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Love at Second Sight

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<h3 id="id01980" style="margin-top: 3em">CHAPTER XXIX</h3> 'Bruce, said Edith, 'I've just had a letter from Aylmer, from Eastcliff.' 'Oh yes,' said Bruce. 'Got him off to the seaside at last, did they?' It was a Sunday afternoon. Bruce was sitting in a melancholy attitude on a sofa in Edith's boudoir; he held The Weekly Dispatch in his hand, and was shaking his head over a pessimistic article when his wife came in. Bruce was always depressed now, and if he felt a little more cheerful for a moment he seemed to try and conceal it. No doubt his melancholy was real enough, but it was also partly a pose and a profession. Having undertaken to be depressed, he seemed to think it wrong to show a gleam of brightness. Besides, on Sundays Madame Frabelle usually listened to him; and this afternoon she had gone, unaccompanied, to hear the Rev. Byrne Fraser preach. Bruce felt injured. He had grown to feel quite lost without her. 'He's very dull there,' said Edith. 'I dare say he is,' he answered. 'I'm sure I should feel half inclined to cut my throat if I were alone, with a game leg, at a place like that. Besides, they've had the Zepps there already once. Just the place for them to come again.' 'He's very bored. But he's much better, and he's going back to the front in a fortnight.' 'In a fortnight! Good heavens! Pretty sharp work.' 'It is, indeed. He's counting the hours till he can get off.' Bruce, sighing, lighted his cigarette. 'I wondered if you'd mind, Bruce, if I went down for the day to see him?' 'Mind! Oh dear, no! Of course, go. I think it's your duty, poor old chap. I wondered you didn't run down for the weekend.' 'I didn't like to do that,' she said. 'Why on earth not?' said Bruce. 'Hard luck for a poor chap with no-one to speak to. Going back again; so soon too.' 'Well, if you don't mind I might go down tomorrow for a couple of days, and take Dilly.' 'Do,' said Bruce eagerly; 'do the kid good.' Edith looked at him closely. 'Wouldn't you miss her, now that Archie's at school too? Wouldn't the house seem very quiet?' 'Not a bit!' exclaimed Bruce with emphatic sincerity. 'Not the least bit in the world! At least, of course, the house would seem quiet, but that's just what I like. I long for quiet—yearn for it. You don't half understand my condition of health, Edith. The quieter I am, the less worried, the better. Of course, take Dilly. Rather! I'd like you to go!' 'All right. I'll go tomorrow morning till Tuesday or Wednesday. But wouldn't it seem the least bit rude to Madame Frabelle? She talks of going away soon, you know.' 'Oh, she won't mind,' said Bruce decidedly. 'I shouldn't bother about her. We never treat her with ceremony.' * * * * * When, a little bit later, Madame Frabelle came in (with a slight perfume of incense about her, and very full of a splendidly depressing sermon she had heard), she heartily agreed with Bruce. They both persuaded Edith to run down on the Monday and stay till Wednesday evening at least. 'Perhaps we shall never meet again,' said Bruce pleasantly, as Edith, Dilly and the nurse were starting; 'either the Zeppelins may come while you're away, or they may set your hotel at Eastcliff on fire. Just the place for them.' 'Well, if you want me you've only to telephone, and I can be back in a little more than an hour.' Madame Frabelle accompanied Edith to the station. She said to her on the way: 'Do you know, Edith, I'm half expecting a telegram which may take me away. I have a relative who is anxious for me to go and stay with her, an aunt. But even if I did go, perhaps you'd let me come back to you after?' Edith assented. Somehow she did not much believe either in the telegram nor the relative. She thought that her friend talked like that so as to give the impression that she was not a fixture; that she was much sought after and had many friends, one or two of whom might insist on her leaving the Ottleys soon. Aylmer was at the little Eastcliff station to meet them. Except that he walked with the help of a stick, he seemed well, and having put Dilly, the nurse and the luggage in a cab, he proposed to Edith to walk to the hotel. 'This was angelic of you, Edith. How jolly the child looks!—like a live doll.' 'You didn't mind my bringing her?' 'Why, I'm devoted to her. But, you know, I hope it wasn't done for any conventional reasons. Headley and I are in the Annexe, nearly half-a-mile from you.' 'I know,' said Edith. 'And when you see the people here, my dear, nobody on earth that counts or matters!—people whom you've never seen before and never will again. But I've been counting the minutes till you came. It really isn't a bad little hole.' He took her down to a winding path covered in under trees, which led to the sea by steps cut in the rock. They sat down on a bench. The sea air was fresh and soothing. 'This is where I sit and read—and think about you. Well, Edith, are you going to put me out of my suspense? How much longer am I to suffer? Let me look at you.' She looked up at him. He smiled at what he saw. 'It'll be rather jolly to have two days or so here all to ourselves,' he said, 'but it will be far from jolly unless you give me that promise.' 'But doesn't the promise refer to after you come back again?' she said in a low voice. 'I don't ask you to come away until I'm back again. But I want you to promise before that you will.' Nothing more was said on the subject at the time, but after dinner, when Dilly had been put to bed, it was so warm that they could come out again, and then she said: 'Aylmer, don't worry yourself any more. I mean to do it.' 'You do!' He looked at her ecstatically. 'Oh, Edith! I'm too happy! Do you quite realise, dear, what it is?… I've been waiting for you for four years. Ever since that night I met you at the Mitchells'. Do you know that before the war, when I came into that money, I was wild with rage. It seemed so wasted on me. I had no use for it then. And when I first met you I used to long for it. I hated being hard up…. The first time I had a gleam of hope was when they told me I'd got over the operation all right. I couldn't believe my life would be spared, for nothing. And now—you won't change your mind again?' Edith convinced him that she would not. They sat hand in hand, perhaps as near perfect happiness as two human beings can be…. 'We shall never be happier than we are now,' said Edith in a low voice. 'Oh, shan't we?' he said. 'Rubbish! Rot! What about our life when I come back again?—every dream realised!' 'And yet your going to risk it,' said Edith. 'Naturally; that's nothing. I shall come back like a bad penny, don't you worry. Edith, say you mean it, again.' 'Say I mean what?' 'Say you love me, you'll marry me. You and the children will belong to me. You won't have any regrets? Swear you won't have any regrets and remorse!' 'I never will. You know, Aylmer, I am like that. Most women know what they want till they've got it, and then they want something else! But when I get what I want I don't regret it.' 'I know, my darling sensible angel!… Edith, to think this might have happened three years ago!' 'But then I would have had regrets.' 'You only thought so,' he answered. 'I should have made you forget them very soon! Don't you feel, my dear, that we're made for each other? I know it.' 'Aylmer, how shall I be able to bear your going out again? It will be like a horrible nightmare. And perhaps all we've both gone through may be for nothing!' 'No, now I've got your promise everything will be all right…. I feel I shall come back all right…. Look here, darling, you need not be unhappy with Bruce. We're not going to deceive him. And when I come back, we'll tell him. Not till then. There is really no need.' They walked together to the Annexe, which was entered by a small flight of stone steps from the garden. Here Aylmer had a little suite of rooms. Edith went into the sitting-room with him and looked round. 'It's ten o'clock and you're here for your health! Call Headley and go to bed, there's a good boy.' He held both her hands. 'I mustn't ask you to stay.' 'Aylmer! With Dilly here! And Bruce let me come down to look after you! He was quite nice about it.' 'All right, dear, all right…. I know. No. I'm looking forward to when I come back…. Go, dear, go.' Edith walked very slowly down the steps again. He followed her back into the garden. 'And suppose—you didn't come back,' she said in a very low voice. Aylmer glanced round: there was no-one in the garden. 'I'm on my honour here,' he said. 'Go, dear, go. Go in to Dilly.' He gave her a little push. 'One kiss,' said Edith. He smiled. 'Darling girl, I've told you before that's a thing I can't do. I really oughtn't to be alone with you at all until we're quite free….' 'But I feel we're engaged,' said Edith simply. 'Is it wrong to kiss your fiancée?' 'Engaged? Of course we're engaged. Wrong? Of course it's not wrong! Only… I can't! Haven't got the self-command…. I do believe you're made of ice, Edith—I've often thought so.' 'Yes,' said Edith, 'I dare say you're right.' Aylmer laughed. 'Nonsense! Good night, my darling—don't catch cold. And, Edith.' 'Yes, Aylmer?' 'I'll meet you here at nine o'clock tomorrow morning.' 'Yes, Aylmer.' 'Then you'd better go back in the afternoon. It won't do for you to stay another night here. Oh, Edith, how happy we shall be!' He watched her as she walked across the garden and went into the hotel at the front door. Then he went indoors. * * * * * The next day Edith, Dilly and the nurse went back to London early in the afternoon. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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