The Reason Why | Page 3

known me to make such jokes, Tancred?" Mr. Markrute asked calmly.
"No, I haven't, and that is the odd part of it. What the devil do you mean, really, Francis?"
"I mean what I say: I will pay every debt you have, and give you a charming wife with a fortune."
Lord Tancred got up and walked about the room. He was a perfectly natural creature, stolid and calm as those of his race, disciplined and deliberate in moments of danger or difficulty; yet he never lived under self-conscious control as the financier did. He was rather moved now, and so he walked about. He was with a friend, and it was not the moment to have to bother over disguising his feelings.
"Oh, it is nonsense, Francis; I could not do it. I have knocked about the world as you know, and, since you are aware of everything about me, you say, you have probably heard some of my likings--and dislikings. I never go after a woman unless she attracts me, and I would never marry one of them unless I were madly in love with her, whether she had money or no; though I believe I would hate a wife with money, in any case--she'd be saying like the American lady of poor Darrowood: 'It's my motor and you can't have it to-day.'"
"You would marry a woman then--if you were in love, in spite of everything?" Francis Markrute asked.
"Probably, but I have never been really in love; have you? It is all story-book stuff--that almighty passion, I expect. They none of them matter very much after a while, do they, old boy?"
"I have understood it is possible for a woman to matter," the financier said and he drew in his lips.
"Well, up to now I have not," Lord Tancred announced, "and may the day be far off when one does. I feel pretty safe!"
A strange, mysterious smile crept over Mr. Markrute's face.
"By the way, also, how do you know the lady would be willing to marry me, Francis? You spoke as if I only had to be consulted in the affair."
"So you have. I can answer for my niece; she will do as I wish, and, as I said before, you are rather a perfect picture of an English nobleman, Tancred. You have not found women recalcitrant, as a rule--no?"
Lord Tancred was not inordinately vain, though a man, and he had a sense of humor--so he laughed.
"'Pon my word it is amusing, your turning into a sort of matrimonial agent. Can't you see the fun of the thing yourself?"
"It seems quite natural to me. You have every social advantage to offer a woman, and a presentable person; and my niece has youth, and some looks, and a large fortune. But we will say no more about it. I shall be glad to be of any service I can to you, anyway, in regard to your Canadian scheme. Come and dine to-night; I happen to have asked a couple of railway magnates with interests out there, and you can get some information from them."
And so it was arranged, and Lord Tancred got up to go; but just at the door he paused and said with a laugh:
"And shall I see the niece?"
The financier had his back turned, and so he permitted the flicker of a smile to come over his mouth as he answered:
"It might be; but we have dismissed the subject of the niece."
And so they parted.
At the sound of the closing of the door Mr. Markrute pressed the button of a wonderful trifle of Russian enamel and emeralds, which lay on his writing table, and a quiet servant entered the room.
"Tell the Countess Shulski I wish to speak to her here immediately, please," he said. "Ask her to descend at once."
But he had to walk up and down several times, and was growing impatient, before the door opened and a woman came slowly into the room.
CHAPTER II
The financier paused in his restless pacing as he heard the door open and stood perfectly still, with his back to the light. The woman advanced and also stood still, and they looked at one another with no great love in their eyes, though she who had entered was well worth looking at, from a number of points of view. Firstly, she had that arresting, compelling personality which does not depend upon features, or coloring, or form, or beauty. A subtle force of character--a radiating magnetism--breathed from her whole being. When Zara Shulski came into any assemblage of people conversation stopped and speculation began.
She was rather tall and very slender; and yet every voluptuous curve of her lithe body refuted the idea of thinness. Her head was small and her face small, and short, and oval, with no wonderfully chiseled features, only the skin was