CHAPTER SEVEN.
THE MATCH IS STRUCK.
Daphne sat rather dizzily by her father's side, holding his handtightly and gazing straight before her. A sudden turn, and lo! beforeher lay a great break in the road. She had arrived at one of life'sjumping-off places. No wonder she gripped her father's hand.
Now, for a young girl to consent to a marriage with a man considerablyolder than herself, a man whom she hardly knows and does not love, isrightly regarded as a most unromantic proceeding; and since romance isthe sugar of this rather acrid existence of ours, we are almostunanimous in discouraging such alliances. And yet there are two sidesto the question. A loveless marriage may lead to the ruin of twolives: on the other hand, it introduces into the proceedings anelement of business and common-sense all too rare in such enterprises.It is true that the newly united pair dream no dreams and see novisions. Each comes to the other devoid of glamour or false pretences.But if a couple find marriage feasible under such circumstances, thechances are that they are of a type which stands in no need of thathighly intoxicating stimulant, Passion. They are simply people whorealise at the outset, instead of later on, that life is a campaignand not a picnic; and each sees in the other not so much an idol or aplaything as a trusty ally. For such, mutual respect cannot but springinto being, and will in all likelihood grow into mutual love; andmutual love which matures from such beginnings as these is tenthousand times more to be desired than the frothy headachy stuff whichwe quaff in such reckless magnums in our thirsty youth.
On the other hand, marriages made on earth (as opposed to what arepopularly regarded as the celestial variety) can and often do lead toshipwreck. Granted. Still, marriage is a leap in the dark in any case,and humdrum philosophers must at least be excused for suggesting thatone may as well endeavour to illuminate this hazardous feat of agilityby the help of the Torch of Reason as not. But of course no one everagrees with such suggestions. Romance and Sentiment cry, "Never!Shame! Monstrous!" And most of us very humanly, naturally, and rightlyassociate ourselves in the most cordial manner with the opinions ofthis old-established and orthodox firm.
We left Daphne gazing into the study fire, with a silent man on eitherside of her and Mr Dawks' head upon her knee. She looked perfectlycomposed, but something was rocking and trembling within her.
It is certainly disconcerting, even for the most self-possessed ofmaidens, to realise, suddenly and without warning, that there aredeeper things than the domestic affections. It is still moredisconcerting when an individual whom Nature might with perfectpropriety have appointed your father, and whom you with feminineperversity have adopted as a son, suddenly kicks over the traces andsuggests as a compromise that he should occupy the intermediateposition of husband.
Brian Vereker sat smiling, happy and confident. The fact that Sir JohnCarr was forty-two and Daphne barely twenty had not occurred to him.All he realised was that the little boy who had been his fag atschool, who had lit his fire and made his toast in return foroccasional help with caesuras and quadratic equations, had grown upinto a man, and desired to marry his daughter. The whole thing seemedso natural, so appropriate. He glowed with humble pride thatProvidence should so interest itself in his little household. Hebeamed upon the young people.
Suddenly Daphne turned to him, and released her hold on his hand.
"Dad, will you leave us for a little?" she said. "I want to talk toSir John."
The Rector rose.
"By all means," he said. "Now I come to think of it, the presence of athird party is not essential to a proposal of marriage. I am _detrop_! I shall be upstairs."
He laughed boyishly, and left them.
When the door closed Daphne turned to her suitor.
"So you want me for your wife?" she said, with the air of one openinga debate.
"I do," said Juggernaut. It was the first time he had spoken since sheentered the room.
"And you went and saw Dad about it," continued Daphne, ratherunexpectedly.
"Yes. As I understood you were not of age, I asked his permission tospeak to you. He rather took the words out of my mouth by calling youin and telling you himself."
"I'm glad to hear you say that," said Daphne. "I thought at first thething was being arranged over my head, and that I wasn't to beconsulted at all. But you _were_ going to ask me properly, weren'tyou? We prefer that, you know." She spoke for her sex.
Juggernaut nodded.
"Only Dad rushed in and spoiled it--eh?"
"That is correct," said Juggernaut.
"Well, begin now," said Daphne calmly. "A girl doesn't like to bedone out of a proposal. It would be something to tell the kids aboutafterwards, anyhow."
Juggernaut became conscious of a distinctly more lenient attitudetowards the Rector's precipitancy.
"Now that you know," he began, "a formal proposal would sound ratherdull and superfluous, wouldn't it?"
"Perhaps you are right," said Daphne, half regretfully. "Dad hasspoiled it for me, after all!"
Presently--
"I wonder _why_ you want to marry me," she mused, fondling Mr Dawks'ears. "I suppose you have come to the conclusion that it is time youhad some one to look after all those houses and servants of yours. Isthat it?"
Juggernaut regarded her curiously for a moment.
"Perhaps," he said.
"You are not in love with me, of course," continued the practical MissVereker, ticking off the unassailable features of the case. "At least,I suppose not--I don't see how you possibly could be. It's rather hardfor me to tell, though, because I don't quite know the meaning of theword. I love Dad and the boys, and Cilly, and Nicky, and MrDawks--_don't_ I, Dawks, dear?--and I would do _anything_ to save thempain or unhappiness. But I suppose that's not the sort of love thatpeople call love. It seems to have been left out of my composition,or perhaps it hasn't cropped up yet. Now Cilly--I am her exactopposite--Cilly is always in love with some man or other. By the way,she told me last night when I went to dry her hair that she had justfallen in love with you, so evidently you aren't too old after all!Would it do as well if you married Cilly?" Daphne inquiredtentatively.
"I'm afraid not," said Juggernaut.
"Well, perhaps you are right. Cilly's a darling, but she is very youngyet," agreed the time-worn Miss Vereker. "But"--she broke offshort--"it seems to me that I am doing most of the talking. Would youcare to address the meeting--say a few words? I think I should like tohear a bit of that proposal after all. So far, all I know is that youwant to marry me. And _that_ I got from Dad. Now--I'm listening!"
Daphne leaned back in her big chair and smiled upon her suitor quitematernally. There was something pathetic in her childish freedom fromembarrassment or constraint under circumstances which usually test the_sang-froid_ of man and maid alike. Perhaps Sir John was struck bythis, for his eyes suddenly softened and the lines about his mouthrelaxed.
"You needn't say you love me, or anything like that, if you don't,"supplemented Daphne. "I shall understand."
Sir John's eyes resumed their normal appearance.
"As you seem to prefer to keep matters on a strictly businessfooting," he said, "I will come to the point at once. If you willmarry me I think I can make you tolerably happy and comfortable. I ama prosperous man, I suppose, and as my wife you would find a certainsocial position awaiting you. Any desires of yours in the way ofhouses, clothes, jewels, and so on, you could always gratify, withinlimits, at will. I mention these things, not because I think they willinfluence your decision--I should not want you for a wife if I thoughtthey would--but because I feel that every woman is entitled to a plainstatement of fact about the man who wishes to marry her. Too often,under the delusion that the sheer romance of a love-affair wipes allmundane considerations off the slate, she puts up with the wildest offictions. However, I may point out to you that acceptance of myworldly goods would enable you to carry out certain schemes that Iknow lie very near your heart. You could send Ally to the University.You could have Cilly finished, or whatever the
expression is, andbring her out yourself. And you could pay for a curate for yourfather. You can have all the money you want for these enterprises byasking for it; or if you prefer something more definite I would settlean annual sum upon you--say a thousand a-year."
A thousand a-year! Daphne closed her eyes giddily. Before her arose avision of a renovated Rectory--a sort of dimity Palace Beautiful--withan enlarged kitchen-boiler, new carpets, and an extra servant. She sawher father bending happily over his sermon while a muscular youngChristian tramped round the parish. She saw Ally winning first classesat Cambridge, and Cilly taking London drawing-rooms by storm. Herpulse quickened. But Juggernaut was still speaking.
"On the other hand, I ought to warn you that I am a hard man--atleast, I believe that is my reputation--with somewhat rigid notions onthe subject of _quid_ and _quo_. I would endeavour to supply my wifewith every adjunct to her happiness; but--I should expect her inreturn to stand by my side and do her duty as my wife so long as weboth lived. They say of me that I never make a mistake in choosing alieutenant. Well, the instinct which has served me so often in thatrespect is prompting me now; and it is because I see in you a womanwho would stand by her husband as a matter of duty alone, quite apartfrom"--he hesitated--"from inclination, that I ask you to marry me."
Daphne gazed at him. Her heart was bumping gently. There wassomething rather fine about this proposed bargain--a compact between aman and a woman to stand by one another through thick and thin, notbecause they liked doing so but because it was playing the game.Daphne felt proud, too, that this master of men should have adjudgedher--a woman--to be of the true metal. But she was honest to the end.
"You would give all that to have me for your wife," she said.
Sir John bowed his head with grave courtesy.
"I would," he said simply.
"I'm not worth it," said Daphne earnestly. "I am only accustomed tolooking after our little Rectory and the family. I might make afearful mess of all your grand houses. Supposing I did? What if Iwasn't up to your mark? How if your friends didn't like me? It wouldbe too late to send me back," she pointed out, rather piteously.
Sir John's features did not relax.
"I am willing to take the risk," was all he said.
There was a long pause.
"Let me think," said Daphne suddenly and feverishly.
She slipped out of her chair on to the hearthrug, and lay before thetwinkling fire with her arms clasped round the neck of theever-faithful Mr Dawks and her face buried in his rough coat. Therewas a tense silence, accentuated by the amiable thumping of Dawks'tail. Sir John Carr sat in his chair like a graven image, looking downupon the slim lithe figure at his feet. Daphne just then was a sightto quicken the blood in a man's veins, but Juggernaut never moved.Perhaps he realised, for all his lack of lover's graces and his harshmethods of wooing, something of the solemnity of the moment. A child,without experience, with nothing but her own untutored instincts toguide her, was standing at her cross-roads. Would she go forward withthe man whose path through life had so suddenly converged on hers, orfare on alone? And the man--what were his feelings? None could havetold by outward view. He simply waited--sitting very still.
At last Daphne sat up, and shook back her hair from her eyes.
"We'll leave it to Mr Dawks," she said. "Dawks, old boy, shall we _do_it?"
The house waited in breathless silence for Mr Dawks' casting vote.That affectionate and responsive arbitrator, hearing himselfaddressed, raised his head, licked his mistress's hand, and belabouredthe floor with his tail in a perfect ecstasy of cordiality.
Daphne turned to the man in the chair.
"All right!" she said. "It's a bargain. I'll marry you."