Part 52

"And you are looking well, charming," he went on, and he seated himself and carefully planted his neat boots side by side. "For the summer there's nothing equal to the seashore. You are surprised to see me?"

"I thought you were abroad," said Mildred.

"So I was--until yesterday. I came back because my men had found you. And I'm here because I venture to hope that you have had enough of this foolish escapade. I hope we can come to an understanding. I've lost my taste for wandering about. I wish to settle down--to have a home and to stay in it. By that I mean, of course, two or three--or possibly four--houses, according to the season." Mildred sent her glance darting about. The little general saw and began to talk more rapidly. "I've given considerable thought to our--our misunderstanding. I feel that I gave too much importance to your--your-- I did not take your youth and inexperience of the world and of married life sufficiently into account. Also the first Mrs. Siddall was not a lady--nor the second. A lady, a young lady, was a new experience to me. I am a generous man. So I say frankly that I ought to have been more patient."

"You said you would never see me again until I came to you," said Mildred. As he was not looking at her, she watched his face. She now saw a change--behind the mask. But he went on in an unchanged voice:

"Were you aware that Mrs. Baird is about to sue her husband for a separation--not for a divorce but for a separation--and name you?"

Mildred dropped limply back in her chair.

"That means scandal," continued Siddall, "scandal touching my name--my honor. I may say, I do not believe what Mrs. Baird charges. My men have had you under observation for several weeks. Also, Mrs. Brindley is, I learn, a woman of the highest character. But the thing looks bad--you hiding from your husband, living under an assumed name, receiving the visits of a former admirer."

"You are mistaken," said Mildred. "Mrs. Baird would not bring such a false, wicked charge."

"You are innocent, my dear," said the general.

"You don't realize how your conduct looks. She intends to charge that her husband has been supporting you."

Mildred, quivering, started up, sank weakly back again.

"But," he went on, "you will easily prove that your money is your inheritance from your father. I assured myself of that before I consented to come here."

"Consented?" said Mildred. "At whose request?"

"That of my own generosity," replied he. "But my honor had to be reassured. When I was satisfied that you were innocent, and simply flighty and foolish, I came. If there had been any taint upon you, of course I could not have taken you back. As it is, I am willing--I may say, more than willing. Mrs. Baird can be bought off and frightened off. When she finds you have me to protect you, she will move very cautiously, you may be sure."

As the little man talked, Mildred saw and felt behind the mask the thoughts, the longings of his physical infatuation for her coiling and uncoiling and reaching tremulously out toward her like unclean, horrible tentacles. She was drawn as far as could be back into her chair, and her soul was shrinking within her body.

"I am willing to make you a proper allowance, and to give you all proper freedom," he went on. He showed his sharp white teeth in a gracious smile. "I realize I must concede something of my old-fashioned ideas to the modern spirit. I never thought I would, but I didn't appreciate how fond I was of you, my dear." He mumbled his tongue and noiselessly smacked his thin lips. "Yes, you are worth concessions and sacrifices."

"I am not going back," said Mildred. "Nothing you could offer me would make any difference." She felt suddenly calm and strong. She stood. "Please consider this final."

"But, my dear," said the general softly, though there was a wicked gleam behind the mask, "you forget the scandal--"

"I forget nothing," interrupted she. "I shall not go back."

Before he could attempt further to detain her she opened the screen door and entered. It closed on the spring and on the spring lock.

Donald Keith, coming in from the sea-front veranda, was just in time to save her from falling. She pushed him fiercely away and sank down on the sofa just within the pretty little drawing-room. She said:

"Thank you. I didn't mean to be rude. I was only angry with myself. I'm getting to be one of those absurd females who blubber and keel over."

"You're white and limp," said he. "What's the matter?"

"General Siddall is out there."

"Um--he's come back, has he?" said Keith.

"And I am afraid of him--horribly afraid of him."

"In some places and circumstances he would be a dangerous proposition," said Keith. "But not here in the East--and not to you."

"He would do ANYTHING. I don't know what he can do, but I am sure it will be frightful--will destroy me."