The Rising Storm

Roger sighed. 'How wise you are, my dear Amanda. Yet even had I the good fortune to marry a wife so clear-sighted as yourself I believe it would be a great mistake to follow the course you propose. The nature of my Spanish love is so intense that I feel sure she would consider herself desperately aggrieved did I marry another. And though I am in no situation to marry at the moment I have recently felt more than once that I would like to settle down in a home of my own. So 'tis best for both her and me that we should not meet again.'

'If you now feel that, you are cured.'

'Yes; for I no longer think of her with any frequency, and am able once more to regard life as a joyous adventure.'

'Think you that you are now inoculated of the fell disease?'

'I trust so. It went so deep that 'tis unlikely a similar madness will seize upon me for some other woman, at least for some years to come.'

'I feel that, too; for my love also was most desperate while it lasted, and I'll not willingly surrender the freedom of my mind again. In that I intend to model myself on Georgina Etheredge; though I am not of a temperament ever to become quite so reckless a wanton as her hot, half-gipsy blood has made her. She has reduced love to a fine art. Whenever she finds herself becoming too deeply attached to a man she dismisses him and takes another.'

Roger glanced up in surprise. 'I did not know you knew Georgina.'

'I met her first when she was married to Humphrey Etheredge, then again on her return to England last October. I stayed with her for a while at Stillwaters and found her positively enchanting.'

'She is my oldest and dearest friend.'

'I know it; and you had written to her most gloomily from Lyming-ton last summer, mentioning me in your letter. 'Twas the discovery that we were both worried on your account which formed a special bond between us; for the ravishing Georgina is not normally given to making women friends.'

'I have not seen her now for close on a year; and 'twas a sad blow to me to learn on my return from France last month that she had gone abroad again.'

'She and her father left early in December to spend the worst months of the year in Italy; but they should be back soon, as she told me that she could not bear the thought of missing another spring at Stillwaters.'

Roger nodded. ' 'Tis a heavenly place. When Georgina returns we must arrange a visit to her.'

For the third time since they had been sitting there the violins struck up, so Amanda said: 'Roger, my dear, we must dally no longer, or the number of my irate disappointed partners will be greater than even my notoriously poor memory will excuse.'

As he escorted her back to the ballroom he asked if he might call upon her, and she replied: 'Do so by all means. I am as usual with my Aunt Marsham in Smith Square; but let it be within the next two days, as we leave on Thursday to stay with friends at Wolverstone Hall in Suffolk.'

On the Wednesday Roger had himself carried in a sedan down to Westminster, and took a dish of tea with Amanda and Lady Marsham. The latter had mothered Amanda ever since she had been orphaned as a child of four, and Roger had met her on numerous occasions when she was staying with her brother, Sir Harry Burrard, at Walhampton. There was a striking family resemblance between Amanda and her aunt. Age had increased Lady Marsham's figure to august proportions, but she was still a very handsome woman of fine carriage, and she had the same effortless charm of manner. In her vague way she at first took Roger for someone else, but welcomed him none the less heartily when her mistake was discovered.

Nevertheless the visit was not an altogether satisfactory one, as the two ladies were in the midst of packing. Their mutual untidiness had turned Lady Marsham's boudoir, in which they took tea, into a scene, of indescribable confusion, and frequent interruptions by the servants to hunt there for articles that had been mislaid played havoc with all attempts to carry on an intelligent conversation.

It was perhaps Amanda's departure for the country that subcon­sciously decided Roger to pay a visit to his mother. His own enquiries and those of Droopy Ned had so far not produced any suitable opening, and while he was anxious not to waste longer than necessary before starting a new career, he had funds enough to keep him as a modish bachelor for two or three years; so there would have been little sense in his jumping into a blind alley simply to salve his conscience.

On arriving at Lymington he found, to his distress, that his mother was far from well. Lady Marie had for some months been suffering from pains in her inside, and although the doctors had failed to diagnose the cause of the trouble they feared a tumour. She had not taken to her bed, but tiredness now brought on the pain, and having always led a very active life she naturally found it hard to have to limit herself in the time that she could now spend in her stillroom and garden.

Roger had meant to spend only a few nights at Lymington but, in the circumstances, he prolonged his visit to a fortnight; and, seeing his solicitousness for her, she took occasion one evening to speak to him more seriously than she had done for a long time past.

She disclosed how worried she had been about him in the summer, so he told her about his affaire with Isabella; and also that it was unlikely that he would be going abroad again, as his work for the Government had been terminated. With her usual tact she refrained from telling him that she had guessed him to be involved in some foreign entanglement, or remarking how pleased she was to hear that he was now free of it; but she expressed considerable concern about his future, and discussed various possibilities with him. However, the trouble—as had been the case with Roger on his first return from France two and a half years before—was that the combination of qualities he possessed did not particularly fit him for any career outside the fighting services.

It was not until he kissed her good night that she said quietly: 'I do not wish to alarm you, Roger; and when next you write to your father in no circumstances are you to put ideas into the dear man's head. But I do not think I shall live to make old bones.'

He knew that she was confirming his own half-formed fears, that her illness was serious; so in a swift effort to comfort her he kissed her again and pressed her very tightly in his arms. She smiled up at him, patted his cheek and murmured:

'Don't worry, my lamb. I feel sure God will spare me to you for a -year or two yet. But before I go I would like to see you happily settled, if that be possible. Mind, I would not for the world have my wish over-weigh your own judgment in any case where you feel an inclination, yet have doubts. I mean only that should you find the right girl, I beg you not to hesitate on account of your present lack of employment, or the smallness of your income. A man of your parts cannot fail to climb high, so 'tis but a matter of finding a good ladder; and I can vouch for it that in the meantime your father would see to it that you did not lack for money.'

When, a few minutes later, Roger reached his own room, his thoughts turned to Amanda. If he married her, how overjoyed his mother would bel But would Amanda be willing to marry him? In view of their con­versation a fortnight back he thought she probably would. Neither of them had any illusions left about unreasoning passion; both had been burnt by'it too badly. She did not wish to experience that kind of love again; nor did he. Both of them wanted something more gentle but more enduring. Georgina held a special place in his life that no one else could ever fill; but, Georgina apart, he liked Amanda as a person better than any other woman he had ever met. Mentally they had been attracted to one another from the beginning; quite early in their game of make-believe they had toyed with passion just enough to know that each was capable of raising in the other swift desire, and between them, like two sturdy trees, there had grown up trust and genuine affection.

Before he went to sleep, Roger decided that if Amanda felt the same way about him as he did about her, they would have a far better prospect of enjoying many years of happiness together than the great majority of couples that got married. Yet he refrained from committing himself

to any definite course of action. Amanda was due back from Suffolk at the end of the month. He would take an early opportunity to see her again and unostentatiously reclaim his position as one of her beaux. After that he would leave the development of matters on the knees of the gods and to Amanda.

But, as always happened when a fresh line of thought came to him, his mind gripped, exploited and would not let it go; so by the time he arrived in London, on the night of March 20th, he was looking forward to Amanda's return with the utmost eagerness, and was highly con­scious that in the next few weeks life might hold a new excitement and a new meaning for him.

Then, on the morning of the 22nd, a letter was delivered to him at Amesbury House. He saw by the franking that it came from Portugal; next second he recognized the careful, angular writing as Isabella's.