'You have the softest lips I ever kissed,' he said.
'I wish to goodness you'd be serious,' she laughed. 'I've got something very important to say to you.'
'You're not going to tell me the story of your past life,' he cried.
'No, I was thinking of my engagement ring. I make a point of having a cabochon emerald: I collect them.'
'No sooner said than done,' he cried.
He took a ring from his pocket and slipped it on her finger. She looked from it to him.
'You see, I know that you made a specialty of emeralds.'
'Then you meant to ask me all the time?'
'I confess it to my shame: I did,' he laughed.
'Oh, I wish I'd known that before.'
'What would you have done?'
'I'd have refused you again, you silly.'
* * *
Dick Lomas and Mrs. Crowley said nothing about their engagement to anyone, since it seemed to both that the marriage of a middle-aged gentleman and a widow of uncertain years could concern no one but themselves. The ceremony was duly performed in a deserted church on a warm September day, when there was not a soul in London. Mrs. Crowley was given away by her solicitor, and the verger signed the book. The happy pair went to Court Leys for a fortnight's honeymoon and at the beginning of October returned to London; they made up their minds that they would go to America later in the autumn.
'I want to show you off to all my friends in New York,' said Julia, gaily.
'Do you think they'll like me?' asked Dick.
'Not at all. They'll say: That silly little fool Julia Crowley has married another beastly Britisher.'
'That is more alliterative than polite,' he retorted.
'On the other hand my friends and relations are already saying: What on earth has poor Dick Lomas married an American for? We always thought he was very well-to-do.'
They went into roars of laughter, for they were in that state of happiness when the whole world seemed the best of jokes, and they spent their days in laughing at one another and at things in general. Life was a pleasant thing, and they could not imagine why others should not take it as easily as themselves.
They had engaged rooms at the
Lady Kelsey and Lucy had gone from the River to Spa, for the elder woman's health, and on their return Julia went to see them in order to receive their congratulations and display her extreme happiness. She came back thoughtfully. When she sat down to luncheon with Dick in their sitting-room at the hotel, he saw that she was disturbed. He asked her what was the matter.
'Lucy has broken off her engagement with Robert Boulger,' she said.
'That young woman seems to make a speciality of breaking her engagements,' he answered drily.
'I'm afraid she's still in love with Alec MacKenzie.'
'Then why on earth did she accept Bobbie?'
'My dear boy, she only took him in a fit of temper. When that had cooled down she very wisely thought better of it.'
'I can never sufficiently admire the reasonableness of your sex,' said Dick, ironically.
Julia shrugged her pretty shoulders.
'Half the women I know merely married their husbands to spite somebody else. I assure you it's one of the commonest causes of matrimony.'
'Then heaven save me from matrimony,' cried Dick.
'It hasn't,' she laughed.
But immediately she grew serious once more.
'Mr. MacKenzie was in Brussels while they were in Spa.'
'I had a letter from him this morning.'
'Lady Kelsey says that according to the papers he's going to Africa again. I think it's that which has upset Lucy. They made a great fuss about him in Brussels.'
'Yes, he tells me that everything is fixed up, and he proposes to start quite shortly. He's going to do some work in the Congo Free State. They want to find a new waterway, and the King of the Belgians has given him a free hand.'
'I suppose the King of the Belgians looks upon one atrocity more or less with equanimity,' said Julia.