It Began in Vauxhall Gardens

It was folly to hesitate. There was tension now between herself and Mr. Lavender. His smile was less pleasant; there was in it a hint of impatience. He was so arrogant, she guessed, that he could not believe that she really disliked him. Her fears of the man were increasing with each day.

And so, when Thorold again asked her to marry him, she accepted the proposal.

His delight was so intense that it was infectious.

As they walked through the Park she felt gay, certain that the future would be good, sure that she had done the right thing.

"We must marry soon," he said.

Only then was she a little uneasy. "I think we should wait a little while."

"But why?"

"To ... to make sure that it is the right thing."

"I know it is the right thing."

"Yes, of course it is, but . . ."

They seemed to mock her, all the other men whom she had known. How can you be sure? they seemed to ask. Haven't you thought at other times that you were doing the right thing ? Fermor seemed to ask: "What do you want? To escape from the Lavenders? Think again, Melisande. / may be looking for you. / may be waiting for you."

Thorold said: "You don't trust me."

"Oh, but I do."

"It worries me. It alarms me. You don't, you know. You won't even tell me the name of your father."

"I have decided I must never tell that to anyone. You see, he cares so much that it should be kept secret."

"I understand how you feel. But to a man who is to be your husband ... it seems such a little thing to tell."

She said: "He is so proud. He wanted no one to know about my birth. I shall never forget when he discovered that the servants were talking."

"That was in the country-, wasn't it?"

"Yes . . . and it was then that I had to go away. You see, he is a good man, a respectable man, and his one lapse must have caused him so much pain and anxiety."

"Perhaps it caused your mother even greater pain and anxiety?"

"Perhaps. But he looked after her as he looked after me. My future was taken care of."

"It must have cost him a good deal; and then he would have given you a dowry."

"He is a rich man."

"And you won't trust me with his name?"

"Please understand me. I want no one to know it through me. Please, Thorold, don't ask me."

He kissed her hand. "Everything shall be as you wish. Now and for ever."

Mrs. Lavender said: "Mr. Lavender and I are going into the country for a few days, Martin."

"Oh yes, Madam."

"I thought of taking you, but I have decided against it. I shall manage without you for two or three nights." Mrs. Lavender looked sharply at Melisande. "Of course I don't expect you to be idle while I'm away. There is my lace dress which needs mending; there is a tear in the skirt. You'll need to be very careful with that. You might go through all my clothes while I'm away. Make sure that everything is in order. And you can wash those nightgowns and petticoats that need it. Oh ... and make me a flower of those pieces of velvet. .. mauve and green. It will go with my mauve gown."

"Yes, Madam. But I should like to make a black rose for the mauve dress."

"A black one!"

"I think so, Madam."

"Hideous!" said Mrs. Lavender. "Who ever heard of a black rose?"

"Perhaps it is just because one does not hear of them that they seem attractive. Besides, I was thinking how well the black would look on the mauve."

Mrs. Lavender clicked her tongue; but after a while she said: "Well, make the black flower. We can try it."

284 IT BEGAN IN VAUXHALL GARDENS

Melisande felt happy as she packed Mrs. Lavender's bag.

"No need to pack for Mr. Lavender," said Mrs. Lavender. "He'll do that himself."

"Yes, Madam."

She was so happy, she could have sung, but the only songs which came to her mind were those which she had heard Fermor sing. "Go lovely rose" and "The Banks of Allan Water"—and most poignant of all "O, wert thou in the cauld blast."

A feeling of relief swept through the house when the Lavenders left.

"Two days of peace and quiet," said Mrs. Gunter. "That will be nice. Let's drink to the next two days in a glass of my ginger."

Sarah came down and they were very merry.

And that afternoon Thorold called for Melisande, and they walked in the Park together. He looked a little sad, a little melancholy.

"Is something wrong, Thorold?" she asked.

"No . . . not if you love me."

"But I have said I will marry you."

"You told me about the young man your father wished you to marry, and how hurt you were because you realized your dowry had played a deciding factor. I have wondered whether, if you were in a happy home, your future assured, brothers and sisters and fond parents about you . . . you would marry me?"

"Oh, Thorold," she said impulsively, "I am so sorry."

"Forget I said it. If I can be the means of rescuing you from what is uncongenial, I shall be only too glad to do so."

"But ... I am fond of you. I am sure of it."

"You don't trust me, Melisande."

"But I do. I do."

"Not completely. You won't even tell me the name of your father."

"Oh, Thorold, so it is that! I understand how you feel. It is a hateful feeling. I will tell you my father's name. Of course I will. There shall be no secrets between us. He is Sir Charles Treve

"I understand. Of course I understand. You shouldn't have told me, Melisande. I shouldn't have put it like that. But I am glad, glad because you trust me now. We are going to be happy, my darling. Everything will be all right for us now."

That was the end of peace; the end of her brief dream. And now she could wonder at her own folly, at her own naivety which had led her into the trap. There was no excuse this time. It was not her first glimpse of the world. The world was full of evil and she could not, it seemed, learn her lesson.

They met in the Park next day.

Did she notice the difference in him as soon as they met? Was that tenderness, which had warmed and comforted her, replaced by hardness, cupidity, mea

"My dear," he said; and he took her hand and kissed it.

They walked arm in arm. She sensed that he was trying to tell her something.

"Melisande," he said at length, "I have a confession to make."

She was startled. She turned to him; he was smiling and she looked in vain for that gentleness which she had loved.

"I am in debt. Deeply in debt. In fact I'm in a bit of a mess."

"Oh, Thorold . . . money?"

"Money, of course. It's that fool Lavender's fault. He has so many tips to give away ... so many 'certainties'. He is all right. He has a rich wife, and he knows how to get round her. Melisande, I'm afraid that if I don't seitle up some of these debts I shall have to resign my commission."

"But surely it's not as bad as that."

"It's as bad as it can be."

"You have never mentioned these debts before."