The shameless innocent

II New York

DUFFIELD AND COMPANY 1924

Copyright, 1924, by Duffield and Company

SEP II

Printed in U.S. A.

"Vvo

Chapter I

“ Yes, he’s a fine dog,” said the little groom. The little groom was a Cockney, and what he actually said was “ Yuss, 'e's a fine dawg.” Having indicated the dialect to you, I shall now discontinue it.

“ He’s a beauty,” said the appreciative friend with whom he was conversing, “ I wouldn't say but what he was a fighter.”

“ Did you ever know an Irish terrier as wasn't ? ” retorted the little groom. “ You can bet your boots he’s a fighter.”

The terrier was at the end of a steel chain, and wore a stout leather collar adorned with brass studs and a brass plate bearing name and address. The dog’s owner, General Bellamy, was accustomed to say that a fighting dog ought always to have that sort of collar. As a rule, he would explain, fighting dogs set to work by getting a good grip of each other's collars. They think they are doing great things, bless them, and then when you separate them you find that there is precious little harm done on either side.

“I'm taking him to an address on Campden Hill,” the groom continued. “ His master is off by this train.”

He indicated with his thumb the boat train, or Con¬ tinental express, which was due to depart a few minutes later from the Victoria railway station, London.

Two ladies came to a halt near the dog. They looked about them, evidently searching for some friend.

“ I don’t think we can wait any longer,” the elder of the two at last said. “ I shall miss my train if we do. Will you tell your cousins that we w T aited till the last moment ? You will take a cab and go straight home, dearest, won't you ? ”

A porter, in anxious attendance with hand baggage, suggested : “ Better find your place, ma’am. It's only five minutes now.” But the younger lady suddenly caught sight of the Irish terrier.

” Oh Auntie!” she cried rapturously. " What a darling dog ! Isn't he perfect ? ”

She stooped down to pat the terrier.

” Better take care, Miss,” said the groom. “ I don't guarantee him. He may be a bad-tempered one for aught I know.”

” Glorinda, do take care,” the elder lady remonstrated. ” You are so reckless with dogs.”

Glorinda stooped lower, to make friends with the dog. The little groom's eyes kindled with the frankest admira¬ tion of her personal appearance as well as of her courage. Then the girl suddenly caught sight of the inscription on the name plate. “ Major-General John Bellamy ! Auntie, that must be your General Bellamy, the one you call Jacky.”

” I daresay it is, my dear. Do let us be going.”

But the niece showed no disposition to move. Some¬ thing further seemed to have struck her notice. She dropped on her knees and threw her arms fervently round the dog's neck.

" Glorinda, really you are too silly.”

But Glorinda looked up at her aunt, and said in hushed tones : “ Aunt Susan, he is called Dom.”

This time the aunt was really startled.

” How very extraordinary ! But do come along, dearest. We haven't a moment to spare.”

But the niece was not to be dragged away from her discovery. ” Don't you see, auntie, if he belongs to General John Bellamy and is called Dom, he must be called after my father.”

She seized the dog ecstatically in her arms.

" Dom, Dom, you precious, precious darling.” She looked up at the groom. “ I'm seeing this lady off by the train. Will you wait here until I come back ? ”

” With pleasure, Miss. I'll take him out of the crowd and wait for you in the baggage hall." With Cockney readiness he addressed the elder lady.

“ General Bellamy is travelling by your train, ma'am."

The porter, now in a state of nervous despair, raised his voice in a passionate appeal. The two ladies made for the gate in the barrier and passed through. The little groom resumed his conversation with his friend.

“ The girl's a stunner, ain’t she ? " said his friend.

“ She's a spirited one, she is. Look at her hair. Do you recollect that 'orse I was riding last spring ? Red Dunster was his name. His colouring was just like that. Red-gold. He wanted handling, Red Dunster did."

His friend eyed him waggishly. “ The young lady might want a bit of handling too, don’t you think ? "

“ Not a bit of it. Snaffle for her. Look at the way the dog took to her. She’s a good un' she is."

Glorinda and her aunt Susan followed their porter, threading their way through the crowd on the platform. They arrived at the coach in which a place had been reserved for Miss Lancaster, and were on the point of entering it when they were startled by a greeting directed at them with an explosive energy which brought them to a sudden halt.

“ God bless my soul, if it isn't Susan Lancaster ! " They turned to look at their interlocutor. He was a man past middle age, sturdy, shortish of stature, very square set, with a thick muscular neck and broad shoulders and a deep powerful chest. Nature had invested his hair with an irrepressible bristliness; the hair of his head bristled angrily, as did his close-clipped grey moustache; his kindly eyes were indued with a mock ferocity by the fact that they looked out from under a jungle of bushy eyebrow.

" Why it’s Jacky ! " Miss Lancaster cried joyfully. " Glorinda, this is General Bellamy. Jacky, this is Dorn's girl, Glorinda."

It seemed to be General Bellamy's custom to take a careful survey of new acquaintances. He took Glorinda’s hand and looked very directly into her eyes, which met his with a clear innocent frankness. After a few mo¬ ments his great chest heaved with a deep drawn breath.

“ Dorn’s girl ? Yes, by Jove, you are Dorn's girl. There is no mistake about that.”

He continued to hold her hand.

“ Wonderful, wonderful,” he ejaculated. “ Dear old Dom. He feared nothing on God's earth. My best friend, my dear, my best friend.”

As they shook hands, the qualities they had in com¬ mon, courage, honesty, native kindliness, greeted and recognised each other.

“ Glorinda made friends with your dog,” said Miss Lancaster. ” So we were expecting to see you.”

“ He’s a darling,” said Glorinda.

“ It’s a shame to leave a dog. But I shan’t be away very long. Where are you going ? ”

“ To Florence.”

“ That’s grand. So am I. We must take our places now.”

Aunt and niece kissed affectionately.

” It is rather a shame one of your cousins is not coming to take you home. But you'll have a cab, dearest, won’t you ? And do take the greatest care of ydmrself. And we shall meet again in Florence in a fortnight.”

General Bellamy shook hands again with Glorinda.

” Look here,” he said gruffly, “ I don’t propose to lose sight of you now I've met you. And remember that you can depend on me. You young people are so self-confident. But you can never tell what’s going to happen. If you want me, send for me. Understand ? ”

He scowled fiercely, and smiled, and swung away. And when the train glided out from the platform, Glorinda remained standing there alone, in a crowd of strangers.

Chapter II

During the journey to Dover, General Bellamy and Susan Lancaster were seated opposite each other in the Pullman car. They had been playmates in childhood and had met seldom since, and each had inevitable changes to betray to the observation of the other.

The General was a man of sturdy frame and rough exterior. His rapidly greying hair was of the inflexible texture that defies the art of the hairdresser. His complexion marked him down as one who had spent his working life in the open air and in the tropics. He could not help changing physically with the passing of so many years, but in the character of him there was little alteration. Courage, simplicity, a kind heart, an unsuspicious mind, a habit of plain-speaking, these unsubtle things abide with a man and keep him young, while the more complex natures are amassing their poor treasure of wrinkled experience. So that Miss Lan¬ caster had no trouble in recognizing the Jacky of her childhood. Nor had General Bellamy any difficulty in identifying in this elderly woman the same personality as had charmed him in the young girl. Susan Lancaster had as a girl been refined, gracious, elegant; she was still so. But the years had added to her face a subtle element which had not been there before. When Dominic Swift had swooped down on the country vicarage and had carried Susan Lancaster's sister away to India, had Susan Lancaster loved Dominic ? How much had she suffered by the preference given to her sister ? General Bellamy did not know ; nobody knew, except Susan Lancaster herself. And after Dominic's departure, Susan had relapsed into a cloistered rural seclusion. As the General looked at her now, he could very easily imagine her pure unworldly face set in a nun’s wimple. He had always had a deep respect for her; she was one of the few people with whom he had ever attempted to soften his manners. “ Give me your ticket, Susan," he said, peremptorily. She handed over to him her book of railway coupons.

“ Now I want your passport," he pursued. “ Also your baggage receipt."

Miss Lancaster smiled, and gave them to him. “ The same old Jacky," she said. “ Always taking charge of everybody."

“ I make all payments, you understand," he went on fiercely. " When we arrive at Florence, I present my bill to you, and you will discharge it."

“ I will indeed," she laughed. “ You can’t imagine what a comfort it will be to me.”

“ And your keys for the Customs at Calais," he added. He tapped his pockets one after another briskly.

" Sterling money, foreign currency, passports and tickets, keys, eyeglasses, pipe and baccy, everything in its place. Gad, a railway journey is small beer, but it’s the nearest I ever get to the old times in India, when I used to take time-expired drafts down to Bombay. That was a tough job, my dear. Ha ! "

She looked at him with a touch of sadness in her eyes. Jack Bellamy had been the noisiest and roughest of all the playmates of her childhood, always hectoring and, one would have said, if one hadn’t known what a kind creature he was, bullying. And now it was thirty years, forty years, and here was the same old Jacky Bellamy, explosive, masterful, truculent.

“ I hope I shan’t give you as much trouble as your time-expired men."

" You ! "

He looked at her with an expression which a stranger would have judged to signify an immeasurable con¬ tempt. “ You ! I put you in my pocket in London and produce you again in Florence. There's nothing in it. Nothing in it."

She smiled again.

" There’s a good deal in it,” she said gently.

He brushed her gratitude to one side with a brusque gesture of impatience.

After a short silence he said," It was odd your niece meeting my dog. He’s a direct descendant of one that Dom gave me out in India. Gad, my dear, how it brings it all back to me. Now I'll tell you something. Deuced clever it was. Wonderful fellow, Dom. He could do anything. One day in mess we were all talking about the effect it had on a man when he was out a long time by himself in the jungle. One of us said he always took the Decline and Fall out to camp with him, and by the time he got back to headquarters he was talking Gibbon, thinking Gibbon, and dreaming Gibbon. Another man said he had taken out the Ingoldsby Legends once, and by the time he had been out for a fortnight, everything he said fell into the queerest sort of rhymes. Now Dom was there. He was sitting there patting his terrier’s head. That’s what brings it all back to me. He said that Browning had queerer rhymes than Ingoldsby, and the other chap challenged him to produce a good one from Browning. Dom didn't hesitate one second. He recited :

Know'st why my dog loveth me 'Stead o' Bings, Baxter or Bellamy ?

Tush man ! cease prating. I'll tell.

General Bellamy burst out into a loud roar of enjoy¬ ment. “ Gad, I had almost forgotten that.”

Miss Lancaster smiled kindly but seemed puzzled.

“ Is it really Browning ? ” she asked. “ I know my Browning pretty well and I can’t think where that comes in.”

The General roared again.

“ Of course it’s not Browning. It’s Dom. He made it up on the spur of the moment. Bellamy, smell o' me. Hal Ha ! Wonderful fellah ! ”

“ Dear Dom. He was never at a loss.”

They were silent with old memories for a little, and then the General spoke.

“ So you're going to Florence, are you ? So am I. It’s wonderful how everybody drifts back to Florence. My sister drifts there every now and then. You remember Thomasina ? The same old Thomasina. She has sent for me on urgent business. Ha ! Ha ! ” He laughed noisily. “ Thomasina’s urgent business ! I like that. She’s always in a hurry, dying or some¬ thing.”

Miss Lancaster smiled ; she did not seem to consider the remark brutal.

" And you go straight away to help her. It’s just like you, Jacky. She knows she can depend upon you. You men don’t realize what a comfort that is. I suppose you will be staying with her.”

” No, Susan,” he shouted emphatically.” I will not be staying with Thomasina. She is on the economical tack now. She lives on tomatoes and maccaroni, goodness knows why. I’ll find a shakedown somewhere and I’ll drag out Thomasina to a good restaurant twice a day.”

“ Come to our pension. The Villa Stellini. There’s room for you.”

*' I could always trust your taste, Susan. I’ll come with you to your villa. You know,” he added penitently, " Thomasina’s a good soul but she loves a crisis. So I allow her one, twice every year, for a period not exceed¬ ing one week. That’s her allowance.”

“ Dear Thomasina. She’s not changed a bit.”

General Bellamy’s thoughts turned to his friend’s niece, the girl who had just seen them off at Victoria. He ejaculated : ” So that’s Glorinda.”

“ That’s my Glorinda.”

“ H’m. She joins you in a fortnight ? ”

“ Yes. She was to have travelled out with me. But you know, when I came up to town again and saw what things were really like, the old feelings swept over me. You know how it happens, don’t you ? There was Glorinda, that lovely girl, with absolutely not a frock fit to be seen in. I couldn’t take her abroad like that, could I ? ”

“ I disagree entirely,” he retorted, scowling ferociously, as if determined to intimidate her.

She laughed happily. It reminded her so of old times. It was no use being afraid of Jacky, as many people were. His subalterns always feared General Bellamy at first, and General Bellamy simply detested any youngster who wouldn't stand up to him. He went on, “ It doesn’t matter a particle what sort of dress you put a girl like that into.”

" Doesn’t it, Jacky ? ” she enquired, in a deceptive tone of meekness.

” Not a particle. You could dress her in a sack and she’d carry it off.”

“ Oh my dear General, how little you know.”

He laughed boisterously.

" Not so little as you think. And after all, dress doesn’t really matter. It’s the girl that counts. She was a baby when I saw her last. A baby in her father’s arms. Seventeen years ago, by Gad. At Umballa. Dominic was holding her in his arms. Mighty proud of his little girl he was. She's the glory of India, says Dom, and I shall call her Glorinda.”

” He wouldn’t have her christened.”

” Not he. Dom would have no truck with parsons.”

“ I attended to the christening when she was sent home. Of course I had to call her Glorinda, but I gave her a second name, too.”

" Didn’t Dom object to your having her christened ? ”

“ Not a bit. He laughed and said it didn’t matter. And anyhow, he said, it was a poor opinion that hadn't a double edge to it.”

" That was just like old Dom. What was the second name you gave her ? ”

" Mary. Glorinda Mary.”

General Bellamy nodded approval.

" Glorinda's a bit Pagan all by itself. Mary's a good chaser, so to speak.”

" What do you mean by a good chaser ? ”

" A chaser's the water after the whiskey. That's the way they take it in America.”

" Jacky, what an idea ! ”

” How did Dominic like Mary ? ”

“ He loved it.”

” It's a grand name, You can't beat it.”

“ He used to call her Star of the Sea and Tower of Ivory.”

“ Tower of Ivory ! ” General Bellamy's thoughts dwelt on the superb girl, whom he had just seen waving her farewells from the station platform.

“ Yes,” he reflected inwardly, “ she would be like a tower of ivory. And with that mass of gold red hair crowning it all.”

“ Dom had the same hair,” he continued aloud, “ but he always had it sheared close with horse clippers. Then some artistic ass came along and told him he had a beautifully shaped head. Damn it all, says Dom, I can't cut my head off, can I ? ”

“ Poor Dom. His death was most tragic.”

“ What could you expect ? He would stalk tigers on foot. Where there's no danger, there's no fun, that was Dorn’s motto. I told him it was suicide. But you’ve done it yourself, said he. Well, so I had, and an infernal young ass I was. But I never went out and asked for it like Dom. Poor Dom. And that’s the baby l She had a head like a ball of gold, and tawny eyes like her daddy’s.”

" She has them still. She’s beautiful, don't you think ? ”

ii

" Beautiful ! Pah ! ” he exploded. " Beauty’s a cheap word nowadays. You can’t open a picture paper without seeing a row of minxes all labelled beautiful. The beautiful Miss This, the well-known society beauty Mrs. That, or Lady T'other, along-side of winners of thousand pound beauty competitions. Pah ! it makes me sick.”

” I agree with you. It’s detestable. But tell me what you think of my niece.”

General Bellamy knitted his bushy eyebrows.

" It's a case of Eclipse first and the rest nowhere.”

" You really think so ? ”

" She’s in a class by herself.”

Susan Lancaster looked him calmly in the face and said, " She doesn't know it.”

The General shook his head in violent dissent. ” My dear lady, tell that to the Marines.”

" She doesn't, I assure you.”

Again the General shook his head.

" Impossible ! ”

Miss Lancaster explained.

"You know what Dom was ? ”

" I do indeed. Dom was, if I may be pardoned the expression, a devil of a fellow.”

" And Glorinda's temperament was likely to be the same as Dorn's, was it not ? ”

" Well, after all, you know, a man's a man- and a woman's a woman.”

" Still there was a danger ? ”

" Perhaps. Yes, I daresay you're right.”

" So I brought her up quietly, oh very, very quietly, in my cottage away out in a country place. She had a governess.”

" Then you kept her busy with her lessons.”

" Glorinda's no blue-stocking. But she has been nicely educated. She's beginning to suspect that she's unusual, because people stare at her. Even these two days in London have made a difference/*

“ They would,” laughed the General.

Susan Lancaster looked at him hesitatingly. At last with diffidence she ventured.

" In other things-,” she paused. The General

concentrated on her. She laughed a little nervously. ” I must confess-/’ she hesitated again.

” Come now, what must you confess ? You said other things. Rather important, what ? ”

“I'm afraid she's unusually ignorant of—other things.”

“ Ha ! ” General Bellamy eyed her shrewdly. “ That won't do, you know. She’s got to know these other things. It’s no use keeping young people too long in the dark. If you don’t hurry up, someone else will do it.”

“ I was afraid of that. I was going to do it in Florence.”

The General’s small eyes twinkled. How much information and precisely of what sort would this sweet and charming and cloistered maid of fifty-five impart to that other sweet and charming and cloistered maid of eighteen ? How much was she in a position to impart ? How much did she know herself ? He chuckled inwardly. " Well,” he reflected in silence, “ we all think we know a deuce of a lot.”

” They do grow up so quickly,” Miss Lancaster said sadly. “ To-day she's a rosebud ; to-morrow she’ll be a flower in full bloom.”

” She's in full bloom already.”

” Oh don't say that. I can't bear it. It means losing her.”

The General grunted.

" H'm. And she joins you in a fortnight.”

” Yes."

“ And then she’s to be initiated into the ways of this wicked world ? Other things, as you call them.”

She saw doubt in his eye.

“ What have you got in your mind, Jacky ? Tell me.”

“ I was just thinking. She’s receptive ? ”

" Intensely.”

” She’s having a fortnight in London ? ”

“ Well, why not ? She’ll be very busy and she’s staying with her cousins.”

" You won't have to trouble.”

“ About what ? ”

" About telling her—other things.”

" Don’t you think so? ”

A flash of anxiety crossed her face. But it gave way to a bright and confident smile.

" Ah, you don’t know Glorinda. She’s the dearest girl in the world.”

Chapter III

Gently and considerately, as if fearing to snap the cords of love that bound together the passengers and the friends whom they were leaving behind them, the train glided out of the station. The last fluttering handkerchief was lost to view; the last eager head was withdrawn into a place of safety. And Glorinda turned away, towards London.

She smiled as she thought of her aunt's old friend, General Bellamy. She was glad that her aunt had found someone to look after her. The General, with his kind and masterful ways, seemed fully equal to the obligation. But to Glorinda the General was more than that. He was a link, a strong link, with the thrilling past that held her father. He had been her father's friend, his best friend, and so to her he was both a new friend and an old one. When she had looked straight into General Bellamy's eyes, she had seen strength there, and a kindly helpfulness, and loyalty; and on the instant there was added to her a new thing, a thing which she understood now, as she had not understood it before.

“ Friendship," she mused. “ That is friendship. Now I know."

Even Aunt Susan had now become more of a link with that precious past. General Bellamy’s explosive heartiness had somehow thrown a flashing light on a far distant intimacy ; it had thrown into relief the vitality and worth of an ancient friendship that had seemed expiring. It was very dear, Glorinda thought, but there was a sadness in it.

Glorinda had been for some time aware that she and her aunt were gradually changing places. The aunt, from being the protector, was becoming the protected one. How odd it was to think of her aunt and the gruff old General ever having been children and playmates 14 together. How odd it was to think of their ever having been young at all. How strange that they should still be the same people as when they were children. One ought to be very very kind to the old, she reflected. There was so little of anything left for them.

It was a curious crowd on the platform and one not to be easily analyzed by a girl who had come straight up from the country. Some of those who were there seemed to have a sort of status, as regular frequenters. They were the permanent acolytes of the seasonal rites of seeing-off.

The names of foreign resorts and hotels, of headwaiters and noted chefs rattled glibly from their lips. Alphonse of the Bristol had gone to the Ritz, and Karl of the Ritz had gone to the Continental. Marietta was still at the Carlton. Lady This was going to Rome, and Bertie That was going first to one place and then on to another. The quick disjointed chatter was eagerly swallowed by listeners who made mental notes of it and adjusted their programmes accordingly. The small arms ammunition of social intercourse was being dis¬ tributed and pouched at high speed. An alien and unregarded note in the loquacious crowd might perhaps be struck in some tense-faced Anglo-Indian woman, strung up to endure a three years’ separation from her husband, and hastening blindly back to her children and her cheap lodgings.

Glorinda moved slowly towards the exit barrier. The small knots of gossipers amused her with their glibness and the metallic hardness of their speech. The un¬ dressedness of the women too was entertaining, as a novelty. When they moved, their figures quivered without restraint. Glorinda was puzzled until she suddenly remembered having been told to look out for jazz. This to be sure was jazz ; a jigging light-hearted inconsequence, an affectation of a sort of crazy flippancy, very odd. Glorinda thought they looked quite goodi6 natured and harmless, really. An elderly girl, dressed in bright green, with a flamingo feather boa round her naked neck, swung away from a group and cannoned back¬ wards into Glorinda, and, without looking round, said “ Damn.” Then she turned perfunctorily, and looked Glorinda up and down. Her eyes snapped curiously, and she turned to her friends, and they all looked curiously and their eyes snapped. There was seemingly something in Glorinda which they had ceased to be accustomed to encounter. An old-fashioned beau who had witnessed Glorinda's yielding movements and her gracious kindly smile would have described her as possessing natural nobility and courtesy. Not so the jazz girls.

“ Some girl.”

” Gustus John.”

" And then more.”

“ Coat and skirt I ”

A silly giggle.

“ Straight out of the ark.”

“ Into the movies.”

” I want to dress her.”

” Paint her.”

” Me too.”

And so on, snap snap.

Glorinda moved placidly on towards the barrier. She felt disposed to smile at these people, who were effective in their own way, like marionettes, although their way was not Aunt Susan's way. I could never, she reflected, talk in flashes and jerks as they do. She looked curiously at the men ; caught indeed a glance or two directed at her, and averted more or less quickly. Already keenly aware of being different from this throng, she thought, “ I suppose it’s my country clothes and boots. And that dreadfully conspicuous hair of mine.” The women, she noticed, did not mind staring. They looked her up and down. They were thinking what they could make of her, but Glorinda did not know that. It was a question, really, whether she took the greater interest in them, or they in her. To a girl from a secluded country parish they were bewildering, although an adept would have found them rather specially easy to classify. There were the shooting, ski-running, bridge-playing men ; there were also the restaurant and baccarat men ; there were the women who danced and golfed and ski-ed ; and then there were also the women who danced and lunched, and had themselves photographed for the picture papers in unsuitable sports’ costumes which they had purchased in Bond Street. And there were one or two adventurers, male and female ; hard-eyed, thin-lipped Casino people, with an infallible nose for a novice. But they all seemed to be, at any cost, amusing or amused. Loath to leave the platform, they chattered with a readiness and rapidity that startled Glorinda, who was accustomed to her Aunt Susan and an Oxonian vicar and slow-speaking West-country rustics.

A voice at her shoulder roused her.

“ Miss Lancaster’s niece ? ”

Glorinda smiled at the lady who had addressed her.

“ Yes. How did you know me ? ”

“ I was standing near your aunt’s carriage when General Bellamy came up. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help hearing all your names. I knew your aunt ages ago. She didn’t recognise me and there really wasn't time to explain.”