Red Hair

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  The Authors' Press Series of the Works of Elinor Glyn

  RED HAIR

  THE AUTHORS' PRESS, PUBLISHERS AUBURN, N. Y.

  Copyright, 1905, by ELINOR GLYN

  When copyrighted by Elinor Glyn in 1905, this book was published under the title "The Vicissitudes of Evangeline."

  BRANCHES PARK,

  _November 3._

  I wonder so much if it is amusing to be an adventuress, because that isevidently what I shall become now. I read in a book all about it; it isbeing nice looking and having nothing to live on, and getting a pleasanttime out of life--and I intend to do that! I have certainly nothing tolive on, for one cannot count L300 a year; and I am extremely pretty, andI know it quite well, and how to do my hair, and put on my hats, and thosethings--so, of course, I am an adventuress! I was not intended for thisrole--in fact, Mrs. Carruthers adopted me on purpose to leave me herfortune, as at that time she had quarrelled with her heir, who was boundto get the place. Then she was so inconsequent as not to make a properwill--thus it is that this creature gets everything, and I nothing!

  I am twenty, and up to the week before last, when Mrs. Carruthers got illand died in one day, I had had a fairly decent time at odd moments whenshe was in a good temper.

  There is no use pretending even when people are dead, if one is writingdown one's real thoughts. I detested Mrs. Carruthers most of the time. Aperson whom it was impossible to please. She had no idea of justice, or ofanything but her own comfort, and what amount of pleasure other peoplecould contribute to her day.

  How she came to do anything for me at all was because she had been in lovewith papa, and when he married poor mamma--a person of no family--and thendied, she offered to take me, and bring me up, just to spite mamma, shehas often told me. As I was only four I had no say in the matter, and ifmamma liked to give me up that was her affair. Mamma's father was a lord,and her mother I don't know who, and they had not worried to get married,so that is how it is poor mamma came to have no relations. After papa wasdead, she married an Indian officer and went off to India, and died, too,and I never saw her any more--so there it is; there is not a soul in theworld who matters to me, or I to them, so I can't help being anadventuress, and thinking only of myself, can I?

  Mrs. Carruthers periodically quarrelled with all the neighbors, so beyondfrigid calls now and then in a friendly interval, we never saw them much.Several old, worldly ladies used to come and stay, but I liked none ofthem, and I have no young friends. When it is getting dark, and I am uphere alone, I often wonder what it would be like if I had--but I believe Iam the kind of cat that would not have got on with them too nicely--soperhaps it is just as well. Only, to have had a pretty--aunt, say--to loveone--that might have been nice.

  Mrs. Carruthers had no feelings like this; "stuff and nonsense,""sentimental rubbish," she would have called them. To get a suitablehusband is what she brought me up for, she said, and for the last yearshad arranged that I should marry her detested heir, ChristopherCarruthers, as I should have the money and he the place.

  He is a diplomat, and lives in Paris, and Russia, and amusing places likethat, so he does not often come to England. I have never seen him. He isquite old--over thirty--and has hair turning gray.

  Now he is master here, and I must leave--unless he proposes to marry me atour meeting this afternoon, which he probably won't do.

  However, there can be no harm in my making myself look as attractive aspossible under the circumstances. As I am to be an adventuress, I must dothe best I can for myself. Nice feelings are for people who have money tolive as they please. If I had ten thousand a year, or even five, I wouldsnap my fingers at all men, and say, "No, I make my life as I choose, andshall cultivate knowledge and books, and indulge in beautiful ideas ofhonor and exalted sentiments, and perhaps one day succumb to a noblepassion." (What grand words the thought, even, is making me write!) But asit is, if Mr. Carruthers asks me to marry him, as he has been told to doby his aunt, I shall certainly say yes, and so stay on here, and have acomfortable home. Until I have had this interview it is hardly worth whilepacking anything.

  What a mercy black suits me! My skin is ridiculously white. I shall sticka bunch of violets in my frock--that could not look heartless, I suppose.But if he asks me if I am sad about Mrs. Carruthers's death, I shall notbe able to tell a lie.

  I am sad, of course, because death is a terrible thing, and to die likethat, saying spiteful things to every one, must be horrid--but I can't, Ican't regret her. Not a day ever passed that she did not sting some partof me; when I was little, it was not only with her tongue--she used topinch me, and box my ears until Dr. Garrison said it might make me deaf,and then she stopped, because she said deaf people were a bore, and shecould not put up with them.

  I shall not go on looking back. There are numbers of things that even nowmake me raging to remember.

  I have only been out for a year. Mrs. Carruthers got an attack ofbronchitis when I was eighteen, just as we were going up to town for theseason, and said she did not feel well enough for the fatigues, and off wewent to Switzerland. And in the autumn we travelled all over the place,and in the winter she coughed and groaned, and the next season would notgo up until the last court, so I have only had a month of London. Thebronchitis got perfectly well--it was heart-failure that killed her,brought on by an attack of temper because Thomas broke the Carruthersvase. I shall not write of her death, or the finding of the will, or thesurprise that I was left nothing but a thousand pounds and a diamond ring.

  Now that I am an adventuress, instead of an heiress, of what good tochronicle all that! Sufficient to say if Mr. Carruthers does not obey hisorders and offer me his hand this afternoon, I shall have to pack mytrunks and depart by Saturday, but where to is yet in the lap of the gods.

  He is coming by the 3.20 train, and will be in the house before four, anugly, dull time; one can't offer him tea, and it will be altogethertrying and exciting.

  He is coming ostensibly to take over his place, I suppose, but in realityit is to look at me, and see if in any way he will be able to persuadehimself to carry out his aunt's wishes. I wonder what it will be like tobe married to some one you don't know and don't like? I am not greatlyacquainted yet with the ways of men. We have not had any that you couldcall that here, much--only a lot of old wicked sort of things, in theautumn, to shoot the pheasants, and play bridge with Mrs. Carruthers. Themarvel to me was how they ever killed anything, such antiques they were!Some politicians and ambassadors, and creatures of that sort; and mostlyas wicked as could be. They used to come trotting down the passage to theschool-room, and have tea with mademoiselle and me on the slightestprovocation, and say such things! I am sure lots of what they said meantsomething else, mademoiselle used to giggle so. She was rather agood-looking one I had the last four years, but I hated her. There wasnever any one young and human who counted.

  I did look forward to coming out in London, but being so late, every onewas preoccupied when we got there, and no one got in love with me much.Indeed, we went out very little; a part of the time I had a swollen nosefrom a tennis-ball at Ranelagh, and people don't look at girls withswollen noses.

  I wonder where I shall go and live! Perhaps in Paris--unless, of course, Imarry Mr. Carruthers. I don't suppose it is dull being married. In Londonall the married ones seemed
to have a lovely time, and had not to botherwith their husbands much.

  Mrs. Carruthers always assured me love was a thing of absolutely noconsequence in marriage. You were bound to love some one some time, butthe very fact of being chained to him would dispel the feeling. It was athing to be looked upon like measles, or any other disease, and was betterto get it over and then turn to the solid affairs of life. But how sheexpected me to get it over when she never arranged for me to see any one,I don't know.

  I asked her one day what I should do if I got to like some one after I ammarried to Mr. Carruthers, and she laughed one of her horrid laughs, andsaid I should probably do as the rest of the world. And what do they do, Iwonder? Well, I suppose I shall find out some day.

  Of course there is the possibility that Christopher (do I like the name ofChristopher, I wonder?)--well, that Christopher may not want to follow herwill.

  He has known about it for years, I suppose, just as I have, but I believemen are queer creatures, and he may take a dislike to me. I am not a typethat would please every one. My hair is too red--brilliant, dark, fieryred, like a chestnut when it tumbles out of its shell, only burnished likemetal. If I had the usual white eyelashes I should be downright ugly, but,thank goodness! by some freak of nature mine are black and thick, andstick out when you look at me sideways, and I often think when I catchsight of myself in the glass that I am really very pretty--all puttogether--but, as I said before, not a type to please every one.

  A combination I am that Mrs. Carruthers assured me would cause anxieties."With that mixture, Evangeline," she often said, "you would do well tosettle yourself in life as soon as possible. Good girls don't have yourcoloring." So you see, as I am branded as bad from the beginning, it doesnot much matter what I do. My eyes are as green as pale emeralds, andlong, and not going down at the corners with the Madonna expression ofCicely Parker, the vicar's daughter. I do not know yet what is being good,or being bad; perhaps I shall find out when I am an adventuress, ormarried to Mr. Carruthers.

  All I know is that I want to _live_, and feel the blood rushing through myveins. I want to do as I please, and not have to be polite when I amburning with rage. I want to be late in the morning if I happen to fancysleeping, and I want to sit up at night if I don't want to go to bed! So,as you can do what you like when you are married, I really hope Mr.Carruthers will take a fancy to me, and then all will be well! I shallstay up-stairs until I hear the carriage wheels, and leave Mr. Barton--thelawyer--to receive him. Then I shall saunter down nonchalantly while theyare in the hall. It will be an effective entrance. My trailing blackgarments, and the great broad stairs--this is a splendid house--and if hehas an eye in his head he must see my foot on each step! Even Mrs.Carruthers said I have the best foot she had ever seen. I am getting quiteexcited--I shall ring for Veronique and begin to dress!... I shall writemore presently.

  _Thursday evening._

  It is evening, and the fire is burning brightly in my sitting-room, whereI am writing. _My_ sitting-room!--did I say? Mr. Carruthers'ssitting-room, I meant--for it is mine no longer, and on Saturday, the dayafter to-morrow, I shall have to bid good-bye to it forever.

  For--yes, I may as well say it at once--the affair did not walk; Mr.Carruthers quietly, but firmly, refused to obey his aunt's will, and thusI am left an old maid!

  I must go back to this afternoon to make it clear, and I must say my earstingle as I think of it.

  I rang for Veronique, and put on my new black afternoon frock, which hadjust been unpacked. I tucked in the violets in a careless way, saw that myhair was curling as vigorously as usual, and not too rebelliously for ademure appearance, and so, at exactly the right moment, began to descendthe stairs.

  There was Mr. Carruthers in the hall. A horribly nice-looking, tall man,with a clean-shaven face and features cut out of stone, a square chin, anda nasty twinkle in the corner of his eye. He has a very distinguishedlook, and that air of never having had to worry for his things to fit;they appear as if they had grown on him. He has a cold, reserved manner,and something commanding and arrogant in it that makes one want tocontradict him at once; but his voice is charming--one of that cultivated,refined kind, which sounds as if he spoke a number of languages, and sodoes not slur his words. I believe this is diplomatic, for some of the oldambassador people had this sort of voice.

  He was standing with his back to the fire, and the light of the big windowwith the sun getting low was full on his face, so I had a good look athim. I said in the beginning that there was no use pretending when one iswriting one's own thoughts for one's own self to read when one is old, andkeeping them in a locked-up journal, so I shall always tell the truthhere--quite different things to what I should say if I were talking tosome one and describing to them this scene. Then I should say I found himutterly unattractive, and, in fact, I hardly noticed him! As it was, Inoticed him very much, and I have a tiresome inward conviction that hecould be very attractive indeed, if he liked.

  He looked up, and I came forward with my best demure air as Mr. Bartonnervously introduced us, and we shook hands. I left him to speak first.

  "Abominably cold day," he said, carelessly. That was English andpromising!

  "Yes, indeed," I said. "You have just arrived?"

  And so we continued in this _banal_ way, with Mr. Barton twirling histhumbs, and hoping, one could see, that we should soon come to thebusiness of the day; interposing a remark here and there which added tothe _gene_ of the situation.

  At last Mr. Carruthers said to Mr. Barton that he would go round and seethe house, and I said tea would be ready when they got back. And so theystarted.

  My cheeks would burn, and my hands were so cold, it was awkward andannoying--not half the simple affair I had thought it would be up-stairs.

  When it was quite dark and the lamps were brought, they came back to thehall, and Mr. Barton, saying he did not want any tea, left us to findpapers in the library.

  I gave Mr. Carruthers some tea, and asked the usual things about sugar andcream. His eye had almost a look of contempt as he glanced at me, and Ifelt an angry throb in my throat. When he had finished he got up and stoodbefore the fire again. Then, deliberately, as a man who has determined todo his duty at any cost, he began to speak.

  "You know the wish, or, rather, I should say, the command, my aunt leftme," he said. "In fact, she states that she had always brought you up tothe idea. It is rather a tiresome thing to discuss with a stranger, butperhaps we had better get it over as soon as possible, as that is what Icame down here to-day for. The command was I should marry you." He pauseda moment. I remained perfectly still, with my hands idly clasped in mylap, and made myself keep my eyes on his face.

  He continued, finding I did not answer, just a faint tone of resentmentcreeping into his voice--because I would not help him out, I suppose. Ishould think not! I loved annoying him!

  "It is a preposterous idea in these days for any one to dispose ofpeople's destinies in this way, and I am sure you will agree with me thatsuch a marriage would be impossible."

  "Of course I agree," I replied, lying with a tone of careless sincerity. Ihad to control all my real feelings of either anger or pleasure for solong in Mrs. Carruthers's presence that I am now an adept.

  "I am so glad you put it so plainly," I went on, sweetly. "I was wonderinghow I should write it to you, but now you are here it is quite easy forus to finish the matter at once. Whatever Mrs. Carruthers may haveintended me to do, I had no intention of obeying her; but it would havebeen useless for me to say so to her, and so I waited until the time forspeech should come. Won't you have some more tea?"

  He looked at me very straightly, almost angrily, for an instant;presently, with a sigh of relief, he said, half laughing:

  "Then we are agreed; we need say no more about it!"

  "No more," I answered; and I smiled, too, although a rage of anger wasclutching my throat. I do not know who I was angry with--Mrs. Carruthersfor procuring t
his situation, Christopher for being insensible to mycharms, or myself for ever having contemplated for a second thepossibility of his doing otherwise. Why, when one thinks of it calmly,should he want to marry me, a penniless adventuress with green eyes andred hair that he had never seen before in his life? I hoped he thought Iwas a person of naturally high color, because my cheeks from the moment Ibegan to dress had been burning and burning. It might have given him theidea the scene was causing me some emotion, and that he should never know!

  He took some more tea, but he did not drink it, and by this I guessedthat he also was not as calm as he looked!

  "There is something else," he said--and now there was almost anawkwardness in his voice--"something else which I want to say, thoughperhaps Mr. Barton could say it for me, but which I would rather saystraight to you, and that is, you must let me settle such a sum of moneyon you as you had every right to expect from my aunt, after the promises Iunderstand she always made to you----"

  This time I did not wait for him to finish. I bounded up from my seat,some uncontrollable sensation of wounded pride throbbing and thrillingthrough me.

  "Money! Money from you!" I exclaimed. "Not if I were starving." Then I satdown again, ashamed of this vehemence. How would he interpret it! But itgalled me so--and yet I had been ready an hour ago to have accepted him asmy husband! Why, then, this revolt at the idea of receiving a fairsubstitute in gold? Really, one is a goose, and I had time to realize,even in this tumult of emotion, that there can be nothing so inconsistentas the feelings of a girl.

  "You must not be foolish!" he said, coldly. "I intend to settle the moneywhether you will or no, so do not make any further trouble about it!"

  There was something in his voice so commanding and arrogant, just as Inoticed at first, that every obstinate quality in my nature rose to answerhim.

  "I do not know anything about the law in the matter; you may settle whatyou choose, but I shall never touch any of it," I said, as calmly as Icould. "So it seems ridiculous to waste the money, does it not? You maynot, perhaps, be aware I have enough of my own, and do not in any wayrequire yours."

  He became colder and more exasperated.

  "As you please, then," he said, snappishly, and Mr. Barton fortunatelyentering at that moment, the conversation was cut short, and I left them.

  They are not going back to London until to-morrow morning, and dinner hasyet to be got through. Oh, I do feel in a temper! and I can never tell ofthe emotions that were throbbing through me as I came up the great stairsjust now. A sudden awakening to the humiliation of the situation! How hadI ever been able to contemplate marrying a man I did not know, just tosecure myself a comfortable home! It seems preposterous now. I suppose itwas because I have always been brought up to the idea, and, until I cameface to face with the man, it did not strike me as odd. Fortunately he cannever guess that I had been willing to accept him; my dissimulation hasstood me in good stead. Now I am animated by only one idea--to appear asagreeable and charming to Mr. Carruthers as possible. The aim and objectof my life shall be to make him regret his decision. When I hear himimploring me to marry him, I shall regain a little of my self-respect! Andas for marriage, I shall have nothing to do with the horrid affair! Oh,dear, no! I shall go away free and be a happy adventuress. I have read the_Trois Mousquetaires_ and _Vingt Ans Apres_--mademoiselle had them--and Iremember milady had only three days to get round her jailer, starting withhis hating her; whereas Mr. Carruthers does not hate me, so that countsagainst my only having one evening. I shall do my best!

  _Thursday night._

  I was down in the library, innocently reading a book, when Mr. Carrutherscame in. He looked even better in evening dress, but he appearedill-tempered, and no doubt found the situation unpleasant.

  "Is not this a beautiful house?" I said, in a velvet voice, to break theawkward silence, and show him I did not share his unease. "You had notseen it before, for ages, had you?"

  "Not since I was a boy," he answered, trying to be polite. "My auntquarrelled with my father--she was the direct heiress of all this--andmarried her cousin, my father's younger brother--but you know the familyhistory, of course----"

  "Yes."

  "They hated each other, she and my father."

  "Mrs. Carruthers hated all her relations," I said, demurely.

  "Myself among them?"

  "Yes," I said, slowly, and bent forward so that the lamplight should fallupon my hair. "She said you were too much like herself in character foryou ever to be friends."

  "Is that a compliment?" he asked, and there was a twinkle in his eye.

  "We must speak no ill of the dead," I said, evasively.

  He looked slightly annoyed--as much as these diplomats ever let themselveslook anything.

  "You are right," he said. "Let her rest in peace."

  There was silence for a moment.

  "What are you going to do with your life now?" he asked, presently. It wasa bald question.

  "I shall become an adventuress," I answered, deliberately.

  "A _what_?" he exclaimed, his black eyebrows contracting.

  "An adventuress. Is not that what it is called? A person who sees life,and has to do the best she can for herself."

  He laughed. "You strange little lady!" he said, his irritation with memelting. And when he laughs you can see how even his teeth are; but thetwo side ones are sharp and pointed, like a wolf's.

  "Perhaps, after all, you had better have married me!"

  "No, that would clip my wings," I said, frankly, looking at him straightin the face.

  "Mr. Barton tells me you propose leaving here on Saturday. I beg you willnot do so. Please consider it your home for so long as you wish--untilyou can make some arrangements for yourself. You look so very young to begoing about the world alone!"

  He bent down and gazed at me closer--there was an odd tone in his voice.

  "I am twenty, and I have been often snubbed," I said, calmly. "Thatprepares one for a good deal. I shall enjoy doing what I please."

  "And what are you going to please?"

  "I shall go to Claridge's until I can look about me."

  He moved uneasily.

  "But have you no relations--no one who will take care of you?"

  "I believe none. My mother was nobody particular, you know--a Miss Tonkinsby name."

  "But your father?" He sat down now on the sofa beside me; there was apuzzled, amused look in his face; perhaps I was amazing him.

  "Papa? Oh, papa was the last of his family. They were decent people, butthere are no more of them."

  He pushed one of the cushions aside.

  "It is an impossible position for a girl--completely alone. I cannot allowit. I feel responsible for you. After all, it would do very well if youmarried me. I am not particularly domestic by nature, and should be verylittle at home, so you could live here and have a certain position, and Iwould come back now and then and see you were getting on all right."

  One could not say if he was mocking or no.

  "It is too good of you," I said, without any irony. "But I like freedom,and when you were at home it might be such a bore----"

  He leaned back and laughed merrily.

  "You are candid, at any rate!" he said.

  Mr. Barton came into the room at that moment, full of apologies at beinglate. Immediately after, with the usual ceremony, the butler entered andpompously announced, "Dinner is served, sir." How quickly they recognizethe new master!

  Mr. Carruthers gave me his arm, and we walked slowly down thepicture-gallery to the banqueting-hall, and there sat down at the small,round table in the middle, that always looks like an island in a lake.

  I talked nicely at dinner. I was dignified and grave, and quite frank. Mr.Carruthers was not bored. The chef had outdone himself, hoping to be kepton. I never felt so excited in my life.

  I was apparently asleep under a big lamp, after dinner, in the library, abook of silly poetry in my lap, when
the door opened and he--Mr.Carruthers--came in alone, and walked up the room. I did not open myeyes. He looked for just a minute--how accurate I am! Then he said, "Youare very pretty when asleep!"

  His voice was not caressing or complimentary--merely as if the fact hadforced this utterance.

  I allowed myself to wake without a start.

  "Was the '47 port as good as you hoped?" I asked, sympathetically.

  He sat down. I had arranged my chair so that there was none other in itsimmediate neighborhood. Thus he was some way off, and could realize mywhole silhouette.

  "The '47 port? Oh yes; but I am not going to talk of port. I want you totell me a lot more about yourself, and your plans----"

  "I have no plans--except to see the world."

  He picked up a book and put it down again; he was not perfectly calm.

  "I don't think I shall let you. I am more than ever convinced you ought tohave some one to take care of you--you are not of the type that makes italtogether safe to roam about alone."

  "Oh! as for my type," I said, languidly, "I know all about that. Mrs.Carruthers said no one with this combination of color could be good, so Iam not going to try. It will be quite simple."

  He rose quickly from his chair and stood in front of the great log fire,such a comical expression on his face.

  "You are the quaintest child I have ever met," he said.

  "I am not a child, and I mean to know everything I can."

  He went over towards the sofa again and arranged the cushions--great,splendid, fat pillows of old Italian brocade, stiff with gold and silver.

  "Come!" he pleaded. "Sit here beside me, and let us talk; you are milesaway there, and I want to--make you see reason."

  I rose at once and came slowly to where he pointed. I settled myselfdeliberately. There was one cushion of purple and silver right under thelight, and there I rested my head.

  "Now talk!" I said, and half closed my eyes.

  Oh, I was enjoying myself! The first time I have ever been alone with areal man! They--the old ambassadors and politicians and generals--usedalways to tell me I should grow into an attractive woman--now I meant totry what I could do.

  Mr. Carruthers remained silent, but he sat down beside me, and looked andlooked right into my eyes.

  "Now talk, then," I said again.

  "Do you know, you are a very disturbing person," he said, at last, by wayof a beginning.

  "What is that?" I asked.

  "It is a woman who confuses one's thoughts when one looks at her. I do notnow seem to have anything to say, or too much----"

  "You called me a child."

  "I should have called you an enigma."

  I assured him I was not the least complex, and that I only wantedeverything simple, and to be left in peace, without having to get marriedor worry to obey people.

  We had a nice talk.

  "You won't leave here on Saturday," he said, presently, apropos ofnothing. "I do not think I shall go myself to-morrow. I want you to showme all over the gardens, and your favorite haunts."

  "To-morrow I shall be busy packing," I said, gravely, "and I do not thinkI want to show you the gardens; there are some corners I rather loved; Ibelieve it will hurt a little to say good-bye."

  Just then Mr. Barton came into the room, fussy and ill at ease. Mr.Carruthers's face hardened again, and I rose to say good-night.

  As he opened the door for me--"Promise you will come down to give me mycoffee in the morning," he said.

  "Qui vivra verra," I answered, and sauntered out into the hall. Hefollowed me, and watched as I went up the staircase.

  "Good-night!" I called, softly, as I got to the top, and laughed alittle--I don't know why.

  He bounded up the stairs, three steps at a time, and before I could turnthe handle of my door he stood beside me.

  "I do not know what there is about you," he said, "but you drive me mad. Ishall insist upon carrying out my aunt's wish, after all! I shall marryyou, and never let you out of my sight--do you hear?"

  Oh, such a strange sense of exaltation crept over me--it is with me still!Of course, he probably will not mean all that to-morrow, but to have madesuch a stiff block of stone rush up-stairs and say this much now isperfectly delightful!

  I looked at him up from under my eyelashes. "No, you will not marry me," Isaid, calmly, "or do anything else I don't like; and now, really,good-night," and I slipped into my room and closed the door. I could hearhe did not stir for some seconds. Then he went off down the stairs again,and I am alone with my thoughts!

  My thoughts! I wonder what they mean! What did I do that had this effectupon him? I intended to do something, and I did it, but I am not quitesure what it was. However, that is of no consequence. Sufficient for me toknow that my self-respect is restored and I can now go out and see theworld with a clear conscience.

  _He_ has asked me to marry him--and _I_ have said I won't!