CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
A SUDDEN RESOLVE.
The next morning brought a letter from the farm bidding Claire welcomeas soon as she chose to arrive, but there was no second letter on thetable. Claire had not realised how confidently she had expected itspresence, until her heart sank with a sick, heavy faintness as shelifted the one envelope, and looked in vain for a second.
Erskine had not written. Did that mean that he had taken her hastyanswer as final, and would make no further appeal? She had read of menwho had boasted haughtily that no girl should have an opportunity ofrefusing them _twice_; that the woman who did not know her own mind wasno wife for them, but like every other lover she felt her own case to beunique. Driven to answer in a moment of intolerable irritation, whatelse could she have said?
But he had not written! What did that mean? At the moment ofdiscovering her departure, Erskine had been consumed with anger, butafterwards, had his mother's counsels prevailed? Had he repentedhimself of his hasty impulse? Would the days pass on, and the months,and the years, and leave her like Cecil, solitary, apart?
Claire made a pretence at eating her breakfast, and then, too restlessto stay indoors, put on her hat, and went out to roam the streets untilit should be time to visit Sophie in her hospital.
Two hours later she returned and packed up not only her entire wardrobe,but the whole of her personal possessions. In the course of her walkthere had come to her one of those curious contradictory impulses whichare so characteristic of a woman's nature. Having poured out her heartin grief because Erskine had neither written nor followed her to town,she was now restlessly impatient to make communication impossible, andto bury herself where she could not be found. Before leaving the houseshe made Lizzie happy by a present of money, accompanied by quite agoodly bundle of clothing, after which she interviewed the landlady,gave notice that she no longer needed the rooms, and wrote out a chequein payment of all claims. Then a taxi was summoned, the various boxespiled on top, and another chapter of life had come to an end.
Claire drove to the station, whence she proposed to take a lateafternoon train to the farm, deposited her boxes in the left luggageoffice, and strolled listlessly towards the great bookstall under theclock. Another hour remained to be whiled away before she could startfor the hospital; she would buy a book, sit in the waiting-room, and tryto bury herself in its pages. She strolled slowly down the length ofthe stall, her eyes passing listlessly from one pile of books toanother, finding little interest in them, and even less in the men andwomen who stood by her side. As Mrs Fanshawe would have said, "No onewas in town"; even school-mistresses had flown from the region of bricksand mortar. If she had thought about it at all, Claire would have saidthat there was no one she _could_ meet, but suddenly a hand grasped herarm, and brought her to a halt. She started violently, and for aninstant her heart leapt with a wild glad hope. It was not ErskineFanshawe who confronted her, however, but a girl clad in a tweed costumewith a cloth cap to match, on the side of which a sprig of heather wasfastened by a gold brooch fashioned in the shape of a thistle. Inbewildered surprise Claire recognised the brown eyes and round freckledface of Janet Willoughby, whom she had believed to be hundreds of milesaway, in the highlands of Scotland.
"Just come back," Janet explained. "The weather was impossible.Nothing but sheets of rain. I got tired, and came back to pay somevisits in the south." She hesitated, then asked a sudden question."Are you busy? Going anywhere at once? Could you spare half an hour?We might have lunch together in the refreshment room!"
"Yes. No. I'd like to. I've had no lunch." Claire falterednervously, whereupon Janet turned to her maid, who was standing near,dressing-bag in hand, and gave a few quick instructions.
"Get a taxi, Ross, and take all the things home. The car can wait forme. I'll follow later."
The maid disappeared, and the two girls made their way across the openspace. Both looked nervous and ill at ease, both dreaded the coming_tete-a-tete_, yet felt that it was a thing to be faced. Janet led theway to a table in the farthest corner of the room, and they talkedtrivialities until the ordered dishes were set on the table, and thewaiter had taken his departure. Claire had ordered coffee, and drankeagerly, hoping that the physical refreshment would help to steady hernerves. Janet played with her knife and fork, and said, without lookingup--
"You have left the Fanshawes, then! I heard that you were staying on."
"Yes. Yesterday I--came back."
The very lameness of the answer made it significant. Janet's freckledface turned noticeably pale.
"Erskine went straight home after he left Scotland?"
"Yes."
"And before he arrived, you had promised to stay on?"
"Mrs Fanshawe asked me, before he came, if I could stay for anotherweek, and I was very glad to accept. I had no other engagement."
"And then?"
"Oh, then things were different. She didn't need company, and--and--things happened. My friend, Miss Rhodes--"
Janet waved aside "my friend, Miss Rhodes," with an impatient hand.
"And Erskine? What did _he_ say to your leaving?"
The colour flamed in Claire's cheek; she stammered in hopelessconfusion, and, in the midst of her stammering, Janet laid both hands onthe table, and, leaning forward so that the two faces were only a fewinches apart, spoke a few startling words--
"Has he--_proposed_ to you? I must know! You must tell me!"
It was a command, rather than an appeal, and Claire automaticallyreplied--
"He--he did! Yes, but--"
"And you?"
"I--couldn't. I said no!"
"You said no! Erskine asked you to be his wife, and you _refused_?"Janet stared in incredulous bewilderment. A spark of indignation shonein her brown eyes. "But why? You care for him. Any girl might beproud to marry Erskine Fanshawe. _Why_?"
"I can't tell you. It's so difficult. His mother--she didn't want me.She would have hated it. She almost turned me out."
"His _mother_! Mrs Fanshawe!" Janet's voice was full of an ineffablesurprise. "You refused Erskine because of _her_ prejudice? But she isalways changing; she is the most undependable woman on the face of theearth! She is charming, and I'm fond of her, but I should not take heradvice about a pair of gloves. Nothing that she could say wouldpossibly have the slightest influence on my life. She's irresponsible;she sees entirely from her own standpoint. And Erskine--Erskine is arock!" She paused, pressing her lips together to still their trembling,and Claire answered with a note of apology in her voice.
"Janet, I _know_! Don't think I don't appreciate him. Wait till youhear how it happened... He followed me to the station; it was the verylast moment, just as the train was starting. There was time for onlyone word, and--I was sore and angry!"
Janet looked at her, a long, searching look.
"It's curious, but I always knew this would come. When I saw yousitting together at supper that first night, I knew then. All the timeI knew it in my heart, but on the surface it seemed ridiculous, for younever met!"
"Never that you did not know, except one time in the park. There wasnothing to tell you, Janet; nothing to hide."
"No. So he said. We talked of you in Scotland, you know, and it wasjust as I thought--a case of recognising each other at first sight. Hesaid the moment he saw you you seemed different from everyone else, andhe hoped and believed that you felt the same. That is how people oughtto love; the right way, when both are attached, both feel the same...And it is so rare. Yet you _refused_!"
"Would you marry a man if his family disapproved?"
"Oh, yes! I should not be marrying the family. I'd be sorry, ofcourse, but I'd make up my mind that in time I'd make them fall in lovewith me, too. What are you going to do now?"
"Going away. Into the country. I want to be quiet, and think."
Janet did not ask the address. She sat silent, staring into space, thenasked a sudden irrelevant quest
ion:
"Did he send you the cuckoo clock?"
"I--think so! It had no name, but it came from Switzerland while he wasthere. He has never referred to it since."
"Ah!" Janet began pulling on her gloves. "I knew that, too. I _felt_that he had sent it. Well! I must go. It will all come right, ofcourse, and you will be very happy. I've known Erskine so long, and hiswife is sure to be happy." Janet forced an artificial little laugh."You will be engaged before me, after all, but I dare say I shall soonfollow suit. It's nice to be loved. As one grows older, oneappreciates it more. And Captain Humphreys is a good man."
"He is splendid! I loved his face. And he is so devoted to you. Itwas quite beautiful to watch him," cried Claire, thankful from her heartto be able to enthuse honestly.
A load was lifted from her heart by Janet's prophecy of her own future.For the moment it had no doubt been made more out of bravado than anyreal conviction, and inevitably there must be a period of suffering, butJanet was of a naturally buoyant nature, and her wounded spirit wouldgradually find consolation in the love which had waited so patiently forits reward. It needed no great gift of prophecy to see her in thefuture, a happy, contented wife.