IV
Russell and I eloped on a Friday morning. Mother and I packed my dressing case and a bag, and I gave her an itemized list of what was to be sent on in my trunk when I wired for it. She was greatly relieved to know that Henry was looking after things, especially the ring.
"I do hope he gets a narrow one," she said. "Wedding rings are nonsense at any time. You can never wear other rings with them. But if it is platinum you can have it set with diamonds later on."
I think she was disappointed when I refused to leave a note on my dressing table for her.
"That's out of date, mother," I said. "You needn't know anything until you get my wire that it's over. Then you can call up the newspapers and deny it. That's the best way to let them know."
Then she went out, per agreement, after kissing me good-by, and I called a taxicab and eloped.
Did you ever have a day when things went wrong with you and when you knew that the fault was somewhere in you? Well, that was that sort of day. The minute I was in the taxicab I was uncomfortable. All at once I didn't want to be married. I hoped Russell would miss the train, and I could go back home and be a spinster lady and be on committees.
But he did not miss the train. He was there, waiting. He had on a very ugly necktie and an English ulster that made his chest dish in, although he has a good figure.
"Hello, girlie," he said. "Stuff all here? Any excitement at home? No? Nice work."
My lips felt stiff.
"Train's waiting," he said. "What do you think of Henry? Big lift, that is. I've never been married before. I'm fairly twittering."
We got into the train. There was no Pullman. Not that it mattered, but it helped to upset me. I hated eloping in a day coach. And a woman with a market basket sat across the aisle, and the legs of a chicken stuck out.
Russell squeezed into the seat beside me.
"Jove, this is great!" he said. "Aren't you going to put your hand in my coat pocket, honey?"
Quite suddenly I said:
"I don't want to."
He drew away a trifle.
"You're nervous," he said. "So am I, for that matter. D'you mind if I go and smoke?"
I didn't mind. I thought if I had to see that ulster dishing in and that tie another minute I'd go crazy.
I grew calmer when he had gone. Here was the thing I had worked so hard for, mine at last. I thought of Toots, and her face when she saw the papers. I thought of Ellie Clavering and Bessie Willing and Margaret North and the others, with their earrings and the imitation of Toots and all the rest of it. I felt rather better. When Russell came back I could even smile at him.
"I wish I could have a cigarette," I said.
He turned and put a hand over mine.
"You're going to cut that out, you know, girlie," he said. "I can't have my wife smoking."
Yes, that's what he said. For ten years he'd sent girls cigarettes and offered them cigarettes and sat with them in corners while they smoked cigarettes. But he didn't want his wife smoking. Wasn't it typical?
Oh, well, I didn't care. I'd do as I liked once we were married. Then about half way, without the slightest warning, I knew I couldn't marry him. Marry him! Why, I didn't even like him. And the way he made me sit with my hand in his coat pocket was sickening.
"I don't think I'll marry you after all," I said.
"Eh? What?"
"I said I've changed my mind. I won't do it."
"I haven't changed mine."
"I'm not really in love with you."
"You're nervous," he said calmly. "Go ahead and talk. It's the new psychology. Never bury your worries. Talk 'em out and get rid of 'em."
"I was never forbidden to see you."
"All right," he said contentedly. "I knew that all along. What else?"
"Even my hand in your coat pocket is a trick."
"Sure it is, but it's a nice trick. What else?"
"I'm not going to marry you."
"Oh, yes, you are. You can't very well go back, can you? Mother's probably called up the papers already."
Then he sat up and looked at me.
"Now, look here, young lady," he said. "I'm no idiot. I knew before you were born some of the stunts you pulled. I've never been fooled for a minute about them. But you're going to marry me. Why? Because I'm crazy about you. That's why. And that's enough."
It was terrible. And there was no way out, none. The train rumbled on. There was a tunnel and he kissed me. It was a short tunnel.
Somebody behind chuckled.
And then at last it was over, and we were there, and I was being led like a sheep to the altar, and Henry was on the platform with ring and license and all the implements of sacrifice.
"Behold," said Russell from the train platform, "the family friend is on hand. Whose idea was Henry, anyhow? His or yours or mother's?"
Henry came up. He looked cheerful enough, although I fancied he was pale. I liked his necktie. I always liked Henry's ties.
"Hello," he said. "Everything here? Where's your luggage?"
"Baggage car," said Russell. "Look after Kit, Henry, will you? I'll see to it."
He hadn't taken two steps before Henry had clutched my arm.
"I knew you wouldn't," he said. "I can see it in your face."
"Henry!" I gasped. "What am I to do?"
"You're to marry me," he said in a sort of fierce whisper. "Don't stop to argue. I've always meant to marry you. Quick, into the taxi!"
That's all I remember just then, except hearing him say he had the license and the ring, and an uproar from where we'd left Russell and all his money on the platform.
"Wha-what sort of license?" I asked, with my teeth chattering from pure fright. "If it's in Russell's name it's not good, is it?"
"It's in my name," said Henry, grimly.
"But the ring—that's Russell's."
"Not at all," said Henry, still without an atom of tenderness. "I bought it and paid for it. It's got 'From H. to K.' inside of it. Very small," he added hastily. "It's quite narrow, as you requested."
"Henry," I said, sitting up stiffly, "what would I have done if you hadn't been round?"
"You needn't worry about that. After this I'll always be round. I don't intend to be underfoot," he volunteered, "but I'll be within call. As a matter of fact," he added, "I've been within call practically all of the last month. It's taken a lot of time."
If only he had said something agreeable or yielding, or looked anything but grim and efficient, I could have stood it. But, there we were, on our way to be married, and he looked as sentimental as a piano tuner.
All at once it came over me that it was Henry, it always had been Henry, it always would be Henry. And he looked calm and altruistic and rather hollow round his eyes.
"If you're only doing this to save me," I said, "you needn't, you know. I can go home, even if the papers have got it."
"Don't make me any more nervous than I am, Kit," he said. "I'm about evenly divided as to beating you up or kissing you. Any extra strain, and it's one or the other."
"Don't beat me, Henry."
"I'm damnably poor, Kit," he said.
For reply I slid my hand into his coat pocket. He melted quite suddenly after that, and put his arms round me. I knew I was being a fool but I was idiotically happy.
"Henry," I said, "do you know that verse in the Bible, that as a partridge sits on eggs and fails to hatch them, so too the person who gets riches without deserving them?"
He held me off and looked at me as if he suspected my sanity. Then he kissed me.