The elopement gave military circles in India something to talk about for many days. Willie was at first more astonished than hurt. Men who have been seriously wounded are often unaware of the fact at the time, being conscious merely that they have received a blow. He was not proud, and therefore his pride did not suffer, as it would have with most young men. He felt vaguely sorry for Daisy, and he felt very sorry for her father, after he had seen him.
Their interview was one that he remembered. The Colonel, who had sent for him, was standing when he came into the room.
‘Mr. Maryngton,’ he began almost sternly, ‘I have to apologise to you for the behaviour of my daughter and of an officer under my command. It is a hard thing for a man to feel ashamed both of his family and of his regiment.’
‘Oh, sir,’ interrupted Willie, who was moved by the older man’s suffering, and who remembered the promise that he had made, ‘don’t blame Daisy. She may have behaved foolishly, even wrongly, but I’ve forgiven her, for I know she’s a good girl at heart. Captain Caffin’s a rotter, but there are rotters in every regiment, and everyone knows that yours is one of the best in the Indian Army.’
‘Maryngton,’ said the Colonel, ‘you’re a good fellow, a damned good fellow. I wish you’d married her. I fear you were too good for her.’ He blew his nose noisily. ‘Sit down for a minute and let’s have a talk.’
Willie sat down, feeling curiously at ease despite the other’s embarrassment, and began to talk of how he had first heard the news and of the surprise he had felt.
‘I can’t blame Daisy,’ he went on, ‘for not marrying me if she didn’t want to. In fact I think she was perfectly right. It must be wrong to marry someone you don’t love. But what I can’t understand is why she didn’t tell me all about it. I should, of course, have agreed to call the engagement off. She knew me well enough to be sure that I wouldn’t make any difficulties; and then – after an interval, of course – she could have got engaged to Caffin.’
‘My poor boy!’ groaned the Colonel. ‘You don’t understand the matter at all, nor all the wickedness of it. Caffin is a married man. He’s been separated from his wife for many years, but they’re not divorced and they can’t be, because they’re both Roman Catholics, or pretend to be.’
Willie was horrified. ‘Do you mean to say they are going to live together without being married?’
The Colonel nodded.
‘My God! what a swine the fellow must be,’ Willie exclaimed. ‘I bet Daisy never knew he was married.’
But the Colonel could not allow him even this cold comfort. ‘Her mother tells me,’ he said, ‘that she knew perfectly well.’
Willie was neither strait-laced nor narrow-minded. Although he had lived a more chaste life than most of his contemporaries, it was due rather to lack of temperament than to high principles. He knew that many of his friends were the lovers of married women, and he thought none the worse of them, although he imagined they must feel very uncomfortable in the husband’s presence. He knew that the marriage tie was looser than it used to be, and that conjugal infidelity was more easily condoned than in the past. He accepted the standards of his companions, and never worried his head about them; but young unmarried girls of his acquaintance still belonged, in his eyes, to a category set apart. Married women could do what they pleased, but that a young girl should commit adultery with a married man and bring shame on her family seemed to him an abominable thing.
It took him long to get over the shock. Perhaps it would be truer to say that he never got over it. Often he had to remind himself of the promise that he had made to Daisy. Sometimes he felt that she had obtained it under false pretences. She must have known then what she was meaning to do. He could still say to himself that he forgave her, but he could no longer have the same warm feeling towards her that he had had when he told her father so. He was afraid she must be a bad girl, after all, for she had run away with a married man, who was not only a terrible scoundrel but was also not quite a gentleman.
Willie felt that he must inform Mrs. Osborne of his misfortune and return the flask she had sent him as a wedding present. It was a difficult letter to write. Self-expression had never come easily to him, and to express himself on paper was far more difficult than to do so by word of mouth. He wrestled with his task for many days and nights, but when at last he had completed it, he felt a great relief, and in retrospect he always believed that the writing of this letter had helped him to understand his own feelings and to bear his sorrow. Too easily had he at first accepted the conventional opinion that a young man who has been jilted must be broken-hearted. Too tempting had he at moments found the obvious consolation that he had had a lucky escape. He had no desire to adopt an attitude, for he was naturally sincere, but the people who surrounded him, both men and women, were inclined to approach him on the one assumption or the other. The romantic pressed his hand and looked at him silently with sad eyes, while the worldly-wise almost gave him a congratulatory tap on the shoulder. And because he was not quite sure of his own feelings he found himself meeting the sad gaze with one equally melancholy, and responding to the congratulations by an intimation that he knew himself to be well out of a bad business.
He succeeded in telling Mrs. Osborne very simply that he was not broken-hearted, but that he was disappointed and unhappy; that he did not feel that he had had a lucky escape, but that he doubted whether his marriage to Daisy would have been a success. He had looked forward to being married and having a home of his own. He had thought it wonderful that a beautiful girl should love him, and for the first time he had had an interest in life outside horses and the regiment. But now, although he had forgiven Daisy, and was determined to retain no harsh feelings towards her, he felt sure that it was better for both of them that they had not married. This assurance comforted him, but did not make him happy. She had given him something that he had not possessed before, and now that it was gone, he missed it. He had come to look forward to life with a companion. Now the companion had vanished and he was feeling lonelier than he had felt before.
All this he succeeded in setting down in the letter which he eventually sent to Mrs. Osborne, but it took him a long time to do and, almost before the letter was despatched, he received one from England in a handwriting that was unknown to him.
Dearest Willie,
I’m so glad you didn’t marry Daisy Summers. She was not the girl for you. I never liked her.
Best love,
Felicity.
Willie had not seen Felicity since she was a child and he found it hard to believe that she was now the same age as, or perhaps a little older than, Daisy. The latter had always spoken of her as though they were great friends. This letter seemed hardly to confirm it. But Willie had noticed among Daisy’s weaknesses a tendency to claim intimacy with people with whom it appeared, on closer enquiry, that she was barely acquainted. Willie had accumulated a good deal of leave by now. Curiosity aroused by this letter, the desire to see some of his foster-family again, and the growing sensation of loneliness, almost decided him to spend his leave in England, but the prospect of an extensive big-game shooting expedition, including invitations from ruling princes, proved more attractive.
He regretted this decision later. Before he set out on his expedition he received a long letter from Mrs. Osborne. It was kind and sympathetic, and Willie thought she seemed to understand him better now than she had done before. She gave him news of Garnet, whose duties had taken him to Malaya, and of Horry, who had made a success in a small but important part in the West End. Felicity was living with her in the old home, but went frequently to London, where she saw much of Horry. Mrs. Osborne was sending him back the flask and she hoped he would keep it always in memory of her. When he returned to his regiment three months later he found a letter from Horry informing him that she was dead.