The Marriage of Celia

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20281, 16 April 1934, Page 12

The Marriage of Celia

Author or By

MADGE BARLOW.

“joan Fafrlle's Cross-roads,** * “The Black Bretrayal,” « “Love's Tangle,” elc. ▼

Chapter X—(Continued). They had seats in the stalls, and when (he curtain descended for the first interval and lights flashed, Sauna directed Celia’s attention to a box party, consisting of an elderly gentleman, portly old lady and a girl in pink. ° “That's Dick’s uncle with his sons, Cyril and Eric,” said Sanna. “The girl is a slip of the peerage, and will soon become engaged to Cyril, it is rumoured. The sons are awfully keen on aviation, and are expert fliers. Josh idolises them — thinks the Almighty orders the universe with due respect to the requirements of Cyril and Eric. They are live wires, that pair, always having dazzling brain waves. Dick is out in the cold because he hasn't brain waves. Josh can't forgive anyone who presumes to belong to his family and doesn’t scintillate.” “His face is severe,” replied Celia. “He could be iron-hard. Oh, 1 hope he won’t hear of Dick’s disgraceful conduct ‘.his afternoon an.d be harsh to him.” “So you knew it was Dick? Josh undoubtedly will visit his wrath on him, should he hear—and, really, you can't hold yourself blameless. You led Dick :>n, and put false ideas into his head.” Sanna turned again to Major Joisey, and Celia’s peace was cankered by gnawing anxiety —a sense of guilt. She did not enjoy the play. Her eyes wandered from the stage to the Hazlitt box; to the iron-hard face of the successful man lifted up by paternal pride—pride of achievement—scornful of those unable to climb, ready to push Dick even lower down if he were given flimsiest cause. Was it her fault that Dick had gone temporarily crazy? If his behaviour gained him his uncle’s active hostility, would the blame be here? These questions were thorns in her pillow at night, and she asked herself how she could ever be happy if responsible. Next day came a letter from Robert, written in the train. Her worried state led her to fancy its phrases were laboured, penned with an effort, and that it ended abruptly, as though he had grown tired of writing. In dull mood she went shopping. Sanna said she had no leisure to spare for an orgie of shopping, and Celia had better drive to a fashionable modiste’s recommended by her, do her own selecting and purchasing, taking plentp of time, and lunching at a convenient restaurant. “I’d have to hurry you through, for I’ve arrears of work to pull up,” she explained. “Alone, you may dawdle as you please, and Madame Feodora will advise and help you equally well when you say I sent you. Don’t attempt to ’bus or tram home. The commissionaire at Madame’s will get you a cab.” It was disappointing to go alone, and Sanna hadn’t previously complained of arrears of work, but Celia loyally believed that Miss Pereivale wouldn’t tell her an tmtruth, or refuse to assist her if refusal could be avoided. She went to Feodora’s and looked at \ piles of lovely thinks in bewilderment, awed at Madame’s prices, reduced to dumb awkwardness by her glib tongue. Robert’s wad of banknotes would not buy half the clothes Feodora said the wife of the renowned Monsieur Lennox absolutely must have. In desperation, Celia showed her the amount she had to spend, and was graciously told ready cash did not matter, the credit of Monsieur being beyond dispute. She had a light meal, followed by a mannequin parade in a gorgeous salon where she rubbed shoulders with women of a rank remote from hers, to 1 whom thirty guineas for a single frock seemed not unreasonable. In such a lieadv atmosphere, addling to the wits of the unsophisticated, prudence deserted her, and she ceased to keep track of her expenditure. Feminine to the tops of her rosy fingernails, she wanted everything these women admired, and languidly chose. Warm perfumes, music of violins, exotic surroundings wrought her to a pitch of sensuous intoxication under the influence of which she pledged Robert’s credit to the extent of an extra couple of hundred prounds. Feodora was no temptress. Celia plunged unbeguiled; and on her homeward jaunt shed tears copiously at the thought of vvliat Robert would say. She had had to ask Feodora for her fare back to the flat. “You’ve been an age,” was Sanna’s greeting, • ill-concealed triumph in her glittering eye. “And you’ve been blubbing.” “I haven’t sixpence left.” wailed Celia, “and I’m in Madame’s debt besides.” “Pooh! Debt’s a trifle compared with the news I got on the ’phone from Major Joicev while you were rioting in scenes of luxury. The major called at the Hazlitts’ house some hours ago and found the brilliant trio in stormy consultation. It appears Dick assaulted the constable yesterday—assaulted him violently, and resisted arrest during the march to the police station. When charged, lie madly gave Cyril Hazlitt’s name instead of his own, and was sentenced to a week’s imprisonment without the option of a fine. The constable was badly damaged. Subsequently Dick’s card was discovered in one of his pockets, and an officer sent to interview Josh. The fat simply boiled over into the fire, my dear. Josh foamed at the mouth. To sully the unimpeachable name of Cyril was the unpardonable sin, worthy of rack and thumbscrew. Dick will need praying for when lie’s released. Love lias been his undoing—love and you, Celia.” “I didn’t mean to be,” the girl gasped, pale and distressed. “I didn't lead him on, Sanna, truly!” “You did at the Beverley, if not here. You broke his heart marrying Lennox, a man you don't care for; and you'll have your share of suffering when* Lennox tires of the beauty that took hi* wandering fancy. Nurse Effie was before you in Robert’s regard—will be after you. First love is long love. You noticed how reticent be was about her the day I picked up the envelope lie let fall—the guarded expression of his face.” Revelling in Celia’s stunned look, her clutch at a chair-rail to steady herself on limbs that bent beneath her. Sanna flicked a parcel across the table to her. “Delivered at noon,” she said laconically. “From Scarcliffe. addressed in Glover’s fist, either to Mr. or Mrs. Lennox, to be forwarded. There’s a spot of. ink where an ‘s’ might be. Perhaps it’s for you. I'll untie it.” The parcel contained a pair of glove* flnd a leather-bound blotter with an elastic band. Glover enclosed an intimation that the articles had lain unobserved in the room Mr. Lennox occupied at the Beverley, and which had since been vacant. He apologised for an oversight on the part of the hotel servants. M *

who were instructed to collect and hand to him the forgotten property of guests. “I’ll put them into my truiiK for Robert,” said Celia, eager to hide her agitation from Sauna's devouring gaze. CHAPTER XI. In spite of C'clia’s dejection, the size of Robert's gloves made her smile. The large hands he had! Men with hands like his don't behave like petulant children when things went against them. Laying gloves and blotter away, she wished Dick had been big enough to take his dismissal quietly and spare her the uneasy feeling that -she was indirectly to blame for the scandal he had raised. On her knees beside the trunk, she turned a puckered face to Sanna, who looked in to ask her whether she meant to stay there the whole evening lamenting over Dick. “I’m not,” said Celia, indignantly. “I can’t alter anything Dick has done, and I am more angry than sorry. I’m just wondering, Sanna, if Madame Feodora would allow me to cancel the extra orders.” “She would, but you can’t do it un less you want to cast a reflection on your husband’s generous character and label him a stingy Scot. You’d better advise Madame to pack the goods in cases anil forward bv rail to Red Craigs.” “Don’t you care to see them?” “Not particularly. They might tempt me to covetousness.” “But, Sanna, there’s a dance frock 1 bought you, and paid for, a real beauty, and your favourite colour.” “I won’t have your dance frock.” The fierce words and fiercer glare accompanying them surprised and startled Celia. Sanna almost let herself go, her temper was at such white heat. A frock from the girl who had robbed her of Lennox and everything he possessed was an insult added to injury. If she had had it in her hands she could have rent it to tatters and flung the rags in Celia’s face. The next instant, as in her clash with Mae, she changed her tactics, smiled, and said she had spoken crossly because the Major’s news annoyed her, and she was tired, and would rather darling Celia didn’t offer her a present as though under an obligation she felt bound to discharge. “Come and eat your belated dinner,” she murmured. “I am fainting for mine, and like the little boy, I won’t be happy till I get it.” The maid brought a telegram for Mrs. Lennox with tke first course. “Robert expects to leave Balbriggan to-mor-row,” said Celia, reading it. And Sanna, slv-eyed, asked how he would disband the Castle’s staff of servants, and interview Mrs. Conor’s solicitors and execu-t tors in that short time. “He—he’ll be anxious to hurry and get back,” stammered Celia, coughing over a spoonful of soup. She visualised Robert paying Paddy Fee six weeks’ rent, the grocer and butcher (heir accounts, a trifling debt due to Miss O’Kelly, the local dressmaker, and various other small amounts. Mean errands these for a man of his standing, she realised now, duties she should have performed herself through the post. Wliat- marvel that Mac had gone with sour face. He saw the errands were mean and unworthy—an excuse of her to gain respite. Robert had pretended not to see, had cheerfully taken himself off, and never grumbled at her obvious design to be rid of him: for a few days. How gravely he had discussed her order to sell the furniture and pay her creditors with the proceeds, she knowing all the while that lie would give Paddy Fee the shoddy sticks of things to burn or break up, add pay out of his own pocket. She had professed to be too proud to let him pay yet had not been too proud to incur debt in bis name. “I’ve acted in a very silly, childish, selfish way,” groaned Celia, “and lie must love me tremendously or he’d have told me what 1 was. He s rather wonderful when one begins to think.” She paused to contemplate wonderful Robert. “The name of Monsieur Lennox is an honoured name,” Feodora had said. And Monsieur of the honoured name had humoured a girl’s absurd whims, been so patient, so regardless of personal desires. Always he had considered her first and only. But Dick . . . Dic-k had considered self at every step. The invidious comparson puiled her up with a mental jerk, a sudden fiery flush. Whither were her thoughts leading her? Here was Sanna saving acidly, as though she were a niindreader: “It's evident you aren’t greatly concerned about your share in- sending Dick to the dogs.” tt A- flash of her old spirit awoke in Celia. “I’ll ask Robert to decide the extent of my share,” she said, goaded to vehemence; and consternation leaped to Sauna's face. Celia went on, the flush spreading to her neck. ‘ Robert is truthful and honest, wiser than you and I, one who won’t shape his opinions to please people.” \ou are discovering his noble quali ties,” sneeringly. 1 “I ought to, unless I’m a thanklesi wretch.” “Can it be that absence is making tin heart grow fond? I warn vou, you’re a fool if you tell him of Dick, and rou-o his jealous doubts. You’ll regret divulgmg your secrets to a man keening a tight grip of his.” “1 don’t believe he has secrets, and lie’s above jealousy.” “Dear ine! Behind this fine-sounding talk I fancy I can spot the guile of the worldling. You have no further use for Avery ruined; you have a multitude of uses for prosperous Lennox. Native shrewdness prompts you to desert the uiuler-dog and fawn *on the powerful vanquisher. Again T’d warn you, vou will rue it if you tell Robert.” “I, am t°, and you shan’t prevent “I shan’t try to. Like the animal that pays the rint in ould Ireland, you are obstinate, and can be dhruv.” Celia was conscious afterwards of bitterly strained relations, knew her welcome was wearing thin. Sanna, indeed, wished her away, infuri ated at the prospect of Celia and Robert drawing near to each other, apprehensive that if she had to sit much longer on the safety-valve of her emotions there would he an explosion. Celia, in the confessional, must needs prove the confidential friend, Janus faced, and Lennox would take care his wife did not renew the intimacy. Rupture was inevitable. Better to wash one’s hands of her and cease to cry for the moon. Lennox was for ever lost. The wife of his choice would never give him cause to dissolve the marriage. That hope—her final hope -perished in Sanna’s breast. Celia would never give him cause.

When the fourth day of Robert’s absence passed and they heard no more of him, Sanna became caustic. “Singular.” she remarked, her tone cutting as a rapier thrust. “For a bridegroom lie isn’t very ardent, isn’t hastening back to you.” “He may be busy,” Celia gulped. “He could write or wire, couldn’t he?” “He will. You’ll see, we’ll get word in the morning.” Vainly sifting the morning’s post, Sanna tittered. “Of all the newly-weds I’ve met you alid Lennox are the funny limit. Of course, it’s possible he is on his way back, and if he isn’t here by seven o'clock you’ll have to wait in alone for him. I'm booked to attend an artists’ reunion at the Palette Club.” “I don’t mind being alone,” mumbled Celia, a strange sinking of the heart oppressing her. “You’ve got not to mind,” nonchalantly. “I wouldn’t miss the reunion on any pretext. Cyril Hazlitt will be the guest of the evening. Among his many occupations he finds leisure to dabble in art. Amazing Cyril! Reports say he and Eric are devising a type of helicopter which will be a positive boon to the birdmen, and in addition he has an idea for another unique magazine. The gods grant he'll talk of them to me and not to Dick. You aren’t keen to hear the latest tidings of Dick?” “No,” stiffly. “A hubby lost, stolen or strayed cost 9 you more heaviness of soul, and you do well to confine yourself to one bother at a time. Really, Celia, your grand catch is behaving queerly.” Sanna went to the Palette Club in high and reached home at midnight. “Who's that?” she inquired of the maid, hearing an unfamiliar voice in the drawingroom. “A lady to see Mrs. Lennox, miss.” Entering the room, Sanna glanced curiously at a tall, slender young woman standing on the hearthrug, looking down it Celia seated on an immense satin pouffe. Celia turned her head, battling with nervousness, a lump swelling visibly in her bare throat. “That you, Sauna? Something unexpected has happened, and I am going to Red Craigs early in the morning.” “You are ?” shrilled-voiced. “Them Mr v ,Lennox has arrived?” Celia shook her head, and the tall young woman replied, her bright eyes braving Miss Percivale’s frosty stare. “Unfortunately, Mr. Lennox lias had mi attack of ague in Dublin, and Mr. McHaffie wrote me to come and fetch Mrs. Lennox, pr.ovfHed she didn’t positively prefer to remain with you. If she goes to Red Craigs she will save Mr. Lennox the journey to London, and permit him to proceed from Holyhead. It seems the ague attack started at Scarcliffe, but the excitement of the wedding made Mr. Lennox forget he was ill, or temporarily cured him, and he is now passing through what Mr. McHaffie calls the tail-end of it. He would like his wife to await him in Scotland, and she decided to travel with me in the morning.” “And who are you?” was the coldly polite query. “Oh, excuse me,” cried Celia. “This is Miss Ramagc from the cottage hospital. Nurse Effie—Miss Pereivale.” “How extremely odd!” exclaimed Sanna, acknowledging Miss Ramage’s slight bow. “Doesn’t Mr. Lennox think his wife worth coming for? Why hasn’t' he written acquainting me of his change of plan ?” (To be continued daily.)