"Everything. Where does she come from? Who are her people? I don't know any Mariners.""I haven't cross-examined her," said Derek stiffly. "But I do know that her parents are dead. Her father was an American."
"American!"
"Americans frequently have daughters, I believe."
"There is nothing to be gained by losing your temper," said Lady Underhill with steely calm.
"There is nothing to be gained, as far as I can see, by all this talk," retorted Derek. He wondered vexedly why his mother always had this power of making him lose control of himself. He hated to lose control of himself. It upset him, and blurred that vision which he liked to have of himself as a calm, important man superior to ordinary weaknesses. "Jill and I are engaged, and there is an end to it."
"Don't be a fool," said Lady Underhill, and was driven away by another baggage-truck. "You know perfectly well," she resumed, returning to the attack, "that your marriage is a matter of the greatest concern to me and to the whole of the family."
"Listen, mother!" Derek's long wait on the draughty platform had generated an irritability which overcame the deep-seated awe of his mother which was the result of years of defeat in battles of the will. "Let me tell you in a few words all that I know of Jill, and then we'll drop the subject. In the first place, she is a lady. Secondly, she has plenty of money...."
"The Underhills do not need to marry for money." "I am not marrying for money!"
"Well, go on."
"I have already described to you in my letter--very inadequately, but I did my best--what she looks like. Her sweetness, her lovable-ness, all the subtle things about her[23] which go to make her what she is, you will have to judge for yourself."
"I intend to!"
"Well, that's all, then. She lives with her uncle, a Major Selby...." "Major Selby? What regiment?"
"I didn't ask him," snapped the goaded Derek. "And, in the name of heaven, what does it matter? If you are worrying about Major
Selby's social standing, I may as well tell you that he used to know father." "What! When? Where?"
"Years ago. In India, when father was at Simla." "Selby? Selby? Not Christopher Selby?"
"Oh, you remember him?"
"I certainly remember him! Not that he and I ever met, but your father often spoke of him."
Derek was relieved. It was abominable that this sort of thing should matter, but one had to face facts, and, as far as his mother was concerned, it did. The fact that Jill's uncle had known his dead father would make all the difference to Lady Underhill.
10
"Christopher Selby!" said Lady Underhill reflectively. "Yes! I have often heard your father speak of him. He was the man who gave
your father an I.O.U. to pay a card debt, and redeemed it with a cheque which was returned by the bank!" "What!"
"Didn't you hear what I said? I will repeat it, if you wish." "There must have been some mistake."
"Only the one your father made when he trusted the man." "It must have been some other fellow."
"Of course!" said Lady Underhill satirically. "No doubt your father knew hundreds of Christopher Selbys!" Derek bit his lip.
"Well, after all," he said doggedly, "whether it's true or not...."
"I see no reason why your father should not have spoken the truth."
"All right. We'll say it is true, then. But what does it matter? I am marrying Jill, not her uncle."
"Nevertheless, it would be pleasanter if her only living[24] relative were not a swindler!... Tell me, where and how did you meet this girl?"
"I should be glad if you would not refer to her as 'this girl.' The name, if you have forgotten it, is Mariner." "Well, where did you meet Miss Mariner?"
"At Prince's. Just after you left for Mentone. Freddie Rooke introduced me." "Oh, your intellectual friend Mr. Rooke knows her?"
"They were children together. Her people lived next to the Rookes in Worcestershire." "I thought you said she was an American."
"I said her father was. He settled in England. Jill hasn't been in America since she was eight or nine." "The fact," said Lady Underhill, "that the girl is a friend of Mr. Rooke is no great recommendation." Derek kicked angrily at a box of matches which someone had thrown down on the platform.
"I wonder if you could possibly get it into your head, mother, that I want to marry Jill, not engage her as an under-housemaid. I don't consider that she requires recommendations, as you call them. However, don't you think the most sensible thing is for you to wait till you meet her at dinner to-night, and then you can form your own opinion? I'm beginning to get a little bored by this futile discussion."
"As you seem quite unable to talk on the subject of this girl without becoming rude," said Lady Underhill, "I agree with you. Let us
hope that my first impression will be a favourable one. Experience has taught me that first impressions are everything." "I'm glad you think so," said Derek, "for I fell in love with Jill the very first moment I saw her!"
IV
Barker stepped back and surveyed with modest pride the dinner-table to which he had been putting the finishing touches. It was an
11
artistic job and a credit to him.
"That's that!" said Barker, satisfied.
He went to the window and looked out. The fog which had lasted well into the evening, had vanished now, and the clear night was
bright with stars. A distant murmur of traffic came from the direction of Piccadilly.[25]
As he stood there, the front-door bell rang, and continued to ring in little spurts of sound. If character can be deduced from bell-ringing, as nowadays it apparently can be from every other form of human activity, one might have hazarded the guess that whoever was on the other side of the door was determined, impetuous, and energetic.
"Barker!"
Freddie Rooke pushed a tousled head, which had yet to be brushed into the smooth sleekness that made a delight to the public eye, out of a room down the passage.
"Sir?"
"Somebody ringing."
"I heard, sir. I was about to answer the bell."
"If it's Lady Underhill, tell her I'll be in in a minute."
"I fancy it is Miss Mariner, sir. I think I recognize her touch."
He made his way down the passage to the front-door, and opened it. A girl was standing outside. She wore a long grey fur coat, and a
filmy hood covered her hair. As Barker opened the door, she scampered in like a grey kitten.
"Brrh! It's cold!" she exclaimed. "Hullo, Barker!" "Good evening, miss."
