Page 41 of My Brilliant Career

‘Bah!’ I exclaimed sarcastically. ‘It appears that we all labour under delusions. Go and get a beautiful woman to wear your ring and your name. One that will be able to say yes and no at the right time; one who will know how to dress properly; one who wouldn’t for the world do anything that other women did not also; one who will know where to buy the best groceries and who will readily sell herself to you for your wealth. That’s the sort of woman that suits men, and there are plenty of them; procure one, and don’t bother with me. I am too small and silly, and have nothing to recommend me. I fear it speaks little for your sense or taste that you ever thought of me. Ta-ta, Mr Beecham,’ I said over my shoulder with a mocking smile, and walked away.

When about half-way down the orchard reflection pulled me up shortly under an apple-tree.

I had said what I had said because, feeling bitter for the want of love, and because full of pain myself, I rejoiced with a sort of revenge to see the same feeling flash across another’s face. But now I was cool, and, forgetting myself, thought of Harold.

I had led him on because his perpetually calm demeanour had excited in me a desire to test if it were possible to disturb him. I had thought him incapable of emotion, but he had proved himself a man of strong and deep emotion; might he not also be capable of feeling — of love? He had not been mean or nasty in his rage, and his anger had been righteous. By accepting his proposal of marriage, I had given him the right of expressing his objection to any of my actions of which he disapproved. I on my part had the liberty of trying to please him or of dissolving our engagement. Perhaps in some cases there was actually something more than wounded vanity when a man’s alleged love was rejected or spurned. Harold had seemed to suffer, to really experience keen disappointment. I was clearly in the wrong, and had been unwomanly beyond a doubt, as, granting that Harold Beecham was conceited, what right had I to constitute myself his judge or to take into my own hands the responsibility of correcting him? I felt ashamed of my conduct; I was sorry to have hurt any one’s feelings. Moreover, I cannot bear to be at ill-will with my fellows, and am ever the first to give in after having quarrelled. It is easier than sulking, and it always makes the other party so self-complacent that it is amusing as well as convenient, and—and—and—I found I was very, very fond of Harold Beecham.

I crept noiselessly up the orchard. He had his back to me, and had moved to where a post of the fence was peeping out among the greenery. He had his elbow placed thereon, and his forehead resting on his hand. His attitude expressed dejection. Maybe he was suffering the torture of a broken ideal.

His right hand hung limply by his side. I do not think he heard me approach.

My heart beat quickly, and a fear that he would snub me caused me to pause. Then I nerved myself with the thought that it would be only fair if he did. I had been rude to him, and he had a right to play tit-for-tat if he felt so disposed. I expected my action to be spurned or ignored, so very timidly slipped my fingers into his palm. I need not have been nervous, for the strong brown hand, which had never been known to strike a cowardly blow, completely enfolded mine in a gentle caressing clasp.

‘Mr Beecham, Harold, I am so sorry I was so unwomanly, and said such horrible things. Will you forgive me, and let us start afresh?’ I murmured. All flippancy, bitterness, and amusement had died out of me; I was serious and in earnest. This must have expressed itself in my eyes, for Harold, after gazing searchingly right there for a time, seemed satisfied, and his mouth relaxed to its habitually lovable expression as he said:

‘Are you in earnest? Well, that is something more like the little woman.’

‘Yes, I’m in earnest. Can you forgive me?’

‘There is nothing to forgive, as I’m sure you didn’t mean and don’t remember the blood curdling sentiments you aired.’

‘But I did mean them in one sort of a way, and didn’t in another. Let us start afresh.’

‘How do you mean to start afresh?’

‘I mean for us to be chums again.’

‘Oh, chums!’ he said impatiently; ‘I want to be something more.’

‘Well, I will be something more if you will try to make me,’ I replied.

‘How? What do you mean?’

‘I mean you never try to make me fond of you. You have never uttered one word of love to me.’

‘Why, bless me!’ he ejaculated in surprise.

‘It’s a fact. I have only flirted to try and see if you cared, but you didn’t care a pin.’

‘Why, bless me, didn’t you say I was not to show any affection yet awhile? And talk about not caring — why, I have felt fit to kill you and myself many a time the last fortnight, you have tormented me so; but I have managed to keep myself within bounds till now. Will you wear my ring again?’

‘Oh no; and you must not say I am flirting if I cannot manage to love you enough to marry you, but I will try my best.’

‘Don’t you love me, Syb? I have thought of nothing else but you night and day since I saw you first. Can it be possible that you don’t care a straw for me?’ and a pained expression came upon his face.

‘Oh, Harold, I’m afraid I very nearly love you, but don’t hurry me too much! You can think me sort of secretly engaged to you if you like, but I won’t take your ring. Keep it till we see how we get on.’ I looked for it, and finding it a few steps away, gave it to him.

‘Can you really trust me again after seeing me get in such a vile beast of a rage? I often do that, you know,’ he said.

‘Believe me, Hal, I liked it so much I wish you would get in a rage again. I can’t bear people who never let themselves go, or rather, who have nothing in them to carry them away — they cramp and bore me.’

‘But I have a frightful temper. Satan only knows what I will do in it yet. Would you not be frightened of me?’

‘No fear,’ I laughed; ‘I would defy you.’

‘A tomtit might as well defy me,’ he said with amusement.

‘Well, big as you are, a tomtit having such superior facilities for getting about could easily defy you,’ I replied.