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Updated: May 23, 2025
As their hands met, he looked up with a queer, mirthless smile. "I hope you are going to be good to her," he said. "I am going to be good to you both," said Lester Cheveril quietly. In the silence that followed his words, the band on the pier became audible on a sudden gust of wind. It was gaily jigging out the tune of "The Girl I Left Behind Me." "What a secluded corner, Miss Harford!
Her letters to him were even briefer, and she never guessed how Cheveril cherished those scanty favours. So through all that summer they kept up the farce. In the autumn Evelyn went to pay a round of visits at various country-houses, and it was while staying from home that a letter from Jim Willowby reached her. He wrote in apparently excellent spirits.
"I am not thinking of myself," she told him, with vehemence. "Of course, it would make everything right for me, so long as Jim knew. But I must think of you, too. I must " "You needn't," Cheveril said gently; "you needn't. I have asked to be allowed to stand by you, to have the great privilege of calling myself your friend in need.
Young Willowby gave a great start and turned crimson. He offered neither apology nor excuse. "I like you for that," Cheveril said, after a moment. "Can you bring yourself to shake hands?" There was unmistakable friendliness in his tone, and Willowby responded to it promptly. He was a sportsman at heart, however he might rail at circumstance.
The prone figure on the shingle rolled over and sat up. "Hullo!" said Cheveril. There was a distinct pause before a voice replied: "Hullo! What's the matter?" "I've dropped my cigarette-case," said Cheveril. "Beastly careless of me!" Again there was a pause. Then the man below him stumbled to his feet. "I've got a match," he said. "I'll see if I can find it."
"That's ridiculous!" she said. "You talk as if you were fifty years older than you are. It may be funny, but it isn't strictly honest." Cheveril laughed. "I know what you mean," he said. "But really I'm not being funny.
"No, don't laugh," she said quickly, almost as if something in his careless speech had pained her. "We must look at the matter from every stand-point before before we take any action. Suppose you really did want to marry some one? Suppose you fell in love again? What then?" "What then?" said Cheveril. And, though he was obligingly serious, she felt that somehow, somewhere, he was tricking her.
"Come!" he said, smiling down at her. "Let us go and announce the good news!" And so she yielded to him, and went. The news of Evelyn Harford's engagement to Lester Cheveril was no great surprise to any one. It leaked out through private sources, it being understood that no public announcement was to be made till the marriage should be imminent.
"Yes," he said, "I like fair play, too." "Then you will tell me the truth?" she said, holding out her hand for her property. "I want to know if if you were really going to ask me to marry you before this happened?" He looked at her with raised eyebrows. Then he took the extended hand. "Of course I was!" he said simply. She drew back a little, but Cheveril showed no discomfiture.
She answered him with her head bent: "I found that I didn't care for him quite in that way." Cheveril did not speak for several seconds. Then, abruptly, he said: "There is another fellow in the business." She made a slight gesture of appeal, and remained silent. He leaned forward slowly at length, and laid his hand upon both of hers. "Evelyn," he said very gently, "will you tell me his name?"
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