And Hugo let him pass, inexplicably, weakly; and at the end of a narrow
path he merged into the vague, general darkness. And then Hugo heard the
sound of a struggle, and the voices of Simon and Albert--young and
boisterous and earthly and sane. And then scampering footfalls which
died away in the uttermost parts of the cemetery.
And Camilla sat up, rubbing her eyes.
'It's all right,' he soothed her.
CHAPTER XXVIII
BEAUTY
'Hum! he's going to marry her,' Simon had said, and Albert had said, and
Lily had said. 'I knew it all along.' When, at the end of six months,
Hugo went away, much furnishing of rooms near the Dome took place by his
orders during his absence.
Yet here was Hugo back at the end of the fortnight, radiant certainly,
but alone.
'There was one little matter I forgot,' Hugo began, rather timidly, as
Simon thought, when assured that everything was in order.
'Yes, sir?' said Simon.
'I want you to be good enough to give up your room.'
'My room, sir?'
'To oblige a lady.'
'A lady, sir?'
'I should say a lady's lady.'
Simon paused. He was wounded, but he would not show it.
'With pleasure, sir.'
'To-night,' Hugo proceeded, 'you can occupy my bed in the dome;' and he
pointed to the spot where, during the day, the bed lay ingeniously
hidden in a recess of the wall. 'I shall no longer need it. To-morrow we
can make some more permanent arrangement for you.'
'Yes, sir.'
'Also,' Hugo continued, 'I would like you to go along to the offices of
the _Morning Post_ for me some time to-night before ten o'clock and take
this. There will be a guinea to pay.' Hugo handed him a slip of paper.
'Yes, sir.'
'Read it,' said Hugo.
And Simon read: '"A marriage has been arranged, and"--and--has taken
place, sir?'
'Precisely.'
'Precisely, sir. "Has taken place at Hythe between Mr. Owen Hugo, of
Sloane Street, London, and Mrs. Camilla Tudor, widow of the late Mr.
Francis Tudor."'
'You are the first to know, Simon.'
Simon bowed.
'May I respectfully venture to wish you every happiness, sir?' Simon
pronounced at his most formal.
'No, you may not,' said Hugo. 'But you may shake hands with me.'
And he respectfully ventured to explain to Simon how, in the case of a
man like himself, with three thousand five hundred tongues ever ready to
wag about him, absolute secrecy had been the only policy.
'Telephone down to the refreshment department for Tortoni to come up to
me instantly. I must order a dinner for two. My wife and her maid will
be here in half an hour. I shall not want you--at any rate, before
ten-thirty or so.'
'Yes, sir. And the maid?'
'What about the maid?'
'You said you would order dinner for two, sir.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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