“Are you trying to tell me that Mr. Sinclair really is interested in the school?” Rebecca asked incredulously.
“Oh, assuredly so,” Mr. Carver said. “Never knew anyone like Sinclair for always having some charitableconcern eating at him. Puts me to shame. Never think of itm’self unless someone reminds me. Unfortunately for me,m’mother or Sinclair are constantly reminding me.”
Rebecca was silent. She was feeling somewhat stunned. Could Mr. Carver be exaggerating? Christopher concernedabout the welfare of others? He had in the past, of course,but she had long ago discovered that the real ChristopherSinclair was a selfish, mercenary man, who rode roughshod over the feelings of others. Yet Mr. Carver seemed tobe an honest and a trustworthy man. Well, perhaps therewas a grain of truth in what he said. She would be gladnow to know that there was some trace of conscience orkindness in the man she had loved and still loved.
They reached the end of the lawn in silence and would have turned back toward the house again. However, bothbecame aware suddenly that they were not alone. Someonewearing light-colored clothes was among the trees, andboth realized with some embarrassment that there wereactually two people there in very close embrace. Mr.Carver turned away with rather more haste than he wouldotherwise have employed and walked Rebecca quicklyacross the grass until they were out of earshot.
“Never could stand that sort of thing,” he said indignantly. “Young fools should wait until they can be sure no one will come upon them and be mortified with embarrassment. No sense of restraint. M’apologies, Miss Shaw.”
“It was in no way your fault, sir,” Rebecca said lightly. “Let us forget about it. The incident is not worthremembering.”
The music had ended by the time they returned to the ballroom. Rebecca excused herself and pushed through thecrowd that surrounded the floor. She did not know whereto go. If she went to the ladies’ withdrawing room, she would encounter the maids who were there at all times tohelp unfortunates mend sagging hems or detached bows.She ran hastily down the staircase and found a shadowedalcove where she could find privacy for perhaps a fewminutes. She had to have privacy. She had to have a fewminutes in which to collect herself before having to faceany more dancing partners.
She was very thankful that Mr. Carver had not seen. He could not have seen or he would surely have been evenmore embarrassed than he had been. He had thought thetwo people strangers. But she had seen. She had recognized them, both of them. It seemed incredible. She wasalmost inclined now to think that her eyes must have beendeceiving her, but she knew they had not. The gleaminggown of the lady and the light hair of the man had belonged quite indisputably to Maude and Philip. And theyhad been in very deep embrace, their bodies touching at allpoints, completely lost to their surroundings in the kissthey had been sharing.
Ten whole minutes passed before Rebecca came out of her place of hiding and climbed the stairs to the ballroomagain. She had blanked her mind. It was merely one moreproblem that she must consider when she had leisure inwhich to do so. Her face was composed, her walk unhurried.
The first person she saw when she reentered the ballroom was Maude, who was standing close to the door, apparently in the process of refusing to dance with anearnest young man, who was bowing elegantly before her.She was, Rebecca saw in one hasty glance, as white as thegown she wore and in very obvious distress. Her handstwisted the fan that she held as if she were intent onbreaking it. There was no sign of Philip.
The trouble with coming to a social event with other people, Rebecca thought ruefully, was that one had toawait their pleasure at the end of the evening. She wouldhave liked nothing more than to return home so that shecould crawl into bed and escape into merciful sleep. Her life and emotions were becoming hopelessly tangled. She very much feared that she was about to lose all her faith inhumanity. Could no one be depended upon to act true tocharacter? Philip! He had never so much as kissed her.And Maude? Rebecca could have sworn that she was thesoul of dignity and honor and sweetness.
Rebecca looked around her. Harriet, she was relieved to see, was not with Christopher, though she could no longerbe sure even of her own motives. Was she watching thatrelationship out of a concern for the welfare of Harriet, orout of a concern that Christopher might be ensnared by herand lead a life of misery with such a selfish partner?However it was, all seemed safe for the moment. Harrietwas being led onto the floor by a smiling Mr. Bartlett. Shetoo was smiling and blushing. He must have just paid her acompliment. She hoped that poor Mr. Bartlett would notdevelop atendrefor Harriet. He deserved better than that.
“Will you dance, Becky?”
She spun around to look into the blue eyes very close to her.
“It is a waltz,” Christopher said, “and I observed earlier that you perform the dance with great competence.”
Even as she placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her onto the floor, Rebecca’s mind began to come outof its stupor. Was she mad? This was the very last thingshe wanted to be doing at the moment. And how could hehave the effrontery to have asked her? A waltz, too—thethird and last of the evening. She would have thought thathe would be as anxious to avoid her as she was to avoidhim. Or did he want the satisfaction of conquering herheart again? Rebecca turned to face him, her expressiongrim, and placed one hand on his shoulder and the other inhis.
He said nothing for a while but held her loosely and guided her expertly and gracefully through the movementsof the dance. Rebecca kept her eyes on the silver buttonsof his waistcoat.
“I knew,” he said finally, “that the longer I left it without saying anything to you, the more embarrassed we would be to meet. I had to talk to you this evening,Becky.”
“I cannot think that there is anything for either of us to say.” She spoke so quietly that he had to bend his headtoward her to hear the words. “Our acquaintance came toan end many years ago. We are strangers now.”
“Yes,” he said after a short silence. His voice was strained. “You are right. You have made a good life foryourself, Becky. You do a great deal of good; you matterto a large number of people. And you have chosen a goodman for a husband. Philip Everett must be one of the fewmen worthy of your love. These facts make my behaviorof a few afternoons ago the more reprehensible. I can sayin my own defense only that I did not intend to do what Idid. My behavior was unforgivable. I ask your forgiveness, Becky. You have a generous heart, I know.”
She darted him an astonished look. What game was he playing now? She could not understand and dared not try.Her faith in her own judgment had been severely shakenover the last few hours..
“I think we should forget the whole matter,” she said to his silver buttons again. “I would prefer to forget it,Christopher.”
“Yes,” he said, “if you wish.”
They danced silently for a few minutes, Rebecca almost dizzy with her confused thoughts and with his nearness.She was afraid that her hand was trembling in his, but shecould neither know for sure nor do anything to prevent itshappening.
“What do you know of Stanley Bartlett?” he asked unexpectedly at last.
“Mr. Bartlett?” she asked, looking directly into his eyes in her surprise. “He is Maude’s brother. He knewyou in London, I believe.”
“Oh?” he said. “He admitted as much, did he?”
“Is there any reason that he should not?” she asked. She could feel indignation rising in her. Was he anxious toknow how much of the truth about himself Mr. Bartlett had told?
He looked searchingly into her eyes. “I wish you would have a care for your cousin, Becky,” he said hesitantly.
“What?” she said. “You mean Harriet? Are you trying to tell me that she may be in some danger from Mr.Bartlett?” She almost laughed in her incredulity.
