A woman's debt

by William Le Queux

And the years glided by very happily for Mrs. Morrice. Her youth had been hard, her young womanhood overshadowed by poignant tragedy; but she had a happy and facile temperament, and the scars of the past soon healed in this atmosphere of luxury and refinement. The two women saw each other from time to time, for Mrs. Morrice, unlike a great many people who have advanced in the world, did not develop the hateful quality of ingratitude. She felt she owed the woman whose acquaintance she had first made in the little old-world village of Brinkstone, a debt she could never repay. But for her stimulating advice, her staunch friendship, she would never have attained her present enviable position.

And then, a few years before the opening of this story, came the first intimation of the second tragedy that was to wreck this unhappy woman’s life.

She and Alma Buckley had met for lunch one day at an obscure restaurant, far off the beaten track, where they were never likely to meet anybody who would recognize the wealthy and fashionable Mrs. Morrice.

As they were settling themselves for a long chat—for they could not meet very often and they always had plenty to tell each other—after the conclusion of the meal, Alma suddenly exclaimed:

“Oh, Lettice, I had almost forgotten to tell you; such a strange thing happened last night. I was supping with a big party at Daisy Deldine’s—you wouldn’t have heard of her, I daresay, but she’s quite a ‘big pot’ in the music-hall world—and who do you think I met? But, of course, you will never guess. Our old friend George Clayton-Brookes, the second of the three sons. You remember the Brookes family at Brinkstone?”

Of course, Mrs. Morrice remembered them well. Her cheek even now tingled at the recollection of the impudent conduct of young Archibald, whom her furious father had so soundly thrashed in the bar of the Brinkstone Arms.

“I was sure he remembered me, for he kept eyeing me all the time at the supper-table, where he was seated a few places below. I heard his name, but I think I should have remembered him without, for he has altered wonderfully little, in spite of the fact that he must be getting on. After supper was over I went up to him and took the initiative by asking him after all the good folks at Brinkstone. He was awfully nice and affable; he asked especially after you, but I kept very mum, said I had lost sight of you for years. We got on famously together. It seems he goes about a good deal amongst the profession. He’s coming to lunch at my flat next week. I think he was quite taken with me. Daisy Deldine chaffed me awfully about him after he left.”

The middle-aged woman, who certainly looked ten years younger than her years, bridled like a girl as she added: “Fancy me, at my time of life, attracting a real gentleman, for there’s no doubt about him.”

Mrs. Morrice smiled. It struck her that if Sir George had been taken by her friend, she fully reciprocated the baronet’s admiration. Presently the conversation turned to young John Graham, who had been put into a City office a short time before by his guardian to teach him business habits. Alma had grown very fond of her charge but there were things about him that worried her. He was of a reckless temperament, far from industrious and wickedly extravagant. He was always asking for money, and sulky and bad-tempered when she refused him.

In subsequent meetings with her friend, Mrs. Morrice learned that Sir George had lunched with Alma, and that the acquaintance had ripened considerably. It was hardly possible to think that this well-born man contemplated marrying out of his own class, but there could be no doubt that he was considerably attracted by Miss Buckley. On her part, when closely questioned, she did not attempt to deny that she, the middle-aged woman who had scoffed at men and marriage for so many years, was as much in love with him as a woman could expect to be at her time of life. If Sir George asked her to be his wife, she would gladly say Yes, and if he could not make up his mind to take the fatal step she was quite ready to remain his very good friend and companion.