The Red Planet

that he desired no other Wellingsfordian to invade his privacy. Secretly he had come to see his mother and secretly he intended to go. I remembered that before he went

o run in and out of Wellings Park as if it were his own house. What

of gossip in the country. So when she married Captain Connor, a little gasp went round the neighbourhood, which for the first time remembered Leonard Boyce. There were some who blamed her for callous treatment of Boyce, away and forgotten at the front. The majority, however, t

d women have put to their suddenly, uncomprehended, suddenly deified sons and husbands, had obviously disturbed his nervous equilibrium. That little reflex twitch at the corner of his lips-I have seen it often in the old times. I should like to have had him stripped to the waist so that I could have seen his heart-the infallible test. At moments of mighty moral strain men can keep steady eyes and nostri

ad made a fierce and definite apologia for the very act of which Somers had accused him. He put it down to the sudden epilepsy of fear for which a man was irresponsible. Somers's story had never seemed so convincing-the first part of it, at least-

f a sudden, just on account of an idle question? Even in South Africa, his "mention" had proved

in the eyes of honourable men?-in his own eyes, if he himself had succeeded to the status of an honourable man? Wo

-headed Betty, had ca

Now, what concrete diabolical facts did Betty know? Or had her instinctive feminine insight pierced throug

s I to

ught her pleasure and pride. The pride she would have felt to some extent, I think, if she had married a grampus; for when a woman has a husband at the front she feels that she is taking her part in the campaign and exposing herself vicariously to hardship and shrapnel; and in the eyes of the world she gains thereby a little in stature, a thing dear to every right-minded woman. But Betty's husband was not a grampus, but a very fine f

ntry and their consciences. She was giving a poor lonely paralytic, who had given his legs years ago to the aforesaid country, a delightful evening. ... No, I'm quite sure such a patronising thought never entered my Betty's head. After all, my

orsaken Merman," one of the most haunting romantic poems in the English language. I pointed to a bookcase and bade her fetch the volume. She brought it and settled down again by my chair, and, as a punishment of ignorance, and for the good of her soul, I began to read aloud. She is an impression

as she, And alone dwell forever The King

Marigold's ugly one-eyed head appeared, and, as if

or B

Betty sprang to her feet, held her tall figure very erect, and faced the untimely visitor, her cheeks flushing deep red. For an appreciable time, say, thirty seconds, Boyce stood stock still, looking at her from under heavy contracted brows. Then he recovered himself, smiled, and adva

way. "Otherwise I shouldn't have intruded. But my dear old mother had an attack of something and went to

s poems in the bookcase, caught up the box of cigars that la

he smoke,"

at her, he had selected a cigar, she we

will be here

tter attached to my watch-chain, and clipped the end of his cigar. I also lit a match from my box and han

re a bit late, but I

u." Waved a hand. "

ather sudden

t the action of the British Government.

r of nonchalance. If a notorious German imbrued in the blood of babes had chanced to be in her hospital, she would have given him his medicine with just the same air. Although no one could have specified a lack of courtesy towards a guest-fo

tunate and gallant

with an inclination of the hea

ght there was a long row of cannons, hundreds of them, all in a line, in front of the English Army, and a long row in front of the German Army, and, when there was a battle, that they all blazed away. So when

sex Fusiliers, a Territorial b

ve the pleasure of mak

She glanced at the clock and rose abruptly. "

"How are you g

wal

s her. "Won't you let me

fer to

ectionate leave of me and went t

said, without pr

her out in

a low voice, "won't

you either of forgiveness

my hearing is unusually acute, and I co

to have behaved

shrinking from showing your face here." Then, louder, for my benefit. "G

way and Boyce after he

ill you've told

the front door it must have been something defiant. P

door. "I couldn't resist having a word with her and wishing her

ow,"

ially on such service as the present war-and keep a girl bound at home. Still less has he a right to marry her. What happens in so many ca

t the girl may hold very strong opinions and take p

llow, found Betty of his way of thinking. Perhaps I have old-fashioned notions." He took a long pull at his drink. "Well, it can't be helped," he said with a smile. "Th

not," said

he struck, small blame to her; but, after five minutes on my lones, I felt as if I should go off my head. So I routed out the car and came along. But of course I didn't expect to see Betty. The sight of Betty in the flesh as a married wom

e it isn'

l revelations. But the man was a distinguished soldier and my guest. To what he chose to tell me voluntarily I could listen. I could do no more. He did not re

had treated him to-night in a manner which, if not justified, was abominable. I was forced to the conclusion that Betty was fully aware of some discreditable chapter in the man's life which had nothing to do

ahead the dates of the arrivals of young Wellingsfordians in this world of pain and plenitude. I knew of maidens who were wronged and youths who were jilted; of wives who led their husbands a deuce of a dance, and of wives who kept their husbands out of the bankruptcy court. When young Trexham, the son of the Lord Lieutenant of the county, married a minor light of musical comedy at a registrar's office, I was the first person in the place to be told; and I flatter myself that I was instrumental in inducing a pig-headed old idiot to re

oke with the air of an idle seraph contemplating a wisp of cirrus in Heav

he silence

y considered the real p

ved. I expected him to resume the personal talk, and I dreaded lest he should entrust me with embarrassing confidences. After three strong whiskies an

country, are half asleep. In a few months'

been his forecast. He talked brilliantly for over an hour, during which, keenly interested in his arguments, I lost the puzzle of

eep I had fresh cause f

me to bed, "didn't I tell you that Major Boyce parti

d Marigold. "I'

orming him that Mrs. Connor was here.

ldier. I have known men who have been informed that they would b

od, sir,

nd. "You see," said I, "they were engaged before Mrs. Connor married-I needn't

s already explain

rdly all the wa

ove was shaving me this morning and told me the Major was here. As I considered it my duty, I told him he was a liar, and he was so upset that he nicked my Adam's apple and I was that covered wit

gold might sit for the model of a war-scarred mercenary of the middle ages, and when he c

pping me into my pyjama jacket, "as I was starting the Majo

e?" I

hink it's advisable,' says he. 'Those repairs are very pressing.' 'All right,' says the Major, 'jump in.' Then he says: 'That'll do,

. The drive was a small semicircular

his usual cast-iron tenderness into bed and pulled the coverings over me. "It's a

unny in war-t

d methodically about the room, picked up an armful of c

ng more

thank you,

night,

ness. Marigold shut

eaning of this waylaying