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"We shall not let it bother us even if it is so."
"Melisande, I could only marry you if you believed in me."
"Of course I believe in you. No one who knew you and saw you with that boy could think for a moment that you could do a cruel thing. If anybody says it, it is because they are evil. . . ." She thought of Mrs. Soady then, and Mrs. Soady she knew well to be a kindly woman. She was shaken. Kindly people often loved to gossip.
But she was determined to hide these thoughts. She would not believe such ridiculous gossip. Now that she saw how he needed her, she was determined to marry him soon.
"You say that now," he said, "but if others say these things you might begin to believe them. I could not endure that."
Tenderness swept over her. She saw his weakness. There was that in him which would always look to what was bad in life, would always expect the worst. She must, even in this moment, compare him with Fermor. What would Fermor have done? Of course he would have been able to swim. He would have plunged in and saved the child. He would have had a crowd of spectators to applaud and admire. And if he had been unable to swim? If he had—like Leon— found himself in that dreadful position, he would have felt no need to fear. He would have somehow seen himself more than life-size. But it was the very difference between them which had made her turn to Leon.
She loved Leon, she assured herself; she loved him with a newly found tenderness; and because this terrible thing had happened to him she was going to share it with him.
Gently she talked to him, making plans for their future. She was going to take care of him. Soon they would go away from here— but not too soon. It must not seem as if he were ru
She knew that she had brought a great comfort to him before she left him and the carriage took her back-to Treve
Ten uneasy days followed.
It was known that Melisande was to marry Leon de la Roche. No one said anything derogatory in her presence regarding Leon, but she knew that the gossip was rife.
Mrs. Soady shook her head. She was not pleased with the engagement now. "Murder," she said to Mr. Meaker, "be like shenegrum; and there's nothing like shenegrum to give 'ee a taste for more shenegrum."
Mr. Meaker was grave too. He reckoned that money was often the motive for murder amongst the nobility. The poor had no money to make it worth while. But, said Mr. Meaker, the Mounseer would be rich now and, when a man got rich so quickly through
someone's death, you had to look about and into things; and looking about and into things made you start wondering.
No, they did not like the thought of MamazePs marriage at all. It made an exciting topic of conversation; it was the only topic of conversation. They delighted to talk of it; but they could not say they liked the thought of the marriage.
The whole neighbourhood was talking. A death. A Fortune. A man who couldn't swim. The two of them alone on the jetty ... the most dangerous spot they could find.
The nods, the grimaces, the furtive glances betrayed their thoughts to Melisande.
And one day the footman came into the servants' hall with an air of great excitement. He whispered to Mr. Meaker, and Mr. Meaker whispered to Mrs. Soady. All that day they whispered of what the footman had seen. The tension grew when Mr. Meaker on the very next day saw what the footman saw; and later others saw it too. ^ There were conferences round the table. What should be done? "Wait a bit," cautioned Mr. Meaker. So they waited. "But," said Mrs. Soady, "I shall not wait much longer."
Melisande had no idea of these secret matters, there was one thing every person in the servants' hall was agreed upon; the Mamazel was not to be told . . . yet. It was something which would have to be broken to her very gently.
Caroline was kind to Melisande, for she too had heard some of the rumours. This was a terrible thing of which Leon de la Roche was accused. Caroline was happy and she wished to see Melisande settled. She was greatly comforted to know that Melisande was betrothed to Leon. It was so suitable; such a neat ending to what had at one time threatened to be a frightening situation.
Preparations were going on for her journey to London. She would be delighted when they left. In the meantime she wanted to be as kind to Melisande as possible.
"I hope you will be happy," she told Melisande, "as happy as I am."
Melisande could not meet her eyes. She kept thinking of Fermor and Caroline together; and she thought of the note she had found under her door on the wedding night, and the Christmas rose which had come with it.
"We are so delighted about your engagement . . . Fermor and I. You looked strained, Melisande. Not worried by all this talk? My dear, people always talk. They're envious. Monsieur de la Roche will be a very rich man now. I am glad. It is so comforting not to have to worry about money."
"He would rather not be rich," said Melisande. "We would rather things were as . . . they were before."
"I am sure you feel like that. I know he was fond of the little boy . . . and you too. But don't worry about the cruel things people say, Melisande."
"You are very kind." Melisande felt the need to explain to someone. She went on hurriedly: "Raoul ... he was so self-willed. You see, he would say '/ want to do this!' and he would do it. Leon was too lenient with him. It was a difficult position. Leon did not wish him to go on to the jetty. But you see, Raoul had been so used to having his own way."
"I have heard he was a very self-willed little boy. But, Melisande, don't concern yourself with silly gossip. I would not if I were in your place. Suppose someone trumped up a silly story about Fermor. . . . I would not believe it."
Poor Caroline! thought Melisande. Poor Caroline and poor Leon! How cruel the world was to some people.
She hoped that Caroline would never be wise enough to understand what sort of a man she had married.
"We shall not concern ourselves with gossip," said Melisande. "As you say, it is folly. I shall see that we do not."
And at the end of those ten days Leon told her that he had to go to London on business. He expected to be away for a week or more.
Melisande was glad. It would be good for him to get away. In London no one would know what had happened.
After he had gone it was as though a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders.
Was she glad on her own account as well as on Leon's ?
It was three weeks after the wedding—a lovely day, a preview of spring, with the primroses already brightening the hedges; the birds were singing, believing that spring had already come.
The bride and bridegroom had not yet left for London. Their
departure had been delayed once or twice. Fermor had seemed in no hurry to go, and Caroline was eager to fall in with his slightest wish.
Melisande went out into the lanes to pick some of the early primroses. Absorbed in her task she did not immediately realize that she was being watched; but, looking up suddenly, she saw that she was near a gap in the hedge where there was a gate leading into a field. Fermor was leaning on the gate.
"Good morning!" he said.
"How long have you been there?" she demanded.
"What a greeting!" he mocked. "What does it matter?"
"I do not like to be watched when I do not know it."
"It was not more than two minutes. Am I forgiven? I saw you come here. You have avoided me constantly so that I have been obliged to creep up on you unawares ... as if you were a wild colt."