pgw.uneasymoney-第18部分

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　'I　should　be　so　sorry；　Mr　Pickering；　if　I　had　done　anything　to　make　a　difference　between　us'
　'Eh？'　said　Mr　Pickering。
　'I　have　so　few　real　friends　over　here。'
　Claire's　voice　trembled。
　'II　get　a　little　lonely；　a　little　homesick　sometimes'
　She　paused；　musing；　and　a　spasm　of　pity　rent　the　bosom　beneath　Dudley　Pickering's　ample　shirt。　There　was　a　buzzing　in　his　ears　and　a　lump　choked　his　throat。
　'Of　course；　I　am　loving　the　life　here。　I　think　America's　wonderful；　and　nobody　could　be　kinder　than　Lady　Wetherby。　ButI　miss　my　home。　It's　the　first　time　I　have　been　away　for　so　long。　I　feel　very　far　away　sometimes。　There　are　only　three　of　us　at　home：　my　mother；　myself；　and　my　little　brotherlittle　Percy。'
　Her　voice　trembled　again　as　she　spoke　the　last　two　words；　and　it　was　possibly　this　that　caused　Mr　Pickering　to　visualize　Percy　as　a　sort　of　little　Lord　Fauntleroy；　his　favourite　character　in　English　literature。　He　had　a　vision　of　a　small；　delicate；　wistful　child　pining　away　for　his　absent　sister。　Consumptive　probably。　Or　curvature　of　the　spine。
　He　found　Claire's　hand　in　his。　He　supposed　dully　he　must　have　reached　out　for　it。　Soft　and　warm　it　lay　there；　while　the　universe　paused　breathlessly。　And　then　from　the　semi…darkness　beside　him　there　came　the　sound　of　a　stifled　sob；　and　his　fingers　closed　as　if　someone　had　touched　a　button。
　'We　have　always　been　such　chums。　He　is　only　tensuch　a　dear　boy！　He　must　be　missing　me'
　She　stopped；　and　simultaneously　Dudley　Pickering　began　to　speak。
　There　is　this　to　be　said　for　your　shy；　cautious　man；　that　on　the　rare　occasions　when　he　does　tap　the　vein　of　eloquence　that　vein　bees　a　geyser。　It　was　as　if　after　years　of　silence　and　monosyllables　Dudley　Pickering　was　endeavouring　to　restore　the　average。
　He　began　by　touching　on　his　alleged　neglect　and　avoidance　of　Claire。　He　called　himself　names　and　more　names。　He　plumbed　the　depth　of　repentance　and　remorse。　Proceeding　from　this；　he　eulogized　her　courage；　the　pluck　with　which　she　presented　a　smiling　face　to　the　world　while　tortured　inwardly　by　separation　from　her　little　brother　Percy。　He　then　turned　to　his　own　feelings。
　But　there　are　some　things　which　the　historian　should　hold　sacred；　some　things　which　he　should　look　on　as　proscribed　material　for　his　pen；　and　the　actual　words　of　a　stout　manufacturer　of　automobiles　proposing　marriage　in　the　moonlight　fall　into　this　class。　It　is　enough　to　say　that　Dudley　Pickering　was　definite。　He　left　no　room　for　doubt　as　to　his　meaning。
　'Dudley！'
　She　was　in　his　arms。　He　was　embracing　her。　She　was　histhe　latest　model；　self…starting；　with　limousine　body　and　all　the　newest。　No；　no；　his　mind　was　wandering。　She　was　his；　this　divine　girl；　this　queen　among　women；　this
　From　the　drawing…room　Roscoe　Sherriff's　voice　floated　out　in　unconscious　ment
　　　　Good…bye；　boys！
　I'm　going　to　be　married　to…morrow。　　　　　Good…bye；　boys！
　I'm　going　from　sunshine　to　sorrow。　　　　　No　more　sitting　up　till　broad　daylight。
　Did　a　momentary　chill　cool　the　intensity　of　Dudley　Pickering's　ardour？　If　so　he　overcame　it　instantly。　He　despised　Roscoe　Sherriff。　He　flattered　himself　that　he　had　shown　Roscoe　Sherriff　pretty　well　who　was　who　and　what　was　what。
　They　would　have　a　wonderful　weddingdozens　of　clergymen；　scores　of　organs　playing　'The　Voice　that　Breathed　o'er　Eden；'　platoons　of　bridesmaids；　wagonloads　of　cake。　And　then　they　would　go　back　to　Detroit　and　live　happy　ever　after。　And　it　might　be　that　in　time　to　e　there　would　be　given　to　them　little　runabouts。
　　　　I'm　going　to　a　life　　　　　Of　misery　and　strife；　　　　　So　good…bye；　boys！
　Hang　Roscoe　Sherriff！　What　did　he　know　about　it！　Confound　him！　Dudley　Pickering　turned　a　deaf　ear　to　the　song　and　wallowed　in　his　happiness。
　Claire　walked　slowly　down　the　moonlit　drive。　She　had　removed　herself　from　her　Dudley's　embraces；　for　she　wished　to　be　alone；　to　think。　The　engagement　had　been　announced。　All　that　part　of　it　was　overDudley's　stammering　speech；　the　unrestrained　delight　of　Polly　Wetherby；　the　facetious　rendering　of　'The　Wedding　Glide'　on　the　piano　by　Roscoe　Sherriff；　and　it　now　remained　for　her　to　try　to　discover　a　way　of　conveying　the　news　to　Bill。
　It　had　just　struck　her　that；　though　she　knew　that　Bill　was　in　America；　she　had　not　his　address。
　What　was　she　to　do？　She　must　tell　him。　Otherwise　it　might　quite　easily　happen　that　they　might　meet　in　New　York　when　she　returned　there。　She　pictured　the　scene。　She　saw　herself　walking　with　Dudley　Pickering。　Along　came　Bill。　'Claire；　darling！'　。。。　Heavens；　what　would　Dudley　think？　It　would　be　too　awful！　She　couldn't　explain。　No；　somehow　or　other；　even　if　she　put　detectives　on　his　trail；　she　must　find　him；　and　be　off　with　the　old　love　now　that　she　was　on　with　the　new。
　She　reached　the　gate　and　leaned　over　it。　And　as　she　did　so　someone　in　the　shadow　of　a　tall　tree　spoke　her　name。　A　man　came　into　the　light；　and　she　saw　that　it　was　Lord　Dawlish。
　
　11
　Lord　Dawlish　had　gone　for　a　moonlight　walk　that　night　because；　like　Claire；　he　wished　to　be　alone　to　think。　He　had　fallen　with　a　pleasant　ease　and　smoothness　into　the　rather　curious　life　lived　at　Elizabeth　Boyd's　bee…farm。　A　liking　for　picnics　had　lingered　in　him　from　boyhood；　and　existence　at　Flack's　was　one　prolonged　picnic。　He　found　that　he　had　a　natural　aptitude　for　the　more　muscular　domestic　duties；　and　his　energy　in　this　direction　enchanted　Nutty；　who　before　his　advent　had　had　a　monopoly　of　these　tasks。
　Nor　was　this　the　only　aspect　of　the　situation　that　pleased　Nutty。　When　he　had　invited　Bill　to　the　farm　he　had　had　a　vague　hope　that　good　might　e　of　it；　but　he　had　never　dreamed　that　things　would　turn　out　as　well　as　they　promised　to　do；　or　that　such　a　warm　and　immediate　friendship　would　spring　up　between　his　sister　and　the　man　who　had　diverted　the　family　fortune　into　his　own　pocket。　Bill　and　Elizabeth　were　getting　on　splendidly。　They　were　together　all　the　timewalking；　golfing；　attending　to　the　numerous　needs　of　the　bees；　or　sitting　on　the　porch。　Nutty's　imagination　began　to　run　away　with　him。　He　seemed　to　smell　the　scent　of　orange…blossoms；　to　hear　the　joyous　pealing　of　church　bellsin　fact；　with　the　difference　that　it　was　not　his　own　wedding　that　he　was　anticipating；　he　had　begun　to　take　very　much　the　same　view　of　the　future　that　was　about　to　e　to　Dudley　Pickering。
　Elizabeth　would　have　been　startled　and　embarrassed　if　she　could　have　read　his　thoughts；　for　they　might　have　suggested　to　her　that　she　was　being　a　great　deal　fonder　of　Bill　than　the　shortness　of　their　acquaintance　warranted。　But　though　she　did　not　fail　to　observe　the　strangeness　of　her　brother's　manner；　she　traced　it　to　another　source　than　the　real　one。　Nutty　had　a　habit　of　starting　back　and　removing　himself　when；　entering　the　porch；　he　perceived　that　Bill　and　his　sister　were　already　seated　there。　His　own　impression　on　such　occasions　was　that　he　was　behaving　with　consummate　tact。　Elizabeth　supposed　that　he　had　had　some　sort　of　a　spasm。
　Lord　Dawlish；　if　he　had　been　able　to　diagnose　correctly　the　almost　paternal　attitude　which　had　bee　his　host's　normal　manner　these　days；　would　have　been　equally　embarrassed　but　less　startled；　for　conscience　had　already　suggested　to　him　from　time　to　time　that　he　had　been　guilty　of　a　feeling　toward　Elizabeth　warmer　than　any　feeling　that　should　e　to　an　engaged　man。　Lying　in　bed　at　the　end　of　his　first　week　at　the　farm；　he　reviewed　the　progress　of　his　friendship　with　her；　and　was　amazed　at　the　rapidity　with　which　it　had　grown。
　He　could　not　conceal　it　from　himselfElizabeth　appealed　to　him。　Being　built　on　a　large　scale　himself；　he　had　always　been　attracted　by　small　women。　There　was　a　smallness；　a　daintiness；　a　liveliness　about　Elizabeth　that　was　almost　irresistible。　She　was　so　capable；　so　cheerful　in　spite　of　the　fact　that　she　was　having　a　hard　time。　And　then　their　minds　seemed　to　blend　so　remarkably。　There　were　no　odd　corners　to　be　smoothed　away。　Never　in　his　life　had　he　felt　so　supremely　at　his　ease　with　one　of　the　opposite　sex。　He　loved　Clairehe　drove　that　fact　home　almost　angrily　to　himselfbut　he　was　forced　to　admit　that　he　had　always　been　aware　of　something　in　the　nature　of　a　barrier　between　them。　Claire　was　querulous　at　times；　and　always　a　little　too　apt　to　take　offence。　He　had　never　been　able　to　talk　to　her　with　that　easy　freedom　that　Elizabeth　invited。　Talking　to　Elizabeth　was　like　talking　to　an　attractive　version　of　oneself。　It　was　a　thing　to　be　done　with　perfect　confidence；　without　any　of　that　apprehension　which　Claire　inspired　lest　the　next　remark　might　prove　the　spark　to　cause　an　explosion。　But　Claire　was　the　girl　he　lovedthere　must　be　no　mistake　about　that。
　He　came　to　the　conclusion　that　the　key　to　the　situation　was　the　fact　that　Elizabeth　was　American。　He　had　read　so　much　of　the　American　girl；　her　unaffectedness；　her　genius　for　easy　radeship。　Well；　this　must　be　what　the　writer　fellows　meant。　He　had　happened　upon　one　of　those　delightful　friendships　without　any　suspicion　of　sex　in　them　of　which　the　American　girl　had　the　monopoly。　Yes；　that　must　be　it。　It　was　a　forting　explanation。　It　accounted　for　his　feeling　at　a　loose　end　whenever　he　was　away　from　Elizabeth　for　as　much　as　half　an　hour。　It　accounted　for　the　fact　that　they　understood　each　other　so　well。　It