The day of happiness was a pitiable failure as far as Melicent was concerned. She did her best, honestly. She wore her prettiest clothes, and tried hard to be really interested in jewellery, and to persuade herself that driving down Bond Street in a hansom, purchasing a smart diamond ring, lunching at the Trocadero, and so on, in company with a good-looking, well-dressed, clever and agreeable young man, constituted the elements of enjoyment for her. But it would not do. She would rather have been wandering alone on Fransdale Rigg in a storm and a mackintosh; or, better still, superintending the foundation-laying of the first child of her genius.
After their final leave-taking, and the passionate demonstration on the part of Lance which she had not been able to evade, she was almost determining to put an end to the whole thing. But when he was gone the tension relaxed at once. She liked him very well at a distance. Perhaps—almost certainly—by the time he returned, she would find that her affections had progressed in his direction. Meanwhile, she blindly felt the protection of her engagement to be an imperious necessity in the present circumstances.
And three days after the sailing of her lover, the idea of her approaching wedding had grown dim and far; for Captain Brooke came to Mr. Helston's office to consider the builders' estimates.
Melicent was at her drawing-board when he came in, her fair head bent over a piece of delicate work. The meeting was expected on both sides, and both were thoroughly on guard. Mr. Helston was present, and after the usual greetings had passed, the Captain, without pause, offered Melicent his congratulations on her engagement.
"Mayne seemed afraid that you would throw up your commission and leave me in the lurch in consequence of more pressing interests," he said. "I am glad to find you are more business-like than that."
She smiled.
"I'm afraid Lance knows that he will have to go shares with architecture in my heart," she said, slightly shrugging her shoulders.
Helston had gone for a moment to the outer office, to carry a paper to a clerk: the two were alone.
"What a fool Burmester must be!" said Brooke hurriedly, under his breath.
She looked up, angry, amazed; but his eyes were in another direction, and it was impossible for her to answer him, because Helston immediately returned. They plunged into business; and thereafter her client's manner was wholly natural, quiet and business-like.