“What?” said I, startled for a moment out of all self-possession.
“Well?” he said, looking at me in surprise. “Why not? She’s young. Or do you consider it improper for widows——”
“Improper? Natural, sir—natural. How long——?”
“Oh, before the tour even started. And propinquity, seeing each other every day—well,” he finished suddenly, “one mustn’t talk about it, you know.”
But you, my friends, what do you say to that? What do you think of this second example of the surprises life has in store for us? I have been in two minds as to whether I would tell you this one at all, but to a law-abiding man, calm and objective as I know myself to be and as you by now must know me too, such an incident though pleasurable could not in any way affect or alter my conduct. Strictly Menzies-Legh was to be censured for mentioning it; however that, I suppose, was what Jellaby called the bounder coming out in him, and I perceived that whatever they exactly may be bounders have their uses. I repeat, I make no attempt to deny that it was a pleasurable incident, and although I am aware Storchwerder never liked her (chiefly, I firmly believe, because she would not ask it to her dinners) I am convinced that not one of you, my friends, and I say it straight in your faces, but would have been glad to stand at that moment in my shoes. I did not forget I was a husband, but you can be a husband and yet remain a man. I think I behaved very creditably. Only for an instant was there the least little lapse from complete self-possession. Immediately I became and remained perfectly calm. Edelgard; duty; my position in life; my beliefs; I remembered them all. It also occurred to me (but I could not well tell Menzies-Legh) that having regard to the behaviour throughout the tour of his wife it was evident these things ran in families. I could not tell him, but I felt myself inwardly in every way tickled. All I could do, indeed all I did do, was to say “Strange, strange world,” and get up from my chair because I found myself unable to continue sitting in it.
“But what do you propose to do?” Menzies-Legh asked, after he had watched me taking a hasty turn or two up and down in the sun.
“Behave,” said I, stopping in front of him, “as an officer and a gentleman.”
He stared. Then he got up and said with a touch of impatience—a most unreliable person as regards temper: “Yes, yes—no doubt. But what shall I tell old James about your caravan? Are you going on or not? If not, he’ll pilot it home for you. I’m afraid I must know soon. I haven’t much time. I must get away to-day.”
“What? To-day?”
“I must. I’m very sorry. Obliged to, you know——”