Part 15

"I was thinking of that terrifying play 'Hassan.' Do you remember how the two lovers could either be free and never see each other again, or else have one night together and then die in torture? I often think of that and I know I should choose to have the night with you even if I did have to be tortured, but still it does frighten me."

"Darling, don't think of it. We're fools to sit and frighten each other with idiotic impossibilities. Besides, every minute of to-day belongs to me and I insist on you being happy."

Hugh spoke gaily, but as he looked down at Jessica, he saw two tears hanging on her eyelashes.

"Jessica, dear," he said. "Nothing is really wrong, is it? You haven't changed your mind about marrying me, have you?"

Jessica held him convulsively, and smiled, though her tears fell.

"No, of course not," she said. "Nothing is wrong. I'm just a damned fool. I love you so and I get into dreadful panics about losing you and not having you any more."

"I'll keep you safe, I promise," Hugh spoke earnestly. "I'll always take care of you, my only love."

"I know you will, Hugh. It's all right really; I do feel safe with you. Sometimes I lose my nerve, that's all, and the other day Mother said something about not putting all my eggs in one basket."

"How silly." Hugh laughed scornfully. "What would be the use of scattering them about in dozens of baskets. Besides your Mother did it herself, and very successfully too; she adores your father."

Jessica sprang to her feet.

"Oh, Hugh," she exclaimed conscience-stricken. "I've never seen Daddy all day, and I know he'll be feeling utterly miserable about losing me. I must go to him at once."

"You're a vain creature; and anyhow, you don't want to go dashing off this minute to look for him. I'll have to go soon and you can find him then."

"Oh, dear, I suppose it's all right. I'll wait till you go."

Jessica sat down again, drew Hugh's arm round her, and leaned back comfortably on his shoulder.

"I'm not vain," she said. "But Daddy really is different. He needs me quite badly just as I need him, and often I feel guilty for marrying you and leaving him."

"But, darling, I need you frightfully. Honestly I need you more than your father. I know he loves you, but, my dear, I do more than that; I couldn't live without you."

"I'm glad," said Jessica. "We're both in the same boat then."

Forgetting to care about her complexion she turned her face to Hugh to be kissed. As Drusilla came in they broke apart from each other, but Jessica still kept her arms linked around Hugh's neck.

"Must he go now?" she asked, vaguely. "How terribly cruel."

"Yes, I'm afraid he must," said Drusilla. "Its nearly twelve and it will take you all that time to bathe and dress and have some sort of meal. But it isn't really so very cruel you know, Jessica, you've only got to wait about three hours till you have him for good."

"It is cruel," Jessica persisted wildly. "He'll never have me again as Jessica Deane. It will all be quite different and it's been so lovely up till now."

"But I'm longing for the end of Jessica Deane," said Hugh laughing.

"Don't laugh at me; you can't be certain that everything will be all right; don't laugh at me," said Jessica brokenly.

Hugh took her in his arms.

"My darling," he said soberly. "I am certain that everything will be all right. It won't be any different, only a million times better."

"Are you sure, Hugh? Are you really sure?"

"I promise you I am. Listen, sweet, I must go now and Drusilla will help you to dress and look after you, won't you, Drusilla?" He looked appealingly over Jessica's head. "And I'll be waiting for you when you come up the aisle with your father, and you must tip me a little wink when you get to me just to show me you're all right."

"Oh, darling, of course I'm all right," said Jessica happily. "I am, Drusilla, aren't I? I'm only a little crazed to-day, it's all so queer and lovely. I don't know what got me, I just suddenly felt sad for a minute. I think it was thinking about Daddy, but I'll go and comfort him a little when you've gone. Goodbye, my own dear love."

"I believe this is the only time I've ever said good-bye to you without getting an actual physical pain in the pit of my stomach."

"My dears," interrupted Drusilla, still waiting in the doorway, "I don't want to interrupt you, but--

"All right, Drusilla, I've gone; better do it quickly."

Hugh kissed Jessica, ran downstairs and in a moment the slam of the front door echoed through the house.

Jessica stood still where he had left her, staring vacantly after him.

"Jessica, are you asleep?" Drusilla asked her.

She shook her head and her eyes lightened.

"No, I'm not. I'm awake and blissfully happy. Tell me, shall I go and talk to Daddy now, or have my bath first? I haven't seen him all morning."

"I honestly think you ought to start dressing first. Daddy's all right. He is prowling round the house with everyone falling over him and carrying dishes and things round him."

"Poor darling," said Jessica tenderly. "Don't let me have too hot a bath," she warned Drusilla on the way upstairs. "I must be careful not to let my hair go limp."

IV

Dressing was pure delight. Jessica put on for the second time that day the yellow silk vest, the long gold silk stockings, and the narrow gold shoes, but added, this time, yellow silk knickers and a pair of gold garters.

As she stepped back to look at herself before putting on her frock, she said earnestly: "I do hope Hugh will like my shape."

"But surely you know he does," said Drusilla reassuring. "He thinks you're lovely and you are rather to-day."

"But he's never seen me stark," said Jessica simply. "It makes a difference. I think I'm too boyish-looking. I'd like to be frightfully feminine just for once."

"But you are in that frock. It really is charming. Do let me get you into it now. I ought to go and dress now myself. And here's Mother."

"I'm all ready, darling," said Mrs. Deane. "I just came to help to finish you off. Where's Marchmont?"

"We sent her away because Drusilla was helping me and I hate a crowd."

"Well, I'll slip your frock on for you, my dear, but Marchmont had better arrange the veil, I think."

"You do look nice, Mother, in all your elegance. Is Daddy dressed too?"

"No, not yet; he's fussing a little."

"Oh Mummy, I must see him. Please go and tell him to come up."

"It will do just as well when you're dressed, darling; you really must get on."

Jessica suddenly balked.

"I can't," she said. "I really can't put my frock on till I see Daddy. It's an inhibition."

She giggled softly, and Mrs. Deane looked at her in consternation as she sat down, still in her yellow underclothes and twisted her feet, like a child, round the legs of the chair.

"My dearest Jessica," she remonstrated. "You must try to be calm or you will make us all nervous and unhappy."

"Oh, darling, I'm sorry," said Jessica, instantly penitent. "Look, I'll get dressed as good as gold while you call Daddy."

As she spoke she struggled into her frock and when Mrs. Deane came back, followed by Mr. Deane, she ran to her father, trailing her train across the bedroom floor.

"Dearest," she said, "I've been wanting you all morning. I've been shut in by a conspiracy of women. Quite shocking; I feel as if I were in a harem."

"Well, you seemed to have a good long time with Hugh, I noticed."

"Oh that was only a minute. Besides he came on business with two presents. Do I look nice?"

Jessica stepped back as she asked the question and trod on her train. There was a little ripping sound as it tore away from one shoulder.

"Oh, Jessica, you've torn it. I knew perfectly well something would happen if you got so excited. Now I'll have to fetch Marchmont to mend it."

Mrs. Deane hurried away, and Mr. Deane looked guiltily at Jessica.

"I think I'd better get out of this," he said. "It's no place for me. But just tell me, my dear, you're quite happy, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, Daddy; how do you mean exactly?"

Mr. Deane cleared his throat nervously. "I don't mean anything, Jessica. Only if you have any doubts or worries or anything, far better call it off now, than go on with it."

He spoke fiercely, and with his eyes averted. Heedless of her already torn frock Jessica flung her arms round his neck.

"You're too sweet, darling," she said. "I know it would kill you to have your daughter jib at the altar. It really is sweet of you to suggest it. But I'm all right, Daddy. For once in my life I'm quite sure, with no after-thought and no terrors. Hugh's the proper person for me to belong to. You'd better go now; they're coming to mend me."

She stood still and quiet while the train was readjusted, and Mrs. Deane, looking at the steady glow of colour in her cheeks, felt relieved and contented. It seemed only a moment till Drusilla came back wearing her gold bridesmaid's dress with a heavy mediæval green girdle falling in two strands to the ground. She was carrying a bouquet of tawny chrysanthemums and a sheaf of faintly green speckled orchids for Jessica.

"Here's your exotic bouquet, my child," she said. "And I think it's far too macabre for a bride, but I suppose you like it. And here are the chicken sandwiches," she added as a maid entered with a tray.

Another moment for eating the sandwiches, and then a kiss from her mother, a kiss from Drusilla, and they were gone to Jessica's wedding, leaving the house very still, as if all life in it were suspended.

Jessica came slowly downstairs to the drawing-room to find her father. He was waiting for her at the door.

"Come in and sit down," he advised, "We ought to give them fully five minutes start. That will be enough."

He looked anxiously at his watch and appraisingly at Jessica.

"Not nervous, are you dear? You look very nice indeed, and there's nothing to be nervous about; it's quite plain sailing now."

He patted her hand fussily, and pulled out his watch again. Jessica smiled.

"No, I'm not," she said. "Not a scrap. But you are. You've looked at your watch twice in the last minute."

"Nonsense; I'm not at all nervous. I've done all this before. It's not so very long since I gave Marjorie away, you know."

"But that was different, wasn't it, Daddy?" Jessica insinuated softly.

Mr. Deane cleared his throat.

"Well, of course, Marjorie was much older and then she had been engaged a long time and--yes, well, it was a little different," he finished lamely.

"You know quite well what I meant, darling; you're just being evasive. I meant we were rather special, you and I."

"Now, Jessica, we must be sensible," Mr. Deane looked at his watch. "It's time we were off; we must allow a little extra in case of a block. Come along, dear, and be careful with your train. Your Mother told me to see you didn't disarrange yourself."

"Kiss me once, Daddy, before we go."

"Now be sensible, my dear. Your Mother said I wasn't to let you get excited."

"Darling, stop quoting Mother at me," said Jessica as she kissed her father and took his arm to go downstairs.

"Don't let your train touch the step," he adjured her. "There, that's all right." He stepped into the car.

"Good wishes, Miss Jessica," said the parlourmaid, smiling broadly, as she shut the door and the car started for the church.

"Hugh's made all the arrangements about tickets and so forth, hasn't he?" asked Mr. Deane.

"Yes, I think so, Daddy; he's very competent."

"Well, I gave your Mother twenty pounds for you, my dear. Better have some ready money when you're travelling. She said she would put it in the purse you were taking away with you."

"That was kind of you. Thank you, darling. I know Hugh is taking heaps of money, but it's useful to have a little of my own."

"Yes, quite; that was what I thought. Surely the car is going very slowly; we must not be late." He looked at his watch again and added, "No, it's all right, still seven minutes to the half-hour and we're nearly there."

Jessica pressed his hand gently.

"Your Mother will miss you," said Mr. Deane abruptly.

"Not half as much as you will, Daddy. And I'll miss you, too. I wish you could come with me. Will you write to me to-morrow, or the next day, or very soon anyhow."

"Certainly, I will; yes, certainly. But you mustn't worry. Just take things easily; everything is perfectly satisfactory and straightforward."

"I'm looking forward to the church bit of it, but not to the reception so much. But truly, I'm not fussed, Daddy."

"That's right. There's no need to be. Hugh's a good boy; if he weren't I'd never have allowed it."

"Sweetheart, you couldn't have stopped it, not possibly; nothing could."

"Now, my dear, you must be wise, and don't exaggerate. Here we are. Be very careful getting out; your Mother said you might get your train muddy just here."

As Jessica trailed the long gold train up the red carpet, she smiled at the eager, peering faces on either side and when a hoarse voice at the top said "Good luck, Miss," she half turned and said, "Thank you, indeed," in her usual clear steady voice.

A blur of massed faces swam before her eyes as she peeped into the church from the porch, while her two small pages caught up the loops of her train, and the bridesmaids formed themselves into a procession.

"Now, Jessica, are you ready?" whispered Mr. Deane urgently, as the organ burst out into a hymn, and the congregation stood up.

"Yes, darling, let's start. I can't see Hugh from here."

She walked slowly up the long aisle, her face uncovered, her head not bent in the conventional attitude, a half-smile of anticipation on her lips.

Then Hugh's face, a deep voice hurrying through the prescribed service, her father leaving her to slip into a pew, her own voice more distinct than usual, and Hugh's less distinct, a confused interlude of kisses and congratulations in the vestry, and once more she was in the car, this time with Hugh.

"My darling," he said quietly. "My lovely, darling Jessica."

"I'm glad now that I'm Jessica Greene because I love you so."

"Only a little minute, my sweet, and then we'll get away from these people and be by ourselves."

"I don't mind them. They're all wondering if we'll be happy and if you'll be good to me, and thinking back to their own wedding-days and having lumps in their throats."

"I should certainly have a lump in my throat if I were old and dull and came to your wedding, Jessica. You'll never know how beautiful you looked coming to me."

They sat blissfully silent till the car stopped, and the parlourmaid was again at the door smiling brightly as she said:

"Congratulations, Mrs. Greene, please, and to you, too, Sir."

Jessica laughed.

"It does sound funny," she said. "Thank you, Morgan. I suppose we ought to hurry upstairs and get ready in the drawing-room. Come along, Hugh; the mob may be on us at any moment."

Three quarters of an hour later after more congratulations, a steady hum of conversation, and an exhausting atmosphere of heat, feathers and flowers, Jessica found herself being shepherded up to her room by Drusilla.

"It all went beautifully," said Drusilla. "Really Jessica, you looked as nice as you wanted to."

"Oh, Drusilla, I am so glad it's over, and yet I enjoyed every single minute, and I would like to do it all again, but of course I can't, ever. What a depressing thought."

"You silly little thing. Why be depressed because you can't have a second wedding before you've even finished your first. Here, have some tea. Mother said you must while you were changing."

"The whole of to-day has been nothing but eating queer foods at queer times, and saying thank you and dressing and undressing. I'm sorry to take my frock off and leave it behind."

"Never mind. We'll have the neck cut a little lower while you're away and you can wear it for your first proper dinner-party when you come home."

"Isn't it odd that I'm not coming home, Drusilla. I mean that I'm going to another house with Hugh."

"It's beastly. I'll probably get married myself now."

"I don't think you'd better. It would be such a blow for the two poor dear lambs."

"Jessica, what cheek! Do you mean that I'm to be an elderly spinster just so that you can leave the parents with a clear conscience."

"I'm not leaving them with a clear conscience. I wish I were, but I feel awful about Daddy."

"Don't worry. He loves Hugh you know. We're bound to feel damnably flat when the people go and we realise we're alone, but we'll get over it all right."

"Please don't get over it entirely, Drusilla. I would like to know you were missing me. Oh, Marjorie, come in."

Marjorie Sellars kissed Jessica perfunctorily. "Well, it was all very nice," she said. "I must say I liked all that gold much better than I expected to. But Mrs. Greene says she would have preferred a white wedding so I'm afraid you've put your foot in it, Jessica."

"What nonsense," said Drusilla irritably. "It doesn't matter a scrap whether she approved or not."

"I don't really mind at all." Jessica's voice was carefree. "She doesn't know much about clothes, so I don't mind and Lavinia who does know, liked it awfully."

"Lavinia looked very nice, I thought," said Marjorie. "But your other sister-in-law, Helen, is very plain, isn't she?"

Jessica and Drusilla gasped.

"You're mad, Marjorie," said Jessica quietly. "You must surely see that she's definitely attractive?"

"Not at all; I always think red hair is a little vulgar," said Marjorie briskly. "But surely it's time you were dressed, isn't it? When's your train?"

"Not till 4.45, I think, and I'm just going to dress."

There was a knock at the door and Lavinia came in.

"I won't stay," she began, "I'm sure you don't want me, now, but I had to come and tell you how nicely it all went. You looked lovely, Jessica dear."

Jessica grasped her hand.

"How nice you are, Lavinia," she said. "Not a bit like a sister-in-law. Did you really like it?"

"Of course I did, immensely; so did everyone."

Another knock heralded the entrance of the five grown-up bridesmaids who filled the room with their shining frocks and huge bouquets.

"Good Lord," said one, "she hasn't begun to dress yet. I say, you must hurry, Jessica; people are all lining up the stairs to see you come down, but you'll never get through the mob."

"Well, I shan't hurry down, anyhow," said Jessica serenely, pulling off her frock. "And I won't be a minute, now, I haven't got to change my underclothes."

"Here are your stockings and shoes, darling," said Drusilla, and Lavinia snatched a shoe out of her hand with a little exclamation of pleasure.

"Oh, I do like these lizards. They're beautifully marked."

"Here, do let me put it on," said Jessica. "And tell me, do you think it will matter if I stop on the way down to say goodbye to anyone I specially like. I do want to have a word with Daddy in the hall."

"You ought to rush down," said another of the bridesmaids, "as if you were overwhelmed with maidenly confusion and escaping from the plaudits of the crowd."

"I shan't," said Jessica in a muffled voice as she drew her frock over her head.

"Well, I think it will look nice if she goes slowly," commented a third. "And it's a lovely going-away frock."

"Now give me my hat," said Jessica, just as two quiet knocks sounded on the door. Her face flamed. "There's Hugh," she said. "All go away now; I'll be down in a minute. Good bye, my dears, and thank you all for being my bridesmaids."

"Good-bye and good luck, Jessica," said Marjorie, crisply, following the shining flock. "Good-bye, Jessica, dear, have a lovely honeymoon," said Lavinia, and kissed Hugh as he stood embarrassed in the doorway.

"Don't go, Drusilla; I haven't said good-bye to you."

Jessica's mouth trembled, but as Hugh came over to her, she smiled at him and forgot the pain of parting with Drusilla.

"I'm ready," she said. "Shall we go now, Hugh? Take my hand and let's go slowly. I hate the way they push and run sometimes."

Drusilla went in front to clear a passage, and Hugh and Jessica followed slowly down, saying: "Good-bye, Good-bye--Thank you--It's been lovely--Good-bye--Yes, we've really enjoyed it ourselves--Good-bye and thank you."

Mr. and Mrs. Rodney Greene were standing on the first landing. Jessica stopped to kiss them.

"Good-bye," she said. "I'll keep Hugh happy," and went on downstairs.

When she met Mrs. Deane a little lower down the pause was longer.

"Is Daddy at the front door?" she asked.

"Yes, darling, he's waiting for you."

"Good-bye, Mother; write to me lots and don't be depressed."

"Of course, I won't, dear child. Good-bye, Hugh; take care of her."

Another kiss and they started down again. The hall was crowded but Drusilla forged steadily on in front and suddenly Jessica saw her father on the top step. Dropping Hugh's hand she ran to him and clung round his neck.

"I hate leaving you. I wish you could come too," she whispered. "Keep on thinking of me all the time, Daddy."

"Be happy," said Mr. Deane. "Have a happy time and don't bother about us. We'll miss you, but we'll manage all right. Where's Hugh got to?"

"I'm here, sir," Hugh answered happily, elbowing his friends to one side and gaining a foothold on the top step. "Good-bye, and thank you. I'll take care of Jessica."

"Good-bye, Hugh; you're all right. And now good-bye, my darling girl."

Mr. Deane helped her into the car, and Hugh jumped in beside her, but just before they started Jessica leaned out of the window and kissed her father again.

"I do love you, Daddy," she said. "And I am so happy."

"Splendid," said Mr. Deane, stoutly. "Splendid. Good luck to you both."

He stood on the kerb as the car moved away, the steps behind him crowded with waving guests, and then turned and went smiling into the house, answering questions, laughing and joking. But he was conscious of a keen and biting pain when he remembered that the first nineteen years of Jessica's life had gone like a leaf before the wind, and at their next meeting she would be no longer Jessica, daughter of Anthony Deane, but Jessica, wife of Hugh Beckett Greene.

ET CETERA

ET CETERA

I

On the morning of her dinner party for the five other Mrs. Greenes, Mrs. Rodney Greene indulged in a spate of telephone calls. Her first one, to Lavinia, was in the nature of an appeal for help.