However, he remembered he was married. He looked forward to the next evening with interest. At least Miss Chivvey was different from other people. One wasn’t quite sure of her, and that fact had its attraction. She was really very good-looking too, very young, had beautiful eyes and teeth, and the high spirits of youth and health and enthusiasm. Pity she thought she could draw. How much better if she had gone in for first-rate plain cooking! He was sure she could learn that—if it was really plain.
Next day he sent her a few flowers. After all, an Englishman must be gallant to his country-woman; but the next evening he thought she met him with a slightly cooler air and even with a little embarrassment. This melted away before the end of the evening.
He then took her to the theatre in a little box. He was careful to choose a piece that he would have taken his own sister to see, but he forgot that he would not have let his own sister go to see it with a married man and no chaperon.
His manner was becoming a shade more tender than was necessary, and he was sitting perhaps a shade nearer to her than was absolutely required, when, looking up, he saw two young men in the stalls, one of whom was looking at him and his companion with very great interest through an opera-glass. It was Rupert.
Moona had not seen him, and Nigel now became aware of a distinct anxiety that she should not. He was rather sorry he had come: it might give Rupert a mistaken impression. It was not right to compromise her. He would explain, of course, the next day. But it was annoying to have to explain, and he would have explained anyhow. Nigel greatly disliked getting the credit, or, rather, the discredit, of something he did not deserve.
He pretended to be bored with the play, and persuaded her to come and have an ice at a quiet and respectable place before she saw Rupert. She went in high spirits and great innocence.
When they left Nigel said: “Do you know that I oughtn’t to have taken you there to-night? It was wrong of me. If anyone had seen us there they would probably have mistaken our relations.”
She gave her boisterous laugh and said: “I see. Well, you would have had all the credit and none of the trouble.”
“You mean,” he replied, “that I should have had all the infamy and none of the satisfaction.”
As they drove to the studio he took her hand and said: “One kiss.”