第70章 Chapter XIV(6)

"I'm the daughter of a mother and no father, if that interests you," she said. "It's not a very nice thing to be. It's what often happens in the country. She was a farmer's daughter, and he was rather a swell-- the young man up at the great house. He never made things straight-- never married her--though he allowed us quite a lot of money.

His people wouldn't let him. Poor father! I can't help liking him.

Mother wasn't the sort of woman who could keep him straight, anyhow.

He was killed in the war. I believe his men worshipped him.

They say great big troopers broke down and cried over his body on the battlefield. I wish I'd known him. Mother had all the life crushed out of her. The world--" She clenched her fist.

"Oh, people can be horrid to a woman like that!" She turned upon Hewet.

"Well," she said, "d'you want to know any more about me?"

"But you?" he asked, "Who looked after you?"

"I've looked after myself mostly," she laughed. "I've had splendid friends. I do like people! That's the trouble.

What would you do if you liked two people, both of them tremendously, and you couldn't tell which most?"

"I should go on liking them--I should wait and see. Why not?"

"But one has to make up one's mind," said Evelyn. "Or are you one of the people who doesn't believe in marriages and all that?

Look here--this isn't fair, I do all the telling, and you tell nothing.

Perhaps you're the same as your friend"--she looked at him suspiciously;

"perhaps you don't like me?"

"I don't know you," said Hewet.

"I know when I like a person directly I see them! I knew I liked you the very first night at dinner. Oh dear," she continued impatiently, "what a lot of bother would be saved if only people would say the things they think straight out! I'm made like that. I can't help it."

"But don't you find it leads to difficulties?" Hewet asked.

"That's men's fault," she answered. "They always drag it in-love, I mean."

"And so you've gone on having one proposal after another," said Hewet.

"I don't suppose I've had more proposals than most women," said Evelyn, but she spoke without conviction.

"Five, six, ten?" Hewet ventured.

Evelyn seemed to intimate that perhaps ten was the right figure, but that it really was not a high one.

"I believe you're thinking me a heartless flirt," she protested.

"But I don't care if you are. I don't care what any one thinks of me.

Just because one's interested and likes to be friends with men, and talk to them as one talks to women, one's called a flirt."

"But Miss Murgatroyd--"

"I wish you'd call me Evelyn," she interrupted.

"After ten proposals do you honestly think that men are the same as women?"

"Honestly, honestly,--how I hate that word! It's always used by prigs," cried Evelyn. "Honestly I think they ought to be. That's what's so disappointing. Every time one thinks it's not going to happen, and every time it does."

"The pursuit of Friendship," said Hewet. "The title of a comedy."

"You're horrid," she cried. "You don't care a bit really.

You might be Mr. Hirst."

"Well," said Hewet, "let's consider. Let us consider--" He paused, because for the moment he could not remember what it was that they had to consider. He was far more interested in her than in her story, for as she went on speaking his numbness had disappeared, and he was conscious of a mixture of liking, pity, and distrust.

"You've promised to marry both Oliver and Perrott?" he concluded.

"Not exactly promised," said Evelyn. "I can't make up my mind which I really like best. Oh how I detest modern life!" she flung off.