The dangerous game
lovers. Yet, in this case, they were mere pals. Their Platonic
friendship was fast cementing. He told her of his past life, and
confessed much to her, while she, on her part, laid bare the secret of
her flirtations with other men before she had met Lionel.
Those intimate talks, as they strolled beside the sea, brought them
closer to each other, while at home they were in the habit of sitting
on the big settee close to the fire, he often holding her in his
embrace.
“How strange it is!” she remarked one evening as they sat smoking
cigarettes, his arm about her waist and her face lit by the firelight
glow, prior to parting for the night. “A stranger would think we were
lovers, wouldn’t they?”
“And are we not?” he asked quickly. “Do you doubt, Edris, that I
really love you?”
“No. I really believe you do,” answered the girl frankly. “That is why
it is all so strange.”
“Because of the difference in our ages? Yes, I know, dearest,” he
sighed sadly.
“I never think of your age, Seton,” she said after a pause. “To me you
are as a young man, and I have grown to--to like you.”
“But not to love me,” he exclaimed, with bitterness in his tremulous
voice.
She turned her eyes to his, regarding him in silence for a few
seconds. Then she said in a soft whisper:
“You are mistaken. In these last few days I have found that I
reciprocate the great affection you have for me, dearest.”
“Then you really love me just a little after all!” he gasped with
delight.
“Yes, I love you more than just a little,” was her answer.
“Oh! Thank God for those words of yours, my darling!” he cried, and,
pressing her to his heart, he imprinted the first kiss upon her ready
lips, while she kissed him in return.
In the dim firelight he saw the unmistakable love-look that can never
be feigned, and knew at last that she was his.
Until far in the night they remained talking, she still held in his
strong arms, while ever and anon he imprinted fond caresses upon her
lips and upon her hands, and in those hours they began to understand
each other. Two broken hearts thus became united, and when he kissed
her good-night, and held open the door of her room, she answered in a
low, sweet voice, as her lips met his:
“Good-night, my beloved.”
Next day they both went to London, and Seton accompanied her from
Euston and saw her safely home to Stagsden Hall, which was situated
about three miles from Thurnby, in Leicestershire. Edris’s big blue
open car met them at the station, and quickly took them up the hill to
General Temperley’s fine house, which stood in extensive grounds,
commanding a magnificent view of woods and pastures.
The moment they entered the gates, Lord Simba, a magnificent brindle
Great Dane, bounded across the lawn to greet his young mistress, who
descended to pet him, while, a few moments later, Darville entered the
great paneled lounge, where he was warmly welcomed by the General and
Mrs. Temperley.
“At last Edris has prevailed upon you to visit us again, Darville!”
cried the General with pleasure. “I’m so delighted to see you.”
“And I’m delighted to be here. But I’ve simply brought Edris home. I’m
sorry that I can’t remain this time, but I have some very pressing
business in town to-morrow, so I can only stay the night,” said their
visitor apologetically.
Darville was very fond of the General because of his breezy manner and
unfailing good humor, even though he now lived in retirement, while
Mrs. Temperley, a good-looking and well-preserved woman, was of that
intellectual type which appealed to him.
When Edris had shown him to his room, and he began to dress for dinner
he wondered what the girl’s parents would say if they knew their
secret. At present they had agreed to conceal the truth, therefore
whatever affection they showed each other was in strict secrecy.
The house was a large, well-appointed, modern one, with fine, lofty
rooms and long windows, extremely comfortable and well planned. Both
the drawing-room, the morning-room, and, indeed, all the rooms, showed
Mrs. Temperley’s exquisite taste, while her own boudoir was a
delightful little snuggery, and Edris’s own white enameled room, the
walls of which were literally covered with pictures of Switzerland and
Swiss winter sports, was charming.
At dinner that night Edris announced to her parents that she had
succeeded in inducing Seton to go to Switzerland, and they arranged a
date for their departure.
“I’ll see our mutual friend Gale to-morrow and book everything,” he
said, whereupon Mrs. Temperley expressed regret that they were unable
to go because of the General’s health.
“I know, however,” she added, “that Edris will be quite safe in your
hands.”
“Oh, I’m delighted to look after her,” he said, glancing across at the
girl. “It is rather dull for her alone when all the other girls appear
to have men friends.”
“Yes, Seton. You were awfully good to me last season.” She did not
refer to the fact that he had left suddenly for Paris. She had never
mentioned it to her mother. Indeed, both the General and his wife were
under the impression that she still loved Lionel. “You introduced me
to lots of nice people.”
“And I hope to do so again,” he said cheerily. “I’ll meet you at
Victoria, as before, and we will put our baggage together and book it
through. Be there at half-past twelve, and we’ll lunch together at the
Grosvenor before starting.”
“Excellent. We leave on the twentieth, and spend Christmas at Wengen,
as before,” said the girl, and so full of enthusiasm was she that
before retiring that night she got out her smart new ski-ing costume,
with its breeches, stockings, ski-ing boots, and waterproof gloves,
and laid them out in readiness for packing.
Once again they were both going to that marvelous wonderland of
snow-peaks and glaciers which they both loved so well.
They were so blissfully happy in their new-found affection--that
great, indescribable passion which now consumed them both--that upon
the horizon of their sea of life no cloud appeared.
They lived for each other alone, careless of the world, careless of
everything. Indeed, next day Darville found it impossible to tear
himself away from her, and it required no persuading on her part to
induce him to stay still another twenty-four hours.
And on that day they walked with Lord Simba through the woods in the
direction of Theddingworth, where there was none to witness their
long, passionate embraces.
CHAPTER XVIII.
STOLEN SWEETS
In the following week Edris came to London and stayed at her club,
but spent the greater part of each day at Seton’s rooms, and each
night going to the theater and afterwards to supper at the Savoy or
Carlton. For six blissful days they were inseparable. Then he saw her
off at Euston again.
They met in due course at Victoria five days before Christmas, and, as
he had to go to his club for letters, they took a taxi to St. James’s
Street. While in it she pressed into his hand a little packet, saying:
“This is just a little souvenir for you, my beloved,” and he saw again
that wonderful love-look in her splendid eyes.
On opening it he found it to be a new and very useful form of
matchbox.
He kissed her fondly for it, and read the little Christmas card which
lay within the packet. The words were charming. Truly she loved him.
Full of happy enthusiasm, they later on entered the Pullman in the
Continental express, and joined the Yuletide rush to Switzerland for
winter sports. Edris looked very attractive and charming as she sat at
the little table before him in her cloche hat and rich fur coat, and,
on their arrival at Dover, Mr. Hatton, the popular station-inspector,
came forward and greeted them, for he was an old friend of Darville,
constant traveler that he was. Hatton walked with them to the boat,
and stood chatting until the last moment. Then he raised his cap and
went ashore, while next moment the vessel cast off.
The sea was rather stormy that evening, but Edris was an excellent
sailor, having traveled much; nevertheless, on landing, they both
appreciated the cozy warmth of the Calais-Interlaken express, and
enjoyed their dinner in the restaurant-car. With them were several
young people who were _habitués_ of Wengen, and these they greeted
merrily, for the winter sports crowd is always a youthful and jolly
one.
That night, as Darville lay in his sleeping berth, with a young Oxford
undergraduate occupying the upper place, he reflected, and found that
he was happier than ever he had been in all his life. At last he
loved, and Edris, whom he adored, loved him truly. She had disregarded
their difference of age, and had become devoted to him. They had been
unable to kiss in public before they had separated for the night, but
she had squeezed his hand, and the look in her wonderful eyes was
all-sufficient.
As the train roared on in the night across those wide plains, where
half-filled trenches and rusty barbed wire still remain as mute
evidence of the storm of battle, he dropped off to sleep, and they
were already nearing the Swiss frontier when he awoke.
They breakfasted together, and afterwards, when the beds were unmade
and the compartment turned into a little _salon_, the undergraduate
joined his party, and Edris came and sat with him, eating some oranges
he had bought at Belfort.
“In the night I have been thinking of a pet name for you, darling,” he
said presently. “In Tuscany, where I spent my childhood days, we have
a term of endearment--carina, or dear little one. May I call you my
Carina?”
“Carina?” she repeated. “Yes, if you like. And I will call you Seti,
an unusual name.”
“Yes, I know,” he said. “Short for Seton, eh?” And he laughed merrily.
Four hours later the train slowly pulled up at the central station at
Interlaken before proceeding to Interlaken-East, which is the gateway
to the Bernese Oberland, the Jungfrau, and the other giant Alps.
Suddenly, as Darville glanced at the platform, he saw two men he knew.
They were Mr. Haller, proprietor of the Hotel du Lac at the East
Station, and one of the most popular men in the Canton of Berne, and
Mr. Reichel, of the Information Bureau of Interlaken, who had come to
the train to greet their English friends and welcome them back to
Switzerland.
In a few moments they were both in the compartment shaking hands. A
few seconds later, however, they were followed by a third and younger
man, of military appearance, tall, athletic, clean-shaven, dressed in
a dark gray suit.
“Why, my dear Weiss!” cried Darville. “You! What a pleasant surprise!”
And he shook the young man’s hand warmly.
“I’m staying here with my mother,” said Weiss, in excellent English.
“I heard from Mr. Reichel that you were coming, so I thought I would
greet you.”
“Splendid!” Darville exclaimed enthusiastically. “I’m awfully glad to
see you again! I’ll see you up at Wengen, I hope.”
The good-looking young Swiss glanced at Edris, who had already
recognized him by the photograph in her possession. And at that moment
Darville introduced them.
Weiss clicked his heels in true military fashion, and bowed before
her.
“I have heard of you as a lover of our Switzerland, Miss Temperley,”
he said. “I am so delighted to make your acquaintance. So you are
going up to Wengen, eh?”
“Yes. We were there last year,” she replied, her gray eyes dancing as
they met his.
“I hope you’ll come up and see us,” said Darville. “I’ll write to
you.”
“I shall be most delighted to come.”
“You’re a good skier. You’ll be able to take Miss Temperley for a run
or two.”
“Certainly,” he said. “It will be with great pleasure.”
As they were speaking the train moved across the town to the East
Station, where the change would be made into the rack railway which