The Beggar Man. Ruby M. Ayres
wonderful dream, but now … the suddenness of it all made her feel as if someone had asked her to jump off the edge of the world.
"If you don't mind," the Beggar Man said suddenly, "I must leave you now. I've a lot to do this evening. You must let me send you home in a taxi."
"Oh, no, no."
He looked surprised. "Why not? You don't want to walk all that way."
"I'd rather go on a bus if you don't mind."
She felt that she must cling to her old life with might and main for this last evening. After to-morrow—well, she could not help what happened after to-morrow.
The Beggar Man's face softened. She looked so young and appealing, and perhaps he understood better than she imagined what she was feeling.
"Very well," he said gently. "I'll say good-night, then. Half-past eight at the end of your road, and … thank you!"
Faith looked up quickly.
"Oh, it's for me to say thank you," she said. "You've been so good to me. Nobody could have been so kind."
The Beggar Man flushed.
"I hope you'll always be able to say that," he said awkwardly as he raised his hat and turned away.
Faith went home on top of an omnibus. For the first time that evening she felt that she could breathe freely. The sense of unreality was leaving her, and she began to see things more in their true perspective.
She was taking a rash step! Young and ignorant of the world as she was, she knew this, and realized that all she knew of the man whom she was to marry was the little he had chosen to tell her. He might be anything—anyone!
That he had money she was sure, and Peg had often said that with money one could do anything! Money was the golden key to the world; and Faith knew that it would be a golden key, not only for herself, but for her mother and the twins.
They could have everything they wanted! Wonderful visions began to unfurl before her eyes.
It was as if she wilfully held rose-tinted glasses before her eyes excluding the vague shadows that haunted her. She would not look at the dark side of what might be. She would keep her face turned towards the sun.
But when she got home her spirits fell once more. She began to remember that this was the last night of her old life. That after to-morrow she would be quite, quite different. She would be the Beggar Man's wife! She would be Mrs. Nicholas Forrester!
She could hardly eat any supper for the choking lump that would rise in her throat. She knew that from time to time her mother glanced at her with anxious eyes.
"Is anything the matter, Faith?" she asked at last, just as she had asked last night, and Faith answered desperately that her head ached and that she would like to go to bed.
When she was in bed the tears came. This was the first time she had ever had a secret from her mother, and even the thought of the wonderfully happy surprise it would be could not comfort her. She felt like a lost child as she hid her face in the pillow and sobbed.
CHAPTER IV
Faith was married at nine o'clock the following morning. It was raining hard, and as she stood beside the Beggar Man in the dreary registry office she watched the raindrops chasing one another down the window.
The old dream feeling was upon her again, and she could not believe that all this was really happening. The monotonous voice of the man who was marrying them sounded a long way off. The Beggar Man's hand in hers was the only real thing in life, and she clung to it with the desperate feeling that without it she would collapse and fall off the edge of the world.
She wore the same shabby costume in which she had gone each day to the factory, and she had a queer sort of feeling that this was not a bit as she had always imagined a wedding to be. There was no satin frock, no coloured confetti, no wonderful music.
What would Peg think? In her heart Faith was a little afraid of what her friend would think. The clasp of the Beggar Man's hand suddenly relaxed about her own, and she looked up with scared eyes. He was smiling.
"It's all over," he said. "We're married. You've just got to sign your name."
Faith said "Oh!" She blinked her eyes as if she had been asleep.
She had always thought that directly you were married, you felt quite different, but no wonderful metamorphosis had come about so far. She felt just herself, save for a dull sort of nervous headache.
She signed her name on the line pointed out to her and stood aimlessly holding the pen. The man who had married them was filling in a form and the Beggar Man was watching him.
Faith glanced down at her left hand. A brand new gold ring shone on her third finger. She spread her hand out and stared at it.
The registrar folded up his papers and shook hands with the Beggar Man. Then he shook hands with Faith and wished her luck.
Faith said "Thank you." She thought he was very kind. She liked the way he smiled.
Then the Beggar Man spoke to her.
"Well—are you ready?"
Faith started. She had been dreaming again.
"Quite ready," she said, and followed him outside to where a taxi was waiting. Presently they were driving away together.
The Beggar Man sat beside her. After a moment he began to speak rapidly.
"We're going to have some lunch at my flat. I've got a flat in the West End. I shall give it up now we're married, of course, but I thought it would do for the present—just till I come back and we can look round."
"Isn't it rather early for lunch?" Faith asked, helplessly.
"Is it? Well, we can have a glass of wine and some sandwiches. I've got such a little time. My train goes at twelve. … " He looked down at her with sudden fire in his eyes. "I wish I had not got to go!" he said, vehemently.
"Do you?" said Faith nervously. She shrank a little from him. "You said you would soon be back," she added.
"I know—but on one's wedding day. … " He broke off abruptly as the cab stopped. "Here we are."
He held his hand to her, but she avoided it. Fear was upon her once again.
The flat was on the first floor, and the Beggar Man opened the door with his latch-key.
"I bought some flowers and things," he said helplessly. "But it doesn't look very grand. What is it?"
Faith had given a little cry.
"Oh, but it's lovely! lovely!" She had forgotten her shyness. She was running round the room like a delighted child looking at the pictures and ornaments with which it was filled.
He made her drink a glass of wine and eat some cake, but all the time her eyes were wandering round the room, lost in admiration.
He watched her with a chagrined smile. Surely this was the oddest of wedding days, he thought. A shabby little bride, who had no eyes for her groom, but who sat and stared with rapt attention at such things as chairs and pictures and ornaments.
And the time was flying—flying. He looked impatiently at the clock, and then at the girl who was now his wife. And suddenly it was he who felt shy and tongue-tied.
She met his eyes and flushed, without knowing why, and the Beggar Man rose to his feet and went round the table to where she sat.
"You're my wife now, you know," he said.
"Yes." She drew back a little, her eyes dilating, and he broke out again abruptly: "I wish I'd arranged to take you with me.