“Ah, I might have thought of it once,” said Usk, with a seriousness which tickled Mr Hicks extremely, “but of course things will be different now, if——” he laughed, not unhappily. “A year or two ago I was mad to get out into the world and do something big. I often wish I had gone into the army, even now.”
“Well, now, I thought you gave that up nobly because your mother was breaking her heart over it? But maybe you’ve been busy taking the shine off the sacrifice ever since—sort of ‘If I mayn’t do what I like, I won’t do anything’?”
“Every one isn’t a born social reformer, like my mother,” said Usk, somewhat coldly. Then his face cleared. “But very likely I shall go into Parliament now, and that will please her tremendously.”
“And you think it will please another person as well, maybe?”
“Yes, I’m sure it will. She made me feel awfully ashamed one day when she said how she envied people of our class in England, who could find any number of followers any day if only they cared to lead. She couldn’t make out how we could throw away our opportunities and not lead, she said.”
“Félicia Steinherz among the prophets!” said Mr Hicks drily. “And you have hoarded the remark to repeat it to Lady Caerleon, because you calculate that will please her tremendously too? Well, go ahead and get there! Ask me to the wedding. If you cable right away when you get things fixed, I’ll find it waiting for me when I arrive home.”
He rose to continue his exploration of the train, and Usk fished a scrap of paper out of his pocket, and devoted himself once more to the abstruse calculations with which it was covered. It was his earnest desire to be able to prove to Mr Steinherz that if he married Félicia, her fortune might be entirely reserved for her own use, but the facts were against him. Even if the family house in town, which had until lately been let on a long lease, were made over to him, it would be utterly beyond his father’s power to give him enough to keep it up, even with the most rigorous carefulness. The family at Llandiarmid were accustomed to save—to pinch, Usk called it—but he was conscious of sudden disgust for his own selfishness when he pictured the further economies that would be necessary if his allowance was to be increased. And for what? To allow him to live in luxury without wounding his pride by touching Félicia’s money! There would be no rigid economy in Félicia’s household, he knew that well enough. If she wished for a thing, she ordered it, regardless of the cost, although a curious strain of shrewdness sometimes showed itself in the ardour with which she would pursue a discount of a few pence on a bill of many pounds. He had vivid recollections of the boxes which had accompanied her and Miss Logan on their return from a flying visit to Paris about a fortnight ago, and the calm way in which they had mentioned what seemed to him the fabulous sums paid for a single gown or toque. Decidedly, a household which included Félicia would be an expensive outfit to run, as Mr Hicks had once put it.
Usk had learnt something of this by personal experience. From the day when he first made the delightful discovery that Transatlantic etiquette permitted him to give expression to his feelings by presenting offerings at the shrine of his goddess, he had taken full advantage of his privileges. Félicia accepted the offerings with perfect calmness, but Usk felt a thrill of pride, which to an outside observer might have had something pathetic in it, in the fact that he was obliged to cut down his personal expenses in order to provide them. It was very foolish, no doubt; the sensible course would have been to obtain his gifts on credit, but with a touch of quixotry he chose rather to deny himself that he might keep his love supplied with the marvellous candies and rare flowers which she regarded as necessaries of life. She possessed a cultured palate and the eye of a wealthy connoisseur, and Usk went so far as to give up smoking when he was alone, and had even cherished thoughts of travelling third class. But in that case he could not have enjoyed in peace the delight of thinking about Félicia, and his heroism failed him when it came to the point.
It was not unnatural that Miss Steinherz should also be thinking of him this evening, for the floor of her bedroom was strewn with the leaves and stalks and petals of the last roses he had sent her. They were the very newest roses, the blossoms of a curious coppery-pink tinge, and Usk had paid a fabulous price for them on his way to the station. Miss Logan remarked slightingly on them when the maid had put them in water, and Félicia threw one at her. She returned it, and the mimic battle was continued until not a single rose remained on its stalk. Flushed and laughing, the girls desisted, and presently Félicia sent away the maid and allowed her friend to brush her hair, while she herself performed certain mysterious operations on her finger-nails, with the aid of the contents of a dainty gold-mounted morocco case.
“Is it Monday or Tuesday that we dine Lord Usk?” she asked lightly, with a sudden upward glance.