"He wishes to see you happily settled, of course."

"Does he . . . care then?"

"Care! Of course he cares! He writes regularly asking me of your progress."

"I did not know."

"He cannot write to you. It is not in his nature to do so. He is a man of pride, of fixed conventions. You were* the result of an indiscretion which he feels would disgrace him if it were known. You may call him a coward. But be tolerant, Melisande. Always try to look through the eyes of others; that breeds the best things the world has to offer: kindness, tolerance, understanding and love."

Melisande knelt down and kissed Fenella's hand.

"I think," she said "that I will marry Mr. Beddoes."

After that night and the day which followed it, Melisande often thought that if only one had time to prepare for shocks, so much that was tragic might be averted.

The French maid was dressing her, Clotilde and Genevra.

Genevra was chatting with abandon in front of the maid, since the latter certainly could not understand Cenevra's English.

Genevra was laced and standing in her petticoats waiting for her dress of silk and lace to be slipped over her head. Clotilde lay back languorously in her chair. Melisande was standing before the mirror while Elise laced her corset. She was laughing as she gripped the back of a chair while Elise pulled tighter and tighter.

"That's enough," said Genevra. "Assez, assez! You'll make the poor girl faint into the arms of Mr. Beddoes. But I'll wager another gentleman would be there first to catch her."

"Is it true," asked Clotilde, "that you will marry this Mr. Beddoes, Melisande?"

"It is not yet decided."

"It is a mistake," said Clotilde. "I see it in your eyes. A great mistake."

"How can you be sure of that?" demanded Genevra. "One man's meat is another's poison. One girl's pleasure another's pain."

"Mademoiselle is ready?" asked Elise.

Melisande said she was, and the ivory velvet gown was slipped over her many petticoats.

"Ah," said Elise, "c'est charmante. Mademoiselle will be the belle of the soirSe."

"Traitress!" cried Genevra. "What of little Genevra!"

"Is charming also," said Elise. "But Mademoiselle Melisande . . . ah, parfaitel"

"I have the prettier dress to-night," said Melisande.

"Is it fair?" cried Genevra. "Your prey is trapped. I have yet mine to win. Do you know Teddy's family are trying to force him into marriage with a lady?"

"He'll not be forced," said Melisande. "You'll see to that."

"Poor Teddy!" sighed Genevra.

Clotilde said: "You are in love, Melisande, and it is not with the lawyer."

"I think," said Melisande, "and everyone thinks, it would be a good marriage."

"But a good marriage is not necessarily a happy one."

"Love!" said Elise. "V amour > ma chirie ... it is the best in the world and the . . . how do you say . . . the droit de naissance of Mademoiselle."

"Love, love, love!" cried Genevra. "Can you live on love? Can you eat love? Does it make a roof over your head?"

"Nothing else matters," said Clotilde.

"Agreed," said Genevra. "//"you already have the food and the roof. What if you have not?"

"All is well lost for love," said Clotilde.

"All is well lost for a crust of bread if you're starving. You, my dear Clo, have never starved. That's quite clear to me. You have never seen the inside of a factory, have you? I have. I say: 'Give me the food, give me a roof, give me freedom from earning a living, and then ... if there's anything more to be handed out . . . give me love.' I say to Melly: 'Marry your lawyer. Play my game.' It's the same, you know, only I'm playing for higher stakes. I'll be 'my lady' one of these days. I started lower but I'm going farther up; but it's the same old ladder we're climbing. Fermor Holland has* charm. I don't deny he's a temptation. But don't be foolish, my child. It wouldn't last, and then what would happen? The best would be that you'd be passed on like an old dress. First for the use of the lady, then my lady's maid, then the parlourmaid, then the housemaid . . . then the old slut who mops the kitchen floor . . . and after that the dust bin. No, dears, I know too much. I've seen too much. Don't let yourself get passed down. Marriage is enduring; love passes. Don't be deceived by the sugar and spice. The lawyer is a sensible man. Would he marry you but for the fact that your father's making it worth his while?"

"My father!" cried Melisande.

"Of course, ducky. You're one of the lucky ones. You're like our Lucie. Her father bought her a nice promising lawyer; your father's doing the same. It's only the poor like myself who have to fend for

236 IT BEGAN IN VAUXHALL GARDENS

themselves. That's why I'm fighting for Teddy. Teddy don't want a dowry, so all he's got to want is Genevra. It's hard, but it's been done before, and what others can do so can I."

"A dowry ..." Melisande was repeating.

"I listen. I keep my eyes open."

"Your manners are shocking," said Clotilde. "Nothing will improve them, I fear. Even when you become a peeress you'll be listening at keyholes."

"They say listeners never hear any good of themselves," said Genevra with a grimace. "Who cares? It's as well to know what people say of you—good or bad. And whoever says good of anyone behind their backs? My little habits have helped me along. That's why I know what a kind papa our Melisande has got. You're a lucky girl, Melly dear. He's a very fond papa. Madam told Polly that he's gone thoroughly into the history of your Mr. Beddoes and has satisfied himself that the young man is a suitable husband for his little ewe lamb. On the day you become Mrs. Beddoes a substantial sum will be handed to the lawyer and much good business will be put in his way. I'd say he was getting a double bargain. Dear little Melly and a fortune! I'd say he's coming off slightly better than Lucie's Francis. Why, what's the matter, dear?"

"I did not know this," said Melisande.

Clotilde, Genevra and Elise were watching her. Her face was white and her eyes like blazing green fire. But she was silent for a while.

Clotilde said: "Genevra . . . you fool!"

"No," said Melisande then. "No, no! Thank you, Genevra. You are the wise one who listens at doors. Thank you. I see I am the fool, Clotilde, because I believed that he wanted to marry me, I did not know of this dowry. You say I have a fond Papa. I suppose that's true. How much is it worth to marry me! A large sum, you say. Then I am not worth very much by myself, am I. It is not a complimentary, is it . . . that such a large sum has to be offered as ... a bride?"

She began to laugh. Genevra was beginning to be alarmed by what she had disclosed. Clotilde was the first to recover herself.

"Melisande," she said, putting her arm about her, "it is a custom, you know. All young ladies of good birth have a dowry. It is merely part of a custom,"

"There is no need to explain these matters to me," said Melisande, her eyes flashing. "I know now. I have been blind-folded. Those who are supposed to love me put bandages on my eyes. Thank you, Genevra, for tearing it away. Oh, how I wish I were as clever as you! How I wish I had lived with you in your garret and seen what men really were, in the beginning. We are different, Genevra. You