CHAPTER XVI
It would be incorrect to say that no lucky star shone on Lilly's love at this stage of its development. In the first place, Adele proved, in her born uncommunicativeness and passionate partiality for the handsome "friend" of her mistress, a valuable ally. Secondly, Richard, who on the memorable Sunday had been obliged to go off and join his mother at Harzburg, remained away not for a day only, but for a whole week; thirdly, when he visited her on his return, he was so full of his own affairs that he had no eyes for her guiltily embarrassed reception of him.
He affected a lofty and superior air, the nasal drawl of his cavalry-officer days, and wore a monocle dangling over his navy-blue silk waistcoat. Judging from which, and such symptoms as his head inclining to an extreme angle on his left shoulder and his eyes blinking slyly, it might have been gathered that instead of joining his mother dutifully, he too had been on a spree à deux in the country on his own account.
This, however, proved an erroneous supposition. He had not only been actually at Harzburg till the evening before, but he had to go back there at once for a longer stay--for a month, at least.
"What's the matter with you?" he exclaimed; for Lilly, in a seventh heaven of delight at the news, fell back in her chair almost swooning.
It was true that she immediately scrambled up again and would not own to anything unusual in her behaviour; but he insisted on piling cushions at her back, and would not allow her to risk the exertion of pouring out tea for him. His every act was eloquent of a guilty conscience.
"A summer holiday together is out of the question for us," he said, trying to return to his lofty manner. "And not only that, we have become much too dependent on each other. It will be well for both of us to go our own gait for a bit, and best for all parties concerned. In fact, it's absolutely necessary in view of coming circumstances."
This speech sounded as familiar to Lilly as an old tune in music. She knew exactly what was coming.
"Confess," she said, smiling. "What's on the cards now?"
And then he came out with it, stuttering and drawling out his words. An American, born of German parents, with millions of dollars, of irreproachable style, extremely chic, approved by his mother, and her own parents not averse, and she herself to all appearances agreeable. If he didn't do it now, he never would.
"I congratulate you," Lilly said, tapping his hand playfully. He stared at her with astonished and somewhat reproachful eyes.
"Is that all you've got to say to it?" he asked.
"What else should I say?"
"You can take it so coolly? Are you so utterly without feeling that the thought of parting from your old friend doesn't affect you in the least? I thought you were a little more womanly and sympathetic; I must say I did."
"Please recollect," she said, "that every time that you have talked of marrying you have made the same reproach when I have said I have no desire to stand in your way. You talk as if it was I who was showing you the door, instead of its being the other way about."
Then he flared up. "What expressions you use! How can you possibly tell what I am going through--the wrestling and struggles I have with myself? How many nights do you think I haven't slept a wink for wondering what is to become of you? But you go on as if it had nothing on earth to do with you. You are, in fact, as frivolous and heartless as you can be; so now you know my opinion of you."
At his words, delightful visions of her freedom danced before her eyes, glowing nights given up to uninterrupted love, days of sweet anticipatory dreams. Anything that might happen afterwards seemed as far off as the end of the world. She listened to the rest of his harangue with an absent, indulgent smile.
"If you don't see there's anything to worry about in your future," he wound up, "that's all the more reason why I should take it into consideration. I have to provide for you, and mamma agrees that it's my duty."
The word "mamma" made her pull herself together.
Since the terrible scene in the counting-house, her name by mutual consent had been left out of their conversations. They had substituted for it evasions which each had understood and appreciated in the other.
Now, without warning, "mamma," the symbol as it were of all that was disgraceful and degrading in her existence, flamed before her eyes.
"Any scheme that she has a finger in," Lilly cried, "must humiliate me to the dust. I tell you both straight that you had better be careful. If you make any proposals to me about an allowance of money, I shall consider it a bitter insult and never forgive you."
He paced the room, wringing his hands. "There you are, talking nonsense again! Don't you see that the world would cry shame on me if I turned you off with nothing? And, apart from that, what do you think would become of you?... You'd be on the streets. Woman, do you realise that?"
With sublime indifference, she ignored both him and his heroic zeal on her behalf.
"I can think of other ways," she said, half to herself.
Before her rose a life full of struggle and strenuous triumphs, a tossing hither and thither through storms and hardships, and a jubilant victory as she entered at his side into the society of those who were as good and steadfast as he was. But that final consummation could only come later--much, much later.
Richard interpreted her differently. His eyes were fixed on her suspiciously. He paused in front of her and asked, with a slight shudder, "I say, are you going ... to act like a fool and injure yourself?"
She burst out laughing. Already he evidently pictured her beautiful corpse being dragged out of the water and laid out.
"No, I am not going to commit suicide ... at least, certainly not on your account; and, if I wanted to, I would manage it with such good taste that you would not be inconvenienced or have anything to reproach yourself with."
"You can't mean that you think you'll marry!" he rejoined, still unconvinced. "What decent fellow would marry you after you've lived with me for four years?"
"There are other ways," Lilly repeated obstinately.
He seemed relieved, but went on: "I don't half like leaving you here to mope alone. You'll get depressed, and then you'll be nasty to me. What do you say to having a little change somewhere? You might go to Ahlbeck or Screiberhau, or some strait-laced place like that."
Only by a slight quiver of the eyelids did she betray the scornful laughter that convulsed her inwardly.
"You know I hate making acquaintances," she answered lightly; "and in the midst of people who don't want me I feel doubly alone."
He relapsed into frowning meditation.
"Well, then," he hesitated, and drawled out his words as people do who are afraid of their own boldness, "then ... perhaps the best thing would be for you to come ... somewhere near."
"Near where?"
"Don't pretend you don't know what I mean."
"I do know, but I can hardly believe my ears."
"What is there so wonderful in it?" he growled. "I could look after you sometimes, and have a chat about one thing and another."
"And show me her, I suppose, to get my opinion and my blessing?"
"Well, what if I did? You and I have consulted each other about everything we have done for years.... I cannot for the life of me see why it should be so monstrous in this case."
She felt something of patronising pity for him. She patted his hand and said:
"I don't think, my dear boy, that I am quite the right person to assist in your courtship."
"Good Lord! What next? You talk quite theatrically to-day. You are evidently suffering from swelled head. Yes, swelled head, I say! You are trying to get a rise out of me, and I don't like it, just now especially."
She laughed and stretched herself. How petty it all was, and how ridiculous! How little she cared! And why should she care?
Alone--to be alone with him. That was the only thing that mattered in the whole world.
"You would rather not, then?"
She silently shook her head.
"Very well," he said, and looked as if he were going to leave her in anger; but he hadn't the strength of mind, "Lilly."
"Yes?"
"I should like to prevent any future misunderstandings between us. You seem to think that, this time too, it's all a joke."
"Not at all, Richard. I wish you every happiness. Only, with the best intentions, I cannot be of much use to you in this matter."
"Of use to me! Who was saying anything about your being of use to me? Mamma is right! She says if I don't pull it off this time I never shall. So, understand once for all, in a few weeks all will be over between us."
She nearly said, "So much the better"; but seeing that there were tears in the corners of his eyes she refrained, for she didn't wish to hurt him.
Four years of life spent together lay behind them. He was so dependent on her for sympathy that she could not let him go without a word of advice and encouragement. She spoke to him as if he were a child, said that his mother was right, praised his scheme, and enumerated the many good reasons why it ought to come about; and in order to put his mind at ease with regard to her own complacent attitude, she reminded him that it had always been her highest ambition that he should feel free to do as he liked. She also assured him that to the end of her life she would retain her sentiments of friendship towards him. And in the end they both shed tears at parting.