Chapter 6

Severance sauntered up and down the �Forty Steps,� the repose of his bearing belying the agitation within.

�Why on earth doesn�t she come?� he thought uneasily. �Can she be ill again? She is ten minutes behind time now. What did it mean�all those fellows there last night? She looked like an amused spectator at a play, and Miss Decker was nervous, actually nervous. Damn it! Here they all come. What do they mean by keeping under my heels like this?�

Dedham, Trent, and Boswell strolled up from various directions, and, although each had expectation in his eye, none looked overjoyed to see the other men. There were four cold nods, a dead pause, and then Teddy gave a little cough.

�Beautiful after�I mean morning.�

�It is indeed,� said Severance. �I wonder you are not taking your salt-water constitutional.�

�I always take a walk in the morning;� and Teddy glanced nervously over his shoulder.

Boswell and Trent, each with a little missive burning his pocket, turned red, fidgeted, glared at the ocean, and made no remark. Severance darted a glance at each of the three in succession, and then looked at the ground with a contemplative stare. At this moment Mrs. Pendleton appeared.

Three of the men advanced to meet her with an awkward attempt at surprise, but she waved them back.

�I have something to say to you,� she said.

The cold languor of her face had given place to an expression of haughty triumph. A gleam of conscious power lay deep in her scornful eyes. The final act in the drama had come, and the d�nouement should be worthy of her talents. She looked like a judge who had smiled encouragement to a guilty defendant only to confer the sentence of capital punishment at last.

�Gentlemen,� she said, and even her voice was judicatorial, �I have asked you all to meet me here this morning��(three angry starts, but she went on unmoved)��because I came to the conclusion last night that it is quite time this farce should end. I am somewhat bored myself, and I have no doubt you are so, as well. Your joke was a clever one, worthy of the idle days of autumn. When I received your four proposals by the same mail, I appreciated your wit�I will say more, your genius�and felt glad to do anything I could to contribute to your amusement, especially as all the world is away and I knew how dull you must be. So I accepted each of you, as you know, had four charming interviews and one memorable one of a more composite nature; and now that we have all agreed that the spicy and original little drama has run its length I take pleasure in restoring your rings.�

She took from her handkerchief a beautiful little casket of blue onyx, upon which reposed the Pendleton crest in diamonds, touched a spring, and revealed four rings sparkling about as many velvet cushions. The four men stood speechless; not one dared protest his sincerity and see ridicule in the eyes of his neighbour.

Mrs. Pendleton dropped her judicial air, and taking the ruby between her fingers, smiled like a teacher bestowing a prize.

�Mr. Boswell,� she said, �I believe this belongs to you;� and she handed the ring to the stupefied author. He put it in his pocket with never a word.

She raised the emerald. �Mr. Trent, this is yours?�or is it the sapphire?�

�The emerald,� snorted Trent.

She dropped it in his nerveless palm with a gracious bend of the head, and turned to Teddy.

�You gave me a solitaire, I remember,� she said sweetly. �A most appropriate gift, for it is the ideal life.�

Teddy looked as if about to burst into tears, gave her one beseeching glance, then took his ring and strode feebly over the cliffs. Trent and Boswell hesitated a moment, then hurried after.

Jessica held the casket to Severance, with a little outward sweep of her wrist. He took it and, folding his arms, looked at her steadily. A tide of angry colour rose to her hair, then she turned her back upon him and looking out over the water tapped her foot on the rocks.

�Why do you not go?� she asked. �I hate you more than any one on earth.�

�No. You love me.�

�I hate you! You are a brute! The coolest, the rudest, the most exasperating man on�on earth.�

�That is the reason you love me. My dear Mrs. Pendleton,� he continued, taking the ring from the casket and laying the latter on a rock, �a woman of brains and headstrong will�but unegoistic�likes a brutal and masterful man. An egoistical woman, whether she be fool or brilliant, likes a slave. The reason is that egoism, not being a feminine quality primarily, but borrowed from man, places its fair possessor outside of her sex�s limitations and supplies her with the satisfying simulacrum of those stronger characteristics which she would otherwise look for in man. You are not an egoist.�

He took her hand and removed her glove in spite of her resistance.

�Don�t struggle. You would only look ridiculous if any one should pass. Besides, it is useless. I am so much stronger. I do not know or care what really possessed you to indulge in such a freak as to engage yourself to four men at once,� he continued, slipping the ring on her finger. �You had your joke, and I hope you enjoyed it. The d�nouement was highly dramatic. As I said, I desire no explanation, for I am never concerned with anything but results. And now�you are going to marry me.�

�I am not!� sobbed Jessica.

�You are.� He glanced about. No one was in sight. He put his arm about her shoulders, forcing her own to her sides, then bent back her head and kissed her on the mouth.

�Checkmate!� he said.

THE END.