Forget-Me-Not

She took off her glove and glanced at the wedding ring which she had no
right to wear; this irritated her companion. As he opened the door of the
musty, private parlour of the inn he reflected that many of her actions
since he had eloped with her had irritated him; a bad beginning.

He endeavoured to reassure himself by a full look at her beauty and
elegance. Mary Showler accepted with pleasure this admiration that was
tinged by doubt and reluctance. Still displaying the slim hand with the
gold band that he had given her that morning, she sat composedly at ease,
ignoring her homely surroundings, the dark room with a dusty case of
prize fish, a shelf with pewter tankards, a new engraving of the girlish
Queen in her coronation robes.

Young Morrison decided that Mary Showler was worth the trouble; a beauty,
if ever there was one...a woman of taste, too; he liked her gown of deep
indigo blue glaces silk, so neatly buttoned to the slim figure.

She was aware of his approval and smiled; her toilette had cost her all
she possessed in the world. She had never worn such clothes before,
nothing but the plainest attire was permitted the teachers at Miss Le
Moine's Academy for Young Ladies.

"Well," she said, still smiling, "so far successful, Robert! Can we get
any refreshment here? And when do you expect your sister?"

He did not like that; she should not have forced an explanation when she
ought to have understood the situation without a word. To gain time he
rang the bell and ordered coffee, she, smiling always, considering him
with furtive steadiness the awhile.

They had been travelling together since morning and the tedious intimacy
had not increased her esteem for him; she realised that she would have to
be very careful, very patient. He was pampered, wilful, bad tempered, an
indulged sensualist, and worse than any of this, she feared, with a real
sinking of the heart, that he was stupid.

But he was wealthy and the next-of-kin to a duke; Mary Showler made her
smile soft and engaging as she poured the coffee and offered the cakes.

"Are you not fatigued, Robert? The train was so wearisome! When shall we
proceed?"

"Well, I have to see to a few arrangements." He stared moodily into his
coffee cup. She considered all he did and said with an intense, secret
interest which she did not for a second mistake for the repulsions and
attractions of love (though he had for her, on occasion, a strong
physical appeal) she was anxious to know, to understand and to please him
because he represented to her a unique chance of escaping an intolerable
life and of achieving all she desired.

He was a well-built, rather clumsy young man with thick, closely curling
fair hair and whiskers, blunt features and pale grey eyes. He rose
abruptly, with an uneasy grin, and said: