A Bachelor Husband. Ruby M. Ayres
some way from the hotel."
She walked reluctantly beside him.
Suddenly she asked a question.
"If you are Chris' best friend, why weren't you his best man at—at our wedding?"
She looked up at him as she spoke, and saw the quick frown that crossed his face.
"Am I to answer that question?" he asked.
"Of course. I should like to know."
"Very well, then, as you insist—Chris asked me to be best man, or whatever you call it, and I refused."
"Why?" She was really interested now.
"Why? Well, because—before I saw you—I disliked the idea of Chris being married. Marriage spoils most friendships between men."
Marie looked out over the sea with wistful eyes.
"I don't think marriage will spoil Chris' friendships," she said, with faint bitterness.
"No," he agreed, "I am afraid it will not."
There was a queer, hard note of disapproval in his voice, and Marie looked at him in bewilderment.
"I don't think I understand you," she said angrily. "I don't think I understand a bit what you mean."
34 "Perhaps I don't understand myself." he answered. "Let's leave it at that, shall we, and forget all the nonsense I've been talking?"
They went up to the hotel silently. There were several people about now and a smartly-dressed woman with red hair, to whom Feathers bowed formally, stared at Marie rather insolently as they passed.
"Is that one of Chris' friends?" Marie asked with an effort when they were out of hearing.
"Chris knows her," was the reply. "She is a Mrs. Heriot."
"She is very smart," Marie said wistfully.
"Smart!" Feathers stopped and looked back at the woman deliberately. "Do you call her smart?" he asked, mildly amazed. "I think she looks a sight; but, then, so do most of the women in this hotel. I suppose it's their way of attracting attention—all others failing."
Marie smiled faintly.
"You don't like women," she said.
He shook his shaggy head.
"I do not," he agreed.
"And yet—just now, you told me I should be wise to make a friend of you."
"I did—and I still mean it, and hope some day that you will do so … Here is Chris."
Chris came towards them with a batch of newspapers in his hands. He looked at his wife with faint embarrassment.
"Early birds!" he said, and then, as Feathers moved away. "Is your head better, Marie Celeste?"
She smiled nervously.
"Oh, yes, it's quite gone! I got up early and had a long walk along the sands, and I met Mr. Dakers and he came back with me."
"Call him 'Feathers,'" said Chris. "Everybody does."
"Do they? But I hardly know him!"
"You soon will." He looked at her doubtfully. "Do you think you will manage to have a good time here, Marie?"
35 "Oh, yes, with … " "With you," she had been going to add, but stopped. She felt instinctively that she would not be allowed to have much of her husband's undivided attention. There were so many people in the hotel who were friends of his.
"There is a Mrs. Heriot here who knows you," she said, more for something to say than for any other reason, and she was surprised at the way Chris suddenly flushed.
"Yes, I know," he said. "I saw her last night."
They went in to breakfast together. Marie thought she had never seen such a big room. She kept close to Chris, conscious that all eyes were upon her.
Feathers and young Atkins occupied a table a little way from theirs, and Atkins got up as soon as he saw Marie, and came over to ask how she was.
"I'm quite well, thank you, and isn't it a lovely morning?"
"Ripping! I say, can you swim?"
"Yes."
Chris looked up. "Can you?" he asked in surprise, then laughed and colored, realizing how very little he really knew about Marie and her accomplishments.
"I wish people wouldn't stare at me so," she said to him nervously, when breakfast was over and they were out in the lounge once more. "Is there anything funny-looking about me, Chris?"
He cast a casual eye over her daintiness.
"You look all right," he said, without much enthusiasm. "Probably they know we're newly married." he added.
Marie said nothing, but she turned away from him and looked out over the sea, a little wintry smile on her quivering lips.
He was quite indifferent to her, she knew! And in her passionate pain and bitterness she almost wished for his hatred. Anything, anything rather than this terrible feeling that she was nothing at all in his life!
Young Atkins joined them almost immediately and attached himself to Marie.
36 "We're going to bathe presently." he said. "You'll come, too, won't you?"
Marie looked at her husband, but he was talking to someone else, and she answered hurriedly.
"Oh, yes, I'll come, of course! What time are you going?"
"We generally go about half-past ten—before the crowd gets down. We'll take a boat out if you're sure you can swim."
She laughed. "Why, of course, I can!"
"Let your breakfast settle first, my boy," said Feathers, looking up from his newspaper. "There's no hurry, is there?"
"Oh, shut up!" said young Atkins lightly. "You're always such an old croaker."
At half-past ten he sought Marie out again.
"Are you coming?" he asked. "It'll be topping this Morning."
"I know—Chris has gone to phone to someone. I wonder if I ought to wait … "
"Of course not! He'll be all right! Leave a message."
"Very well." It would be a good opportunity to show him that she did not depend on him for her amusement she thought desperately. She went off through the sunshine with young Atkins chattering nineteen to the dozen beside her.
It was a perfect morning! Marie stood for a moment on the steps of the bathing machine in her blue and white costume, and looked up at the sun! It might be such a perfect world if only things were a little different! She wondered if there was always something in life to prevent people being too happy.
Young Atkins called to her from a diving stage a little distance out, and she dived into the water and swam out to him.
"Ripping, isn't it!" he said as she clambered up to sit beside him in the sun "Look here! I'll race you round that buoy and back. Will you?"
"Yes—I'll bet you a box of cigarettes I win."
37 "Right! Bet you a box of chocolates you don't. Now then—one, two, three! Go!" They dived from the staging together, laughing and full of excitement. They were both good swimmers, and for a little they kept abreast, then slowly but surely young Atkins forged ahead.
Marie felt rather tired. They were swimming towards the sun and its brightness blinded her. Her headache had returned, too; she had almost forgotten it until a little stabbing pain in her temples made her close her eyes.
She thought it must be because she had not slept all night! That would account for her feeling of weakness and lassitude. She ought not to have come out so far—sudden