The Reason Why

Chapter 9

Society was absolutely flabbergasted when it read in the _Morning Post_

the announcement of Lord Tancred's engagement! No one had heard a word

about it. There had been talk of his going to Canada, and much chaff

upon that subject--so ridiculous, Tancred emigrating! But of a

prospective bride the most gossip-loving busybody at White's had never

heard! It fell like a bombshell. And Lady Highford, as she read the

news, clenched her pointed teeth, and gave a little squeal like a stoat.

So he had drifted beyond her, after all! He had often warned her he

would, at the finish of one of those scenes she was so fond of creating.

It was true then, when he had told her before Cowes that everything must

be over. She had thought his silence since had only been sulking! But

who was the creature? "Countess Shulski." Was it a Polish or Hungarian

name? "Daughter of the late Maurice Grey." Which Grey was that? "Niece

of Francis Markrute, Esquire, of Park Lane." Here was the reason--money!

How disgusting men were! They would sell their souls for money. But the

woman should suffer for this, and Tristram, too, if she could manage it!

Then she wept some tears of rage. He was so adorably good looking and

had been such a feather in her cap, although she had never been really

sure of him. It was a mercy her conduct had always been of such an

immaculate character--in public--no one could say a word. And now she

must act the dear, generous, congratulating friend.

So she had a dose of sal volatile and dressed, with extra care, to lunch

at Glastonbury House. There she might hear all the details; only

Ethelrida was so superior, and uninterested in news or gossip.

There was a party of only five assembled, when she arrived--she was

always a little late. The Duke and Lady Ethelrida, Constance Radcliffe,

and two men: an elderly politician, and another cousin of the family.

She could certainly chatter about Tristram, and hear all she could.

They were no sooner seated than she began:

"Is not this wonderful news about your nephew, Duke? No one expected it

of him just now, though I as one of his best friends have been urging

him to marry, for the last two years. Dear Lady Tancred must be so

enchanted."

"I am sure you gave him good counsel," said the Duke, screwing his

eyeglass which he wore on a long black ribbon into his whimsical old

blue eye. "But Tristram's a tender mouth, and a bit of a bolter--got to

ride him on the snaffle, not the curb."

Lady Highford looked down at her plate, while she gave an answer quite

at variance with her own methods.

"Snaffle or curb, no one would ever try to guide Lord Tancred! And what

is the charming lady like? You all know her, of course?"

"Why, no," said His Grace. "The uncle, Mr. Markrute, dined here the

other night. He's been very useful to the Party, in a quiet way and

seems a capital fellow--but Ethelrida and I have never met the niece. Of

course, no one has been in town since the season, and she was not here

then. We only came up, like you, for Flora's wedding, and go down

to-morrow."

"This is thrilling!" said Lady Highford. "An unknown bride! Have you not

even heard what she is like--young or old? A widow always sounds so

attractive!"

"I am told that she is perfectly beautiful," said Lady Ethelrida from

the other side of the table--there had been a pause--"and Tristram seems

so happy. She is quite young, and very rich."

She had always been amiably friendly and indifferent to Laura Highford.

It was Ethelrida's way to have no likes and dislikes for the general

circle of her friends; her warm attachment was given to so very few, and

the rest were just all of a band. Perhaps if she felt anything definite

it was a tinge on the side of dislike for Laura. Thinking to please

Tristram at the time she had asked her to this, her birthday party, when

they had met at Cowes in August, and now she was faced with the problem

how to put her off, since Tristram and his bride would be coming. She

saw the glint in the light hazel eyes as she described the fianc and

her kind heart at once made her determine to turn the conversation.

After all, it was perfectly natural for poor Laura to have been in love

with Tristram--no one could be more attractive--and, of course, it must

hurt her--this marriage. She would reserve the "putting off," until they

left the dining-room and she could speak to her alone. So with her

perfect tact and easy grace she diverted the current of conversation to

the political situation, and luncheon went on.

But this was not what Lady Highford had come for. She wanted to hear

everything she could about her rival, in order to lay her plans; and the

moment Ethelrida was engaged with the politician and the Duke had

turned to Mrs. Radcliffe, she tackled the cousin, in a lower voice.

He, Jimmy Danvers, had only read what she had, that morning. He had seen

Tristram at the Turf on Tuesday after lunch--the day before

yesterday--and he had only talked of Canada--and not a word of a lady

then. It was a bolt from the blue. "And when I telephoned to the old boy

this morning," he said, "and asked him to take me to call upon his

damsel to-day, he told me she had gone to Paris and would not be back

until a week before the wedding!"

"How very mysterious!" piped Laura. "Tristram is off to Paris, too,

then, I suppose?"

"He did not say; he seemed in the deuce of a hurry and put the receiver

down."

"He is probably only doing it for money, poor darling boy!" she said

sympathetically. "It was quite necessary for him."

"Oh, that's not Tristram's measure," Sir James Danvers interrupted.

"He'd never do anything for money. I thought you knew him awfully well,"

he added, surprised. Apprehension of situations was not one of his

strong qualities.

"Of course I do!" Laura snapped out and then laughed. "But you men!

Money would tempt any of you!"

"You may bet your last farthing, Lady Highford, Tristram is in

love--crazy, if you ask me--he'd not have been so silent about it all

otherwise. The Canada affair was probably because she was playing the

poor old chap,--and now she's given in; and that, of course, is

chucked."

Money, as the motive, Lady Highford could have borne, but, to hear

about love drove her wild! Her little pink and white face with its

carefully arranged childish setting suddenly looked old and strained,

while her eyes grew yellow in the light.

"They won't be happy long, then!" she said. "Tristram could not be

faithful to any one."

"I don't think he's ever been in love before, so we can't judge," the

blundering cousin continued, now with malice prepense. "He's had lots of

little affairs, but they have only been 'come and go.'"

Lady Highford crumbled her bread and then turned to the Duke--there was

nothing further to be got out of this quarter. Finally luncheon came to

an end, and the three ladies went up to Ethelrida's sitting-room. Mrs.

Radcliffe presently took her leave to catch a train, so the two were

left alone.

"I am so looking forward to your party, dear Ethelrida," Lady Highford

cooed. "I am going back to Hampshire to-morrow, but at the end of the

month I come up again and will be with you in Norfolk on the 2nd."

"I was just wondering," said Lady Ethelrida, "if, after all, you would

not be bored, Laura? Your particular friends, the Sedgeworths, have had

to throw us over--his father being dead. It will be rather a family sort

of collection, and not so amusing this year, I am afraid. Em and Mary,

Tristram and his new bride,--and Mr. Markrute, the uncle--and the rest

as I told you."

"Why, my dear child, it sounds delightful! I shall long to meet the new

Lady Tancred! Tristram and I are such dear friends, poor darling boy! I

must write and tell him how delighted I am with the news. Do you know

where he is at the moment?"

"He is in London, I believe. Then you really will stick to us and not be

bored? How sweet of you!" Lady Ethelrida said without a change in her

level voice while her thoughts ran: "It is very plucky of Laura; or, she

has some plan! In any case I can't prevent her coming now, and perhaps

it is best to get it over. But I had better warn Tristram, surprises are

so unpleasant."

Then, after a good deal of gush about "dear Lady Tancred's" prospective

happiness in having a daughter-in-law, and "dear Tristram," Lady

Highford's motor was announced, and she went.

And when she had gone Lady Ethelrida sat down and wrote her cousin a

note. Just to tell him in case she did not see him before she went back

to the country to-morrow that her list, which she enclosed, was made up

for her November party, but if he would like any one else for his bride

to meet, he was to say so. She added that some friends had been to

luncheon, and among them Laura Highford, who had said the nicest things

and wished him every happiness.

Lady Ethelrida was not deceived about these wishes, but she could do no

more.

The Duke came into her room, just as she was finishing, and warmed

himself by her wood fire.

"The woman is a cat, Ethelrida," he said without any preamble. These two

understood each other so well, they often seemed to begin in the middle

of a sentence, of which no outsider could grasp the meaning.

"I am afraid she is, Papa. I have just been writing to Tristram, to let

him know she still insists upon coming to the shoot. She can't do

anything there, and they may as well get it over. She will have to be

civil to the new Lady Tancred in our house."

"Whew!" whistled the Duke, "you may have an exciting party. You had

better go and leave our cards to-day on the Countess Shulski, and

another of mine, as well, for the uncle. We'll have to swallow the whole

lot, I suppose."

"I rather like Mr. Markrute, Papa," Ethelrida said. "I talked to him the

other night for the first time; he is extremely intelligent. We ought

not to be so prejudiced, perhaps, just because he is a foreigner, and in

the City. I've asked him on the 2nd, too--you don't mind? I will leave

the note to-day; Tristram particularly wished it."

"Then we'll have to make the best of it, pet. I daresay you are right,

and one ought not to be prejudiced about anything, in these days."

And then he patted his daughter's smoothly brushed head, and went out

again.

Lady Ethelrida drove in the ducal carriage (the Duke insisted upon a

carriage, in London), to Park Lane, and was handing her cards to her

footman to leave, when Francis Markrute himself came out of the door.

His whole face changed; it seemed to grow younger. He was a fairly tall

man, and distinguished looking. He came forward and said: "How do you

do," through the brougham window.

Alas! his niece had left that morning _en route_ for Paris--_trousseaux_

and feminine business, but he was so delighted to have had this chance

of a few words with her--Lady Ethelrida.

"I was leaving a note to ask you to come and shoot with my father at

Montfitchet, Mr. Markrute," she said, "on the 2nd of November. Tristram

says he hopes they will be back from the honeymoon in time to join us,

too."

"I shall be delighted, and my niece will be delighted at your kindness

in calling so soon."

Then they said a few more polite things and the financier finished

by:--"I am taking the great liberty of having the book, which I told you

about, rebound--it was in such a tattered condition, I was ashamed to

send it to you--do not think I had forgotten. I hope you will accept

it?"

"I thought you only meant to lend it to me because it is out of print

and I cannot buy it. I am so sorry you have had this trouble," Lady

Ethelrida said, a little stiffly. "Bring it to the shoot. It will

interest me to see it but you must not give it to me." And then she

smiled graciously; and he allowed her to say good-bye, and drive on. And

as he turned into Grosvenor Street he mused,

"I like her exquisite pride; but she shall take the book--and many other

things--presently."

* * * * *

Meanwhile Zara Shulski had arrived at Bournemouth. She had started early

in the morning, and she was making a careful investigation of the house.

The doctor appeared all that was kind and clever, and his wife gentle

and sweet. Mirko could not have a nicer home, it seemed. Their little

girl was away at her grandmother's for the next six weeks, they said,

but would be enchanted to have a little boy companion. Everything was

arranged satisfactorily. Zara stayed the night, and next day, having

wired to Mimo to meet her at the station, she returned to London.

They talked in the Waterloo waiting-room; poor Mimo seemed so glad and

happy. He saw her and her small bag into a taxi. She was going back to

her uncle's, and was to take Mirko down next day, and, on the following

one, start for Paris.

"But I can't go back to Park Lane without seeing Mirko, now," she said.

"I did not tell my uncle what train I was returning by. There is plenty

of time so I will go and have tea with you at Neville Street. It will be

like old times, we will get some cakes and other things on the way, and

boil the kettle on the fire."

So Mimo gladly got in with her and they started. He had a new suit of

clothes and a new felt hat, and looked a wonderfully handsome foreign

gentleman; his manner to women was always courteous and gallant. Zara

smiled and looked almost happy, as they arranged the details of their

surprise tea party for Mirko.

At that moment there passed them in Whitehall a motorcar going very

fast, the occupant of which, a handsome young man, caught the most

fleeting glimpse of them--hardly enough to be certain he recognized

Zara. But it gave him a great start and a thrill.

"It cannot be she," he said to himself, "she went to Paris yesterday;

but if it is--who is the man?"

He altered his plans, went back to his rooms, and sat moodily down in

his favorite chair--an unpleasant, gnawing uncertainty in his heart.