THE marriage ceremony was fixed for the second week of the new year. All London was invited. The Childwicks liked to do things well, and however well they did them made no impact on their wealth. They were really rich people and of late years their stock had been going continually up.
Still it was generally felt that Gwendolen had done very well. She was a cut and polished jewel, but a setting was needed for her. What choicer setting could mortal girl desire than an old and distinguished marquisate and that beautiful and historical place Warlington Towers? These things would supply the essential background her millions lacked. Then, too, Bill was a popular young man. His feelings, as his sister said, might not run deep, but in his way he was immensely attractive. Everybody liked Bill. Even his fecklessness was a point in his favour. And he would be all the better for having a shrewd and clever American wife to keep him up to the mark.
Mame received an invitation from the Childwicks; her friends saw to that. It was duly accepted; yet when the day came she did not feel equal to facing the music. Lady Violet did her best to persuade her to come to the church and to the reception in Berkeley Square, until she realised that it would not be kind to persist. Good, brave little puss! Those quaint furry paws had been rather nastily trapped. She was still suffering. For all her wonderful grit, when the day came she could not help groaning a bit over the throbbing of her wounds.
It went to Lady Violet’s heart to leave her behind. But there was no help for it. The child could not face the music. And it was hardly reasonable to expect that she should.
Even as Lady Violet stood in her regalia, which emphasised her fine points, and took a tender and affectionate leave of poor Mame, she could not help saying in her frank way: “I’m not going to enjoy this one bit. We’re shown up too badly. I wish now I hadn’t interfered.”
It was no more than the truth. She felt on a low plane. Compared with her friend and business partner she had a sense of inferiority which was new and decidedly unwelcome.
“You were quite right, honey.” Mame was brave and magnanimous to the end. “Had I been you I’d just have done that. It’s nature. And it’s no use trying to go against nature.”
But Mame’s eyes were so tragic, that her friend, without venturing to say another word, made a sort of bolt for the door and for the lift beyond it. No, Lady Violet did not feel that she was going to enjoy her day.
The day, for Mame, was very far from being one of enjoyment either. A great deal of it was spent walking about London. Now the pinch had really come it was the go-getter who mounted to the saddle and took command. The practical side of a dual nature was not slow to inform her that she had gone back on herself. She had betrayed, at the beck of a mere whim, all that she had stood for.
Life had always been against her until a few months ago. She had had to fight so hard for bare existence that she might at least have had the sense to ensure the future when opportunity arose. But no, she had denied her luck. There was a Tide. Well, the Tide had come and she had deliberately ignored it. A great position, social security had been offered her. She had even accepted her chance and then, just for a whim, had passed it on to her enemy and rival.