Sinister Street, Compton Mackenzie [classic books for 10 year olds .TXT] 📗

night,” Michael pleaded. “I must see her. And you must meet her. Everyone has been so rotten about her, and, Guy, you’ll appreciate her. I won’t bore you by describing her. You must meet her tomorrow. And the rooms in Ararat House. By Jove, you’ll think them wonderful. You should see her in candlelight among the mirrors. Pauline won’t mind your coming away with me for a night. We’ll stay at Cheyne Walk.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I’m rather hard up just now.⁠ ⁠…”

“Oh, what rot! This is my expedition. And when you’ve seen her, you must talk to my mother about her. She’s so prejudiced against Lily. You will come, won’t you?”

Guy nodded a promise, and Michael went off to bed on the excitement of tomorrow’s joy.

Guy would not start before the afternoon, and Michael spent the morning under a willow beside the river. It was good to lie staring up at the boughs, and know that every fleecy cloud going by was a cloud nearer to his seeing Lily again.

Michael and Guy arrived at Paddington about five o’clock.

“We’ll go straight round from here and surprise her,” Michael said, laughing with excitement, as they got into a taxi. “She’ll have had a letter from me this morning, in which I was lamenting not seeing her for six weeks. My gad, supposing she isn’t in! Oh, well, we can wait. You’ll love the room, and we’ll all three sit out in the garden tonight, and you’ll tell me as we walk home to Chelsea what you think of her. Guy you’ve absolutely got to like her. And if you don’t⁠ ⁠… oh, but you will. It isn’t everybody who can appreciate beauty like hers. And there’s an extraordinary subtlety about her. Of course, she isn’t at all subtle. She’s simple. In fact, that’s one of the things Stella has got against her. What I call simplicity and absence of training for effect Stella calls stupidity. My own belief is that you’ll be quite content to look at her and not care whether she talks or not. I tell you, she’s like a Piero della Francesca angel. Cheer up, Guy. Why are you looking so depressed?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Guy. “I’m thinking what a lucky chap you are. What’s a little family opposition when you know you’re going to be able to do what you want? Who can stop you? You’re independent, and you’re in love.”

“Of course they can’t stop me!” Michael cried, jumping up and down on the cushions of the taxi in his excitement. “Guy, you’re great! You really are. You’re the only person who’s seen the advantage of going right ahead. But don’t look so sad yourself. You’ll marry your Pauline.”

“Yes, in about four years,” Guy sighed.

“Oh, no, no; in about four months. Will Pauline like Lily? She won’t be jealous of me when I’m married will she?”

“No, but I think I shall be,” Guy laughed.

“Laugh, you old devil, laugh!” Michael shouted. “Here we are. Did you ever see such a house? It hasn’t quite the austerity of Plashers Mead, has it?”

“It looks rather fun,” Guy commented.

“You know,” Michael said solemnly, pausing for a moment at the head of the steps going down to the front door. “You know, Guy, I believe that you’ll be able to persuade my mother to withdraw all her opposition tonight. I believe I’m going to marry Lily this week. And I shall be so glad⁠—Guy, you don’t know how glad I shall be.”

He ran hurriedly down the steps and had pressed the bell of Number One before Guy had entered the main door.

“I say, you know, it will be really terrible if she’s out after all my boasting,” said Michael. “And Miss Harper, too⁠—that’s the housekeeper⁠—my housekeeper, you know. If they’re both out, we’ll have to go round and wait in the garden until they come in. Hark, there’s somebody coming.”

The door opened, and Michael hurried in.

“Hullo, good afternoon, Miss Harper. You didn’t expect to see me, eh? I’ve brought a friend. Is Miss Haden in the big room?”

“Miss Haden is out, Mr. Fane,” said the housekeeper.

“What’s the matter? You’re looking rather upset.”

“Am I, Mr. Fane?” she asked blankly. “Am I? Oh, no, I’m very well. Oh, yes, very well. It’s the funny light, I expect, Mr. Fane.”

She seemed to be choking out all her words, and Michael looked at her sharply.

“Well, we’ll wait in the big room.”

“It’s rather untidy. You see, we⁠—I wasn’t expecting you, Mr. Fane.”

“That’s all right,” said Michael. “Hulloa⁠ ⁠… I say, Guy, go on into that room ahead. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Guy mistook the direction and turned the handle of Lily’s bedroom door.

“No, no,” Michael called. “The double doors opposite.”

“My mistake,” said Guy cheerfully. “But don’t worry: the other door was locked. So if you’ve got a Bluebeard’s Closet, I’ve done no harm.”

He disappeared into the big room, and the moment he was inside Michael turned fiercely to Miss Harper.

“Who’s is this hat?” he demanded, snatching it up.

“Hat? What hat?” she choked out.

“Why is the door of her bedroom locked? Why is it locked⁠—locked?”

The stillness of the crepuscular hall seemed to palpitate with the woman’s breath.

“Miss Haden must have locked it when she went out,” she stammered.

“Is that the truth?” Michael demanded. “It’s not the truth. It’s a lie. You wouldn’t be panting like a fish in a basket, unless there was something wrong. I’ll break the door in.”

“No, Mr. Fane, don’t do that!” the woman groaned out, in a cracked expostulation. “This is the first time since you’ve been away. And it was an old friend.”

“How dare you tell me anything about him? Guy! Guy!”

Michael rushed into the big room and dragged Guy out.

“Come away, come away, come away! I’ve been sold!”

“If you’d only listen a moment. I could⁠—” Miss Harper began.

Michael pushed her out of their path.

“What on earth is it?” Guy asked.

“Come on, don’t hang about in this hell of a house. Come on, Guy.”

Michael had flung the door back to slam into Miss Harper’s face, and,