LITMIR.BIZ

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man which roused an imp of contradiction. We sat silent, eyeing one another across the room.

      “I believe you and—er—Mrs. Fane are strangers to this neighbourhood?”

      “Yes! That is so.”

      “You have no—er—special link or attraction?”

      I saw the trap, and protested blandly.

      “Oh, yes! We are delighted with Pastimes. It exactly suits our requirements.”

      Mr. Maplestone frowned, and fidgeted to and fro, then suddenly leant forward, straightening his face into what was obviously intended to be a smile.

      “Miss Wastneys! Will you forgive me if I am perfectly frank and honest, and tell you exactly what is in my mind?”

      “Of course I will. I am sure,” I declared mendaciously, “there can be nothing to forgive!”

      He had the grace to look a trifle ashamed, but his resolution did not waver. Not a bit! He looked straight in my eyes, and said deliberately:—

      “I want Pastimes! For the moment it has slipped through my fingers, but a couple of hours cannot seriously affect your arrangements. On my cousin’s behalf I am anxious to take over the lease. It would be an act of grace on your part if you would agree to this arrangement, and deal with me as his representative!”

      The audacity of it! For a moment I was silent for sheer want of breath, but I could feel the blood rushing into my cheeks, and knew that my eyes were sending out flashes to meet his own. My appearance must have prepared him for my answer before it came, uttered in a very calm, very haughty, aggravatingly deliberate tone.

      “We are not in the habit of changing our plans in a couple of hours. Pastimes suits us. It is unnecessary to look for another house. The matter was decided this morning.”

      “You understand that my cousin is an invalid, and that he has a special reason for wishing to live in this neighbourhood?”

      “There are other houses. Pastimes is not the only one that is vacant.”

      “It is the only one that is suitable,” he repeated doggedly, and there followed a silence during which he sat back in his chair, staring at me with the light blue eyes, which of all eyes in the world can look at once the coldest and the most angry. If he could have done what he wanted at that moment, he would have taken me by the shoulders and shaken me well. To have made up his mind that a thing must be, and to find himself thwarted by a bit of a girl—it was unsupportable!—so unsupportable, that even now he refused to believe it could be true. Giving himself a little shake, like a dog who rouses himself to fresh efforts, he again made that industrious attempt at a smile, and began slowly:—

      “I am afraid I have made a bad beginning! Please forgive me if I have seemed discourteous. When we have talked things over quietly, I have no doubt that we shall be able to reach a satisfactory agreement.”

      “I’m afraid I can’t see how that can be! There is only one Pastimes, so one of us is bound to be disappointed!”

      He pounced on that as if scenting a hopeful weakness.

      “Exactly. Yes; but the disappointment would vary in intensity. That is what I am anxious to point out. When Edwards told me that the tenant was a lady I felt reassured, for it is a matter in which a woman’s kindliness and good heart—”

      My eyes roved to the screen. Charmion’s ears were assuredly open at this moment, straining to hear my reply. I raised my eyebrows, and said frostily:—

      “We are speaking of a business arrangement. I am afraid that is the only light in which we can consider the matter. We shall honourably fulfil our part of the agreement which we have signed.”

      “You refuse to show any consideration for an invalid returning home—after many years?”

      “Not at all. If it is ever in our power, as neighbours, to show him any kindness, we shall be eager to do all that is possible—short of giving up our own house for his benefit. Would you do it yourself, Mr. Maplestone—for the sake of a stranger you had never seen?”

      He stood staring at me, his cheeks bulging with the moving lumps which show that people are swallowing down words which they dare not allow themselves to say. With the same air of elaborate patience which he had shown before, he explained slowly:—

      “My cousin has been stationed in India. In a border regiment. He has served his country for thirty years. Now he has had a paralytic stroke, and is making his way home by slow stages. A man who has worked and suffered as he has done deserves a home, and the gratitude of his fellow-countrymen.”

      “There are two sides to every question, Mr. Maplestone. If I chose to go into details, I might convince you that Mrs. Fane and I have our own claims, which seem to us equally strong.”

      He leapt from his seat, and advanced until he stood directly facing my chair.

      “That finishes it! It is no use appealing to your feelings. Let us make it pure business then! I offer you a hundred pounds down for the reversion of the lease!”

      So it had come to this. Bribery undisguised! I lowered my eyelids, and sat silent, an image of outraged dignity.

      “You refuse! It is not enough? Two hundred then! Three!”

      Still silence. But my listening ears caught a threatening rustle behind the screen.

      “Three hundred! It is a good offer. You are not bound to this neighbourhood. You can find other houses to suit you. Still not enough? Name your own terms then. How much will you take?”

      “A million pounds!”

      The words leapt out of my mouth as it seemed of their own volition. I was tired of this farcical bargaining, and determined to put an end to it, once for all. I stood up and faced his blank stare of amazement, without at least any outward shrinking.

      “Surely it is useless to prolong this bargaining. It is very unpleasant and humiliating.”

      Mr. Maplestone set his square jaw.

      “You are only one partner to this transaction. Mrs. Fane is probably your senior. If I were to see her, she might be induced to name a more—er—shall I say reasonable (oh, the cutting sarcasm of that tone!) figure.”

      “Two millions.”

      The high clear tone struck across the room. Mr. Maplestone wheeled round and beheld Charmion standing just outside the opening of the screen, one hand raised to rest lightly on the curved wood coping. She might have posed as a picture of graceful, imperturbed ease, so calm, so smiling, so absolutely unflurried and detached in both manner and bearing did she appear. Mr. Maplestone looked at her and—this was a curious thing—at one glance realised his defeat. All my efforts at dignity and firmness had failed to convince him, but behind Charmion’s frail, essentially feminine exterior, those keen eyes had at once detected that strain of inflexibility which I was only slowly beginning to realise.

      It was hopeless to bandy words. The Squire knew as much, and turned to the table to lift his hat and whip. He gave a short scornful laugh.

      “The terms seem a trifle—high! I am afraid I must retire from the bidding. Pastimes is yours. I hope”—he looked from me to Charmion, and his expression was not pleasant to see—“I hope you may not have cause to repent your bargain!”

      We bowed. He bowed. The door opened and shut. Charmion looked at me and shrugged her shoulders.

      “A declaration of war! We have begun our campaign by quarrelling with the most ‘influential gentleman in these parts!’ Things are getting exciting, Evelyn!”

      I did not speak. Reaction had set in, and I felt a pang of remorse. I did not want to quarrel with anyone, influential or uninfluential. I was sorry I had been ungracious. I felt a pang of sympathy for the poor, big, bad-tempered man riding homeward after his defeat.

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