Such is love (20 page)

"And even that wouldn't," was Mrs. Vilner's cynical amendment. "The father is given as "unknown". I took care of that."

Gwyneth winced slightly, but she made no comment.

"So that, as things are"—Mrs. Vilner was positively cheerful again—"Terry will probably marry this girl and remain silent because it suits him as well as you?"

"It's at least possible. It's a beastly position, but I don't see that there is anything else I can do."

"Of course there isn't! Even now the position is anything but secure, but the most powerful guarantee you can have is that this man's own interests happen to run in line with yours. Does he know about the child, as well as everything else?" she added sharply.

"He guessed as soon as he saw Toby," Gwyneth said shortly.

"And it made no difference?"

"What sort of difference do you suppose it would

"Oh, I was only thinking that the hardest and most contemptible of men can sometimes wallow in sentiment over any reproduction of themselves. It's an odd thing, parenthood,"

"Yes," Gwyneth said slowly, "it is. But I don't think you need worry about Terry being violently attached to Toby. I should say he has no feeling about him at all."

"Splendid," Mrs. Vilner said heartily, as Toby's voice sounded in the hall.

He came running in a moment later, full of interest as usual because there was a visitor. He kissed Gwyneth and went at once to Mrs. Vilner.

"Hello. Are you my granny?" he asked.

It was not the happiest form of introduction, and Gwyneth bit her lip, but Toby immediately and innocently retrieved the position by leaning against Mrs. Vilner and saying:

"You're not at all old, are you?"

"A great deal older than you are," Mrs. Vilner said, patting his cheek. "What makes you think I'm your grandmother?"

"Betty said my granny was coming to tea."

"I see. Does he call you Mother and Father, Gwyneth?"

Gwyneth nodded, while Toby said:

"I call her Mummy. She is my mummy."

Gwyneth bit her lip again and Mrs. Vilner smiled dryly.

"And my daddy is at the office. He has to work very hard."

"Does he?"

Toby nodded. "Yes, he does. To make lots of money," he added informatively.

"So that you can spend it?"

Toby looked rather serious at that, and slowly dragged two pennies from the pocket of his small trousers.

He was still" regarding them when Van came in a moment or two later, and Gwyneth called him to come to tea.

Van greeted his mother-in-law quite agreeably. They neither liked nor disliked each other, and their relations were always completely on the surface. As he bent to kiss Gwyneth and to ruffle Toby's hair, Toby pushed his two pennies under Van's notice.

"Did you have to work very hard for these?" he asked, his voice even more than usually gruff with anxiety.

"Um? What's that?" Van examined the pennies. "I don't think so. Are they special pennies?"

"They're my pennies," Toby explained.

Van smiled slightly, still rather puzzled.

"Why should I have to work hard for these?"

"My granny^" stated Toby firmly, "said you had to work hard to make money for me to spend."

"I see." Van took the pennies thoughtfully in his rather long fingers. "Well, what can we do about it?"

Toby put his hands behind him, though his eyes remained longingly on the pennies.

"I don't want them," he said with palpable inaccuracy.

"Don't you?"

Toby shook his head.

"Because I have to work for them?*'

Toby nodded.

With a sudden laugh. Van caught him up and hugged him.

"You little goose! You don't make any difference. I don't have to work any harder because I have you. I shouldn't mind if I had to," he added with a quick.kiss on Toby's cheek.

"Why, Van, how fond you are of that child," Mrs. Vil-ner exclaimed with a surprised laugh, and Van flushed slightly.

"Of course," he said shortly, and held Toby for a moment longer.

"Toby is strangely like me when he looks at Van in that way," thought Gwyneth suddenly, as she watched this scene without comment. The child looked extremely fair with his face very near Van's dark cheek, and his wide blue eyes were very like his mother's, as he slowly took back his pennies. It was true—he did look at Van with the same air of loving gratitude that her eyes expressed when she thanked him for being good to her.

"Well—^now tea." Van seemed a little impatient of this scene, now he came to think about it, and he changed the subject at once, "Paula came in to see me in the office today—though she knows she is not supposed to," he added in parenthesis. "However, that makes no difference

to her, of course, especially when she has what she considers good news. I hardly think it will please you, though, Gwyn," he added with a smile.

"No? What is it?"

"She's going to marry her Terry. The whole thing has got as far as a handsome engagement ring, and I understand they won't be wasting very much time on a long engagement. The idea is to be married fairly early in the New Year.

Gwyneth paled slightly and bit her lip.

"Do her parents approve?"

"Oh, apparently, quite heartily. I don't think he's got very much money, but then, of course, Paula will have a great deal."

"And they have no objection to her husband living on her?"

Van shrugged.

"I expect it will be arranged a little more tactfully than that, Gwyn."

"It's the same thing, whatever you call it." The contempt and bitterness in her voice made her husband raise his eyebrows.

"You're really rather hard on him." Then he turned to Mrs. Vilner, whose expression of mild interest would not have disgraced a professional actress. "Paula is a young cousin of mine, and Gwyneth doesn't at all like the man who has been running after her."

"Well, well, why bother?" Mrs. Vilner said comfortingly. "No doubt the girl knows her own mind best. Actually, Gwyneth dear, it isn't your business, is it?"

Gwyneth looked at her mother, and pushed back her hair with a troubled little gesture.

"No," she said slowly, "I suppose you're right. If it has got as far as an engagement, it really isn't my business."

The subject of Paula and Terry was not mentioned again, but later, when Van was working in his study, and , Gwyneth had already gone to bed, Mrs. Vilner came to her bedroom door.

"May I come in, Gwyneth?"

"Yes." Gwyneth was oddly reminded of her mother coming to deliver a few words of trenchant advice a night or two before her wedding.

Advice was pleasantly mixed with congratulation this time, however.

"There, you see, Gwyneth, it has all worked out splendidly," she said without any preamble. "He stands to lose at least as much as you if he talks. It's quite wonderful that you should have such a safeguard."

"Quite wonderful," Gwyneth agreed a trifle dryly. "But I must say I wish Paula had a few safeguards, too."

"Oh, she'll do very well," Mrs. Vilner declared, with a fine disregard for anything which happened outside her own immediate circle. "And I must congratulate you on your management of Vaffaire Toby, too. Van is as docile as can be. You have trained him wonderfully.

"Van loves Toby," Gwyneth said coldly. "That's all there is to it."

"Oh, no doubt." Her mother spoke almost absently, and her daughter looked at her curiously.

"You haven't the faintest feeling about him, have you?" she said.

"Who?—^Van? I'm really most attached to him," Mrs. Vilner exclaimed.

"No, I didn't mean Van. I meant Toby."

"Why should I have any overwhelming feeling about him? I hardly know the child. Quite a dear little fellow, of course."

"Mother, he's your grandchild," Gwyneth said slowly. "Your only grandchild. Doesn't that make any difference?"

Mrs. Vilner shrugged very slightly.

"In the circumstances, I had almost overlooked the fact," she admitted quite coolly. "Naturally, I haven't any of the usual feeling about him. No doubt I shall get fond of him in time."

"No doubt," Gwyneth agreed dryly as she bade her mother good night. But she watched her go, with the faintest smile of protest. Her mother would never grow fond of Toby, because she would never grow fond of anyone.

It didn't matter, of course, because darling Toby didn't really need her. He had his mother now—and he had Van. Van, who was so good to him and so fond of him. Sometimes he looked at Toby as he might have looked at a son of his own. Or was that just a happy fancy?

Anyway, as Gwyneth put up her hand to switch out the light, she gaye a quick sigh of content. Without looking at things quite as Mother did, one could dare to hope that the problem of Toby and the problem of Paula had rather settled themselves.

CHAPTER NINE

Mrs. Vilner stayed only a couple of days with her daughter after that. She had found out all that she had come to find" out, and, so far as she could see, the situation was satisfactory.

At least, considering all the very dangerous elements which went to its make-up, the situation was satisfactory.

"Now remember, Gwyneth," she said, as she bade her daughter good-bye, "you really owe it to Van and the child, too, to keep silent. Don't have any more quixotic ideas about saving unintelligent young women from the results of their own folly. This Paula seems to be quite blessedly dense. She simply doesn't want you to cut your throat on her behalf. In any case, of course, she is as likely as not to be happy with this man. Quite a lot of women would far rather have a bounder than no man at all. She may be that kind of woman."

"You needn't worry," Gwyneth said. "If I think Paula is likely to be reasonably happy with Terry—and it does seem more than likely—I certainly shouldn't interfere for the sake of interfering."

"Very sensible," her mother approved. And she took her way back to her home in the country, fairly sure that, for the moment at least, her daughter could be relied on to do what she herself called *the sensible thing'.

That afternoon, Paula came to see Gwyneth.

She was looking extremely happy, and prettier than ever.

"Oh, Gwyn dear, I have so wanted to see youl Because after I had called in to see Van and had told him instead of you, I thought how cowardly and silly it seemed, and I wondered if you were offended."

"Not in the least." Gvi^^neth laughed as she returned Paula's kiss. "I'm really very glad indeed if you think you're going to be happy with Terry."

"Why, of course I am. It's the best and loveliest thing

that ever happened to me, and, thank heaven, the parents haven't been too sticky!"

"Have they been "sticky" at all?"

"Well"—Paula made a little face—"Terry really hasn't got much money, you know." (Gwyneth just bit back a dry "No, he never had.") "But, as Daddy very sensibly said in the end, one hardly expects artists to, somehow. And of course, I have quite a disgusting lot myself, and it's stupid to let that stand in the way, isn't it? I mean, the money's there, so why shouldn't we be happy on it, without bothering about which of us it belongs to?"

"Very altruistic," Gwyneth commented with a smile, but she was secretly thinking that it might not be at all a bad thing to have Terry financially dependent on his wife, j At least, that would be a sharp inducement for him to behave himself.

"Gwyneth, you—you don't feel awful about it any more, do you?" Paula was looking at her very anxiously.

"No. I never did feel "awful", in the sense you mean

" Gwyneth broke off a little embarrassedly. It was

rather difficult to see how to make the changeover. But ^ she tried again. "It would be silly to pretend that I think ' well of Terry, because I don't, Ijut perhaps I never saw anything but the bad side of him "

"That was it, of course," Paula interrupted eagerly. "I know he has faults, of course, but then who hasn't?"

Gwyneth suppressed the reply she would like to have made to this comfortable platitude, and patted Paula's arm.

"Anyway, Paula dear, if you're happy and your parents approve, and Terry looks like making you"—she swallowed slightly—"a good husband, it certainly isn't my , business to try to make trouble."

"Oh, Gwyn! I'm so glad you feel like that. I really thought you would, in the end, but I was quite miserable at the idea that you might be feeling unhappy because— because—you know what."

Gwyneth saw she was still under the misapprehension that, once having loved Terry, one could scarcely do anything but go on loving him. i

"Don't think about that any more. If you want me to ; put it into words, I adore my own husband, and there isn't another man in the world so far as I'm concerned."

"Really? I can't imagine anyone feeling like that about Van. Still, he's very nice. Love's a queer thing," she added profoundly.

And Gv^'yneth thought that indeed it was, if it made Paula find Terry perfect while she couldn't understand what anyone saw in Van.

"You know, really my people are rather old sports when it comes to the point," Paula remarked after a short pause.

"Yes?" Gwyneth smiled inquiringly. "You mean because they are letting you do what you want?"

"Oh no—at least, not only that. But my father was frightfully understanding in the end about it being a rather rotten position for Terry if he had to—^well, to feel that all the money was mine."

"Oh?" Gwyneth's exclamation this time was faintly alarmed as well as questioning. "What did he do in order to—spare Terry's feelings?"

"He's actually settling quite a large sum of money on him."

"Paula, he's not!" Not for the first time, Gwyneth reflected for an incredulous moment on the extreme gullibility of strict people—once they decide to relax.

"Yes, he is. As a matter of fact, you know, it's very sensible as well as sweet of him. He would leave Terry quite a bit, in the ordinary way, and this gets round death duties and that sort of thing quite satisfactorily."

"But, Paula, why not settle it on you?"

"Oh, I inherited quite a lot from my grandparents. There's a good deal of money in our family, one way and another," she added carelessly, and Gwyneth wondered if she had made that very attractive statement to Terry, too. If so, it was no wonder he identified himself so closely with them! "It would be ridiculous," Paula went on in a reasonable tone, "if, just for the sort of greedy principle of the thing, I hung on to everyj^ing and poor Terry was just a rich woman's husband."