Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 42).djvu/749
No one else ever did, so I made a fool of myself by way of seeking consolation. I know they call me 'Gertrude' here, and some equally silly name at other places which I favour regularly with my society. As a matter of fact, my name is Elizabeth. Since my mother died, when I was a girl, no one has ever called me by my Christian name—think of that!"
The waiter brought her a fresh edition of that curious concoction; she put the glass to her lips.
"Don't suppose that my desire to marry grew less as my years grew more; that's a silly notion which some young girls seem to have. If I have to advertise for a husband, I'm going to have one before I die; so you can imagine what it means to me that Cecil Armitage has asked me to be his wife. I don't know that I'm particularly fond of him; I'm quite aware that he isn't at all fond of me. But he's so young—you don't know what a young man means to a woman like me—and so handsome, so beautiful, so healthy, so strong, so well shaped! In my most sanguine moments I never dreamed that I should have such a perfect specimen of a man for my very own. Of course, I shall have to pay for him—you needn't tell me that; my experience is that one always has to pay for anything that's worth having—and generally through the nose. I expect to have to pay through the nose for him. I've got more money than some people think, or, I believe, even than he suspects. I believe he thinks that I've got two or three thousand a year; I'm a rich woman, my dear. My money has gone on increasing and increasing, and now I don't spend a tenth of my income. I don't mean to let him know how much money I really have; he'd want too much if I did. I don't suppose for a moment that he isn't what I've seen described as 'shop soiled'; he wouldn't want to get money out of me at the price of making me his wife if he wasn't in a nasty hole. And, bless you, I don't mind that; I've grown out of all my illusions. You can tell me all you know against him if you like, though I don't know how you found out; it will give me a pull over him when it comes to talking matters over a little later on. Nothing you can tell me to his discredit will surprise or hurt me in the least. I'm prepared to pay a good lump sum to get him clear of all his messes, then I'm going to have one of the finest weddings ever seen in town; I've had a special sum set apart for it for years. Won't he make a picture of a bridegroom? I never dreamed that I should marry a man like him."
Her cigarette being nearly consumed, she lit another, while I looked at her with, I have no doubt, amazement in my eyes and something like terror in my heart. I had never supposed that there were such women as she existing in the world, who looked at what, to me, were sacred things from such a point of view. It seemed to me that I was listening to someone in a nightmare when she went on.
"There will be crowds of people at my wedding; you can always get crowds of people if you don't care what it costs to get them. And the papers will be full of it; the ladies' papers send their own lady reporters to weddings, and give pages and pages, and lots of illustrations, if you make it worth their while. It's all a question of making it worth their while. I tell you that with such a bridegroom I'm going to have the wedding of the season; and I do believe you thought you were going to choke me off him by telling me that he is what you call a thief. You funny little thing! How many really honest men do you suppose there are, if the truth were known?"
I had nightmares because of Miss Drawbridge that night—real nightmares. I had a broken and disturbed night absolutely on her account, and I got out of bed with the feeling strong upon me that, if I could possibly help it, that, to my mind, impossible marriage should not take place—I would do that unfortunate woman good in spite of herself.
When I got down almost the first person I saw was Mr. Cecil Amitage, looking so glum, so unhappy, so desperate, and, I could not but think, so ashamed of himself, that my resolution was strengthened—particularly when, as I was having my coffee and roll, the man Morgan, with the huge moustache, came and planted himself at my table, and actually began to talk to me.
"I rather fancy, Miss Lee, that you are interested—shall I say?—in our mutual friend Armitage?"
He seemed to have got my name off pat, though where he had got it from I could not think; how he dared to address me I could not think either. I had never seen the man except the night before in the Casino for about thirty seconds—and then at a distance. I did not answer him, I just looked at him; he went on:—
"I may mention that I am Captain Morgan, of the Fusiliers." I think it was the Fusiliers, I know it was some regiment—as if I cared. "I'm an old friend of Mr. Armitage, and if