Wingrave did not speak for several moments after Aynesworth had entered the room. He had an engagement book before him and seemed to be deep in its contents. When at last he looked up, his forehead was furrowed with thought, and he had the weary air of a man who has been indulging in unprofitable memories.
"Aynesworth," he said, "be so good as to ring up Walters and excuse me from dining with him tonight."Aynesworth nodded.
"Any particular form of excuse?" he asked.
"No!" Say that I have an unavoidable engagement. I will see him tomorrow morning.""Anything else?" Aynesworth asked, preparing to leave the room.
"No! You might see that I have no visitors this evening. Lady Ruth is coming here at nine o'clock.""Lady Ruth is coming here," Aynesworth repeated in a colorless tone. "Alone?""Yes."
Aynesworth shrugged his shoulders, but made no remark. He turned towards the door, but Wingrave called him back.
"Your expression, Aynesworth," he said, "interests me. Am I or the lady in question responsible for it?""I am sorry for Lady Ruth," Aynesworth said. "I think that I am sorry, too, for her husband.""Why? She is coming of her own free will."
"There are different methods of compulsion," Aynesworth answered.
Wingrave regarded him thoughtfully.
"That," he said, "is true. But I still do not understand why you are sorry for her.""Because," Aynesworth said, "I know the history of a certain event, and I know you. It is, I suppose, for this end that you made use of them."Wingrave nodded.
"Quite right," he declared. "I think that the time is not far off when that dear lady and I can cry quits. This time, too, I see nothing to impair my satisfaction at the probable finale. In various other cases, as you might remember, I have not been entirely successful.""It depends," Aynesworth remarked drily, "upon what you term success."Wingrave shrugged his shoulders.
"I think," he said coldly, "that you are aware of what my feelings and desired course of action have been with regard to those of my fellow creatures with whom I have happened to come into contact. It seems to me that I have been a trifle unfortunate in several instances.""As for instance?" Aynesworth asked.
"Well, to take a few cases only," Wingrave continued, "there was the child down at Tredowen whom you were so anxious for me to befriend. Of course, Ideclined to do anything of the sort, and she ought, by rights, to have gone to some charitable institution, founded and supported by fools, and eventually become, perhaps, a domestic servant. Instead of which, some relation of her father turns up and provides for her lavishly. You must admit that that was unfortunate.""It depends upon the point of view," Aynesworth remarked drily. "Personally, Iconsidered it a most fortunate occurrence."
"Naturally," Wingrave agreed. "But then you are a sentimentalist. You like to see people happy, and you would even help to make them so if you could without any personal inconvenience. I am at the other pole. If I could collect humanity into one sentient force, I would set my heel upon it without hesitation. I try to do what I can with the atoms, but I have not the best of fortune. There was Mrs. Travers, now! There I should have been successful beyond a doubt if some busybody hadn't sent that cable to her husband. Iwonder if you were idiot enough to do that, Aynesworth?""If I had thought of the Marconigram," Aynesworth said, "I am sure I should have done it. But as a matter of fact, I did not.""Just as well, so far as our relations are concerned," Wingrave said coldly.
"I did manage to make poor men of a few brokers in New York, but my best coup went wrong. That boy would have blown his brains out, I believe, if some meddling idiot hadn't found him all that money at the last moment. I have had a few smaller successes, of course, and there is this affair of Lady Ruth and her estimable husband. You know that he came to borrow money of me, Isuppose?"
"I guessed it," Aynesworth answered. "You should be modern in your revenge and lend it to him."Wingrave smiled coldly.
"I fancy," he said, "that Lumley Barrington will find my revenge modern enough. I may lend the money they need--but it will be to Lady Ruth! I told her husband so a few minutes ago. I told him to send his wife to me. He has gone to tell her now!""I wonder," Aynesworth remarked, "that he did not thrash you--or try to."Again Wingrave's lips parted.
"Moral deterioration has set in already," he remarked. "When he pays his bills with my money, he will lose the little he has left of his self-respect."Aynesworth turned abruptly away. He was strongly tempted to say things which would have ended his connection with Wingrave, and as yet he was not ready to leave. For the sake of a digression, he took up a check book from the table.
"There are three checks," he remarked, "which I cannot trace. One for ten thousand pounds, another for five, and a third for a thousand pounds. What account shall I put them to?""Private drawing account," Wingrave answered. "They represent a small speculation. By the bye, you'd better go and ring up Walters.""Do you wish the particulars entered in your sundry investment book?"Aynesworth asked.
Wingrave smiled grimly.
"I think not," he answered. "You can put them to drawing account. If you want me again this evening, I shall dine at the Cafe Royal at eight o'clock, and shall return here at five minutes to nine.". . . . . . . . . . .
Lady Ruth was punctual. At a few minutes past nine, Morrison announced that a lady had called to see Mr. Wingrave by appointment.
"You can show her in," Wingrave said. "See that we are not disturbed."Lady Ruth was scarcely herself. She was dressed in a high-necked muslin gown, and she wore a hat and veil, which somewhat obscured her features. The latter she raised, however, as she accepted the chair which Wingrave had placed for her. He saw then that she was pale, and her manner betrayed an altogether unfamiliar nervousness. She avoided his eyes.