchen, but I will tell Stella myself 
 that I am going away." 
 
 He was up in arms again, all for forbidding her 
 access to Stella at all, but she met him steadily, or held 
 to her point. She would see Stella and explain in her 
 own way. 
 
 "I know how to tell her," she reiterated, "and you 
 don't. You will upset her, and she must not be upset, 
 it is vitally important. She is rather afraid of you, 
 Adam, and more nervous than you think. Be careful 
 with her. I am thinking of your child." 
 
 "So am I," he retorted grimly, "but you might have 
 done so before." 
 
 "You had better go and wire, if she can come to- 
 night I will leave at once." 
 
 He still hesitated. He wanted to say things, not 
 angry things now. He was dimly conscious he should 
 do something for her, but she seemed so undesirous of 
 aid. If she had shown any signs of weakness or help- 
 lessness, he would have done something, though he 
 knew not what, to blot over this black knowledge be- 
 tween them. But she needed nothing. She stood 
 there, watching him with something in her face that
 
 222 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 kept his anger awake it was Bessington and Ve- 
 ronica's business after all ! Stella must not know ; on 
 that point he was determined. But Madre would prob- 
 ably find the best excuse for going she was clever 
 enough at hiding things, it seemed ! 
 
 If only she would not watch him with that odd pa- 
 tient smile, looking as if she wanted to take care of 
 him. In another moment she would be making him 
 sit down and getting him tea, comforting him for his 
 ruined friendship. He made a big effort and went 
 away without any more words. 
 
 Felicity stood still, till the closing of the hall door 
 told her he had gone out. Then she sat down slowly, 
 shivering a little with a curious fear in her eyes. She 
 sat quite still for nearly ten minutes, and during that 
 time she did not think consciously of what had hap- 
 pened. She observed that the window curtains had 
 faded in stripes, that a picture was crooked, and that 
 in another picture the girl was clad in a bizarre bro- 
 cade of fantastic pattern, that made odd shapes, that 
 the carpet also could be tortured into strange weird 
 pictures to semblances of things that were nameless. 
 Between these waves of disconnected thought, she 
 measured pulse by pulse the slow faint beat of her 
 heart, so faint she could hardly bear the strain of 
 breathing at all. She measured that and the time that 
 must elapae before she could walk across the room out 
 into the corridor to her own room, and those little 
 white tablets which would set this weary machinery 
 going again but they were not of morphine. 
 
 Then she must go and tell Stella. 
 
 Gradually the hazy nothings melted back into space 
 and the real issues became clear again, and she faced 
 them. 
 
 She first assured herself with great emphasis that 
 if things had been as Adam believed them, his be- 
 haviour would have been clearly justified. It would
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 223 
 
 have been his first duty to turn her out, according to 
 his way of looking at things. She had to make that 
 concession to her reason. Still, the real question was 
 not the rights and wrongs of Adam's action, but the 
 result of it on Stella. 
 
 Would it not have been wiser to tell Adam the whole 
 truth now, and trust to his love for Stella to curb the 
 contempt and horror he had so abundantly lavished 
 on her? Given time, he would of course see the neces- 
 sity of this, but meanwhile the mischief might be done. 
 It was with a stab of pain she felt she could not trust 
 him, that she doubted his real capacity for dealing with 
 the situation, his capacity for the love that suffereth 
 all things. It would mean shipwreck to their chance 
 of future happiness if she failed Stella, and probable 
 disaster to the child. Even if she got him right away 
 and made him see the matter as she saw it, he would 
 betray himself to Stella. He could never play a part. 
 Beside she had promised Stella. 
 
 That was the end of the matter. Unless Stella 
 chose to tell Adam herself, she must let Adam go on 
 thinking what he did till his child was born. No doubt 
 after that Stella would be different. 
 
 Meanwhile Stella must be told. She dragged her- 
 self at last from the chair to her own room, and to 
 the remedy that after all so much resembled in ap- 
 pearance that which had so aroused Adam's wrath. 
 
 Ten minutes later she entered Stella's room, and 
 Stella rather fretfully complained that she was late. 
 
 in 
 
 Adam returned home about six o'clock. He had 
 wired at five to say Cousin Jane would come round 
 that very evening. He did his best to bring himself 
 to an attitude of greater consideration for Madre,
 
 224 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 determining to ask her to put herself into Bessington's 
 hands. He was sure Bessington was quite fitted to 
 deal with the terrible question. Meanwhile he must 
 also make sure Stella did not communicate with her. 
 What excuse had Madre made to her? 
 
 He had no opportunity of putting his consideration 
 into practice. When he returned home he found a 
 letter from Madre waiting for him. It was lying on 
 the hall table, and he took it into his own room with a 
 new sense of irritation. 
 
 The letter ran: 
 
 "Dear Adam: 
 
 "I have told Stella I am called away unexpectedly, 
 and that your cousin was to take my place. She was 
 rather upset at first, but no harm is done, and happily 
 she seems to like Miss Mitchen. I think if she is not 
 left alone she will be all right, but she must not be 
 allowed to get depressed. I hope in spite of every- 
 thing you will let me know how matters go off, and 
 when your child is born, do not forget that what I 
 told you as to Stella being frightened of you is per- 
 fectly true, but that it is only a passing state of mind 
 which will vanish in the better days to come, only it 
 must be encountered now, and given no shadow to 
 feed on. Remember, you can be rather frightening. 
 
 "Yours ever, FELICITY." 
 
 That was all. No regret, no appeal for help, or 
 demand on his forbearance. Above all, no demand for 
 his silence. In a way that might have set him free 
 to say what he would to Bessington, but Felicity had 
 rightly gauged him. He would never give her away. 
 The very fact of her silence on the subject would be 
 more binding to his honour. 
 
 Bessington and Veronica must find out for them- 
 selves, unless she told them. After all, they knew slie
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 225 
 
 was unwell ! The most Adam could do was to impress 
 on them the need of a doctor when he saw them. He 
 would certainly do that. 
 
 He was again resentful of her solicitude for Stella, 
 and her warnings. It was preposterous to make out 
 that Stella feared him. He had never been anything 
 but kind and considerate to his wife. She had not 
 very much moral fibre, he knew, that was due to her 
 upbringing but on the whole he was inclined to think 
 it was better for a woman to be rather weak, so one 
 knew it necessary to take care, than like Madre, whom 
 no one could have suspected of weakness! 
 
 It required rather an effort to go in and see Stella. 
 
 She had obviously been crying, which made him 
 angry, but she was also making excellent efforts to be 
 cheerful. She insisted on pouring out tea herself, 
 and it was she who attacked the news. 
 
 "Isn't it a nuisance Madre having to go ? Just when 
 I had got used to her. I hope Jane will be amusing." 
 
 "Where did Madre go to?" 
 
 "Hampstead, I suppose. I've seen ever such a nice 
 house in Country Life, Adam." 
 
 She was not at all desirous of lingering over the sub- 
 ject of Madre, to Adam's great relief. Her interest 
 was far more absorbed in the probable purchase of a 
 country cottage, and she spent much time over agents' 
 catalogues and Country Life. Adam flung himself 
 into the subject with a zest that had hitherto been 
 wanting. 
 
 IV 
 
 Stella went to bed early extremely tired out, but full 
 of self-approval for her own sustaining of the part 
 Felicity had left her to play. Adam really did not 
 suspect her in the least, there was no reason why he 
 should ever know, because she really meant to leave
 
 226 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 off the dangerous habit. Felicity had at last impressed 
 on her the salient point, that at this point of the pro- 
 ceedings she was really endangering her own life as 
 well as her child's if she fell under the old habit again 
 and she would not be able to depend on Jane Mitchen 
 standing between her and Adam as Felicity had done. 
 She did not in the least want to endanger her own life, 
 and she had convinced herself that Adam would be 
 quite ready to kill her or shut her up as a mad woman 
 if he knew. She was very sorry for herself, and quite 
 certain it was a case for pity rather than blame. She 
 had been ill and miserable again, and sought refuge in 
 the easy solace of those dreams, but that was a for- 
 bidden thought. 
 
 She was very grateful to Felicity. Any one would 
 be; still it was just a little relief to be rid of her kind, 
 if strict, care. Stella had suspected that Felicity did 
 not quite trust her and felt the least bit aggrieved by it. 
 
 Jane Mitchen was quite different. She had thor- 
 oughly entered into the romance of Stella's wedding, 
 and saw things from a really nice point of view, and 
 she knew nothing of that little step back. Stella was, 
 in fact, a little tired of being too well understood. 
 
 After all it was very stupid of Adam to think Madre 
 would ever need to take morphia. She was far too 
 ordinary and cheerful a person to even feel the temp- 
 tation. She almost doubted indeed if Madre had a 
 temperament at all, but Adam never understood those 
 things. On the whole, it was just as well he was the 
 least bit stupid! 
 
 "I'm rather surprised Mrs. Crofton has not been to 
 see you or written," remarked Cousin Jane, indus- 
 triously knitting a white shawl. "I thought you were 
 such friends. At least I know Adam used to be, but
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 227 
 
 he seemed quite annoyed when I mentioned her at 
 dinner." 
 
 "Adam doesn't care for her as much as he used to, 
 I think. Men are changeable." 
 
 "Adam never used to be." 
 
 "Well, perhaps he thinks he has reason," returned 
 Stella rather irritably. The subject of Mrs. Crofton 
 was distasteful, but Cousin Jane never seemed aware 
 of the fact, and returned to it again and again with 
 provoking persistence. 
 
 "I had quite understood she was to stay with you 
 all through." 
 
 "Well, she couldn't." Stella would have liked to 
 stop her ears or scream. 
 
 "I suppose she is with the Bessingtons ?" 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 "We might drive up and call on them one day." 
 
 "I should detest driving so far, Jane. Will you 
 'phone to the library and ask if they have got that 
 book yet?" 
 
 Two days later Jane Mitchen was again face to 
 face with the subject which seriously interested her. 
 Adam's few relations were of the feminine gender and 
 they all shared a common interest over Adam's friend- 
 ship with Mrs. Crofton. It was regarded with grati- 
 tude or dislike, according to the extent of their re- 
 spective knowledge of that lady. Jane Mitchen had 
 never met her, and had always been profoundly jeal- 
 ous of her. She was a well-meaning, kindly woman, 
 with a strong ungratified maternal instinct, and she 
 had always considered that if any one was to "mother" 
 Adam, the matter should have been left to her, and 
 not usurped by far too young a woman with a mar- 
 riageable daughter. In her rather drab existence 
 Felicity Crofton figured as too brightly coloured for 
 general use. It would be far too strong a statement 
 to say she was antagonistic to her, but her interest in
 
 228 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 Mrs. Crofton was always tinged with disapproval. 
 It would, however, be almost fair to say she would 
 have been less interested if her disapproval had been 
 less strong. 
 
 Though incapable of occupying her mind with big 
 matters Jane could and did bestow concentrated atten- 
 tion on small occurrences, and the question of Mrs. 
 Crof ton's sudden desertion of Stella really occupied her 
 mind. She knew it was sudden, from something the 
 housemaid had let drop. People had a habit of letting 
 drop varied items of news in Jane's presence, which 
 she with great industry, swept up and sorted out for 
 future use. Besides, Adam had been so curious about 
 it. He had spoken quite shortly when she had men- 
 tioned Mrs. Crofton. 
 
 Then in Baker Street one evening about six o'clock 
 she had met Mrs. Chancely and Mrs. Chancely had 
 stopped her carriage and talked to Jane. She had been 
 to call on the Bessingtons, and had found the house in 
 the charge of a caretaker. 
 
 "They had all gone abroad," said Mrs. Chancely; 
 "at least I gather the baby is with Patricia Masters." 
 
 "And Mrs. Crofton has gone with them?" 
 
 "No, I am sure not, because the caretaker, it's old 
 Ellen, asked me if I knew where Mrs. Crofton was, 
 as she had letters for her waiting to forward. Of 
 course I couldn't say, but since I came away I remem- 
 bered that she was with your cousins the Prestons." 
 
 "Oh, no, I'm staying with them. Mrs. Crofton has 
 gone." 
 
 "That's odd ; still I've no doubt Ellen will find out. 
 Perhaps she has joined them after all." 
 
 Kind Mrs. Chancely drove off, leaving Jane Mitchen 
 standing on the pavement with a little flutter of excite- 
 ment in her breast. This was an item worth picking 
 up. She carried it carefully home, and only displayed 
 it to Stella after dinner. Adam was away that night
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 229 
 
 and Stella rather more restless and exacting than usual. 
 Cross at Adam's absence, at the stupidity of libraries, 
 and most of all upset by an injudicious letter from 
 her mother. 
 
 "You are not amusing me to-night," she complained 
 when dinner was over. Jane appeared to wake up 
 suddenly. 
 
 "My dear, I am so sorry, but I was thinking over 
 something I heard to-day. I daresay it's nothing, but 
 still it was funny. I'll tell you." 
 
 The funniness of it appealed only to Miss Mitchen 
 apparently, for Stella frowned. She spoke abruptly, 
 following her own line of thoughts rather than her 
 companion's. 
 
 "Perhaps she's never told them she's left us." 
 
 "But it would be so unnatural," exclaimed Miss 
 Mitchen, quivering a little with interest. "Why should 
 she not tell them ?" 
 
 "I don't know," answered Stella, with an impatient 
 shrug of her shoulders. "After all, why should she?" 
 
 "Her own daughter! I am sure, my dear, no one 
 can call me curious, but really this does sound odd, 
 and I am interested because Mrs. Crofton was such a 
 great friend of Adam's, whatever you may say." 
 
 "I never said she wasn't once. But Adam has 
 got some silly idea into his head about her, and he's 
 angry." 
 
 She got up and began a restless walk up and down 
 the room. She was beginning to feel annoyed with 
 Felicity for deserting her. She decided to-night that 
 Madre was a more intelligent companion than Jane, 
 and she was irritated with Jane for hanging upon a 
 subject that she wanted to forget. She would go on 
 harping on it, Stella was sure of that, unless she was 
 stopped once for all. Adam should have told her; it 
 was like him to leave it to her. She was the person 
 who suffered most from Felicity's absence, and yet she
 
 230 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 must find the means to stop Jane's maddening sur- 
 mises. 
 
 "My dear. Ideas! But what sort of ideas? How 
 strange !" 
 
 Stella flashed round on her, driven to a corner at 
 last. Her eyes were a little wild and excited. She 
 talked, but neither her mind or her outward attention 
 was given to her words. She was talking like a woman 
 in a dream, irresponsible and vaguely conscious of it. 
 
 "He thinks she takes drugs, which is of course 
 absurd. Why should she? She's not unhappy or that 
 sort of person. She doesn't feel things deeply, she's 
 too cheerful, but when Adam gets an idea into his 
 head, he's awful. He can't be turned from it. He just 
 insisted she should go and never thought about me at 
 all and and, Jane, I feel so queer, I'm frightened. 
 I wish Adam would come home. Do telephone for 
 him!" 
 
 Jane, who was after all a practical woman, tele- 
 phoned for a doctor and nurse, and that amazing glean- 
 ing was put aside for many days. The next day 
 Stella's child was born. It was a boy and healthy and 
 strong enough to satisfy even Adam, but Stella was 
 ill, very ill, and all day long messages came and went. 
 The crucial hour in Adam and Stella's existence surged 
 up into bare prominence a detached point of time in a 
 misty sea of uncounted days. 
 
 Adam, sitting by his son's cradle, began to reckon 
 in his mind the worth of this thing that he had done, 
 and found it of even bigger importance than he had 
 imagined. 
 
 VI 
 
 About ten days after Stella's child was born, Jane 
 Mitchen took her daily exercise in the Park with a 
 mind slightly more at rest than it had been, Stella
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 231 
 
 was at least no worse, she was even a shade nearer 
 the haven of "Better." Jane had got through her daily 
 task of letters and wires and telephone news, paid her 
 necessary visit to Mrs. Forrester (installed in the lodg- 
 ings near by), and really fatigued with the strain 
 of the passing days and her own share of routine 
 work was little inclined to trudge round the Park in 
 search of the needful air and exercise the nurse con- 
 sidered essential. 
 
 It was gratifying to feel she had been of real use, 
 and that Adam would have got on badly without her, 
 but it was most certainly a strain, and there were 
 moments when she thought Mrs. Crofton had been 
 fortunate in escaping all the trouble. It was a great 
 pity she could not come back now and take her turn, 
 for really Jane felt her own affairs would shortly need 
 attention. She unpacked that very curious item of 
 news that Stella had revealed on that fateful evening 
 and thought it over. As she did so a Mrs. Dixon 
 passed her, driving in solitary state, and suggested a 
 drive. Jane was only too thankful and Mrs. Dixon be- 
 ing for the moment bored and having no other com- 
 panion was thankful too. She was delighted to hear 
 all she could about the Prestons, and Jane had plenty 
 to say. 
 
 "It was fortunate for them you were there," re- 
 marked Mrs. Dixon, having heard a sufficient amount 
 of news, "but I quite understood that Felicity Crofton 
 was to see them through." 
 
 "So she was, and of course being a married woman 
 it would have been much more suitable than myself, 
 but Adam entreated me to come" (commanded would 
 have been a better world.) "I did not like to refuse. 
 Mrs. Crofton, you see," she hesitated, either because 
 it was more effective or because she had some dim 
 sense of responsibility "Mrs. Crofton was not well, 
 I think."
 
 232 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Ah, so I heard," returned Mrs. Dixon. "Every 
 one's saying she is not well, but no one knows what's 
 the matter, I dare say. Say she's just getting old like 
 the rest of us. But perhaps you have really heard?" 
 
 "What I heard was probably quite a mistake," Jane 
 dropped her voice quite perceptibly. "Indeed it's so 
 preposterous that it will be good to hear you contra- 
 dict it. There seems to have been some idea of 
 drugs." 
 
 Mrs. Dixon contradicted it promptly, that is to say 
 she emphatically said, "Good Heavens! I can't be- 
 lieve that it's possible," which was of course a con- 
 tradiction, and Jane looked relieved. 
 
 "That's what I think, it's just impossible, not at all 
 likely, I am sure. Stella or Adam are quite mistaken, 
 I shall always say so. I don't know Mrs. Crofton per- 
 sonally, though I've heard so much of her. She always 
 sounds as if she were an unusual kind of woman, but 
 that's all. But drugs! Oh, no, it's out of the ques- 
 tion. Of course she has been seedy for a long time. 
 So wrong of Adam, but I have always said, it's hard 
 to get an idea into his head, but once there it sticks 
 and it is equally hard to get it out again." 
 
 "Did he send her away?" 
 
 "I really know nothing," said Jane hurriedly and a 
 little frightened. "I only mentioned it to you to have 
 your contradiction to it. It's not a thing to repeat, 
 of course, but I was sure you would think as I do. 
 Look, there's the mounted police. Perhaps the Queen 
 is coming by." 
 
 Mrs. Dixon eventually dropped Cousin Jane at 
 Marble Arch, and as she crossed the road Jane said 
 to herself : 
 
 "I feel much easier in my mind to find she thinks 
 as I do. No, it's not a thing to talk about, even if it's 
 untrue. The Merediths and Maughens would never be 
 letting their girls go abroad with her if it were true.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 233 
 
 I detest a tattler, but really Stella looked so odd that 
 I wanted my own ideas confirmed/' 
 
 Unfortunately she had sought the confirmation of 
 the most notorious tattler in her circle, though to do 
 her justice she was not aware of this.
 
 234 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 "Is This Too Hard a Thing That I Ask 
 of My Friend? That He Should Believe in 
 Me Through Good and III Report?" 
 
 "You should have given us a little warning, Felicity, 
 and then the house could have been properly ready." 
 
 Felicity readjusted a curtain restlessly. She was 
 restless. She moved to and fro between the rooms, 
 not in her old business-like way, leaving order behind 
 her, but idly, beginning jobs and not finishing them, 
 opening drawers and closing them. Then turning to 
 the garden, she gazed at its rather tangled loveliness 
 with unseeing eyes. 
 
 Alexander sat watching her now with growing un- 
 easiness. Something was surely wrong, yet she had 
 assured him all was well with Veronica and the family. 
 
 "I did not know I was coming till this morning." 
 
 She spoke absently and her vagueness irritated him. 
 He had had a trying day and Felicity's evasiveness on 
 the top of it got on his nerves. 
 
 "We should not expect more than a telegram," he 
 began. 
 
 "There is no office and I forgot once I was in the 
 train." 
 
 "No office !" he gasped. He was still under the im- 
 pression she had come from London. 
 
 "Not nearer than Penard and I got a train there."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 235 
 
 "I thought you were in London." 
 
 She still made no answer, but sat staring out of 
 window. He was at last struck by the fact that she 
 looked extremely tired. 
 
 "I thought you were with Adam." 
 
 She flashed round on him. 
 
 "I was not. I have left Adam, or rather, Adam 
 would not have me there. He thinks I take have 
 taken to drugs!" 
 
 "Felicity, are you quite mad!" 
 
 "Not so mad as that to imagine that." 
 
 She looked him fixedly in the face now, with un- 
 swerving eyes and he could see she was speaking with 
 an effort. 
 
 "He found a syringe and some morphine. I told 
 him it was mine and he -said in that case I couldn't 
 look after Stella any longer." 
 
 "But was it yours?" 
 
 Alexander stared at her in complete bewilderment. 
 For the moment he really did not believe that she knew 
 what she was saying. 
 
 Still her voice was firm and her restlessness had 
 ceased. She just stood there quietly looking at him, 
 waiting apparently for some answer to her amazing 
 statement. 
 
 "But was it yours ?" he repeated, still bewildered and 
 hardly able to see where question or answer would 
 lead him. 
 
 "My name was on the packet!" 
 
 "But you don't take morphine?" 
 
 He said it slowly, incredulously, but questioningly. 
 
 She had been living on a strong hope, almost a cer- 
 tainty of hearing him break out quickly into anger 
 at the incredible thing, and instead he questioned her ! 
 She shrunk back a little, not from him but from a 
 sudden chill that gripped her heart. 
 
 "The Maughens and the Merediths heard it and be.-
 
 236 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 lieve it and they won't let their girls go to Bavano 
 with me!" 
 
 She would give him no help at all. If he could not 
 give her instant and unswerving faith, he could give 
 her nothing. It was the only thing that could help her 
 at this pass. But on the face of her bare statements he 
 could not give it her. His judicial mind was summing 
 up the facts of the case, rapidly, unhesitatingly, even 
 against his own wishes. 
 
 "But who told them?" 
 
 "I don't know. Not Adam !" 
 
 That flashed from her in fierce defiance of coming 
 criticism. 
 
 "Why do you take it?" 
 
 She caught her breath sharply. It had been a mis- 
 take then, coming here ! She felt trapped and betrayed, 
 and saw that she would need her wits about her to hold 
 her own and her promise. 
 
 "Are you ill, Felicity?" 
 
 His voice was urgent and pleading, but behind it 
 her sensitive ear caught the note of impatient amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 "No, no, I am not ill!" 
 
 The words burst from her with passionate protest. 
 She still would not take refuge behind that cover. It 
 lay too near the door of truth. 
 
 "Then for heaven's sake explain yourself!" 
 
 "What is there to explain? I have told you what 
 has happened." 
 
 "Not why you take it." 
 
 She looked out of window again and her face be- 
 came set and firm. 
 
 "I have no explanations whatever to offer." 
 
 He got up and began walking up and down the 
 room. 
 
 "I can make nothing of this. There should be 
 nothing to explain."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 237 
 
 "The Maughens think there is." 
 
 "Then of course they are justified in not sending 
 their girls with you. Older people might afford to dis- 
 regard the thing, but one doesn't put one's children in 
 care of a morphia taker." 
 
 Thus in his hot blind way he struck at her, or rather 
 struck at something which he would not recognise as 
 part of her. He was wrung with an intolerable 
 sense of wrong that she, the well beloved, should so 
 fail his thought of her. 
 
 "If I stayed here you would not want your boys to 
 visit me?" 
 
 She asked it quietly, watching him with strange> 
 detached interest. 
 
 "I should want to be sure " 
 
 "Sure that I had given it up?" 
 
 She interrupted him with bitterness in her voice. 
 It was a new note for her, but he did not heed it; he 
 was quite vainly trying to get command of his own 
 anger. 
 
 "In any case it could not be the same again for 
 them." 
 
 She put out her hand as if to thrust the sentence 
 from her and desisted. 
 
 "I am rather tired, Alexander. Will you go now ?" 
 
 "You must have some one here. You can't stop 
 alone." 
 
 "I have Mary." 
 
 "I mean a friend." 
 
 "Have I any?" 
 
 This time the bitterness got home to him so that 
 he was startled back into his ordinary kind self again. 
 
 "You are overtired, Felicity." 
 
 "Yes. Please go, Alexander." 
 
 He still hesitated, but could find nothing to say short 
 of unsaying all that had passed, and he was not yet 
 ready to do that.
 
 238 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 He went at last, reluctantly saying he would see 
 her in the morning when they would both be better 
 suited to talk things over. Felicity neither agreed 
 nor disagreed. She did not rise to see him off, but 
 sat still in her chair, listening till his footsteps died 
 away, then for a short time other things died away too, 
 as she had known they would do and the bell was the 
 far side of the fireplace. 
 
 Mary found her still sitting there presently, very 
 cold, very silent, and on order brought her hot tea, hot 
 bottles, and a little tube of tablets from her dressing 
 bag. 
 
 ii 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Fraser went back to his house, troub- 
 led to the depths of his soul and puzzled beyond rea- 
 son. The thing was so incomprehensible, even more 
 so now he had time to consider it. 
 
 He kept thinking he was in some foolish dream, or 
 that Felicity herself had made some fantastic mis- 
 take. If she had told her tale in any other manner, 
 even if she had come in any other manner than that 
 sudden descent on a shut-up house (and the gardener's 
 wife with a washing day on hand) he would have 
 scoffed at her story or even violently disbelieved it. 
 But there was something in her maner of telling that 
 left no room at the time for anything short of accept- 
 ance of the facts. She had flung them at him that 
 was the phrase he made for himself flung them at 
 him and left him to pick up his verdict as best he 
 could. In thinking it over her whole attitude aggrieved 
 him; for after all, once the facts were flung at him, 
 what could he do but accept them? If they had been 
 one shade more preposterous, if even they had framed 
 an accusation that Felicity had taken to drink, to shop 
 lifting, to gambling, he would have tossed them aside
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 239 
 
 and said she was playing an ill-timed joke on him. 
 But this matter of drugs was so insidious. He knew 
 what a widespread vice it had become, one so difficult 
 to prove or refute, and there was always that per- 
 sistent recollection of Felicity's languor and loss of 
 energy of late. Of course if she had not been well 
 that could be accounted for, but she had persisted she 
 was not ill. 
 
 Again, for Adam to have done that he must have 
 been very sure of his facts and if he had held his 
 tongue some one else must have discovered it. He 
 fought shy of this point. It hurt him strangely. 
 
 He began to wish he had not lost his temper with 
 her and to hope he had not said anything too out- 
 rageous. She had taken him to task more than once 
 for saying more than he meant to his boys. He tried 
 to remember just what he had said and failed. He 
 could as usual, only remember what he thought. To- 
 morrow anyhow he would talk to her differently. Per- 
 haps she would offer some more reasonable account. 
 
 That was his last resolution that night. But when 
 he went over to the Haven after breakfast the next 
 morning, he was told that Mrs. Crofton had gone away 
 by the early train and the place was to be shut up again. 
 Alexander Fraser went back to his work with a heavy 
 heart. 
 
 in 
 
 One morning Adam got a note from Bessington, 
 saying that he was coming to see him before he started 
 for Woolwich, that it was a very important matter, 
 and he would be glad if Adam would make a point 
 of waiting for him. 
 
 Stella was out of danger now, though still very ill, 
 and Adam had resumed the old routine of life. There 
 had been moments in the late hours of anxiety when
 
 2 4 o FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 he had felt very bitterly the loss of Madre, but he 
 had never thought of writing to her. As matters stood, 
 her presence would have done nothing to restore to 
 him the old confidence and reliability. He did not 
 brood over the matter, but he was conscious of a streak 
 of greyness in life and resented it; and the resentment 
 overshadowed his transitory feeling of pity for her. 
 
 The note from Bessington led him to more concrete 
 thinking on what had passed. 
 
 "I suppose they have learnt the truth," he thought 
 gloomily. "I can't see how I can help. It's a miser- 
 able business." 
 
 He thought it lucky that Stella had never asked for 
 Madre or even talked of her. He hated making ex- 
 cuse, and if Stella had pressed him would have been 
 hard put to to find them. When she was quite strong 
 he intended to tell her about it. It would be the safest 
 way. 
 
 He had not to wait long for Bessington, who turned 
 up at the time given and was shown straight into 
 Adam's den. 
 
 He lost no time coming to the point. 
 
 "First of all I want to know where Madre is, 
 Adam." 
 
 Adam looked and was amazed. He had heard noth- 
 ing of the doubts of his Cousin Jane as to Mrs. Crof- 
 ton's whereabouts. 
 
 "I thought she was with you. Her letters have all 
 been sent on to Hampstead." 
 
 "I know," returned Bessington drily, "but we have 
 been touring in Brittany for three weeks. We left on 
 the second of April and as we were moving about did 
 not expect letters. When we came back the day be- 
 fore yesterday the caretaker in great concern told us 
 she had lost Mrs. Crofton's address, which she had 
 sent her a postcard about ten days ago, saying her 
 letters were to be forwarded to an address which the
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 241 
 
 Woman can't remember and now she's lost the card 
 after forwarding only one lot." 
 
 "Bath ?" suggested Adam uneasily. 
 
 "She says no. It's old Ellen, and she knows most 
 of our addresses." 
 
 Adam looked steadily out of the window. He was 
 telling himself there was no need to be uneasy. 
 
 "When did she leave you?" demanded the other 
 shortly. 
 
 "On the fourth. I did not know you were away." 
 
 "Very well. Leave that a moment. Now listen. 
 I've something to tell you that you won't like hear- 
 ing. You can say what you like after, but hear me 
 out first." 
 
 Adam nodded. He never felt less like interrupting 
 a man. 
 
 "We came home yesterday morning, having slept 
 at Southampton. Veronica was rather disappointed at 
 not finding a letter from Madre. There were letters 
 forwarded for her from here, which puzzled us, and 
 Ellen's story puzzled us still more. Veronica 'phoned 
 down here and was answered by your cousin, I think, 
 but she could not hear very clearly, only it was some- 
 thing about Madre being out. We expected a mes- 
 sage from her all day, but none came. In the evening 
 we were dining at Lady Los ford's. We had come 
 home specially for that. After dinner Lady Los ford 
 took me aside and told me a most scandalous rumour 
 about Madre, which she said and said rightly must 
 be stopped at once. I am on my way to her solicitors 
 now, when I've seen you. The thing can't have gone 
 very far in the time, but it's done mischief already, 
 and if we can trace it back to the originator, we can 
 make him or her pay for it. You'll probably be quite 
 as angry as I am." He paused a moment, arrested 
 by something in Adam's immovable face. "The long 
 and short of it is, that some liar has started a report
 
 242 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 that Madre has taken to drugs ! Madre ! It would be 
 contemptible if it were not so mischievous, but the 
 Maughens, hearing of it, made some excuse to stop 
 their girls going out to Bavano with Madre and the 
 Merediths and Drakes hearing that did the same. 
 They all say it's preposterous but that's what they 
 do!" 
 
 He choked back his indignation with difficulty, and 
 stood waiting to hear a fine explosion of wrath from 
 Adam, but Adam sat still, staring rather sullenly at a 
 piece of blank paper before him. 
 
 "The climax of the thing is," continued Bessington 
 slowly, "that they say you sent her away from here 
 because of this!" 
 
 Surely the explosion would come now! But there 
 was no word at all. 
 
 "I am waiting to hear what you think." Besslng- 
 ton's voice was almost threatening. 
 
 "You can't take any steps, you can't go to a solici- 
 tor's," said Adam between clenched teeth, "because it's 
 all true. Madre does take drugs and I did send her 
 away from here because of Stella." 
 
 He got to his feet because Bessington was standing 
 with clenched hands and a face blazing with passion. 
 It struck Adam, through his dumb sense of misery, 
 that he had never known that Bessington had a temper. 
 
 "Wait a minute, Bessington," he said hurriedly. "I 
 found the things tablets and a syringe by chance, 
 and she came in, saw them in my hand, and claimed 1 
 them. I wouldn't have taken any one's word but her 
 own but there it was. They were hers, and she said 
 so. I didn't give them to her, I burnt them. I sent 
 for Jane Mitchen and she Madre went that night." 
 His voice kept its dead level but with an effort. "Since 
 then I haven't thought much about it or her. Perhaps 
 you don't know that Stella has been, and is, very ill 
 it's a miracle that she is alive and I have a son,"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 243 
 
 "I congratulate you. And having turned her out 
 without even knowing where she was going, you 
 spread this report?" 
 
 That fired him, and his anger blazed into flame 
 quicker than Bessington's. 
 
 "What do you take me for ? Because I had to pro- 
 tect my wife, do you think me a scoundrel? I might 
 have written to you about it, but I couldn't even do 
 that! It's all too sickening." 
 
 Bessington's face remained hard and unyielding. 
 
 "How many other people knew it?" 
 
 "None but she and I. She made some excuse to 
 Stella about going away. She hadn't been well. I 
 asked her if it were that and she said no." 
 
 "How do you suggest this lie got about?" 
 
 "It's not a lie," said Adam doggedly. "I wish to 
 God it were. I've told no one." 
 
 He met the other's furious eyes defiantly. 
 
 "You suggest she told it against herself." 
 
 "I suggest nothing." 
 
 "You have known her longer in your way than 
 I have," said Bessington with a cold steely quality in 
 his voice that checked for the moment Adam's surging 
 anger. "You can't help what you believe perhaps, but 
 I know Madre as you never could know her and I 
 know this is a lie and I should refuse to believe it even 
 if she told me it were true. I must see about finding 
 her now. I don't suppose that will interest you !" 
 
 He went towards the door, taking no notice of the 
 other's outstretched hand. 
 
 The harness of civilization pressed hard on both 
 of them for the moment. Even that might well have 
 been too frail to hold their passion in decent bounds 
 but for the presence of a sick woman in the house, 
 and the reputation of an absent woman that both loved 
 in their respected ways.
 
 2441 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 IV 
 
 Veronica was lying on the rug, pretending she was 
 a horse for Christopher's benefit. Christopher thought 
 she made a very good horse and called to his father 
 as he entered for further appreciation. 
 
 As soon as she could rid herself of her small son, 
 Veronica got to her knees to greet her husband and 
 pulled him down to that level to do so. 
 
 "You are back very early, sir," she said with sever- 
 ity, and then after a glance at his face she picked up 
 Christopher, rang the bell, and until nurse arrived 
 went on talking of nothing in particular. 
 
 While the traces of his toy-strewn progress upstairs 
 were being obliterated, Dominic continued standing by 
 the fireplace, watching Veronica. Her deliberate sense 
 of time values was always an amazement to him. She 
 was without doubt extremely anxious to learn what 
 had been the result of his morning mission, and why 
 he had returned so early, but she would have con- 
 sidered nothing gained by mingling that information 
 with her son's demands on her for rides and teddy 
 bears and engines. She had, indeed, an instinctive 
 dislike to mixing affairs, preferring to take life 
 as it were in a series of watertight compartments 
 and she liked to slip from one compartment to 
 another in an orderly way. She shut the door, 
 put a chair straight, and came back to her husband's 
 side. 
 
 "Now, please." Her voice was steady and cheerful, 
 but her eyes betrayed her. 
 
 He told her all that had passed between himself and 
 Adam. He had meant to tell her calmly and judicially, 
 but his anger broke in gusty bursts through his self- 
 control. 
 
 Veronica sat gazing into the fire.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 245 
 
 "I didn't think Adam was like that," she said in a 
 low voice. 
 
 "Like what?" 
 
 "That he would ever turn on a woman on Madre, 
 in particular, whatever he believed of her." 
 
 "That he should even believe it !" he choked back his 
 anger again. 
 
 She looked at him frowning. 
 
 "Why didn't Madre write and tell us?" 
 
 "Because she feared that we should be angry with 
 Adam and say something more than 'we never 
 thought he would be like that,' Veronica!" 
 
 He spoke hotly. He wanted to kindle greater heat 
 in her than this. 
 
 "Do you think that Madre is ill?" 
 
 "In what way ? In Adam's sense ? No ! Veronica, 
 how can you!" 
 
 "Can I what?" 
 
 She lifted her eyes and he saw at last the tears in 
 them and the trouble breaking through the veil, and 
 remembered how hard it was for her to express emo- 
 tion of any kind. 
 
 "Oh, you don't believe it!" she cried and her face 
 brightened. "Dominic, darling, you didn't say. How 
 could I know?" She was distressed beyond words, 
 and the tears, always so difficult to her, brimmed over. 
 
 Dominic sat by her and soothed her, and tried to 
 forget that she was believing in her mother because 
 he did. 
 
 "But where is she, and why doesn't she write?" she 
 said at length. 
 
 "I spent the morning after I left Preston, telephon- 
 ing and wiring. I've tried Bath. She's been there and 
 gone again. I've been to her lawyer and to Bassai 
 who is managing this Bavano business for her. I've 
 sent to the Maughens, confound them! I beg your 
 pardon, Veronica, but it's the mildest thing I can say!
 
 246 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 They say they have not heard from her since they 
 wrote saying that Alice and Millie were obliged to put 
 off their visit. Obliged ! And they had the effrontery 
 to add they did hope that Madre was not annoyed !" 
 
 He walked up and down restlessly in fierce impa- 
 tience. 
 
 "But you don't think there is any need to be 
 anxious?" demanded Veronica with startled eyes. 
 
 "Veronica, think yourself, for heaven's sake ! Where 
 do you suppose she would go if she didn't want us to 
 find her? Can't you know or feel?" 
 
 He put his hands on her shoulders and grasped her. 
 It had become a paramount necessity to him for the 
 moment to find in her some more intimate knowledge 
 of her mother, some keener perception of her possi- 
 ble moods than he could himself offer. 
 
 She put her hands on his arms and looked in his 
 face with pity. 
 
 "I think she would go to the sea or to some quiet 
 big place. She would want to be alone if she were 
 worried. She always did !" 
 
 "Was there never any one to stand by her and help !" 
 he groaned. 
 
 "I suppose not. I was never big enough." She was 
 still looking into his face with great gravity and he let 
 go his hold and drew her to him and kissed her. 
 
 "God forbid that you should ever be alone like that, 
 my darling!" 
 
 She smiled back. 
 
 "We have you now. You are big enough for us 
 both." 
 
 "But we haven't got her." 
 
 "Have you sent to Mrs. Croby?" 
 
 "No!" " 
 
 "Wire there. She liked that place, Dominic." 
 
 He went out to wire, oddly comforted. Veronica's 
 refusal to be moved to poignant anxiety had its ad-
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 247 
 
 vantages now that she had betrayed some insight into 
 her mother's possible movements. It was absurd of 
 him never to have thought of Staunton's Farm. He 
 sent off the wire and a prepaid form for answer and 
 went out with the intention of calling on Lady Los- 
 ford, but when he got to the door he recognised the 
 Merediths' carriage, waiting, whereupon he beat a re- 
 treat and went back to his rooms to wait for the an- 
 swer to his wire. 
 
 Veronica's instinct proved right. Mrs. Croby wired 
 back that Mrs. Crofton had been there for a week, 
 but had left without saying where she was going. 
 Dominic took the first available train and went down 
 to interview Mrs. Croby. She had little information 
 to give after all. 
 
 Mrs. Crofton had arrived without warning and 
 asked her to put her up for a few days. She had done 
 little but sit in the garden or on the shore. Mrs. Croby 
 had not thought her looking well, but she seemed so put 
 about at any suggestion of this, that Mrs. Croby had 
 forbore further comment. Then one morning she had 
 had a budget of letters, and on going in Mrs. Croby 
 had found her sitting at the table, staring before her, 
 evidently much upset. She said nothing, however, but 
 went and stayed out on the Downs and stayed there 
 all day, forgetful of meals. The next day she had 
 spent on the sofa and looked so ill that Mrs. Croby 
 had begged her see a doctor. She had refused and 
 two days later had left them. 
 
 "She said she was going to see her own doctor in 
 town, but she said it joking-like," finished Mrs. Croby 
 doubtfully. "She only wrote one letter while she was 
 here. That were to a doctor, though, for I remember 
 Dr. Mathew was the name on the envelope, 'cause of 
 it being same name as my old man. I give him the 
 letter to post and I says to him, 'Don't thee go and 
 take that to thyself, mind,' joking-like. That were the
 
 248 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 only letter Mrs. Crofton wrote while she were here, 
 far as I see." 
 
 Dominic went back to town still unsatisfied. He 
 knew of no Dr. Mathew. 
 
 It was Veronica again who came to his aid. 
 
 "Dr. Mathew is the Prestons' doctor. Adam can 
 find out that. I'll write and ask him, or rather 'phone." 
 
 He was much relieved. He was not sure that any 
 question he could bring himself to put to Adam would 
 be answered. 
 
 A note came from Adam in the evening to the effect 
 that he had seen Dr. Mathew, who owned he had had 
 a letter from Mrs. Crofton about a week ago, asking 
 how Mrs. Preston was. She said she did not like to 
 trouble Mr. Preston by writing, but would be grateful 
 for news. The doctor, who had felt personally ag- 
 grieved at the loss of so eminently suitable a com- 
 panion to his prospective patient, had replied at length 
 and by return to Mrs. Crofton at Staunton's farm. 
 
 The only other clue they got was in the shape of a 
 letter from Mr. Fraser and even that left them just 
 where they were as far as present knowledge of 
 Madre's movement went. It was the letter of a miser- 
 ably repentant man and it implored them to use every 
 means possible to trace Felicity and wire him her 
 address and it ended with these words : 
 
 "It's a terrible thing, Dominic, to fail a living soul 
 that turns to you for aid! If you can use me in your 
 search for her, it would be an act of real mercy for I 
 can never rest till I have assured her of my tardy 
 belief in her." 
 
 He wrote as reassuring a letter as he could to Mr. 
 Fraser, saying he had himself no fears for Madre's 
 physical safety, and that he thought they had better 
 wait a few days more before taking steps which she 
 might resent later on.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 249 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 'An Understanding Between Two." 
 
 A FEW days later business took Bessington to the 
 city and crossing St. Paul's Church Yard, he came 
 face to face with Felicity coming down the steps of 
 the Cathedral. 
 
 He could find nothing to say but "Well!" but he 
 kept firm hold of her hand for a moment as if to 
 make sure she was not again going to slip from 
 knowledge and sight. 
 
 She looked at him with her accustomed friendly 
 smile, but her eyes were oddly entreating. He could 
 have sworn she was calling her courage to her aid to 
 quell some hidden fear. 
 
 "I never imagined you came this way," she said 
 lamely. 
 
 "I never imagined you did either," he returned 
 gravely. 
 
 She looked up and down the crowded street nerv- 
 ously. 
 
 "I expect you are busy." 
 
 "Not so busy that I can not see you home." 
 
 He fancied she drew back, as if the fear had raised 
 its head again. 
 
 "You don't suppose that having found you I am 
 going to let you slip out of my sight again? I am 
 coming with you."
 
 250 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Very well come!" 
 
 He caught again the note of courage, defying some- 
 thing or some one! 
 
 "Perhaps you will come and lunch with me?" 
 
 It was so obviously an effort to say it, that he wanted 
 to refuse, but the necessity of holding her in knowledge 
 was too pressing. 
 
 "Yes, I'll come." 
 
 They turned and walked side by side along the 
 crowded pavement. There was a flower girl at the 
 corner where they took to the subway and Felicity 
 stopped and bought some flowers. 
 
 "We must anyhow have flowers," she said dreamily. 
 
 "Only flowers for lunch?" he questioned, just to 
 put things, to re-establish relations, on the best foot- 
 ing. 
 
 She looked at him with a little perplexed air. 
 
 "There is sure to be something in the house." 
 
 "Madre, dear, if I wasn't so horribly anxious to 
 learn where you are hiding yourself I should take you 
 off to the Savoy to celebrate our meeting." 
 
 "How is Veronica?" she asked, still with the air of 
 holding him off. 
 
 He satisfied her on that point and they went on 
 without speaking. Just when he was wondering 
 whether she had taken to living on the house-tops or 
 in a warehouse or underground they turned sharply 
 into a narrow alley, passed through an iron gate and 
 found themselves in a small square. It was sur- 
 rounded by respectable houses of austere aspect, and 
 they seemed mostly to be offices of respectable dignified 
 firms that had drawn themselves away from the hustle 
 and rush of modern business to this quiet haven where 
 they might, unmolested, work out their quiet days in 
 the sedate manner of their founders. Several windows 
 supported window boxes and made already a brave 
 show of early flowers. In the square itself lilacs were
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 251 
 
 putting on green leaves, fearless of the late frosts 
 which assailed more exposed regions. 
 
 The sudden quiet, after the noise of the street, 
 made their voices sound unnaturally loud. Bessington 
 felt his own personality to be something too vital and 
 too insistent for the self-effacement of this reticent 
 place. 
 
 "The curate of St. Ambrose and his wife live at the 
 corner house," said Felicity, doing the honours. "They 
 are both most kind, but I fear I shall disappoint them. 
 Mrs. Mears, with whom I lodge, is very kind, too. 
 She is a Christian Scientist. I think I disappoint her 
 too, but she is very cheerful, and good for one." 
 
 They crossed the corner and entered number 7. It 
 was a small house, and the ground floor was occupied, 
 according to evidence on the wire blinds, by Carey and 
 Sons, accountants. There were three windows and 
 two rooms on the first floor, and these had window 
 boxes newly planted. These were Felicity's rooms. 
 
 She kept him waiting in the passage while she went 
 to the head of the stairs leading to back regions to 
 interview Mrs. Mears. Then returning she took him 
 upstairs and into her own domain. 
 
 The room was panelled. It was sparsely furnished. 
 The two narrow windows had window seats in them. 
 There were a gate legged table, a book case, three 
 chairs, one of which was an easy chair. There was a 
 dim old painting of fruit on one wall, and on another 
 an autotype of Rossetti's Annunciation. An ojd mir- 
 ror hung over the mantel place and there was a faded 
 eastern carpet on the floor. A few personal belong- 
 ings in the shape of books and photographs and the 
 inventory of the room was complete. Bessington took 
 it all in swiftly. He knew she could not have been 
 here long and yet already the quiet bare room seemed 
 to have absorbed something of her personality, and 
 he was immensely glad to be there. He sat in a win-
 
 252 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 dow seat and watched her put her flowers into water. 
 Something seemed to him wrong enough to disturb 
 his content for a few moments, then he found out 
 that the wrongness lay in the fact that she had drawn 
 up a chair and sat down to do the flowers. She talked 
 of them and of the plentiful supply in the city that 
 season, and of the lilac bushes out in the Square, and 
 he listened patiently and answered in a like vein. Hav- 
 ing done her flowers she proceeded to lay the cloth, 
 whereupon he rose and put her gently back in the easy 
 chair. 
 
 "I shall not lunch with you unless I am allowed 
 to lay my own cloth," he insisted; "you must have 
 learnt from Veronica what an obstinate man I am, so 
 please don't argue." 
 
 She laughed and protested she was quite willing to 
 let him do it if he would desist when Mrs. Mears 
 arrived with lunch. 
 
 "She protests against my waiting on myself, and I 
 think she would be seriously hurt if my visitor did 
 so." 
 
 Bessington conceived a liking for Mrs. Mears. 
 
 Luncheon when it came was neatly served, and 
 Felicity made no apology for its simplicity. She also 
 made no attempt to face the inevitable questions that 
 must come, and Bessington respected her silence until 
 he saw she had eaten some share of the little meal; 
 then quietly putting aside an irrelevant remark he 
 said: 
 
 "Why did you not send us your address, Madre?" 
 
 She looked down, crumbling her bread. 
 
 "I I was going to send it." 
 
 "You did not even tell Mrs. Croby where you were 
 going. We were very much worried." 
 
 She raised her eyes and looked at him beseechingly, 
 but he was firm. He drew his chair nearer her and 
 took her hand,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 253 
 
 "Madre, you have been very unkind. What have 
 we done that you should treat us like this ? You have 
 every right to go off by yourself and refuse to see 
 us if you want to, but you have not the right to leave 
 us without the means of learning even your address." 
 
 "I wanted to think." 
 
 "Should we stop you ? Was it good for you think- 
 ing alone?" 
 
 She caught his hand in hers and held it firmly, and 
 so found courage. 
 
 "Dominic, it wasn't, and it isn't a question of what's 
 good for me. There are things I can't explain, and 
 can't talk about yet. I couldn't bear seeing you and 
 not speaking of them. I hoped I am hoping every 
 
 day, that it will be different, but until it is " she 
 
 stopped with a baffled air : what was the use of trying 
 to explain when she couldn't explain ! 
 
 He saw it must be plain speaking and rose to it. 
 
 "I have heard all sorts of foolish stupid things, 
 Madre. I went to headquarters to get them explained, 
 and heard a story I consider incredible and not worth 
 repeating. If you could explain it, we should be glad, 
 but if you can't we must be content to know there's a 
 brutal sort of mistake somewhere, and wait till you 
 choose to tell us more. Only you must not hide your- 
 self away like this, as if it all really meant something." 
 
 She got to her feet and looked at him oddly. 
 
 "You mean you don't believe it ?" Her voice shook. 
 
 He rose too. "Believe it? Oh, Madre! Of course 
 I don't understand, and if you will have it so, must 
 go on not understanding, but you don't think for a 
 moment I believe it! Oh, Madre, Madre!" 
 
 For she suddenly broke into a fit of weeping, and 
 he held her in his arms and felt there was relief in 
 her tears. Also he noted that her hair was indeed 
 streaked with grey, and that it was no trick of the 
 light.
 
 254 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Madre, couldn't you trust me?" 
 
 "There was no reason, Dominic. It was that partly 
 I couldn't bear to see you believe it! So I ran 
 away !" 
 
 She made a great effort and got back her self-com- 
 mand, and then stood clear of him and gave herself a 
 little shake. 
 
 "I've been making a fool of myself. Don't tell 
 Veronica, please, Dominic." 
 
 He would not tell Veronica, he assured her gravely. 
 
 "But I can't explain anything to you," she said sud- 
 denly, turning on him with that odd baffling look in 
 her eyes again. 
 
 "We can wait till you can. When are you going 
 abroad?" 
 
 Instantly she shrunk back as from a blow. 
 
 "I'm not going. I've given up the idea." 
 
 Not even to him could she own the deepness of the 
 hurt that had been dealt her, and he recognised this 
 and mercifully left it for the time being. 
 
 "Tell me how you came to this place." 
 
 "I knew Mrs. Mears years ago. She was a hos- 
 pital nurse. She got landed, poor woman, at some 
 little village in Switzerland where I was staying. She 
 and her friend had saved up for years for the trip, 
 and the friend got ill and died there, and Miss Boden 
 as she was then, was left alone with no one, know- 
 ing no French or German. I happened to be staying 
 at the hotel." 
 
 Bessington nodded. It was all typical of Felicity's 
 widespread meshes of friendship. 
 
 "She married Mr. Mears, who is a clerk in the 
 office downstairs, and she looks after the place and 
 lets these rooms. I have been to see her sometimes, 
 and then when, when I wanted time and quiet, I 
 thought of this place, and luckily the rooms were to let, 
 so I came."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 255 
 
 "And you propose staying here?" 
 
 She looked away. 
 
 "For a time," her voice flattened slightly. "I want 
 to be in London for a bit." 
 
 He made a note of this, but outwardly accepted it 
 as an ordinary thing. 
 
 "We should love you to come to Hampstead," he 
 suggested, though with little hope of getting her to 
 agree. 
 
 "Please don't ask me just yet. I will come and see 
 you 'and Veronica. And will you go now please, 
 Dominic? I am getting tired!" 
 
 The same words and same excuse she had used to 
 her brother, but this time she was not quite soon 
 enough. Her voice trailed off, and she lay back in her 
 chair with shut eyes and white face, breathing 
 strangely. 
 
 Dominic was for the moment quite terrified. For 
 all he knew Madre might be dying. He pealed the 
 bell, and then caught at a glass of water on the table 
 and tried to give it her. 
 
 Little Mrs. Mears came hurrying in. 
 
 She went straight to the windows and flung both 
 wide open, and then came back. She was quite col- 
 lected, and seemed in no way surprised, which did 
 much to restore Dominic's nerves. 
 
 "Another bad turn! Well, she hasn't had one for 
 three days, so I suppose one mustn't grumble," she 
 said, and while speaking she took a little bottle off 
 the mantelpiece and poured some drops into the glass 
 of water. She was so efficient and quick in her 
 movement, so entirely controlled, that the visitor, 
 watching her, was filled with gratitude. 
 
 "She will be all right directly," she said, looking 
 at Bessington with comforting assurance. "It's just a 
 bad habit, you know, she will get out of it !" 
 
 She nodded her head cheerfully, but Dominic, not-
 
 256 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 ing the blueness of Madre's lips, and the laborious 
 breathing, needed every bit of reassurance she could 
 offer. 
 
 In a far shorter time than he had hoped possible, 
 he and Madre were alone again. Her chair was drawn 
 up by the open window, she was tucked round with 
 rugs, evasive and apologetic as to her slight attack. 
 
 "I should have felt miserably ashamed if it had been 
 any one but you, Dominic," she said ; "but you won't 
 tell people I'm ill, or get fussy." 
 
 "Not if you promise me to see a doctor." 
 
 She began rubbing her finger up and down the arm 
 of the chair. 
 
 "I have been seeing one," she admitted slowly. 
 "For some time on and off!" 
 
 "And never told me?" 
 
 "It's nothing very serious. I have to be careful, 
 that's all. My heart's got a bit too big, or something 
 silly like that. Don't let's talk of it." 
 
 "What's your doctor's address?" 
 
 She told him reluctantly, and as he made a note of 
 it he looked at her steadily, with reproachful eyes 
 which she tried to evade. It was the name of a noted 
 heart specialist in Harley street. 
 
 She watched him write it down with a little smile. 
 
 "It's no use, you know, Dominic, unless I send him 
 word; you won't get any information out of him!" 
 
 "Then send it, Madre." 
 
 She sighed but gave in. He fetched her a card 
 and she wrote something on it and handed it him. 
 
 Then he turned to talking of Veronica, of Christo- 
 pher, and their late trip. She listened eagerly, but 
 when he attempted to talk of mutual friends and future 
 plans he noticed that she shrank back from it. He 
 had to leave at last, but he extracted a promise from 
 her that she would not again vanish from their ken 
 without warning, and leave no address. Veronica was
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 257 
 
 to come to see her the next day and bring Christopher. 
 At the very last, when he had his hand on the door, 
 she stopped him. 
 
 "You won't tell Veronica anything more than that I 
 am just taking things easy for a bit. It's only that, 
 really; my heart will get all right in time: it's not 
 worth bothering her about it." 
 
 He hesitated perceptibly, and she went on nervously 
 and naively: 
 
 "There are such a lot of people ill in the world, and 
 worried and bothered, and to me it's a dreadful 
 thought that I'm added to all that. I like to keep my 
 worries to myself." 
 
 He looked in her brave eyes and saw in a flash that 
 it was courage and not cowardice that urged her to 
 hide her mental and physical ills from the outside 
 world. He knew himself strong enough to respect 
 her desire, and he recognised her right, though he was 
 aflame with admiration and sorrow for her needs. 
 
 "We'll keep them to ourselves," he answered 
 gravely, and then left her. 
 
 Felicity, watching him from her window as he 
 crossed the Square, knew he was going to Harley 
 Street. 
 
 II 
 
 For the first time since she had received the 
 Merediths' letter, with its carefully worded "postpone- 
 ment of arrangements," Felicity felt it possible to re- 
 lax the strict hold she had kept on her thoughts, and 
 even to permit herself to make careful reckonings of 
 the future. 
 
 She knew that Stella was recovering. In a measur- 
 able distance of time she would be approachable, or 
 would herself remember their bargain and set her free. 
 It had all been quite clearly faced between them in that
 
 258 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 stormy interview. Stella had promised with frantic 
 sincerity to tell Adam directly she was strong again, 
 and meanwhile Felicity promised to keep silence; and 
 such was Felicity's trust in human nature that she ex- 
 tended it even to Stella's word. 
 
 But even when Adam knew, and she was free again 
 from the suspicion she found so intolerable, she felt 
 in her heart all would not be as before. The friends 
 she had trusted had accepted mere hearsay evidence 
 against her, and that had cut to the root of her being, 
 at the happy companionship, the friendships, the charm 
 of her comradeship with these young people in whom 
 her interests were knitted up. She could not easily 
 forget that they had believed it, not on circumstantial 
 evidence, like Adam, but on the credit of rumour. . . . 
 
 Who had set that rumour about ? 
 
 Adam knew, or thought he knew, and Stella knew 
 actually. It must lie between the two. Yet Stella, 
 knowing it to be a lie, could hardly have spread it 
 abroad, since there was danger to herself in such a 
 story. She did not and would not believe that Adam 
 had spoken of it. That he should have gone to the 
 Maughans, the Merediths, and Drakes and deliberately 
 warned them that she Felicity was no longer a safe 
 guardian for their children, was not possible. She told 
 herself so again and again. 
 
 It must have been Stella; and yet if it were so what 
 hope remained to her that Stella would abide by her 
 promise of confession later on? To that hope how- 
 ever Felicity clung persistently. 
 
 She did one other thing that afternoon of import. 
 She took out from their hiding place the letters she 
 had received from the three defaulting families. The 
 two first were polite and nervous in tone. The excuses 
 offered were a bit laboured but they were excuses a 
 decent veiling of doubt. The Drake letter, on the con- 
 trary, was quite different in tone. Mr. Drake was a,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 259 
 
 rabid teetotaler, and had already been in conflict with 
 Felicity on the score of no native wines for his daugh- 
 ter, in spite of her insistence that they were far safer 
 than the water of the neighbourhood. He wrote now 
 bluntly that he had heard something which made him 
 determine to cancel his daughter's promised visit to 
 Italy with Mrs. Crofton unless she could offer a reason 
 for the rumour; that he was willing to meet her and 
 hear any explanation, and if it were founded on fact 
 to give her the best assistance in his power; and that 
 if it were, as he hoped, unfounded, he would be thank- 
 ful to apologise. 
 
 Felicity had not answered this letter. She had only 
 sent a mere note of regret to the others ; but the hurt 
 had gone deep, and her instinct had been to conceal it 
 till she could face the world with a clean slate, or 
 with decent courage to veil her wound. 
 
 In those first cruel days, when she had sought refuge 
 at Staunton's Farm her one real fear had been of see- 
 ing Dominic and of reading in his eyes what she had 
 read in Adam's. If a comforting doubt of this surged 
 up in her, she was confronted with the alternative 
 of acknowledging that Adam had behaved badly, and 
 that Dominic's wrath would be directed against him. 
 Through everything she made piteous attempts to keep 
 hold of her belief that Adam had only acted in a 
 reasonable way. In those first days it had really only 
 seemed to her a question of waiting in retirement till 
 Stella should be ready to clear her in her husband's 
 eyes, and that no one else need be concerned. Then 
 had come these letters, which put a totally different 
 aspect on affairs. It no longer meant just waiting till 
 she could explain matters to Adam. Any explanation 
 would need long steps to overtake a rumour with so 
 great a start, it meant a readjustment of friendships 
 and values, of ways of living and future plans. More- 
 over, since Dominic and Veronica were now bound to
 
 260 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 hear of it, there was the dreadful position of facing 
 them with no defence possible. It was that which had 
 driven her to Bath in the hope that her brother would 
 prove a tower of refuge and he had failed her. 
 
 If he could offer nothing better than impatient 
 anger and credit to rumour, he who had known her 
 from birth, how could she expect better things at Dom- 
 inic's hands? 
 
 Before that thought she had fled to London and 
 to this retreat. Time, she felt, must be on her side. 
 The only way out, that had never occurred to her, 
 was to break her promise to Stella. 
 
 She had seen Dominic, and he, without explanation, 
 had refused to believe the ugly story. And Veronica 
 would in that case refuse to believe it too! But what 
 did he think, since he had heard Adam's version ? She 
 could not fathom that. He was good at getting to the 
 root of things. Suppose he made a guess? Would 
 he too hold silence? 
 
 There was quite a real danger that if he guessed 
 he would tell. Felicity decided that she must not see 
 too much of him or Veronica. But meanwhile the 
 world was a much better place to live in than she had 
 lately fancied, and since it was a mistake to keep in 
 touch with things that hurt, one by one she dropped 
 the letters into the fire. 
 
 in 
 
 Dominic saw the Harley Street doctor with diffi- 
 culty. Nothing short of the little message Felicity 
 had scribbled on the card would have conjured him 
 to so unprofessional a course as taking a third person 
 into his confidence respecting a patient. He, however, 
 summed up Dominic Bessington in two minutes, and 
 presently confessed he was not sorry that Mrs. Crofton
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 261 
 
 had at last taken his advice and confided in her family. 
 
 "That's just what she has not done," returned Bess- 
 ington drily! "I have come to you to learn what is 
 really wrong." 
 
 Shorn of technicalities the story he heard was that 
 Madre had heart trouble of a certain nature, that the 
 original enlargement had probably been caused by 
 some great physical strain, though he could never get 
 her to confess what she had done; that it was the sort 
 of mischief that might lie dormant for years and wake 
 at slight provocation; that she should avoid any phys- 
 ical fatigue or worry or mental strain of any kind. 
 
 "She has been taking care of an invalid lately, I 
 gather," said the doctor curtly; "that's very bad for 
 her. If she will do foolish things like that she will 
 suffer. If she will only be reasonable, there is no 
 reason why she shouldn't live as long as any one else. 
 Every one dies of heart failure in the end, you know, 
 however it's brought about; but much fewer people 
 die of heart disease than the public think. Mrs. Crof- 
 ton has a splendid constitution and if she is sensible 
 she will do all right." 
 
 "What do you mean by sensible?" 
 
 The doctor eyed him curiously. 
 
 "Lives a steady even life without big excitements 
 or too much exercise. Does not knock about the world 
 so much, or get so interested in other people's affairs. 
 In short if she becomes decently selfish." 
 
 "You think that a simple prescription?" Bessington 
 spoke bitterly. 
 
 "No, I think it nearly an impossible one for her. I 
 am only advising you how she can prolong her life, 
 humanly speaking, not how she can enjoy it." 
 
 "It's mere existing instead of living." 
 
 "Yes, to her." 
 
 "I think my mother-in-law would prefer to live." 
 
 "I have no doubt of it. She is that kind of woman.
 
 262 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 The question is, can we spare her type before we 
 need?" 
 
 Bessington flashed round on him. 
 
 "That is to enjoin selfishness on us all!" 
 
 "You think it amounts to that?" 
 
 "I am sure of it. But I shall do my best to see your 
 prescription is carried out." 
 
 "I am thankful to hear it. She is a difficult patient." 
 
 "You must not let her hear you call her that." 
 
 "There would be fewer of us living in Harley Street 
 if all the world thought as she does," the doctor re- 
 torted. 
 
 Bessington left him satisfied as to his suitability 
 as a doctor for Madre, but sick at heart at the news 
 he had gathered. It had been in his mind to ask the 
 doctor straight out if he had ever prescribed morphine 
 for Mrs. Crofton, but some loyalty to her locked his 
 lips. The secret, if secret there was, was hers; he 
 must be satisfied for the present. 
 
 In one thing he felt Madre was quite right. There 
 was no need to worry Veronica over it. He was quite 
 one with her in her idea of sparing Veronica possible 
 trouble. 
 
 IV 
 
 The weeks wore away. Spring merged into sum- 
 mer, and London flouted its brilliance in the face of 
 the sun, and faded away into a dreary desert of hot 
 bricks and airless regions. The Prestons took a house 
 at Camberley, for Adam passed his exam with decent 
 success. Here, in a large and well-cared- for garden 
 Stella and her baby made rapid progress towards the 
 very reasonable ideal that Adam entertained for them. 
 The child was not particularly strong, but there was 
 nothing wrong that science and care could not put 
 right, and Adam saw to it that both were given un~
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 263 
 
 sparingly. Except for one dark disquieting thought 
 he was extremely happy. He had climbed another 
 step on his ladder of success ; he had a son, and Stella 
 was fast forgetting that wayward "delicacy" that had 
 first invited his interest in her. 
 
 Stella indeed was changed materially by the birth 
 of her child. The instinct of possession rose rampant 
 in her. She adored her house (it was her first per- 
 sonal home), her baby and her husband. She pos- 
 sessed them all ! They were hers, as nothing had been 
 hers all her life. It was an expansion of her own per- 
 sonality, rather than an additional enlargement of ex- 
 istence, and in that expansion, her poorly developed 
 soul found room to breathe and sustenance for growth. 
 It was like a plant that had been repotted, rather than 
 the vigorous growth of untrammelled freedom ! still it 
 was growth, and the sense of happiness and security 
 gained ground. That strange fear of Adam was not 
 obliterated, but it was buried. She put away from her 
 with new found resolution all thoughts of those black 
 days in the rooms at Marble Arch. What had hap- 
 pened there never could or should happen here, in this 
 new world of good things. It had been but a mo- 
 mentary madness, produced by circumstances. It had 
 really nothing to do with her, Stella Preston, and it 
 might have happened to any woman. 
 
 These thoughts did occasionally filter through her 
 mind, but she turned from them as quickly as she 
 could. If in the dim recesses of her mind a quiet, grey 
 figure stood watching her and waiting, she averted 
 her eyes sharply. She was not going to face it yet I 
 Just at first the memory of her promise did trouble 
 her, but little by little she substituted for it the rea- 
 sonableness of getting "strong first." This was a 
 process that might take just so long as she chose, and 
 meanwhile, as Felicity never wrote and never came, 
 she chose to interpret her silence as consenting to this
 
 264 FELICITY CROF.TON 
 
 wait. She did not start out with the intention of re- 
 pudiating it entirely. 
 
 And she gave Adam what he wanted, or imagined he 
 wanted in life! He found no limitation in her aspect 
 of motherhood. Her beauty grew with her health, 
 and the passion and colour of her nature, set in sane 
 and beautiful surroundings, stirred unimagined emo- 
 tions hitherto locked in his soul, which would other- 
 wise have perished from inanition. So the days sped 
 on and to the one of them, the grey waiting figure 
 grew more indistinct, and to the other the grey mem- 
 ory was just one of the shadows, which life trails be- 
 hind whether we will or no, and which Time in turn 
 gathers up and folds away. 
 
 v 
 
 Through these long days and hot months, Felicity 
 still clung to her quiet square, and remote life. At 
 first, after Dominic's visit, she had to combat a new 
 access of restlessness, but once fought off, it did not 
 reoccur. In spite of Veronica's protests she stayed 
 there all the summer, declaring her rooms were cool 
 and quiet, and that she saw no reason for moving. 
 
 Veronica, in despair, faced Dominic with the prob- 
 lem one evening when she had spent the day with her 
 mother. 
 
 "She declared she will not move, and that the 
 thought of a train makes her tired! Oh, Dominic, 
 what can have happened to her!" 
 
 Veronica's face was tragic, and the look so ill fitted 
 it, that he was in haste to smooth it out. 
 
 "I can't see why she shouldn't be allowed to remain 
 quiet if she wants to. After all, Veronica, she has 
 travelled about three times as much as most people." 
 
 "But the City all the summer !"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 265 
 
 "Madre doesn't take her beliefs second hand. If 
 she found the City unbearable she would come away." 
 
 "I didn't think you would support her." 
 
 "I think she has a perfect right to do as she likes." 
 
 "To do even foolish things?" 
 
 "Why not? If it pleases her? Are children to 
 have the monopoly of foolishness? Madre's whim 
 doesn't hurt any one else. I mayn't think it wise but 
 I've no sort of right to prevent her indulging it if 
 she likes." 
 
 "You wouldn't let me be foolish, however much I 
 wanted to," she retorted with a smile twitching her 
 lips. 
 
 "No, that's quite different. You belong to me. 
 If you were foolish I should be involved." 
 
 "Egoist !" Then she saw he was laughing at her and 
 harped back to the original subject. 
 
 "But Madre doesn't look well." 
 
 "I've told you the doctor says the best thing she 
 can do is to be quiet." 
 
 Veronica gave a little sigh which was largely of 
 content: it was as usual comforting to feel Dominic 
 was not troubled over her mother's aberration. She 
 could now dismiss it from her mind with a good con- 
 science, and there were so many nice things to think 
 about. 
 
 Dominic watched her face clear with satisfaction. 
 How right Madre was! It was undoubtedly Veron- 
 ica's role in life to look happy. To see her face clouded 
 was like seeing the sun shrink behind a cloud. 
 
 They discussed their own postponed summer holi- 
 day. They had been going to Norway, but not only 
 was it too late for that, but Dominic had determined 
 that Madre must not be left alone for any indefinite 
 period. Veronica thought it a good time to put in a 
 plea for an alternative scheme on which she had really 
 set her heart.
 
 266 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 ''The Astons wrote this morning, and they want us 
 to go down to Harden Court. Patricia and the chil- 
 dren will be there too." 
 
 Bessington considered this awhile. He liked the 
 Astons and the Masters, and Harden was an ideal 
 place to visit, still it would be visiting and that meant 
 comparatively trammelled liberty. There was the one 
 advantage that he could run up to town when he liked 
 and look after Madre without leaving Veronica alone. 
 
 "Hrs. Aston asked Madre to come too. That's why 
 I went to her to-day, but she won't go, tiresome 
 thing!" 
 
 "Did she write to Hadre ?" 
 
 "She enclosed a note, as she hadn't her address. 
 Dominic, I do wish Hadre would leave people her 
 address." 
 
 "She'd have little peace if she did." 
 
 Veronica stood buttoning and unbuttoning his coat, 
 with a grave face again. 
 
 "Well, when you have quite finished wearing out 
 my buttonholes !" 
 
 "I am sure it sets people thinking all kinds of 
 things I met Mr. Maughen to-day. He asked after 
 Madre in such a curious way." 
 
 Dominic suddenly put his arms round her and held 
 her to him. 
 
 "Veronica, my dear," he said, a little huskily, "it's 
 one of the hardest things in the world to let other 
 people do what they want and not interfere. I want 
 you to trust Madre. I think she does know what 
 she's doing, even if we don't. Don't let's make it 
 harder for her." 
 
 "I think you do know, don't you?" 
 
 She spoke a little wistfully. 
 
 "Perhaps I am beginning to guess. We'll go to the 
 Astons, if you like, my dear."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 267 
 
 VI 
 
 Bessington used to go and see Felicity every other 
 evening. This became an established thing unless they 
 were dining out. He was late home in consequence, 
 but Veronica did not complain. Neither did she ask 
 questions. She was aware of some difficult and un- 
 happy situation that was beyond her to deal with. It 
 was best left in Dominic's hands. She visited her 
 mother often and carried into the quiet little room 
 the spice of gaiety and the small interests that had 
 ever constituted her chief intercourse with her mother. 
 Felicity loyally answered her. She laid not one item 
 of her own troubles on her child's shoulders, and she 
 undoubtedly found much relief and happiness in her 
 visits. Very occasionally she would come up to Hamp- 
 stead, but though she made no stipulations it was 
 understood there should be no one else there when she 
 came. Her refusal to meet her old friends worried 
 Bessington more than all else, and a few evenings 
 after his talk with Veronica, he telephoned to her that 
 he should not be back to dinner, dined at his club and 
 motored down to the deserted city afterwards. 
 
 The little square was getting accustomed to the sight 
 of his motor waiting there. Even the shut-up offices 
 seemed to blink at it through their closed windows in 
 a friendly fashion. It was a hot July night. There 
 were a few lamps lit in the square, but up in Felicity's 
 rooms they cast no light. Bessington found her lying 
 on a sofa by the open window, a lamp at her side 
 shaded out of all use. He came in quietly, thinking 
 he heard a response to his knock, but she had not 
 heard it and started perceptibly. 
 
 "I was thinking of you," she said, holding out her 
 hand and making no attempt to rise, or to apologise. 
 She had given up pretending for Dominic !
 
 268 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 After a few ordinary remarks he broached the sub- 
 ject he had come to speak about. 
 
 "Madre, why not go to Bath?" 
 
 She moved a little restlessly. If it had not been so 
 dark he would have seen sharp trouble in her averted 
 eyes. 
 
 "I am quite happy here, thank you." 
 
 "Yes, but for my own satisfaction, mayn't I know 
 why not?" 
 
 "I don't think Alexander would care about it." 
 
 "Madre!" 
 
 "You see he believes things !" she smiled faintly. 
 
 "I have heard from him. He is most horribly un- 
 happy that he should have hurt you." 
 
 "I am so sorry. I ought to have written. I can't 
 bear him to be unhappy when there's no need." 
 
 "He's unhappy because he allowed himself to be 
 deceived by you." 
 
 He spoke in a low tone; and she did not seem to 
 hear. She was gazing out of the window into the 
 dark sky, darker here than westward, where the even- 
 ing's work was barely begun. Here the city had al- 
 ready stretched herself to sleep. 
 
 "Fafner ought to read more novels, and go to more 
 theatres," continued Bessington in the same slow 
 voice. 
 
 "What ever for?" 
 
 "To sharpen his imagination. There's a play on 
 now, for example " He broke off to light a cig- 
 arette. He often told her of new plays and books; 
 she said she preferred it to reading reviews. 
 
 "It's a play called, 'The Baby of the Family.' It's 
 about a very spoilt young man adored by his family, 
 the world and his own wife. The latter is ill, and 
 he becomes bored and attempts to run away with the 
 wife of a friend. One of his brothers, a Sir Galahad 
 sort of man, called Leslie, finds him and the lady at
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 269 
 
 an inn, and sends him home to his wife and offers 
 to take the lady back to her husband. She is in a 
 bit of a rage with him, and on the way manages to 
 damage his car, and they get hung up in a village 
 late at night. The next morning the husband finds 
 them there and puts the usual construction on the 
 matter. To make it worse Sir Galahad is his 
 own particular friend. Then his beautiful wife 
 of whom one might think he might be thankful 
 to get rid chips in and has her revenge by declar- 
 ing that she and Leslie are devoted to each other, 
 and that she doesn't in the least wish to return to her 
 husband. What's the young man to do? He might 
 give the lady the lie, but it wouldn't be a very nice 
 position. He might give his young scoundrel of a 
 brother away, but his wife is dangerously ill, and he 
 Leslie, isn't married. So he shrugs his shoulders 
 and lets the lie be. The husband's all for divorcing 
 his wife, and the family think it his plain duty to 
 marry her, which he emphatically refuses to do. Of 
 course this makes him look a double-dyed scoundrel, 
 and every one straightway forgets his excellent repu- 
 tation and dubs him villain, and he has to put up with 
 that and a precious sight more. He just waits to see 
 if his brother's wife is going to get better and if his 
 brother will confess, but nothing happens. Which just 
 shows" he broke off meditatively "how careful one 
 should be about accepting evidence circumstantial that 
 doesn't dovetail into character. I've no doubt that 
 plenty of things do happen like that. Come and see 
 it one evening, Madre." 
 
 She did not answer at once, but presently asked 
 rather suddenly: 
 
 "What happens at the end?" 
 
 "Oh, the villain confesses, driven to it by the guile- 
 less face of his child. That's the weak part of the 
 play. In real life he wouldn't have confessed."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Oh, surely yes, when he had had time to consider !" 
 When she I mean when his wife was better." 
 
 "Not in real life, I fear," he repeated, looking hard 
 at the floor; "that is unless some one got at her." 
 
 He said the last word very softly, and barely moved, 
 so intent was he not to startle her into caution just yet. 
 
 "But if he had promised his brother to say nothing 
 he could do nothing but wait. Did he promise?" 
 
 "Yes. You think he was bound by that, even if he 
 had not quite seen where it was leading him?" 
 
 "Of course if his brother was relying on it." 
 
 "Suppose his brother never had confessed?" 
 
 "He'd get used to it. Live it down. There would 
 be sure to be some one who believed in him." 
 
 "There wasn't in the play. And one person's be- 
 lieving wouldn't make much difference." 
 
 "It would all the difference !" Her tone was heart- 
 felt. 
 
 "What seemed to hurt most was the way every 
 one was so ready to believe ill of him." 
 
 "Yes, it's strange, but a life's reputation will melt 
 before rumour." 
 
 "It was at least circumstantial rumour. I shall take 
 Fafner to see it." 
 
 "Why Fafner?" 
 
 "To quicken his imagination." Her eyes looked 
 doubtful, puzzled. Bessington still looked hard at the 
 floor. 
 
 "I don't understand." 
 
 "I do at last I think he might, too!" 
 
 "Understand what?" There was a note of anxiety 
 in her voice. 
 
 "What you are waiting for ?" 
 
 She sat upright, with a startled gasp. 
 
 "Dominic, turn up the light! I want to see you. 
 What have I said !" 
 
 Her distress was poignant, and he obeyed instantly.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 271 
 
 "Dominic, it isn't fair. You come when I am too 
 tired to be on my guard. What are you thinking ?" 
 
 "About you and Stella. What fools we have been. 
 Of course it's the only possible explanation. But you 
 haven't betrayed any one. It's been only to me. That 
 is the one way to reconcile facts." 
 
 But the pain and grief in her face were too much 
 for him. He fell on his knees by her side, and caught 
 her hands in his. 
 
 "Madre, dear, don't look so! It makes no differ- 
 ence! I am at your command. You don't think I'd 
 give you away or take advantage. I can't see why you 
 should do this, but you have every right if you wish!" 
 He broke off. He wanted passionately to deny that 
 right and to find some justification for action. 
 
 She turned her face against his sleeve and spoke 
 in a low voice. 
 
 "She was terribly afraid of Adam. I promised her 
 I wouldn't tell him till she was well and gave me leave. 
 You are right there. That is what I have been wait- 
 ing for. But if they are happy now, and she doesn't 
 want to tell, it's much best to leave things as they are. 
 I have been thinking this for some time." 
 
 "Best that she should be false to her promise and 
 you true to yours?" 
 
 He could not keep the fierceness out of his voice, 
 
 "It's only Adam that matters, after all. I should 
 have liked him to know ; but it might make things all 
 wrong again just when they are right. . That would 
 be such a pity. Don't you see, Dominic? But of 
 course you will see that as they are both young and 
 have everything before them, it's best left alone. I am 
 sure Stella will be all right now, and I am getting over 
 minding about Adam. And then you never believed 
 it. That's what frightened me at first. It's not worth 
 the trouble of explaining to any one else." 
 
 "I have no right to know," he groaned. "I leajnt
 
 272 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 it by trick almost. I came meaning to learn it. There 
 is a play like that, Madre, but it was taking a beastly 
 advantage of you so I can only do as you wish, though 
 it's not what I wish at all." 
 
 "But you will when you have had time to 
 think." 
 
 "No, I can't do that, but I can't all the same wish 
 you to act one shade less splendidly than your beau- 
 tiful self dictates." 
 
 "Now that's nonsense. Even in a play people do 
 the same. I have no option." 
 
 "Make Stella come and see you." 
 
 "Adam wouldn't let her. Leave me a bit of pride, 
 Dominic." 
 
 "What are you leaving yourself in life?" 
 
 "Lots of good things. Don't you see I can't go to 
 Stella and say I find it's too much for me Adam 
 thinking badly of me so she must own up and let 
 him think badly of her for a change? It's out of the 
 question." 
 
 "Yes for you, but she should be reminded." 
 
 "And she would say I had broken my promise. Be- 
 sides, Dominic, this is what you must consider: 
 What's the use? It would undo everything and alter 
 nothing. Even if Adam takes it well and isn't angry, 
 still it would spoil his happiness. No, don't take your 
 hand away, Dominic ; think with me. It would be the 
 worst thing in the world for any thing to come be- 
 tween them now. She would be unhappy again, and 
 she has had such a bad time all the years she ought 
 to have been most happy." 
 
 "Madre, I can't hold a brief for Stella Preston. 
 It's not in human nature. I'd willingly sacrifice her 
 whole happiness to give you a year of joy." 
 
 "But I could not have it like that."' 
 
 "I know, that's the sole reason why I give in. 
 You've got to be happy in your own way, even if it
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 273 
 
 means sacrificing yourself, and I've not the ghost of a 
 right to prevent you." 
 
 She sighed with relief. 
 
 "You make things feel so secure again." 
 
 He had to be content with that, that she felt "se- 
 cure" ! But his heart ached not for her generous soul, 
 but because he could not bring himself to believe her 
 sacrifice was well expended. 
 
 He knew the original rumour was dying down, 
 that what damage it could do was spent, but he also 
 knew that Felicity's little world of trust and friendship 
 was shattered, and above all, that she was robbed of 
 the son of her adoption. All that could be saved for 
 her, short of forcing her outside the strict limits of her 
 code of honour, must be done. 
 
 He asked if he might not tell her brother. 
 
 "I do not think Alexander would see it as you do," 
 she said slowly. "He would want to set things right 
 in his own way. I mean he would not like promis- 
 ing " she broke off. The issues seemed involved. 
 
 "I would not tell him just what had happened. Only 
 that there was a misunderstanding." 
 
 She winced at that, remembering how intolerably 
 that misunderstanding had hurt." 
 
 Still Bessington waited. 
 
 "Let things be as they are till the end of the sum- 
 mer," she pleaded. "It will make so little difference 
 now." 
 
 That cut him to the heart again, so that his own 
 faithfulness seemed but a small thing, since it had 
 carried conviction to no one but Veronica. He kissed 
 her hands again, and she lay back .very white and 
 tired, and then looked at him and smiled. 
 
 "I'm most ungrateful," she protested. "Really it 
 might have been much worse, you know and there 
 was you all the time." 
 
 "Little enough I've done!" he groaned bitterly.
 
 274 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "More than enough. Oh, Dominic, you can't think 
 what it means to have some one who believes in one !" 
 
 They sat silent awhile. 
 
 Presently she said : "I've been thinking" (but she 
 had only thought it those few moments) "that when 
 autumn comes I will go out to New Zealand for a 
 trip." 
 
 "Why New Zealand?" with an access of thankful- 
 ness that she should again be making plans. 
 
 "There's a woman here, a Mrs. Purley, one of Mr. 
 Seeler's flock, who has a son out there and simply longs 
 to go out to him every minute of the day. But she 
 hasn't the money, and she can't face the journey alone. 
 Now if I were going, I could look after her, or rather, 
 she could look after me, and feel she was some good ; 
 and New Zealand must be interesting." 
 
 He encouraged the idea merely for the sake of get- 
 ting her interested in the future. The old instinct of 
 service was irreducible in her. If it could not be given 
 to the young it must be given to the old. 
 
 All the way back to Hampstead his mind demanded 
 why they had not all guessed instantly what was the 
 real state of the case. It was so obvious once one had 
 the clue. 
 
 In thinking of Stella he nearly collided with another 
 car, saved himself indeed by a hair's breadth, and 
 thought no more kindly of Stella Preston for that. 
 Yet curiosity, rather than wrath, dominated his mind 
 with regard to her. He found strangeness in the fact 
 that while his anger with Adam was still red hot, for 
 Stella he felt a cold critical interest. He wanted to 
 pin her out and examine her mind as if she were some 
 new sort of insect he had not classified. 
 
 But Adam he had, and could classify, and because 
 his motives and acts were clear, and in some way 
 understandable, Bessington felt a right to anger. He 
 would almost have liked the task of interviewing Stella,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 275 
 
 but he could not have brought himself to meeting 
 Adam with any certainty of keeping the peace. 
 
 VII 
 
 When Bessington had gone, Felicity let her thoughts 
 roam where they would in the now unusual luxury of 
 freedom. A great peace and happiness wrapt her 
 round, so that for the moment it was to her not night 
 she looked at but a transcendent shimmering darkness 
 more beautiful than day. Dominic knew. He would 
 wonder no more, make no more surmises. The weak- 
 ening dread that hung over her was gone. The crown- 
 ing happiness was, that he accepted her ruling, and her 
 right to act in her own way. She had braced herself 
 for a struggle, and there had been practically none. 
 In her heart she had known that had he insisted other- 
 wise, had there been a struggle, he would have won. 
 She could not have stood out against his expressed 
 will. 
 
 Now because he not only knew, but understood, 
 the burden was halved. She did not mind in the least 
 what others thought or had thought. She could afford 
 to admit there was nothing else they could think, since 
 they were not Dominic ! 
 
 It did not occur to her to come out of her retreat, 
 however, or take up her old life again. Apart from 
 this heart trouble, which she still refused to consider 
 as permanent, there would be the necessity, if she re- 
 turned to her own world, of some day or other meeting 
 Adam, and she still could not face that calmly. She 
 dreaded reading again in his eyes the contempt and 
 disillusionment she had read there once. It was not 
 that she felt his judgment was biased, intolerant and 
 unsound, but that he was Adam, the boy to whom she 
 had given her mother's heart; and he had ceased to 
 believe in her.
 
 276 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 To restore that belief would be to shatter his pres- 
 ent and future happiness. A thing unthinkable? 
 Dominic must see that in time. She wondered she 
 had not seen it more clearly herself before this. If, 
 as she believed, maturity gave Stella the balance she 
 had wanted, there was really no fear of a relapse, 
 of that Felicity was sure, and on that she based all her 
 judgments. 
 
 Dominic was right in one thing, she admitted : 
 Stella would not confess. "She wasn't made that way," 
 was the excuse she made for her. She was not sure 
 it was not a fortunate thing for Adam. Then again 
 consideration even of Adam faded from her. All she 
 felt most keenly was centred in Dominic, and this won- 
 derful halving of trouble. She was glad glad beyond 
 measure that he knew ! She remembered there was a 
 time when she had hoped that Adam would marry 
 Veronica? So dim sighted are we even for those we 
 love? 
 
 Her brave soul voyaged to the stars, now shining 
 faintly in the summer sky, and there in those high 
 realms it faced possibilities, smiled bravely in their 
 faces, defied their power, and so returned to earth the 
 stronger and steadier for the flight. 
 
 "All the same I think I shall go to New Zealand," 
 said Felicity to herself.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 277 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 "The Feet of a True Friend are Swifter 
 Than Rumour," 
 
 STELLA sat in the garden under a clump of bamboos, 
 with her baby on her knees. The baby should have 
 been in the cot by her side. Nurse strongly disap- 
 proved of too much nursing; but Stella liked nursing 
 her son, and she had an instinctive feeling that Adam 
 liked seeing her hold him; and Adam would be back 
 in a few minutes. A new perambulator stood near, 
 and Stella was occupied with considerations of its 
 colour. Had she done well to choose grey? Would 
 not a dark colour have been more distinguished? 
 Adam was going to take her to some College Sports 
 that afternoon, and she had an exceedingly becoming 
 dress to wear. Also he had at last consented to her 
 attending the Staff College Ball at the end of the 
 month. All these were matters productive of content, 
 adding to the general pleasures of life. Then the 
 gate swung open and Adam came into the garden, and 
 that also added to life very considerably. 
 
 How nice he looked coming up the path, straight, 
 and well built and beautiful; tanned, though the tan 
 never spoilt the clearness of his complexion. There 
 were still old friends who called him Eve. Stella was 
 not sure that she approved, but she saw a point in it. 
 
 He came to her, kissed her, stroked his little son's 
 soft face, and sat down on the grass at her feet.
 
 278 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 She wanted very badly to stroke his hair, but ex- 
 perience had taught her wisdom and she refrained. 
 
 "I met poor old Felton this morning," he said pres- 
 ently. "His wife is dead, you know." 
 
 A faint shadow dimmed Stella's bright vista. Why 
 had he mentioned Mrs. Felton? 
 
 "It's a good thing for him, one would think, but 
 really he's awfully cut up." 
 
 "Well, I suppose he was fond of her." Stella's 
 voice was low and a little impatient. 
 
 "One would think she had killed all that long ago." 
 
 "Wouldn't you care for me any more if I " 
 
 He gave a quick angry gesture. 
 
 "Don't talk rot, Stella, or imagine disgusting 
 things." 
 
 His face clouded. The perfect sunshine of their 
 day was undoubtedly crossed with shadow now. 
 
 Somewhere in the depths of her memory, a promise, 
 an obligation, stirred uneasily. There was no occa- 
 sion to do anything, of course, but the pressure of the 
 memory and the slight harass pushed her on. 
 
 "But I should care for you, whatever happened," 
 she said, "and I want to feel you'd care for me too." 
 
 He moved uneasily, not caring for these discus- 
 sions. 
 
 "If you were like Mrs. Felton, you wouldn't be you, 
 so what's the use of talking like that?" 
 
 "I shouldn't be the same to you?" 
 
 "Well, should I be the same to you if I took to 
 house-breaking or wife-beating?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Rot, Stella! Stop it. I don't like it, old girl." 
 
 She stopped, but at the back of her mind there rested 
 a new conviction that her present happiness was less 
 secure than she had fancied. She would think of these 
 uncomfortable things no more. 
 
 But she was not allowed to put them aside so com-
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 279 
 
 pletely, nor to evade her obligations, without a better 
 understanding of what she was doing. In other 
 words, she was to be given her chance. 
 
 Almost the first person she and Adam encountered 
 as they entered the college grounds was Jim Streeter, 
 just home from the West Indies, brown, cheery, and 
 in splendid spirits. He had come up to see a brother 
 who bade fair to carry off honours at high jump. 
 
 Adam was delighted, and Stella at first was pleased 
 enough, though she rather resented his warm enquir- 
 ies for Mark. It was not until they were at tea, that 
 Streeter really disturbed her. Then he turned rather 
 abruptly to Adam and said : 
 
 "Where's Madre? We were staying with the Mere- 
 diths last week went there feeling sure she would be 
 there, but she wasn't. Beastly disappointment, and 
 what's more, none of them could give us her address. 
 I know she isn't travelling, because I met some one 
 who had seen her lately." 
 
 "The Bessingtons would give it to you." 
 
 Adam spoke in a quiet, level voice. 
 
 "How do they get on? Why on earth didn't Bes- 
 sington marry Madre?" 
 
 "She is years older than he is," put in Stella 
 sharply. 
 
 "No older than he is older than Veronica! Besides, 
 Madre will never be old. However, it's their affair." 
 
 He considered his tea cup gravely. Obviously, he 
 had something else on his mind, but whatever it was, 
 he desisted from saying it then, and allowed the sub- 
 ject to be changed. When the sports were over, they 
 walked back together, Adam having persuaded him to 
 come back to dinner with them. It was on the way 
 home that he again broached the subject of Madre. 
 
 "About Madre," he began. 
 
 Stella stopped a little angry protest with difficulty. 
 
 "What's that, a caterpillar, Mrs. Preston? Never
 
 280 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 mind, it's only taken refuge down your collar; you 
 wouldn't turn a harmless caterpillar out at this hour! 
 About Madre, Adam. What's wrong? Wilson says 
 he met her at a picture gallery, and she was awfully 
 depressed and would hardly talk to him or his sister, 
 and yesterday I ran down to see old Fafner and he 
 said he hadn't even got her address. Did you ever 
 hear such nonsense?" 
 
 "I haven't got it either," returned Adam stolidly. 
 
 Streeter stared at him blankly. 
 
 "Have you all quarrelled with Madre? Because 
 if you have, and are spoiling for a fight, I'm your 
 man!" He laughed in his whole-hearted way, and 
 then because there was no response, it dawned on his 
 thick head, that the subject was distasteful. He was 
 both puzzled and angry, and decided he'd go and see 
 the Bessingtons to-morrow and have it out with some 
 one. 
 
 Stella left the men soon after dinner, saying she was 
 tired. She could not, in point of fact, endure sitting 
 there waiting for Streeter to open the obnoxious sub- 
 ject again. 
 
 She went upstairs to her room but did not rest. Her 
 mind was busy thrusting back into its cage a memory 
 that she had kept severely prisoner all these days, but 
 it was a little difficult to set up the bars again. Of 
 course, if Madre no, she would not call her that 
 silly name if Mrs. Crofton wasn't well and didn't 
 want to go about, it really did not matter much what 
 people were foolish enough to think. She didn't be- 
 lieve that Adam cared so very much after all. He 
 hadn't answered Streeter as if he did; and, in any 
 case, Adam was happy as things were, and if she did 
 anything he wouldn't be happy. It was really a ques- 
 tion of having her, or Madre, and of course he would 
 rather have his wife. Do anything? What did it 
 mean exactly? What would she do? But of course
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 281 
 
 she wasn't going to do anything. She saw at once, 
 when she thought quietly, that it was not only impossi- 
 ble, but unwise. It was quite an impossible suggestion 
 that she should jeopardise their present happiness by 
 racking up old stories that would at least cause un- 
 pleasantness. It might have been another matter if 
 Mrs. Crofton had been related to Adam but she was 
 merely a friend, or had been, and Adam got on quite 
 well without her. If he had to choose between them, 
 he would naturally choose to keep his wife! That was 
 the end of the matter. 
 
 Adam came out of the door below and walked to 
 the garden gate with Streeter. She could see him in 
 the moonlight. How nice he looked but he had to 
 be kept nice. Stella made up her mind it was her 
 chief business to keep him so. 
 
 II 
 
 "I never feel it is quite nice of you all to go on as 
 usual when we are all exiles," remarked Mrs. Saun- 
 ders, half laughing, half wistfully. 
 
 "It looks a bearable exile," returned her friend, 
 just out from England on a visit. 
 
 Looking round the long low room with its essen- 
 tially English furniture, its ribbon bedecked cushions, 
 its photographs, its chintz-covered chairs, its many 
 indifferent little water colours and collections of all 
 sorts, it was difficult to imagine oneself more than 
 fifty miles from London at the most. Only up in 
 the ceiling the punka fans waved automatically, and 
 the windows were shaded and darkened in an un- 
 English way. 
 
 Afternoon tea was going on, though it was supple- 
 mented by iced drinks, and whiskies and sodas. Of 
 the two women and three women who occupied the
 
 282 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 room, three belonged to the house, and two, both 
 men, were visitors. One was Mark Forrester, and he 
 sat near his hostess, saying little, but listening with 
 interest to the news of "home" which a fresh arrival, 
 a Miss Chancely, was dealing out in a wholesale man- 
 ner. 
 
 "It's bearable, but it's not 'home.' " Mrs. Saunders 
 insisted. "Go on, Mabel, what did you do in the 
 spring? Did the Maughens have their usual 'spring 
 gathering' ?" 
 
 "Yes, more than ever, but it wasn't quite such fun 
 as usual; I don't know why." 
 
 "Who was there?" 
 
 Miss Chancely ran off a long list of names, and her 
 friends ticked them off with a little nod of recogni- 
 tion. "All the old set! Lucky creatures; but you've 
 forgotten Mrs. Crofton." 
 
 "She wasn't there." 
 
 "Not there?" Her voice was incredulous. "But a 
 party without her is unheard of." 
 
 Miss Chancely took some more bread and butter 
 and maintained a silence that, whatever it was intended 
 to convey, was not noncommittal. 
 
 "She isn't ill, is she?" demanded Mrs. Saunders 
 quickly, but she turned to Mark Forrester as she spoke 
 for an answer. 
 
 "I was just going to ask Miss Chancely that. I 
 have not heard from her for over three months." 
 
 Miss Chancely still devoted herself to her tea. "I 
 don't think she is ill exactly, she just wasn't there." 
 
 Neither of her listeners was to be diverted. Saun- 
 ders himself, the thin long-legged man who had been 
 talking to the doctor, was an old pupil of Mr. Fraser's, 
 and on hearing Mrs. Crofton's name, had come over 
 to the little group near the tea table. 
 
 "What's that you were saying? Anything wrong 
 with Mrs. Crofton?"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 283 
 
 Miss Chancely began to wish she had concealed her 
 knowledge of Mrs. Crofton's movements. She was 
 not an especial friend of hers, like these others, but 
 she liked her, and they all did more than like her. It 
 was an awkward situation ; still she had created it her- 
 self, and must face it. 
 
 "I don't really think there is anything the matter, 
 you know. Only, Mrs. Crofton hasn't been well, they 
 say, and isn't going about." 
 
 "The last time I heard of her she was going to 
 Italy, taking a villa, and proposed taking a party of 
 girls with her." This was from Mark Forrester. 
 
 "Yes well, she didn't go. They couldn't, or some- 
 thing." 
 
 Miss Chancely was obviously frightened. She had 
 sudden recollections that the Prestons were somehow 
 related to Mr. Forrester, of whom she felt rather in 
 awe, and it complicated matters. It was Mrs. Saunders 
 who saw as much and rather cleverly turned back 
 the talk to other subjects. Mark Forrester stayed 
 rather later than usual, and before he went, he man- 
 aged to find time for a private word with Mrs. Saun- 
 ders. 
 
 "You are a good sort, and you've done many kind 
 things for me. Do another," he said urgently. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Find out for me what's amiss with Madre." 
 
 "Mrs. Crofton?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Mrs. Saunders considered a moment and then gave 
 the promise. 
 
 Three days later she wrote and asked him to come 
 to tea again. This time he found her alone. Saunders 
 and Miss Chancely had gone out. 
 
 "I sent them out," she admitted frankly. "I found 
 out what you wanted to know, and you won't like it, 
 and I thought if you were going to get in a temper
 
 284 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 over it, you'd better do it alone. George has got over 
 his." 
 
 "You told him?" 
 
 "Of course. You are not the only person in the 
 world interested in Mrs. Crofton, my dear man! Now 
 sit quiet, and don't swear more than you can help. 
 George did. 
 
 "Miss Chancely says there is a story going round, 
 that while Mrs. Crofton was staying with Mrs. Pres- 
 ton, her husband, Adam Preston, found out that she 
 was taking drugs, and wouldn't let her stay there even, 
 and somehow the story got about. I believe he denies 
 mentioning it, but the Maughens and others heard of 
 it somehow, and wouldn't let their girls go out to 
 Italy with Mrs. Crofton, and she took it hardly, and 
 went away into the country, and though the Bessing- 
 tons have done all they can to deny it, still, there it is. 
 There are odd circumstances, and Mrs. Crofton can't 
 or won't, even write to her friends! You have not 
 heard from her yourself, you said!" 
 
 She tried to end in a light vein, and looked at him 
 with a rather pleading attempt to get him to see the 
 smallness of the affair, but her heart jumped at the 
 sight of his suddenly hardened face. 
 
 He got up and put down the cup he held, and looked 
 at his watch mechanically. 
 
 "You are not going yet?" she managed to say 
 with an admirable pretence that she had noticed 
 nothing. 
 
 "I must catch my chief when can I see Miss 
 Chancely?" 
 
 "She won't want to talk about it. She wishes 
 already she had never mentioned it." 
 
 "She must talk. I must have it as much first hand 
 as possible." 
 
 "You take it so seriously. After all, heaps of 
 women take drugs. It's not so awful,"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 285 
 
 "Isn't it? Have you ever met any one who did? 
 Any one you cared for?" 
 
 His voice was stern and bitter. She would much 
 rather he had sworn like George. 
 
 "No one I knew intimately, but still " 
 
 "Mrs. Crofton doesn't take drugs, anyhow," he 
 went on quietly, "and that's not the sort of thing to 
 be said about any woman when it's not true." 
 
 "My dear Mark, how can you know? You haven't 
 seen her for three years." 
 
 "Twenty years wouldn't have made any difference. 
 Please ask Miss Chancely to see me this evening, if 
 you can." 
 
 She was really rather alarmed at him, and wanted 
 him gone, so she promised. 
 
 She discussed the matter with her husband while 
 they dressed for dinner. 
 
 "Forrester's an odd chap," he remarked; "he 
 wouldn't take things like that without reason. Of 
 course it's all damn rot, as I said this morning." 
 
 "You said more than that," remarked his wife softly. 
 
 "Well, perhaps I did." 
 
 "Forrester was a special protege of hers, I've heard, 
 and so was Preston. They were both after my time, 
 but I met them at old boys' matches, and her too. 
 She's a good sort. I believe she nearly adopted Pres- 
 ton." 
 
 "Well, then, he wouldn't let this story get about if 
 it wasn't true." 
 
 "Oh, I don't know. Anyhow, if Forrester wants 
 to do something, you'd better back him up." 
 
 Mark had his interview with Miss Chancely, who 
 took great pains to impress on him that she was only 
 relating hearsay at his special request. 
 
 "I quite understand that," he told her somewhat 
 grimly; "it's only hearsay, but it's got to be heard to 
 be stopped."
 
 286 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 He gathered a little more from this interview, learnt 
 that Madre had been supposed to be seedy for some 
 time, and that this rumour had come on the top of a 
 vague wonder amongst her friends ; heard that many 
 of those friends later on had steadily put their faces 
 against the rumour, but too late to do any real good, 
 and that Mrs. Crofton's own action in refusing to go 
 about or meet people, had made refutation even more 
 difficult; that the Bessingtons would not mention the 
 subject, and appeared to be satisfied that Mrs. Crofton 
 should retire from her usual social life if she wished 
 to; that they and the Prestons were not on speaking 
 terms. Here Mark rather took her aback by asking: 
 "Where are the Prestons?" 
 
 "They are at Camberley; he's m the staff college, 
 and Mrs. Preston and the baby flourish exceedingly. 
 Their cousin, Miss Mitchen, is a great friend of moth- 
 er's," Miss Chancely explained; "that's how it is I 
 know so much of them." 
 
 She was still puzzling in her mind what was the pre- 
 cise connection of Mr. Forrester to the Prestons. It 
 must be slight, or he would have known their address. 
 
 Mark made a note of the address. 
 
 "Your mother knows Mrs. Crofton, too, I think?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "Oh, yes, but not intimately. She met her at the 
 Massinghams'." 
 
 Mark got up and shook himself, and looked down 
 at Miss Chancely speculatively. 
 
 "When you write to your mother, Miss Chancely, 
 will you tell her that the rumour about Mrs. Crofton 
 is quite unfounded, and will she contradict it flatly?" 
 
 "On your authority?" 
 
 "Yes. I know how it got about, you see, and it's 
 got to be set right. It's quite untrue." 
 
 "You will have to make Adam Preston believe that 
 to do any good."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 287 
 
 "He's going to believe it," returned Mark, so grimly, 
 that Miss Chancery was startled into uneasy convic- 
 tion not only of his sincerity, but of something behind 
 it she could not name. 
 
 "Thank you," he said, holding out his hand. "Don't 
 forget to tell your mother that and I hope you'll 
 have a good time out here." 
 
 She really found nothing to say to him, though she 
 found plenty to think about. Mrs. Saunders was very 
 annoyed to come in ten minutes later and find her 
 alone and Mark gone. 
 
 "I wanted him particularly to settle up about the 
 picnic," she complained, but her friend could only 
 say he had gone before she could think of any other 
 subject for conversation. 
 
 Mrs. Saunders was still more annoyed and amazed 
 when her husband came in that evening, and told her 
 that mad fellow Forrester had been to his chief and 
 commandeered three months leave on important busi- 
 ness. 
 
 "The cheek of it!" growled Saunders, struggling 
 with a refractory collar. 
 
 "Whatever did Lord Luden say?" she asked. 
 
 "That's the most maddening part of it. He said 
 yes!" 
 
 "He's let him go?" echoed Mrs. Saunders, staring 
 open mouthed and open eyed at her husband. 
 
 "Let him go! He wired within half an hour to 
 Bombay for a berth in the first boat, and he's starting 
 to-night! That young man will go far, Winifred." 
 
 "As far as England, it seems," she retorted drily. 
 
 "Further than that," chuckled Saunders. "I ask 
 you, is Luden the sort of man who gives his secre- 
 taries leave off on demand?" 
 
 "It's incredible!" 
 
 "It's blackmail, nothing short," laughed Saunders. 
 "That's why I said he'd go far,"
 
 288 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "George, you are most indiscreet." 
 
 "Winifred, you have lost your sense of humour." 
 
 "I have. If Mark's gone, I shall give up my picnic. 
 He might have come to say good-bye. What has he 
 gone for?" 
 
 "How should I know." 
 
 "It's Mrs. Crofton," pronounced his wife with de- 
 cision. "I am sure of it." 
 
 "Rot! A man doesn't tear off to England because 
 some one spreads tales he doesn't like about a woman 
 nearly old enough to be his mother." 
 
 "Mark would." 
 
 She could not convince him. 
 
 Yet the truth was Mark got his leave because he 
 told Lord Luden exactly why he wanted it, and Luden 
 had known Mrs. Crofton in past days. 
 
 in 
 
 Felicity languidly turned over a guide to New Zea- 
 land. On a paper besides her there were some rough 
 calculations set down, but she was not greatly inter- 
 ested in either the one or the other. She had just 
 returned from a call on Mrs. Seeler. There had been 
 several other callers, mostly old or at least elderly. 
 They had talked a great deal about the foolishness of 
 the young, and Felicity, looking at them, had wondered 
 what they found to compensate for the irreparable 
 loss of what they condemned. But she said nothing, 
 for what was the use, if in their hearts they had not 
 realised their passing touch with splendour, and the 
 possibilities the years had stifled in them? Mrs. Pur- 
 ley, who wanted (but in rather a half-hearted manner 
 when it came to the point) to go to New Zealand, was 
 amongst them. She also accepted her age, as bestow- 
 ing honour on her rather than robbing her of rights.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 289 
 
 She accepted it as she accepted her indifferent health, 
 as something expected and appropriate. 
 
 When she left Felicity had made a slight protest 
 against this attitude to Mr. Seeler, who accompanied 
 her to the door. 
 
 "Age might be so beautiful if coupled to the right 
 things," she said wistfully. 
 
 "What are the right things?" he asked gravely. 
 
 "Joy and appreciation, and understanding of 
 youth!" she answered promptly. 
 
 Her eyes pleaded for agreement, but he shook his 
 head. 
 
 "Age means more than that, Mrs. Crofton." 
 
 "Yes, it means accepting the fact that one has lost 
 the game with a good heart and never discouraging 
 others!" 
 
 "Life isn't a game." 
 
 "It's a puzzle. Age, like death, is a mistake that we 
 have never yet found the way to avoid ; but some day, 
 some young thing will find it out." 
 
 He looked and was shocked. 
 
 "Death and age are part of life and inevitable." 
 
 "Christ did not think so; did not think them inev- 
 itable or eternal truths," she replied, with that swift- 
 ness that he had learned to dread; "and if age were 
 the desideratum of the earth, it would hold most 
 joy and most knowledge, and in that case Christ 
 would havei waited another twenty years before teach- 
 ing." 
 
 He looked more shocked than ever. 
 
 "Those are not very safe ideas, Mrs. Crofton." 
 
 He was profoundly sorry for her, and anxious to 
 help her into safe or orthodox paths, but so far he 
 had failed, and he knew it, and it humiliated him. 
 
 "If I really left off wanting things, or caring about 
 seeing things, or seeing others do them, which is the 
 next best thing, I would much rather die,"
 
 2QO FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "That is not in our hands." 
 
 She still had one more bolt for him, and she shot it. 
 
 "I wonder! Sometimes I think we have more to 
 say in the matter than we think!" 
 
 It left him speechless, only relieved that she should 
 go. Instinctively she knew she had more than shocked 
 him, and she turned penitently on the step. 
 
 "You mustn't mind my saying things I think, even 
 if you don't agree. There are some things which are 
 much more alive when they are spoken than when they 
 are thought, and they want to be alive." 
 
 That was why she got out the guide books when she 
 got back. She wanted to make quite sure she was 
 interested in things. 
 
 But she pushed them away. 
 
 After all, it was not the journey against which her 
 mind rebelled, but the companion with whom it would 
 be undertaken. 
 
 "She will always be looking at things, not taking 
 part in them," she murmured with a sort of despair. 
 "And even then she will be thinking how much wiser 
 she is than those foolish young things ! Now I don't 
 mind, or don't much mind, looking on, but I shall 
 understand how lovely it is, and I want my companion 
 to be taking part in it. Yet the voyage would be so 
 good for her if she would take it!" 
 
 But she herself to-day could not face the prospect of 
 life tied to unappreciative age. It was not age itself 
 against which she fought, but that self-appreciation 
 that had let go its vision and remembered nothing of 
 the glory of it. 
 
 "I will not get like that ! I will not !" she repeated 
 again and again. "I will let myself die first!" 
 
 She turned to the papers and found herself lan- 
 guidly interested, indifferent to news that would once 
 have interested her, until she came to a paragraph 
 announcing the marriage of Rosalind Meredith to
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 291 
 
 young Harmore. Rosalind had never written to tell 
 her she was even engaged ! She had loved her best of 
 all the girls, and she did not like this marriage for 
 she knew Rosalind's heart was set elsewhere. If only 
 she had known in time! It wouldn't bear thinking 
 about! .... 
 
 She tried instead to think of the sea, of yellow sands 
 and dancing water, of racing wind and cool woods; 
 but none of these things moved her to-day to an 
 answering throb of desire. 
 
 She was conscious of weariness and oppression. 
 When she came to think of it, there was nothing young 
 in all the house! Nothing in all the Square unless 
 it were the sparrows! There was Mr. Carey down- 
 stairs. Old, quite old. There was Mr. Mears. Only 
 thirty-seven, according to his wife! According to 
 Felicity, he must be one hundred and thirty-seven! 
 There was Mrs. Mears herself, with her inward fund 
 of cheerful optimism, but with her hair growing grey 
 in spite of it, and lines pencilling the corners of her 
 eyes, far older than her years warranted. There were 
 clerks young men, some young, some old, in the big 
 office across the way, but if they were young, they 
 lacked the grace of youth. She never saw their 
 rounded figures and dull faces, without an heart ache 
 for a sight of Adam's fresh, clear, satisfying beauty 
 and easy energy. The Seelers had children, but they 
 were already teaching in Sunday schools and collect- 
 ing for open air funds, fed already with the respon- 
 sibilities of life. 
 
 No! The Square held nothing young! That was 
 what was the matter with her! 
 
 She would go and see Veronica. It was the only 
 satisfactory thing left, that there was always Veronica, 
 young, and not entangled in responsibilities. There 
 was no one else left to see. They wouldn't trust her 
 with youth now. Not even with Rosalind! She
 
 292 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 stretched out her hands, looking at them piteously. 
 They seemed to her suddenly grown empty ! 
 
 Felicity dropped her hands on her lap. No, she 
 would not go to Hampstead. She was too tired, and 
 what did it matter ! It was no use. She was getting 
 old like the rest of the world. She was tired, tired, 
 tired ! 
 
 IV 
 
 Mark deserted the boat at Brindisi, and travelling 
 overland arrived in London two days later at the un- 
 toward hour of seven-thirty. 
 
 He found an hotel, breakfasted, and as early as was 
 permissible he went to The Temple. 
 
 When Bessington arrived he was told a gentleman 
 was already waiting to see him. 
 
 "A Mr. Forrester," explained the clerk rather ner- 
 vously, lest he should have done wrong to admit so 
 early a visitor. He said he was a friend of yours." 
 
 "Quite so," said Bessington absently. 
 
 He stopped for a minute outside the door to weigh 
 the possibilities of this visit. There might be a hun- 
 dred reasons for Mark's return, but he could think of 
 only one for his early appearance at his door. His 
 mind at least jumped to this one conclusion, and there 
 was a deep ring of truth in his first greeting to Mark : 
 
 "No man in the world more welcome." 
 
 Mark looked him steadily in the face. 
 
 "Can you guess what I have come for?" 
 
 "An address, isn't it? How do you happen to be 
 in England?" 
 
 "I heard something I didn't like in India, and I've 
 come to set it right." Mark spoke shortly. "I want 
 Madre's address." 
 
 "You came all the way for that?" 
 
 "It's a mistake. It's got to be put right." 
 
 Bessington took up his pen and began to draw odd
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 293 
 
 shapes on a blotter. After a moment's silence he said : 
 
 "I am glad you can put it right. I never believed it 
 for a minute, of course." 
 
 "Other people have, apparently. I want you to tell 
 me just how much damage has been done." 
 
 Bessington looked at the thin, bronzed face before 
 him. Why on earth, if Madre must needs play at 
 having a son, couldn't she have set her affection on 
 Mark instead of Adam? 
 
 "I came overland from Brindisi," said Mark, as 
 one disposing of a secondary subject to clear the 
 ground. "I have to save days, as I've got not quite 
 two months' leave. That's why I came to you first 
 for the address." 
 
 Bessington nodded, but still he did not give it. 
 
 He appreciated to the full the other's singleness of 
 purpose, but what would Madre say? 
 
 "How did you hear about it?" he asked. 
 
 Mark told him, still without waste of a single word, 
 in no haste, and in a perfectly even voice. 
 
 "I might have written," he concluded, "but Stella 
 has been too much for me before, and it was quicker 
 and safer to come. It was Stella, of course, and not 
 Madre who took the stuff. Morphine, I suppose. She 
 took it years ago, though I thought she was cured. I 
 don't know in the least why Madre took it on herself, 
 unless to save Stella a row with Preston. She must 
 have found Stella out, and tried to shield her. Prob- 
 ably Stella got some promise out of her. That is all 
 I can make of it. It's preposterous that Madre should 
 suffer in the least for Stella, and of course, it can't be 
 allowed to go on. That's my story. What's yours ?" 
 
 There was no bitterness in his tone, only a drear 
 acceptance of facts, that told Bessington bitterness had 
 worn itself out with the years. He was profoundly 
 sorry for Mark, and touched to the quick by his act of 
 direct chivalry, as something which concerned not only
 
 294 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 Madre but himself. All the same he answered him 
 guardedly. 
 
 "Madre herself told me nothing. But there is no 
 doubt you are right. She must have made a promise 
 to your sister. How it came out no one knows. Adam 
 swears he told no one. I fear I did not believe him. 
 It's easy for us to say it's preposterous, but the wicked- 
 ness of it lies in the fact that the surface story is true, 
 you see. Adam did find the morphine and the rest of 
 it, and Madre did claim them, and Adam did turn her 
 out intolerant young brute! With that start it was 
 not possible to do much when one had so little to go 
 on but personal conviction." 
 
 He felt as if he were on his defence before this plain 
 dealing man who had travelled six thousand miles to 
 kill a rumour concerning a woman he loved and re- 
 spected. He moved his chair a little, so that he was 
 not bound to look directly at Mark, for after all it 
 was not pleasant to have tacitly to admit one's sister 
 had neither conscience nor morals. But Mark was 
 unmoved : he merely shifted one leg over the other. 
 
 "Madre took it to heart rather badly, I fear. First 
 Adam's believing her what she told him, which was 
 like a woman! And more because he behaved badly 
 to her. (Not that you will ever get her to admit 
 that I am telling you what I think her feelings were.) 
 Then came the Merediths and the rest of them with 
 their letters and excuses, and she could do nothing. 
 He went to see Fafner, and Fafner I suppose he was 
 caught by the way she put it was angry, and said 
 things he repented afterwards. You can guess all 
 that!" 
 
 Mark nodded. 
 
 "Anyhow, after that she wouldn't see any one for 
 ages. Then I found her, and she became more sen- 
 sible, and people began to be a bit ashamed of them- 
 selves, but she still wouldn't go about, Couldn't, really,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 295 
 
 and didn't want to own it. Her chief trouble now is 
 that, though most people would be the same to her if 
 they met her, they still wouldn't let their children come 
 to her as they used to do, while she has no explanation 
 to give. That's what hurts her. It cuts her off from 
 young things!" 
 
 Mark moved restlessly. 
 
 "Well, it's going to be explained." 
 
 "If she will let you!" 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "She doesn't want any explanation now, because she 
 says it would be much harder for Adam not to be angry 
 with your sister after all this time, and that as they 
 are very happy together she won't risk breaking that 
 happiness." 
 
 "Happiness that isn't deserved!" returned Mark, 
 with a short laugh. 
 
 "Madre isn't well, Mark. I am not sure that you 
 can argue it out with her. That was another nail for 
 the rumour to hammer on. She hasn't been herself 
 for some time, and though we all noticed it, she 
 wouldn't own up. She has some heart trouble, and it's 
 taking the energy out of her. That, and the position 
 of things together. I am not at all sure she will let you 
 do anything." 
 
 "Then I'll convince Stella first." 
 
 His lips shut like a trap. 
 
 "All you can do there without upsetting Madre, is 
 to make her release Madre from her promise." 
 
 "Yes. I'll do that." He got up and stared out of 
 the window. 
 
 "There's one thing I might tell you, Bessington. 
 When Stella married I stipulated with her that she 
 should tell Adam about this old failing, of hers. And 
 because I guessed that Stella funked it, I wrote to 
 Madre and asked her to back Stella up. I honestly 
 thought there was no chance of the trouble cropping
 
 296 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 up again, but Preston was my best friend, and he had 
 the right to know. Stella, I suppose, told Madre just 
 as much of her story as she wanted to, and Madre, 
 without entering into particulars, just wrote to me and 
 said it was all told and settled. Stella never wrote at 
 all. Stella never could run straight. I meant to see 
 Madre first, to find out just what Stella did tell her, so 
 as to know where I was with Stella, because if Adam 
 really did know this, and swallowed Madre's tale he's 
 more crassly stupid than I thought. He never could 
 see more than two issues to anything," he went on, in 
 a ruminating way, "a right and a wrong. Life's simple 
 enough when one only sees that!" 
 
 "It's apt to make it very uncomfortable for other 
 people," began Bessington hotly. 
 
 Mark looked at him with lifted brows. 
 
 "Preston would never be concerned with other peo- 
 ple!" 
 
 "I thought he was your friend?" 
 
 "Friends aren't necessarily saints. Besides, one must 
 be fair. The blame does not rest with him." 
 
 "That's where we differ, Mark. My quarrel with 
 Preston is that he believed this of Madre. It was that 
 which hurt her most. Also I had believed it was he 
 who gave the story away, but I suppose," he admit- 
 ted it grudgingly, "there are other possibilities." 
 
 "I am afraid so. There shouldn't have been any- 
 thing to give away. The fault is mine for not having 
 written to Preston myself when they were married. 
 I didn't because I thought it would come better from 
 her but it leaves me responsible. Now please what's 
 Madre's address?' 
 
 "She has been living in the city with one of her pro- 
 teges, a Mrs. Mears. Yesterday I was telephoned for 
 her by Mrs. Mears. Madre had had an extra bad faint- 
 ing attack. I insisted on taking her up to Hampstead 
 in the evening, and she's there now."
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 297 
 
 Mark tried to hide his anxiety, but failed. 
 
 "How bad is she?" 
 
 "She is well over it now, but no one knows how 
 long she will keep well, you see. She has had this 
 trouble for three or four years, and has been fighting 
 it off. Her doctor says it must have started by some 
 unusual physical strain, but she won't tell what it was, 
 even if she knows. You know how she hates being 
 thought ill." 
 
 "Is it dangerous?" 
 
 "Not immediately. He says if she leads a perfectly 
 quiet life, and doesn't wear herself out doing the things 
 she likes doing, travelling and looking after people, 
 for example, she may live as long as any of us. If 
 she does do what she likes doing, he will answer for 
 nothing." 
 
 There was excessive bitterness in his voice, and 
 Mark looked at him curiously. 
 
 "You will not find it easy to make her do nothing." 
 
 "No." The answer was brief, almost curt. 
 
 "How's Veronica?" asked Mark. 
 
 Bessington replied absently. 
 
 Both men were silent for a space, both thinking of 
 the same woman, both wondering a little at the other's 
 devotion to her, and both glad of it. 
 
 "Which are you going to see first?" asked Bessing- 
 ton at last. 
 
 "Stella. I shall go down by the two o'clock train." 
 
 "I am not sure Madre will be pleased." 
 
 "I'm sorry, but I'll run no risks. At present I, at 
 least, am bound by no promise." 
 
 "No, but when you see her you will find yourself 
 bound by her wishes, like the rest of us." 
 
 "That's why I go to Camberley first. All being well, 
 may I come up to you to-morrow?" 
 
 "Will you have attacked matters so quickly?" 
 
 Mark's lips straightened.
 
 298 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Would you put up with a day's delay in my place?" 
 
 "I suppose not. But I must warn her you are com- 
 ing, Mark." 
 
 "As you like." 
 
 He took his hat to go, hesitated a minute, as if he 
 had still something to say, but went without saying it. 
 It would after all be slightly invidious to thank 
 Madre's own son-in-law for believing in her! 
 
 Bessington went back to Hampstead directly after 
 lunch. He had an uncomfortable conviction that loy- 
 alty to Madre demanded his instant avowal of Mark's 
 return and his purpose. He had not seen her that 
 morning. Although she declared she had quite re- 
 covered from yesterday's really alarming attack, she 
 had yielded to Veronica's entreaty that she should at 
 least remain in bed to breakfast. In her heart of 
 hearts she was glad and thankful to be here with her 
 loved ones, glad that the decision had been taken so 
 authoritatively out of her hands; glad to feel how 
 utterly she was in Dominic's power when it was his 
 will to exert it. It was so long since any one had had 
 either the right or the assurance to dictate to her. It 
 would have fretted her terribly from any one else, but 
 from Dominic it was something of a joy. Life did 
 not seem so difficult. 
 
 The depression of the past week lifted a little, and 
 when Dominic saw her she was her usual cheerful self, 
 but very apologetic over her collapse of yesterday. 
 
 "It was such a stupid thing to do and I must have 
 interfered shamefully with your work." 
 
 Dominic agreed gravely that it was very stupid, but 
 added that his work had survived. 
 
 "It is really all the fault of Sir Christopher Wren.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 299 
 
 He shouldn't have put so many steps to his cathe- 
 dral." 
 
 "I don't regret my time in Lutton Square at all," 
 she said presently; "it was peaceful, and Janet Mears 
 is worth knowing. However, I don't think I ever felt 
 a 'real fit' or part of it all. It was very unreal, like 
 being half awake. I'm afraid the Seelers were very 
 disappointed with me. I have never come in close 
 contact with that sort of good orthodox people before, 
 and I've learnt a lot, but not quite what they wanted 
 me to learn. I really wanted to find out if that sort 
 of thing meant anything to me. But it doesn't! It 
 was all just an interlude." 
 
 "Life's made up of interludes," he told her cheer- 
 fully, "and it's only dull when they are too prolonged." 
 
 "Yes, that's just my idea, and then people call one 
 restless." 
 
 She looked anything but restless just then, but 
 Dominic's conscience was, anH it pressed him to con- 
 fession. 
 
 "Guess whom I've seen to-day?" 
 
 "I don't like guessing. Tell me." 
 
 "Well, then Mark." 
 
 She sat bolt upright. 
 
 "Mark! Is he never going to give us warning of 
 his leave, like a rational being? What is he home 
 for?" 
 
 "Pleasure, I suppose. You are not to get excited, 
 Madre, or I won't go on." 
 
 "I am not excited; I am interested. When is he 
 coming to see me ?" 
 
 "To-morrow if you are well enough." 
 
 "I'm not ill, Dominic. It was only the steps and the 
 heat." 
 
 "Yes, of course; we know that." 
 
 "Where's Mark to-day?" 
 
 "Gone down to the Prestons',"
 
 300 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 She caught a curious note in his voice, and her mind 
 sprang to wakeful alertness. 
 
 "Dominic, what is it? You are keeping something 
 from me. Why is he gone to them?" 
 
 "Where should he go, if not to his own sister and 
 friend?" 
 
 "I wish he had come to me first. I ought to see him 
 
 before before " Her voice faltered slightly - 
 
 "before he hears anything." 
 
 Her eyes questioned him sharply, but he kept his on 
 the floor. 
 
 "He hasn't heard things already, Dominic?" 
 
 "Yes, he heard something in India." 
 
 She leant back with a look of pain in her eyes. 
 
 "So far away as that?" 
 
 "From Miss Chancely, just out. He didn't like 
 what he heard, so he came over to set it right that's 
 all!" 
 
 He smiled at her reassuringly. After all she had 
 better know. It was too late now to do anything. 
 
 "All! You talk as if India were next door." 
 
 "I told him you might like to see him to-morrow." 
 
 She did not speak for a while. She lay still, with 
 shining eyes, then suddenly her face changed. 
 
 "He has gone to them at Camberley, you say ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 She put her hand on his arm, and he saw that it 
 was shaking. 
 
 "Dominic, he must be stopped. I won't have trou- 
 ble made between Adam and Stella now. I couldn't 
 bear it. You must stop it!" 
 
 Her face was strained and anxious. He saw it was 
 no passing fancy with her, and also that she must be 
 kept quiet; but it went sorely against the grain. 
 
 "We've been through it, Dominic, before. You 
 said you understood. Don't fail me after all !" 
 
 "What do you want me to do?" he sighed.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 301 
 
 "Wire to him. Tell him I insist on his waiting to 
 see me. Oh, suppose it is too late!" 
 
 He had to reassure her, her agitation was so great. 
 
 "He did not go down till the two o'clock train. 
 Most likely a wire would be in time." 
 
 "Send it quickly, Dominic. It's why you told me, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 "I don't know why I was fool enough to tell you !" 
 he grumbled. 
 
 "Because you understand and I trust you. Be 
 quick." 
 
 He had to write a wire then and there, and des- 
 patch it. After that was done, she was content to lie 
 quiet. It was obvious to him that she could at present 
 stand no extra strain of any kind. He was glad when 
 the doctor paid her an afternoon visit. He only re- 
 peated what Bessington had heard before. "She 
 mustn't be allowed to exert herself in any way. Get 
 her into a quiet country place as soon as you can, so she 
 can lie out in a garden and do nothing but vegetate." 
 
 "For how long?" he questioned. 
 
 The doctor looked at him quizzically. 
 
 "How can I tell?" 
 
 "Will she get really well like that?" 
 
 "There is such a thing as compensation. But when 
 an engine has got a flaw in it, no amount of compen- 
 sation will make it safe to work it at full pressure." 
 
 "It's stagnation for her." 
 
 "So you said before." 
 
 Having seen the doctor off, he went back slowly to 
 the hall, and there he found little Mrs. Mears, who had 
 brought up some of Madre's "things" as an excuse 
 for coming to see how she had stood the journey. 
 
 She begged for a word with him, and he took her 
 into his own room. 
 
 "Mr. Bessington, sir there's something I want to 
 gay to you; I came up hoping I should see you, If I
 
 302 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 did, I knew I had to say it, and here you are. It's 
 just this. Don't let the doctors stop Mrs. Crofton 
 going about and living naturally. The worst thing that 
 could happen to her would be being made to give up 
 and let other folks think she is a permanent invalid. 
 No one is, really, of course. They only think it," 
 she added hurriedly. 
 
 He looked down at her rather white, anxious little 
 face; anxious despite her faith, and he said rather 
 grimly : 
 
 "I have just been told to do precisely what you say 
 I am not to do, Mrs. Mears. What am I to believe?" 
 
 "I feel it here," she thumped her breast, "that she 
 will get well if she's only 'let.' If some one that under- 
 stands will stand by her. If she is tired let her rest. 
 The right sort of rest means healing. But I know 
 what I am saying if only I could convince you, sir." 
 Her appealing eyes were fixed on him. 
 
 "Why me?" he said, half to himself. 
 
 "That I can't tell you, but somehow I know it will 
 rest with you." 
 
 He interposed. 
 
 "You would say let her travel, or do what ever she 
 wishes ?" 
 
 He was not scoffing at her, nor was he taking grip 
 of her faith, though her idea was nearer his mind 
 than the doctor's. 
 
 "Let her follow the wish that is in her most deeply. 
 It's not there for nothing." 
 
 "I can only say that if it rested with me I would 
 rather have her her old self for a few years than an 
 invalid for a long life." 
 
 "It does rest with you. I saw that yesterday. But 
 you mustn't limit the time like that, even in your 
 thoughts. It's these limits we set to God's power that 
 do the mischief." 
 
 Bessington thought of the bare, office-like house
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 303 
 
 where she lived, of her hard and rather sordid life, of 
 the lack of beauty and freedom in it. It seemed to 
 him little short of a miracle that she should keep this 
 eternal spring of hope and faith alive in her heart so 
 that she in truth set no bounds to the Power she wor- 
 shipped. What if behind her crude, illogical creed 
 there did lurk some truth? What if the limits were 
 indeed of our own setting? He thought of these 
 things when she had gone, while he sat and talked 
 with Madre and Veronica. They thought him a little 
 absentminded and silent. Madre at all events set no 
 limits to her service for others, or in her belief in the 
 rights of others to happiness. She would take no gain 
 to herself at another's cost, and the sum total of result 
 was that she called forth from others corresponding 
 unselfishness, singleness of heart and devotion. 
 
 Not from all! There was Stella, of course; the ex- 
 ception ! 
 
 He wondered if his wire was in time. He still 
 could not but wish it were too late, and then felt 
 ashamed of himself. Madre's wishes were after all 
 of more importance than Stella's discomforture. Still, 
 he knew when he had added a clause to the wire fhat 
 Stella should come with Mark, that he had a reason 
 at the back of his mind. Madre might have her way 
 as to Adam, but he could not for the life of him see 
 why Stella should not be brought to book and at least 
 made to face the generosity that was spent on her. 
 In all else Madre must have her way and he must sup- 
 port her. He did not seek to find out why it was, but 
 he knew that Mrs. Mears was right, and that with 
 regard to Madre's future the casting vote would lie 
 \vith him; and he was glad of it.
 
 3 04 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 "Mark Intervenes" 
 
 ADAM was away on a staff ride and Stella was left in 
 solitude with the consolation that she could at least 
 please herself by spending more idle days than would 
 meet with Adam's general approval. She lived in the 
 garden, motored each evening, and let her social duties 
 take care of themselves. It was pleasant, but, of 
 course, not so pleasant as having Adam with her. She 
 most genuinely missed him, and the thought that his 
 absence was only for a fortnight at most did not recon- 
 cile her to General Meader's inconsiderateness in going 
 staff riding in Wales instead of nearer home. 
 
 The garden still looked very beautiful in spite of the 
 dearth of the first best summer flowers. As she strolled 
 down a path Stella almost decided she would ask her 
 mother up for a few days, as Adam had suggested. 
 She had put the proposal aside for the time, thinking 
 that she would prefer solitude, but really her mother 
 would make little difference. She would not want to 
 get up early, and she would be pleased to motor when, 
 and where, Stella liked, and she would enjoy seeing 
 the baby. It would be kind. Adam had hinted as 
 much. Stella felt so content with the world (always 
 excepting General Meader) that she wanted to do 
 some one a kindness. It was still a subtle pleasure to 
 her to display her good possessions to her mother, to 
 make ostentatious use of the best things, and to accept 
 all her little luxuries and joys with an assumed indif*-
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 1305 
 
 ference that demonstrated habitual use. In point of 
 fact her consciousness was still keenly alive to her own 
 material gains. These were summed up to her in 
 three parts, good clothes, good food and good sur- 
 roundings. She had them all and coupled to them she 
 had her husband and child. Certainly she could af- 
 ford to be kind to her mother. 
 
 She began retracing her steps to the house to fulfil 
 this laudable intention before post time, when she saw 
 a tall thin man coming up the entrance drive, and she 
 stopped. It was early for callers, and she was not. 
 sure she wanted any. The visitor saw her, hesitated 
 and then, turning from the front door, came straight 
 across the garden towards her. 
 
 The heat of the day seemed suddenly to have in- 
 creased, so that a faint mist swam before her eyes. Of 
 course it couldn't be Mark. She was quite thankful, 
 it couldn't be Mark. 
 
 She stood still where she was, watching his approach. 
 
 It was Mark! 
 
 ii 
 
 "It's so like you to choose a time when Adam isn't 
 at home to protect me," she moaned. 
 
 "I didn't know he was away. How could I? Be 
 sensible, Stella!" 
 
 "I wonder you expect me to be sensible at all, con- 
 sidering all the horrible things you think of me!" she 
 retorted, picking up a faint show of spirit. 
 
 Mark sighed. They had talked for nearly an hour 
 with no results. His first imperious demand, that 
 would have reduced Stella Forrester to tears and com- 
 pliance, was met by fierce and hot refusals from Stella 
 Preston. The whole thing, she insisted, had nothing 
 to do with Mark, and never had had. She reiterated 
 this now. 
 
 "It's a question of your telling Adam or my telling
 
 306 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 him, that's all," he said at last driven from all hopes 
 of moving her moral consciousness. 
 
 "You are abominably cruel! Here I am perfectly 
 happy, with everything a woman can want, and you 
 want to take it all from me!" 
 
 "You exaggerate as hopelessly as ever." 
 
 "I don't. I know Adam a great deal better than 
 you do ! Oh, Mark !" She suddenly changed her tone, 
 and leaning forward put her hand on his. "Mark, 
 don't be cruel. What does it all matter now ? Indeed, 
 you will spoil our lives, Adam's and mine. He would 
 never forgive me. He didn't treat Madre well, you 
 see!" 
 
 "I am not thinking of Adam," he persisted. 
 
 "But no one seriously thinks it of her, or thinks 
 the worse of her. Besides, she's ill Jane says she 
 can never go about as she used to do, so she could not 
 be seeing people, and it won't make much difference. 
 Do let things alone !" 
 
 The case was beyond anger even, and he gazed at 
 her with hopeless despair. There seemed no rudiment 
 of faith or honour in her. She was not in the least 
 ashamed of her appeal. She quite evidently considered 
 it as mere common sense. He made one last try. 
 
 "You are building up the whole of your future on 
 a lie, Stella; if you can't see the shame of it, can't 
 you see the danger?" 
 
 "You are the only danger." 
 
 That woke his anger again. 
 
 "Because another woman is more generous to you 
 than any living man or woman has a right to expect !" 
 
 "Yes, she is generous, I see that. She wouldn't 
 want you to make a fuss about it. 
 
 "You think I have come all the way from India to 
 set this right, and am going back without doing it, 
 because Madre is generous and you are without a con- 
 science?"
 
 
 " SHE STOOD STILL, WATCHING HIS APPROACH "
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 307 
 
 "You are unkind. And you couldn't have come all 
 the way just for that!" 
 
 "I did. Are you going to tell Adam, or am I ?" 
 
 They were back at the starting point. Do what he 
 would he could not chain her to the main issue. 
 
 "You care more for a finger ache of your precious 
 Mrs. Crofton than for your own sister's happiness!" 
 she cried bitterly. 
 
 "Perhaps I do." 
 
 "Mark, don't be such a brute." 
 
 "Then it's I?" He got up with a set face. 
 
 That forced her hand. 
 
 All this time, at the back of her mind, she had been 
 desperately seeking a way out. Holding him off to 
 gain time, thinking little of what she was actually say- 
 ing, concocting in her mind rather the answer she 
 would have ready for Adam if her brother stuck to his 
 threat, now she seized suddenly on a weapon of de- 
 fence, and questioned neither its legitimacy nor its 
 power. 
 
 "You will not tell him, Mark. I forbid it !" She 
 rose, too, gasping a little. For the first time she 
 showed to him that she was frightened, not of him, 
 but of something or some one else. 
 
 "If you do," her voice, though it shook, held such 
 despairing resolution that he was compelled to belief 
 "if you do tell Adam, then I shall take to morphine 
 again and other things ! Adam would never forgive 
 me, and there would be nothing left for me to do. But 
 it would be your doing, your fault, and if it's such an 
 awful thing as you all seem to think, the blame will 
 lie at your door!" 
 
 She had found her weapon now and she knew it ! 
 
 "Stella, you are talking wicked nonsense. You 
 have your child to think of." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 "I shouldn't have ! Adam would see to that ! Re-
 
 3 o8 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 member he sent Madre away his dear Madre! Be- 
 sides, he really cares more for his son than he does for 
 me. Tell him, if you wish to I have no more to say." 
 
 She moved towards the house: she had the instinct 
 to know that for the time at least the victory was in 
 her hands. 
 
 He followed her slowly, being for the moment ut- 
 terly at a loss. He had no fear himself concerning 
 Adam, but he saw the impossibility of convincing her. 
 For her terror was very real. He made no mistake 
 about that. He had seen genuine fear before, in the 
 eyes of natives, and the recognition of it, here in this 
 quiet garden, momentarily stunned him. Something 
 must have happened, of course, to give rise to so pre- 
 posterous a fear. 
 
 He thought of these things incoherently, as he fol- 
 lowed her, uncertain of what to do next, or what she 
 expected of him. 
 
 At the door of the house she paused to take a tele- 
 gram from a boy. Mark waited, watching her. She 
 looked at the address, turned it over, and looked back 
 at him. 
 
 "For you," she said, in an odd, constrained voice. 
 "Who knew you were here?" 
 
 "No one but Bessington." 
 
 He tore open the envelope. It was from Bessington. 
 
 "Madre forbids any move until you have seen her. 
 Come to-morrow and bring Mrs. Preston. Bessing- 
 ton." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 Stella's question broke in on his thoughts. He 
 answered by putting the wire into her hands. 
 
 "I knew Madre wouldn't approve!" she said tri- 
 umphantly. "If only you would listen to her instead 
 of being so sure you were in the right !" 
 
 "I am right," he said firmly, "but I'll see her first, 
 as she wishes it, We will go early,"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 309 
 
 "I can't go. I have an engagement." 
 
 He met her eyes steadily. This time she knew he 
 
 was master, and she turned away. 
 
 "Very well, if you are going to be horrid again." 
 They went inside. Stella rang for tea, and asked 
 
 Mark if he would like to see his nephew. 
 
 in 
 
 There had been an accident amongst the Welsh 
 mountains, and the general commanding the Staff 
 ride had been badly hurt. Preston was chosen to go 
 to Camberley with certain information, and two days' 
 leave. He slept in town, but wired early next morn- 
 ing to Stella to expect him. The unopened envelope of 
 his wire was the first thing that met his eye when he 
 walked into his own house two days later, wondering 
 where on earth Stella was, and why she was not look- 
 ing out for him. 
 
 He learnt from her maid that Mrs. Preston's brother 
 had arrived three days ago, and that they had both 
 motored up to town that morning, and had started 
 about an hour before he arrived. His telegram had 
 come ten minutes after they had gone. 
 
 He felt both puzzled and pleased at Mark's arrival, 
 and a little vexed at missing them, but turned his steps 
 philosophically to the nursery. 
 
 The maid still lingered so insistently, that he noticed 
 it, and turned to her with a short "Well ?" 
 
 "I think they went to see a lady who is ill, sir. Mrs. 
 Preston seemed much upset." 
 
 He paused to consider this matter. Was it Mrs. 
 Forrester. He hated questioning the servants, but 
 perhaps he ought to know. 
 
 "Do you know who it was ?" 
 
 "A Mrs. Crofton, I think, sir."
 
 3io FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 She spoke hesitatingly, hoping she would not be 
 questioned as to how she knew. The fact that her bed- 
 room window had been open when Stella and Mark 
 were standing beneath it talking that morning, ac- 
 counted for her knowledge. The effect of the name 
 she gave her master caused her intense satisfaction. 
 He stood still, frowning, clearly troubled, even agi- 
 tated. 
 
 "Are you sure?" he demanded. 
 
 "I I think that was the name. I will ask nurse if 
 you like, sir. She might know." 
 
 "No, it doesn't matter." 
 
 He made as if to go upstairs. After all it was not. 
 his business, though it was natural, if Madre were ill, 
 that Mark should wish to see her. Stella probably 
 saw no reason for not going. For after all he had 
 never spoken to her of the quarrel, and had forgotten 
 to wonder at her own silence concerning it. 
 
 Perhaps Madre was seriously ill! 
 
 He stopped again. Indecision was hateful to him, 
 and he felt irritated. He wandered out and down into 
 the village, to the public telephone, and rang up Ve- 
 ronica. It went against the grain to communicate with 
 the Bessingtons, but it was the quickest way to satisfy 
 himself there was nothing to worry about. It was 
 some time before he got through. When he did, it was 
 Veronica's voice that answered him. 
 
 Yes, Madre was not well. She was with them ; not 
 in bed, however. They were expecting Mark up that 
 day, and Stella. Madre much wished to see him. 
 Then a little pause: 
 
 "Adam, I wish you would come too." 
 
 She could not explain why, over the telephone. She 
 could not, indeed, have explained her impulse to ask 
 him at all, but she knew she wanted him there, and 
 that Madre would be pleased. 
 
 They were rung off before he had answered one way
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 1311 
 
 or another. He went back to the house still uncertain. 
 Stella had taken the big car; his little runabout was, 
 however, in the garage. It might not be in starting 
 trim. He found himself in the garage looking at it. 
 It seemed quite in order. Ten minutes later he was 
 driving towards London. 
 
 IV 
 
 "What are you smiling at, Madre?" 
 
 "I can't help it when I think of Mark coming all 
 that way! How does he look ?" 
 
 "Very well and brown. What are you going to say 
 to him?" 
 
 "Thank him very much, and explain I would rather 
 he left things alone." 
 
 "You won't find it easy to convince him." 
 
 "You'll back me up, Dominic?" Her voice was per- 
 suasive. 
 
 "Why do you say that? Could I hinder you?" 
 
 She looked away. 
 
 "Yes. I couldn't stand out against you. I suppose 
 I have had rather a bad time lately, and somehow I 
 feel as if I couldn't stand alone any more. It's silly 
 but there it is. I should feel dreadfully worried if it 
 weren't you, but you understand me, so I am safe." 
 
 "Well, don't worry. I am not going to stand be- 
 tween you and anything on which you have set your 
 beart." 
 
 She sighed with relief. 
 
 They were in the drawing room. She steadily re- 
 fused to be treated as an invalid, and Veronica gave 
 up the attempt, once Dominic had given his approval 
 to Madre's mood. She had said little when her hus- 
 band told her that Mark and possibly Stella were com- 
 ing up to see Madre that day, and had only asked if
 
 312 FELICITY CROFTO'N 
 
 she were to entertain Stella. Dominic said rather drily 
 that he would relieve her of that task. 
 
 Then she rather surprised him. 
 
 "I suppose it was Stella all along?" 
 
 "How do you know?" he asked. 
 
 "You were sure it wasn't Madre; so it must have 
 been Stella. I'm not such a baby as you and Madre 
 think, Dominic." 
 
 "I think you are that extreme rarity, a woman who 
 knows how to keep her own counsel," he replied. 
 
 "It's no use interfering over things that other people 
 can manage better than one can oneself." 
 
 "Is that your creed ?" 
 
 She looked at him with grave amusement, and a 
 sort of tenderness that he had noticed once or twice 
 and hardly understood. 
 
 "Did you think I hadn't any? I must go and see 
 that Madre has her milk." 
 
 She went off, and a minute later he heard her voice 
 singing as she went upstairs to the nursery. 
 
 Then he had gone into Madre, and with the door 
 open, she heard too and looked at him with rare 
 pleasure. 
 
 "Isn't it good to hear her, Dominic? Almost the 
 biggest thing you have done for me, is keeping her so 
 young." 
 
 Then they had spoken of Mark and the expected 
 visit. 
 
 When the Preston's motor stopped at the door, Bes- 
 sington went out to meet it. Mark looked at him in- 
 quiringly, but his manner was as imperturbable as 
 ever. Stella reluctantly prepared to get out. She 
 looked sullen and was silent. She hated coming, hated 
 Mark's silence, his quite obvious contempt for her, and
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 313 
 
 she hated above all, the fact that Bessington knew! 
 Mark had told her that much and she had fiercely up- 
 braided him for giving her away. Although she still 
 held to her point with Mark, that they were all making 
 a great fuss over nothing, she knew that she would 
 find it difficult to hold that opinion in Dominic Bes- 
 sington's presence, and she resented that. 
 
 She was not allowed to get out. Bessington stopped 
 her. 
 
 "If Mrs. Preston is not too tired I thought I would 
 take her for a turn round the Heath in my own car," 
 he said, looking at Mark rather than at her. "Madre's 
 really not up to seeing many people, though she would 
 resent being told so. Would you mind, Mrs. Preston ?" 
 
 He turned to her with a certain deference; but she 
 could no more have said no to him, than she could 
 have told her own chauffeur at that moment to take 
 her straight home. 
 
 "I'll just take Mark in, and be back in a minute." 
 
 She was left for that minute waiting in her car, 
 wondering why she could not give the order to return, 
 why she couldn't drive s.way instantly out of the lives 
 of these disturbing people and all concerning them. 
 
 Bessington was quite charming and polite when he 
 came out, and packed her comfortably into his own 
 motor. 
 
 "The Heath is looking better than one would think," 
 he remarked. "I hope you don't mind. I know Mrs. 
 Crofton will like a long talk with Mark, and would 
 feel she must hurry if she thought you were waiting." 
 
 She was utterly bewildered. What did he know, 
 after all, and what did he not know? Was he only 
 playing with her? One thing was certain, that he 
 did not care a rap, despite his politeness, whether she 
 minded coming with him or not. He meant her to 
 come, and she had done so! 
 
 They soon turned from the Heath proper, to roads
 
 314 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 little frequented, and then Bessington dropped from 
 the mere polite nothings he had let fall from time to 
 time into the matter in hand. 
 
 "I dare say that Mark told you Mrs. Crofton was 
 not well," he remarked. 
 
 Stella owned he had done so, and hoped it was 
 nothing serious. 
 
 He told her in very plain and direct words, what 
 was wrong, and of the doctor's warning and estimate 
 of Madre's future, and her own brave fight against 
 what seemed inevitable. 
 
 "She won't like doing nothing," Stella said, with a 
 little shiver. Her imagination could at least grip es- 
 sential facts. 
 
 "No, she will not. She will want all the help her 
 friends can give her. Mrs. Preston, I have something 
 I ought to tell you. Sometime ago I learnt the truth 
 about Madre and you. It was an interesting, curious 
 affair, but I learnt it without her permission, so of 
 course I have kept it to myself." 
 
 She leant back in her seat, shaking a little and try- 
 ing not to be frightened. She saw at once what it 
 meant, or might mean. Madre might get her way with 
 Mark, but there would be still some one else to reckon 
 with, and that, Madre's son-in-law ! Would she never 
 be free? She never questioned his statement. Even 
 her imagination refused to conjure up details which 
 should give the lie to his plain words. 
 
 "Of course she took the only possible course she 
 could take at the time," he went on, without glancing 
 at her. "Quite the right course. She would have taken 
 it even if she had known she would have to pay as she 
 has." 
 
 "The Merediths and the rest of them were brutes !" 
 burst forth Stella. 
 
 "Quite so. Did you tell them?" He turned his 
 head sharply to catch her off her guard.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 315 
 
 "No, I didn't." 
 
 "Whom did you tell?" he insisted quietly. 
 
 "I can't see what it has to do with you. It's all 
 between Madre, Mark and myself." 
 
 "I am glad to hear you say that if you and Mark 
 are of one mind, as I feel sure you are. Still, it does 
 matter to me a good deal. I am her son-in-law, after 
 all." 
 
 It was her turn to flash a look at him, and she caught 
 at the chance of hurting him. 
 
 "You ought to have married her yourself!" 
 
 "We were discussing to whom it was you told the 
 story of Mrs. Crofton taking drugs." 
 
 She began to get really frightened, since she could 
 not make him angry. 
 
 "I never told any one that. I think I told Jane 
 Mitchen that Adam thought she did, because Jane kept 
 bothering as to why Madre did not come to see me. I 
 had to say some thing! I told her it was stupid of 
 Adam but I don't remember very well. It was the 
 night my baby was born." 
 
 His face softened perceptibly. They were on a 
 lonely piece of road now, and he slackened down the 
 car to a mere crawl. 
 
 "Yes, that accounts for it. I had fancied Adam 
 told." 
 
 "You used to be a fair judge of character!" She 
 tossed it out scornfully. 
 
 "Yes, again. Anger destroys one's judgment. 
 And Adam, not knowing that you knew, believed 
 that Madre must have given herself away, and 
 that made him even surer. Yes, that's quite clear. 
 Now just what was the bargain between you and 
 her?" 
 
 She would not answer. She made a feeble attempt 
 to tell herself he had neither right nor power to ques- 
 tion her,
 
 3 i6 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "It was probably quite a reasonable bargain," he 
 said encouragingly. 
 
 It seemed no use denying him when he was so sure 
 she would answer in the end ! 
 
 "The bargain, as you call it, was that she should tell 
 Adam nothing until I gave her leave." 
 
 She said it defiantly, and the little soft spot in Bes- 
 sington's heart hardened again. 
 
 "On the understanding that you would give that, as 
 soon as you were really well ?" 
 
 She hated the blandness of his voice, as she 
 hated the force of his personality. She would far 
 rather have faced Mark's hot scorn and fierce in- 
 sistence. 
 
 "It must have been very trying for you, knowing 
 you were not well enough to meet your obligation, and 
 that meanwhile people were going on misunderstand- 
 ing her,' r he remarked sympathetically. 
 
 "She never sent or reminded me," said Stella sul- 
 lenly. 
 
 He lifted his brows as he bent down to readjust 
 something. 
 
 "It's not a very easy situation for you, Mrs. Preston. 
 I don't wonder you feel worried. I have been trying 
 to see what is really the simplest and easiest way out 
 for you." 
 
 "There's no need," she exclaimed sharply, clinging 
 to her last refuge. "Madre doesn't want anything 
 done. You wired as much yourself." 
 
 "No, but of course that's too hard on you. You 
 couldn't accept it. You must remember that what ties 
 her hand is not knowing whether you are really well 
 or ill. Naturally she doesn't want Mark to give things 
 away till you say so. It would look as if she hadn't 
 kept her promise." 
 
 "I don't know what you mean. You are playing 
 with me!" she broke out fiercely. "I tell you there's
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 317 
 
 no need to do anything. Why can't you all let Madre 
 do as she wants?" 
 
 "At the cost of your self-respect?" 
 
 He said it quite gently, but with a curious suavity 
 that chilled her. 
 
 "Of course if Mrs. Crofton were really free and 
 still chose to keep her own counsel neither you nor I 
 nor any one would have the slightest right to say no to 
 her. You would have to accept her generosity in the 
 spirit in which it's offered." 
 
 Again she was oppressed by a sense of bewilder- 
 ment, and of some hidden depths within her that an- 
 swered to his call and would not be silenced. 
 
 "Otherwise it would be an intolerable position for 
 you," he went on evenly. "Adam might still get to 
 know by a hundred chances, and you would have noth- 
 ing to show as a set off. It would look as if it were 
 entirely your fault." 
 
 She made a grudging concession to that hidden self 
 that would not be suffocated. 
 
 "You think she won't tell him even if I give her 
 permission?" 
 
 "I can't possibly say." 
 
 Bessington spoke indifferently. He was not going 
 to give her that assurance. Let her reap a grain of 
 credit from the position if she could, or she would be 
 utterly bankrupt. 
 
 They drove on more quickly. Stella sat quiet, in- 
 capable of speech, trying to get abreast of this man's 
 meaning and to stave off her inevitable surrender. It 
 was inevitable, she knew. Indeed it seemed to her that 
 he had after all only revealed to her her own purpose. 
 Mark had fought to bend her to his ends, but Bessing- 
 ton had deluded her into believing his ends were of 
 her own choosing! 
 
 Presently they had turned homewards and were 
 climbing a steep hill. He spoke again.
 
 3i8 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "The worst of people like Mrs. Crofton is, that they 
 insist on living on mountain tops, and some of us find 
 the air rather rarefied. Still, there are compensations. 
 How's your baby?" 
 
 She struggled through another fog of mystification 
 and emerged to find herself talking freely of her son. 
 
 They turned the corner, and she saw that they were 
 back again, and that though her own car had gone 
 into the garage, there was a little Humber car at the 
 door. 
 
 "It's Adam's," she gasped, and her face went white. 
 He gave a swift look. 
 
 Yes, it was fright ! He slackened down speed. 
 
 "That's all right, if rather mystifying," he said 
 cheerfully. "I was going to suggest that you asked 
 Adam to be friends with Mrs. Crofton again." 
 
 As they entered the hall the maid told them that 
 Mrs. Bessington was in the garden with Mr. Preston, 
 and would they join them there. 
 
 Bessington, instead of complying, opened the door 
 of his own sitting room. 
 
 "Come in, Mrs. Preston. You need not be anxious. 
 If anything were wrong they would have been on the 
 lookout for us." 
 
 She followed him mechanically. 
 
 Bessington knew now that he had her completely 
 in his power. He could find it in his heart to be sorry 
 for her even, but he had not the slightest intention of 
 letting her off. 
 
 He put pen and paper before her. 
 
 "If you will just let Madre have it in writing." 
 
 "Have what?" 
 
 "Your permission to act as she likes." 
 
 "But not now when Adam's here !" she cried with 
 whitening lips. 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Preston, what difference does that 
 make? Suppose she does see that it's best to be quite
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 319 
 
 frank about it all? What better opportunity could 
 there be than when we are all here to explain it to 
 him, and how it was you had to wait so long till you 
 were quite fit? Mark's being here makes it all the 
 more simple, explicable. It would be simple now 
 supposing she saw it like that. It would never be so 
 simple again, remember." 
 
 At last she met his eyes. They were kindly, but 
 there was no wavering in them. At least she read no 
 scorn there, nor contempt, but instead a great pity. 
 Yet never by a single word did he assert his right to 
 pity or blame. He just took it for granted that her 
 wish to act was in accordance with some law of being 
 that governed them both, and she could not gainsay it. 
 
 "What am I to write?" she asked in a choking 
 voice. 
 
 "Just what ever comes first to your mind." 
 
 She wrote this : 
 
 "Dear Madre : You can do what you like about tell- 
 ing Adam. Stella." 
 
 She handed it to him, and he put it in an envelope 
 without looking at it, and sealed it ; then he handed it 
 back to her, but she pushed it away. 
 
 "No, no, don't give it me !" 
 
 He saw she was on the verge of tears, which was 
 the last thing he wanted, and fetched her some water. 
 Under his firm ministrations she made a most unusual 
 effort to control herself. 
 
 "We'll go into the garden and find your husband, 
 and then I'll take your note to Mrs. Crofton. Re- 
 member I don't know what she'll do, but until we 
 know you must play up and not let Adam think there's 
 anything amiss. I am sure you are good at that." 
 
 He said it quizzically, but she had the grace to 
 blush.
 
 320 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 They went down and out into the little garden, where 
 Adam was walking up and down with Veronica. 
 
 The latter looked a little anxiously at her husband. 
 It was possible he would be anything but pleased to see 
 Adam, and she was responsible for his being there, but 
 Bessington gave no sign he was otherwise than pleased. 
 Adam explained his presence told Stella that she 
 looked tired and that Mark had had no right to drag 
 her up to town this weather. 
 
 "Or I to take her further still, I expect you think," 
 said Bessington. "It was nice and fresh on the Heath 
 though. Was it too much for you, Mrs. Preston?" 
 
 Stella said No ; she was not tired. 
 
 "I think it was worth it myself. I'll just go now 
 and rout Mark out." 
 
 He gave Stella a little reassuring glance as he went. 
 
 If it were not for Madre he could almost have 
 found the situation amusing.
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 321 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 "Show me the man who will shirk no re- 
 sponsibility, who will judge me by my virtues 
 as well as by my faults, who will ever expect 
 me to act up to the highest that is within me, 
 and I will make of him a friend that shall 
 last till I need friendship no more." 
 
 "MARK, what am I to say to you? How does one 
 thank a man for travelling six thousand miles to do 
 one a service?" said Felicity. 
 
 "I've not done it yet," he returned quickly. "I 
 should have done, but for your wire, and the fact that 
 Adam was away." 
 
 "The gods are on my side!" 
 
 "You don't imagine I am going to do nothing, 
 after all?" 
 
 She patted the chair beside her. 
 
 "Come and sit down, Mark. I can't talk when you 
 are wandering about." 
 
 "There's nothing to talk about on that subject." 
 
 "There is. I don't want you to do anything, Mark, 
 please." 
 
 He resisted this with all his mental strength, in 
 silence, but she felt the force of his opposition. 
 
 "It's quite simple if you think of it. I don't mind 
 owning that at first I cared a great deal. Even if no 
 one else had known I should still have cared that I 
 couldn't explain things to Adam."
 
 322 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Madre, it won't bear thinking about!" 
 
 "I assure you it will, if you are patient. Well, I 
 have got over all that. People are really quite nice, 
 and the only thing that would really be unbearable, 
 would be to feel that I had had a bad time for nothing. 
 It would seem to me unendurable and cruel if no one 
 in the end is to reap any advantage from it. One 
 doesn't mind being a little unhappy if there is gain 
 somewhere to some one, but unproductive pain fright- 
 ens me. You are not going to make it unproduc- 
 tive?" 
 
 "Who gains anything but Stella?" 
 
 She looked down a little apologetically. 
 
 "I fear I am really not thinking of Stella, but of 
 Adam. I do want him to be happy." 
 
 "His happiness can't be worth much if it's built up 
 on a lie!" 
 
 "But it's worth something! And what it's worth 
 has to be saved for him. They are very happy together, 
 you know, Mark." 
 
 "Stella doesn't deserve it !" 
 
 "We have nothing to do with what Stella deserves 
 or not. At least I haven't; but I have got something 
 to do with saving Adam's happiness. He isn't the 
 kind of man who would ever find things the same if he 
 were told this now. I never saw that at the time; it 
 was stupid of me. I can't endure that he should have 
 his outlook spoilt in life, because I was stupid ! Mark, 
 it's a dreadful thing to damage those we love, however 
 good our intentions may have been." Her voice was 
 urgent, and quick with pain. 
 
 "I can't see how you, who are so straightforward, 
 can put up with his not knowing." 
 
 She looked very grave. 
 
 "It is not every one in the world who can stand up 
 against a truth, and keep their sense of proportion. 
 Adam couldn't! Many people can't, and if we fail to
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 323 
 
 keep that proportion in mind, then it's not the truth 
 we get, after all, but a distorted version of it, and 
 that's every bit as bad to live with, as a lie. Besides, 
 what is it, that you call a lie ? The fact that Adam be- 
 lieves something of me, that's not true, or that he 
 believes Stella to be a stronger woman than she is? 
 If it's the first, then by now he does not think very 
 much about it. If he regrets his old idea of me a little, 
 that's better than that he should forget the idea he 
 has now of his wife. Perhaps it's not a correct one, 
 but it's a good one. It errs on the right side. You 
 know, or you ought to know, that when we live with 
 people, it matters enormously what we think about 
 them. Because they will grow like it, more or less, 
 sooner, or later. Adam's idea of Stella is a nice one, 
 and I am quite sure she has it in her to develop along 
 that line; but if you insist on telling him this, he will 
 lose that idea, and she'll suffer." 
 
 Mark moved uneasily. He was thinking of Stella's 
 threat, and he knew that, against his will, he was suc- 
 cumbing to Madre's wishes. 
 
 "Suppose she were willing wished to tell Adam?" 
 he suggested. It was hardly a hope. He knew Stella 
 would clutch at Madre's wish. 
 
 "That would be different, so long as she were not 
 'forced to it. If she felt so sure of Adam, that she 
 was willing " she broke off. To her, too, that was 
 a desirable issue, but a vain one. 
 
 Mark shifted his ground. 
 
 "You forbid me to move?" 
 
 "There are only very few people in the world that 
 we have the right to forbid or order. I want you to 
 do nothing because you see it as I do." 
 
 He got up, and again moved about the room in his 
 restless way. She watched him with pleasure ; loving 
 his thin figure and brownness, and the air of self-con- 
 tainedness he conveyed.
 
 324 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "If only I had known, I would have written straight 
 to Adam," he groaned. 
 
 "And who would have built up their shattered hap- 
 piness then?" 
 
 "Why don't you and Stella trust Adam?" 
 
 She looked away. It was not a demand she wanted 
 to face. It was one thing to recognise the flaws in 
 Adam, another to acknowledge them to Mark. 
 
 "There are some sorts of things he would never 
 understand. In the first place it would have been com- 
 paratively easy, if Stella had been able to see it. I 
 had to choose for him, and I chose to give his son the 
 best start. Now it is much more complicated to ex- 
 plain." 
 
 He still fought for his way, but more feebly, and 
 presently he had only one arrow left to his bow. 
 
 "I got leave to come, you know, because I told Lord 
 Lugan the real reason. 
 
 "Wilfred Lugan ! And he let you come for that ?" 
 Her eyes shone faintly. 
 
 "He won't be best pleased that I've wasted the time 
 for nothing." 
 
 "I'll write to him. Dear Mark, I know I must seem 
 most horribly ungrateful." 
 
 Her eyes filled with tears, and he was conscience 
 stricken. Madre of old was not given to tears. 
 
 "Don't worry, Madre," he said hastily; "it shall be 
 as you like. You have done too much for me to ever 
 stand against you!" 
 
 "I've done nothing for you." 
 
 "You gave me a standard. It's a useful thing for a 
 man to have." 
 
 He did not look at her. He looked instead at an 
 African bowl, took it up, examined it, and set it 
 down. 
 
 "I got a nice bit of old Cashmere work lately. I 
 meant to bring it, but forgot to pack it. I'll send it
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 325 
 
 when I get back. By the way, Lord Lugan sent all 
 sorts of messages to you." 
 
 "Quite sure he did?" 
 
 Mark knitted his brow. 
 
 "Well, he began to, anyhow." 
 
 "And then stopped ! Yes ! Will you tell him I am 
 very glad you've got so good a chief, and he so good 
 a secretary?" 
 
 "I'll tell him verbatim!" 
 
 He began talking of India. Here was obvious effort, 
 but she soothed it out. When Bessington entered 
 they were talking naturally of any subject under the 
 sun but the one that had brought him six thousand 
 miles. 
 
 Bessington carried a note in his hand. 
 
 "Tired, Madre?" He looked at her critically, but 
 she shook her head. 
 
 "I've been taking Mrs. Preston for a drive," he went 
 on, with a quick glance at Mark, "and she's sent you 
 this note, in case you didn't feel up to seeing her. I 
 felt I ought to explain to her that I had found out 
 about how things were between you and her, without 
 your telling me or Mark!" 
 
 His tone was a little apologetic. 
 
 Madre was opening the note with shaking fingers. 
 The two men faced each other. 
 
 "Madre has been trying to convince me it's my duty 
 to hold my tongue over this miserable business." 
 
 "Yes, I know that's her view." 
 
 "You don't agree?" he asked sharply. 
 
 Bessington was silent. He was watching Madre, 
 who had read the note and was looking at him with a 
 wonderful look on her face. 
 
 They were all three silent a moment. 
 
 "Stella sets me free to act as I will," she said 
 softly. 
 
 Mark gazed blankly at Bessington.
 
 326 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "How did you do it?" 
 
 "Every one will answer some call or other. I was 
 lucky enough to hit on the right one, that's all." 
 
 Mark turned eagerly to Madre. 
 
 "This alters matters." 
 
 "Yes, indeed it does. You see how we misjudged 
 her! I am so thankful, Mark!" 
 
 "But you will be reasonable now?" he urged. 
 
 "I feel more than ever that's what I have been all 
 along." 
 
 Mark turned to Bessington as a last hope, but he 
 shook his head. 
 
 "Adam's turned up," he said slowly; "apparently 
 something went wrong on the Staff ride and when he 
 got back and found you both had gone, and that Madre 
 was ill, he came up to enquire. He's out in the garden 
 with Stella and Veronica." 
 
 Mark strode up to the window and looked out. It 
 was certainly Adam walking up and down and puffing 
 blight off Veronica's roses. All his old affection for 
 him struggled to the surface, fighting against his 
 sterner judgment. 
 
 Felicity leant forward with beseeching eyes. 
 
 "Dominic, do you think he would mind coming up 
 to see me just for a minute? I should so love to see 
 him again!" 
 
 "He shall come." 
 
 Mark turned quickly and went out of the room to 
 fetch him. 
 
 Felicity still held the note in her hand. 
 
 "How did you do it, Dominic?" 
 
 "Took it for granted that that was what she meant 
 doing all along." 
 
 She tore the note in little fragments and put it in 
 the envelope. 
 
 "I might have saved my labour," he groaned; "what 
 a waste!"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 327 
 
 "No, it's no waste. You know that ! It was splen- 
 did of you." 
 
 "You'd have gone on fretting else," he grumbled, 
 "and I had a faint hope you would use it. I trust you 
 know you have destroyed her only defence if Adam 
 ever gets to hear." 
 
 "Oh, Dominic, I never thought of that!" 
 
 "You can keep the bits anyhow, or give them to 
 her. And perhaps our word would go for something." 
 
 He stood up. 
 
 "You haven't the slightest right to see all these peo- 
 ple to-day, but I suppose you must have your way, as 
 usual." 
 
 Their footsteps were in the hall. He looked at her 
 anxiously. Her eyes were too bright, and her hands 
 shaking a little, but he could see it would not do to 
 disappoint her. 
 
 Then they entered Mark followed by Adam, and 
 Stella with Veronica. Stella's eyes flew to Bessington 
 as to some refuge. She was clearly afraid of what 
 was coming, and he crossed over to her to whisper a 
 word of reassurance. Adam went straight up to 
 Madre. It was a difficult situation for him, and he 
 faced it with his usual directness. 
 
 "Veronica tells me you have been seedy, Madre. 
 I'm most awfully sorry, but what on earth made you 
 go and live in the city? Have you turned finan- 
 cier ?" 
 
 He was most kind and anxious to set her at ease, 
 and blot out from her mind that last meeting of theirs. 
 The two men, listening, felt first helpless anger, and 
 then a gleam of humour in the situation became ap- 
 parent, at least to Bessington. Mark saw only that 
 reflected in his face. 
 
 "Camberley agrees with you, Adam. What was 
 this accident that brought you back? No, don't tell 
 me yet. I haven't seen Stella."
 
 328 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 She leant forward and held out her hands. Mark 
 turned away. 
 
 For the fraction of a second Stella hesitated. 
 
 "Dominic gave me your note. It was nice of you to 
 remember about it but I really don't want it now. 
 I'll keep it for a remembrance." 
 
 Stella took her hand, but found nothing to say. Her 
 whole attention was riveted on the need of not be- 
 traying herself. Adam intervened. 
 
 "Stella still doesn't believe in the General's accident, 
 and thinks it is something to do with baby that brought 
 me back. Her mind's at Camberley, and we must go 
 back and find it." 
 
 Felicity was conscious of a sudden throbbing in her 
 ears, and a sense of confusion and disappointment. 
 She looked appealingly at Dominic and heard herself 
 saying, in an odd voice hardly like her own : 
 
 "But I've hardly seen you at all, Adam!" 
 
 Bessington came between her and the others, and 
 said something that she did not catch, but they all 
 seemed to melt away, and only Veronica and Adam 
 were left, and the latter was saying: 
 
 "Just five minutes, Adam, so that she will feel she 
 has seen you." 
 
 Then she too was gone. 
 
 They were alone, and Adam half resented it, and 
 half accepted it as the shortest way out to set matters 
 on a better footing. He was in truth shocked at the 
 change in her since their last meeting, and it was none 
 of his business to think to what it might be due. He 
 had been too hasty and inconsiderate in the past. He 
 saw that, in a flash, now, though all these months it 
 had not occurred to him. 
 
 "Madre, I expect I said a great deal more than I 
 had any business to say the last time we met. You 
 must be kind, and remember I was a much harassed
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 329 
 
 man. You'll be your old generous self and make 
 allowance, won't you?" 
 
 "There's no need, my dear, I quite understand." 
 
 "I think there is need. It wasn't my business to 
 say anything that I did; and there's another thing I 
 want to tell you badly. That is, that I never told 
 any one about it, not even Stella. On my word of 
 honour, Madre!" 
 
 He was genuinely troubled and greatly in earnest. 
 The suspicion that she thought as Bessington had done, 
 hurt him most cruelly. 
 
 "Oh, I knew that, Adam!" 
 
 "I had to tell Fafner, because he came to see me; 
 but he did not learn it from me." 
 
 "It's ancient history, my dear. I know just how 
 the story got about. Don't worry. It doesn't matter. 
 How's your son? Tell me about him." 
 
 After all he was glad to have had the matter out, as 
 he thought. He had been annoyed at first at Mark 
 dragging Stella up here, but it turned out just right. 
 There was now no need to go on being on bad terms 
 with Madre, and he would much sooner be friends. 
 There was no doubt in his mind now that Madre had 
 taken the stuff because she was ill. She might even 
 have been ordered it. She hated being thought ill, and 
 wouldn't own to it. That was the reasonable answer 
 to it all. Having found it, he could dismiss it from 
 his mind. 
 
 "You ought to go abroad again, Madre. It would 
 pull you up. Remember how much better you were 
 after that Corsican trip?" 
 
 Yes, she remembered. 
 
 When the others came back they were discussing 
 travelling possibilities. 
 
 "I'm telling Madre she ought to think of that Black 
 Sea trip she used to talk about," he said to Veronica,
 
 330 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "It would do her no end of good to be planning some- 
 thing." 
 
 Bessington looked at her thoughtfully. 
 
 "What ever you may do about travelling to-morrow, 
 you are going to rest now," he said decidedly. "Come 
 along, you good people. Madre has had visitors 
 enough." 
 
 He walked down the path to the road with Adam, 
 where his little car was waiting. Stella, who was to 
 go back with her husband, was speaking to Mark. 
 
 "What's the matter with Madre exactly ?" demanded 
 Adam abruptly. 
 
 "Her heart has gone wrong. The doctor says she 
 must have had a big physical strain some few years 
 ago. She can't apparently remember anything about 
 it." 
 
 He looked rather fixedly at Adam, who, though he 
 looked perplexed, offered no enlightenment, but sum- 
 moned Stella, tucked her in and said good-bye to 
 Mark. 
 
 For a long time Adam drove silently, and Stella was 
 thankful. She wanted time to get command of her 
 own faculties, foreseeing possible pitfalls before her. 
 There were also Mark's last words to her to consider : 
 "It will be all right so long as you run straight, Stella. 
 That's all I have to say." 
 
 She felt that it was too much to say, and was irri- 
 tated with him, and glad that he had not accepted 
 Adam's invitation to put in his time with them. He 
 must go to Pieceminster first, he had said. 
 
 "I wonder what really made Madre bad to begin 
 with," remarked Adam at last. "The doctor says some 
 bad strain, but doctors are such idiots sometimes. 
 When we were at Bath at Fafner's, I remember, 
 Madre and I went for an excursion up Monkton Far- 
 ley one day, and a big stone slipped, or nearly slipped, 
 and she kept it from sliding down on to me, because
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 331 
 
 I was in its way. It would probably have smashed 
 me if she hadn't. I don't suppose, though, it could 
 have been that" 
 
 "She'd remember if it were," Stella answered 
 quickly. She did not want Adam to dwell on the sub- 
 ject of Madre. 
 
 "I suppose she would. It would be beastly if it 
 were all because she had done something for me. 
 We've made up our disagreement, Stella. I never 
 told you what it was about, and I'm not going to now. 
 You never asked." 
 
 "Other people told me. It doesn't matter now, 
 Adam." 
 
 "No. She says she knows how the story got about. 
 At least I never told that." 
 
 Stella wriggled impatiently. It was very distaste- 
 ful. She began to feel sorry for herself. She was 
 secure, but she had after all to pay some sort of price 
 for her security. However, on the whole she was glad 
 that Adam had made friends with Madre again. It 
 would be easier all round. The most curious thing 
 was, she held no malice against Dominic Bessington. 
 
 n 
 
 They were alone again, and for a brief minute Bes- 
 sington was alive to a great stillness and peace in the 
 room, that cut like the sharp edge of a knife between 
 them and the outside world with its multiple of inter- 
 ests and conflicting aims. 
 
 It was only momentarily as Time counts with mor- 
 tals Time, who is jealous, catches his prisoners back 
 sharply into his narrow limits, and these swift glances 
 into the regions of true values must cramp them- 
 selves into those limits, or fail our perceptions alto- 
 gether,
 
 332 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Dominic !" 
 
 It was Felicity herself who pointed the limit 
 
 "Dominic, that was really an inspiration of Adam's 5 
 Do find me the guide books I left with you." 
 
 He obeyed her mechanically. Veronica, who was 
 sitting by the window, looked up as if she would 
 speak, and then refrained. There was no use in pro- 
 testing. Madre and Dominic would settle things, and 
 they must know better than she did. Should she, or 
 should she not, put Christopher on to more substantial 
 food ? She gave the problem her whole attention. It 
 was an important matter and it was for her decision 
 alone. 
 
 Dominic found the books and brought them in. 
 Madre sat up quickly, with a little flush of colour in 
 her face. She turned the leaves over quickly to one 
 heavily scored page. There were some loose sheets of 
 paper in it, covered with writing. 
 
 "I worked it all out years ago. I always meant to 
 go there." 
 
 "Where?" he asked. 
 
 "To Trebizond and Turkey in Asia. Dominic, 
 couldn't you take a real holiday and come too ?" 
 
 "I thought it was too adventuresome a journey for 
 Veronica," he answered, his thoughts leaping back to 
 some dim recollection of idle words spoken on this 
 same subject years ago. 
 
 "But you would be with her to be responsible! 
 Veronica dear, you would like it, wouldn't you ?" 
 
 "Like what, Madre?" 
 
 "To go to the Black Sea. The trip we used to talk 
 about?" 
 
 "There's Christopher." 
 
 "Wouldn't he be all right with the Masters?" 
 
 Veronica looked doubtful. 
 
 "Why shouldn't Dorninjc and you go by your-r 
 selves?"
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 333 
 
 "I am not going without you, Veronica," said Domi- 
 nic quietly. 
 
 "But you will come !" Madre's voice was eager. "Oh, 
 Dominic, you don't know how I have longed to make 
 that trip. It's all new. We can really do it quite 
 comfortably, for I've spent nothing the last year. 
 There's a strange, beautiful country hidden away there 
 that hardly any one knows. I've read of it, and I met 
 some one who had lived out there, and it fired me to 
 hear of it. Think of the evenings there on the fringe 
 of things the stars and the desert. Think of the quiet 
 of the tents, the little lights of a camp, and the strange 
 wonder of a land that has been !" 
 
 The vision of it was with her in her eyes, so that 
 though she was looking at Dominic, she hardly saw 
 him. The call had sounded for her at last, and she 
 responded with every fibre of her being. 
 
 "We can send to Ruman to-morrow. Don't you 
 know him ? He lives in Fleet Street, and he knows all 
 there is to know about eastern travel. He'll get us 
 the right men and tell us what's wanted. I want to 
 go by the old caravan route. It's still the trade way, 
 you know ; I have all the notes." 
 
 Her eyes were shining with excitement, and her 
 eagerness was infectious; but Dominic still held his 
 peace. Veronica came and leant over the table by her 
 mother. She too had been momentarily carried back 
 into the interest of other days. 
 
 "It's all that Mr. Cleaver's doings. I wonder if he 
 is still at Baiburt. Do you remember how we liked 
 his wife?" 
 
 They fell to talking of recollections that meant noth- 
 ing to Bessington. He pushed back his chair and 
 watched them. He, too, was thinking. In his ear 
 there were two voices: 
 
 "A perfectly quiet life in the country, doing noth' 
 
 ing"
 
 334 FELICITY CROFTON 
 
 "Don't let her think herself an invalid. Let her do 
 what she sets her heart on doing." 
 
 Which was he to follow? 
 
 Common sense, which said, "Here's a woman with 
 a strained heart, who, the doctors say, should do noth- 
 ing for the rest of her life, and who only really lives 
 when she is doing things, moving, seeing and enjoying 
 life, as only she can enjoy it. Is she to enjoy it to the 
 end, when ever that end may be, or spend her time 
 warding off that end in dull stagnation?" 
 
 He thought of his father and that weary life on the 
 veldt. What gain had he found in his spun-out years ? 
 Was life itself, cut off from its natural atmosphere, 
 worth living? His heart thrilled to see Madre again 
 full of eager interest, her energy flashing out, if only 
 for a time. 
 
 Why shouldn't it last? 
 
 "Don't set limits in your thoughts to God's power." 
 Anyhow, his word should not quench this new found 
 energy. 
 
 The two voices sunk into the background ; what re- 
 mained uppermost in his mind was the knowledge that 
 he understood her too completely, shared with her too 
 exact a sympathy of soul, to stand between her and her 
 desire. 
 
 Veronica must go too, of course. 
 
 She would hate leaving the child. He did not like 
 that himself, but Christopher would be safe. Surely 
 they could make some sacrifice for one they loved, 
 who was always ready to sacrifice herself for 
 others. 
 
 In his heart he knew that for him it was no sacri- 
 fice, for he too was eager for the star lit nights, the 
 clean cold air of the desert and the outposts of civili- 
 sation eager to watch her drinking it in, and to be 
 with her there. 
 
 Veronica's voice broke in on him,
 
 FELICITY CROFTON 335 
 
 "I don't think you know, Madre, that Dr. Clifford 
 will like it." 
 
 Felicity looked up at him quickly. The moment 
 of decision was on him. She would abide by it, he 
 knew, and he knew it was not in him to quench the 
 eagerness of her spirit. 
 
 "Dominic, you understand better than doctors. You 
 won't be unkind, will you?" 
 
 He looked into her eyes, that smiled at him, and he 
 saw she understood all that was involved, and had 
 weighed the case for herself. He saw the courage and 
 fire of her inextinguished youth flickering to life again, 
 and he smiled back: 
 
 "All right, Madre. We'll go!" 
 
 END
 
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