Cynthia's Chauffeur
The Earl held up a warning finger.
"Hush," he said, "this is France, remember, and _you_ are the
foreigner here. Where is my son's car?"
"In the garage at Folkestone, my lord."
"Well, you had better cross by an early boat to-morrow and bring it
here. You understand all the preliminaries, I suppose? Find out from
the Customs people what deposit is necessary, and come to me for the
money."
So it happened that when Medenham was able to take his first drive in
the open air, the Mercury awaited him and Cynthia at the door of the
hotel. It positively sparkled in the sunlight; never was car more
spick and span. The brasswork scintillated, each cylinder was
rhythmical, and a microscope would not have revealed one speck of dust
on body or upholstery.
* * * * *
On a day in July--for everybody agreed that not even a marriage should
be allowed to interfere with the Scottish festival of St. Grouse--that
same shining Mercury with the tonneau decorously cased in glass for
the hour, drew up at the edge of a red carpet laid down from curb
to stately porch of St. George's, Hanover Square, and Dale turned a
grinning face to the doorway when Viscount Medenham led his bride down
the steps through a shower of rice and good wishes.
Wedding breakfasts and receptions are all "much of a muchness," as the
Mad Hatter said to another Alice, and it was not until the Mercury was
speeding north by west to Scarland Towers, "lent to the happy pair
for the honeymoon" while Betty took the children to recuperate at the
seaside, that Cynthia felt she was really married.
"I have a bit of news for you," said her husband, taking a letter from
his pocket. "I received a letter by this morning's post. A heap of
others remain unopened till you and I have time to go through them;
but this one caught my attention, and I read it while I was dressing."
He had an excellent excuse for putting his arm round her waist while
he held the open sheet so that both might peruse it at the same time.
It ran:
MY DEAR VISCOUNT--Of course I meant to kill you, but fate
decided otherwise. Indeed, with my usual candor, which by
this time you may have learned to admire, I may add that
only the special kind of dog's luck which attaches itself to
members of my family, saved me from being killed by you. But
that is ancient history now.
I am glad to hear that your wound was not really serious.
There was no sense in merely crippling you--my only chance
lay in procuring your untimely demise. Having failed,
however, I want to tell you, with the utmost sincerity, that
I never had the slightest intention of carrying out my
abominable threat in regard to the fair lady who is now
Viscountess Medenham. Were you other than a heavy-witted and
thick-skinned Briton, you would have known that I was
goading you into issuing a challenge.
This piece of information is my wedding present; it is all I
can give, because, metaphorically speaking, I haven't a sou!
I am, as you see, domiciled in Brussels, where my car is
attached by an unsympathetic hotel proprietor. Still, I
am devoid of rancor, and mean to keep a sharp eye for a
well-favored and well-dowered wife; such a one, in fact, as
you managed to snap up under my very nose.
With a thousand compliments, I am,
Yours very sincerely,
EDOUARD MARIGNY.
P.S.--Devar went "steerage" to the United States when he
heard of our affair. He thought it was all up with you, and
with him.
"The wretch!" murmured Cynthia. "Can he really believe even yet that I
would have married him?"
"I don't care tuppence what he believes," said Medenham, giving her a
reassuring hug. "Indeed, I have a mind to write and ask him how much
he owes in that hotel. Don't you see, my dear, that if it hadn't been
for Marigny there was a chance that I might have left you at Bristol."
"Never!" cooed Cynthia.
"Well, now I have got you, I am beginning to imagine all sorts of
terrible possibilities which might have parted us. I remember
thinking, when my foot slipped...."
"Oh, don't!" she murmured. "I can't bear to hear of that. Sometimes,
in Calais, I awoke screaming, and then I knew I had seen it in my
dreams.... There, you have disarranged my hat!... But I don't think
much of _your_ budget, anyhow; mine is a great deal more to the point.
My father told me this morning that he is sure he will feel very
lonely now. He never meant, he said, to put anyone in my dear
mother's place, but he will miss me so greatly--that, perhaps, Mrs.
Leland----"
"By Jove," cried Medenham, "that will be splendid! I like Mrs.
Leland. At one time, do you know, I rather fancied she might
become my step-mother, now it seems I shall have to greet her as
a mother-in-law. She was bound to come into the family one way or
another. When is it to be?"
Cynthia laughed delightedly.
"Father looked _so_ confused when I asked him. Say, wouldn't it be a
joke if Simmonds brought them to Scarland Towers one day, and they
were announced by some solemn footman as 'Mr. and Mrs. Vanrenen'?"
"Cynthia, you _know_," he teased her.
"I don't know, but I am a good guesser," she said.
And she was.
THE END
A FEW
OF GROSSET & DUNLAP'S
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WHEN A MAN MARRIES. By Mary Roberts Rinehart. Illustrated by Harrison
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