To Journey Together (26 page)

"Nothing about him," Elinor said, smiling more certainly this time.

"You mean that he still philanders charmingly but never comes to the point?"

"No. I mean that, having become financially secure after the death of Leni Mardenburg, he followed me up with—what I believe are called honourable intentions."

"You—" Kenneth actually paled a little. "You mean that he asked you to marry him

"I suppose it's mean to tell another man so, but—" she put up her hand and touched his cheek lovingly—"you deserve a little reassurance, my poor darling. He did, which was very honourable and nice of him, but I refused, because I loved you and only liked him."

He held her close at that, as though he believed—though quite incorrectly—that he had almost lost her.

"And there are no regrets whatever for his charm and his graceful way of paying court?" Kenneth asked, kissing her anxiously.

"None whatsoever. I enjoyed being petted and flattered," Elinor admitted with a smile. "But I'd rather be kissed by you, and have you dry my tears, even if you did make a very brisk and workmanlike job of it."

They both laughed then, and for quite a long while there seemed nothing more urgent to do than to exchange reminiscences of when they had first begun to love each other. Then a clock struck twelve somewhere and Kenneth said, "Good heavens! Is that the time? I suppose we ought to break this up. We're engaged, aren't we?"

"I had thought so," Elinor admitted demurely. "When will you marry me?"

She hesitated.

"I suppose it depends when we go home. I don't want to make your uncle and aunt feel I'm impatient, after the wonderful time they have given me. And then—"

"They won't," Kenneth assured her. "As a matter of fact, it was largely because of you that they decided to stay on here, instead of coming back to London almost straight after me. I think my uncle would rather like to be home now. He is feeling perfectly well again and is hankering after his own solution of some office problems. But they both thought it was a shame to rush you off once more, particularly as they thought perhaps they had done just that in Vienna. My aunt nearly drove me mad—in the nicest way possible—by hinting at a romance between you and Rudi. They didn't either of them want, as they thought, to blight that a second time."

"What an extraordinary idea!" exclaimed Elinor, for all the world as though she had never entertained romantic thoughts towards Rudi. "If they would really like to go home quite soon, I should love it—in spite of all the wonderful experiences."

And suddenly, at the thought of walking into the shabby house that was home, and seeing all the dear faces again and telling the family all her adventures, Elinor felt that, though she had enjoyed every moment of her wonderful trip, she would trade it all for the welcome back that must be waiting for her.

"I'll see what can be arranged," Kenneth promised. Then he went with her to the lift, and kissed her good night under the approving eye of the lift attendant. After which she was wafted upwards, and

if she had the vague and delicious feeling that she was indeed being taken heavenward, all those who have suddenly become engaged after great anxiety will understand this feeling.

Not until the next morning did she find how literally Kenneth had meant that he would see what could be arranged. Though she came down early to breakfast, both the Conneltons were earlier still. And, to her mingled delight and embarrassment, not only Lady Connelton but Sir Daniel too kissed her very heartily and told her how happy they were to hear the news.

"And, of course, it
alters all the future arrange
ments, dear," Lady Connelton said. "We really have no one to consult but ourselves, and, for various reasons, we are all beginning to feel the tug home, I think. Kenneth has been 'phoning the airport to see if he can get a seat on today's flight, but it seems doubtful. And so the simplest thing is for us all to take the midday train. We shall be home tomorrow evening."

"I can't believe it!" Elinor was divided between delight and astonishment. "Do you mean that we can really arrange it—just like that?"

"Not much good running a tourist agency if you can't arrange a little matter like that," Sir Daniel declared in high good humour.

And then Kenneth came in, to say that there was no question of his getting a place on the early 'plane and that, therefore, they would all be travelling together.

"A much better arrangement, in the circumstances," stated Lady Connelton, and neither of her menfolk had the temerity to point out that Kenneth's presence in the London office was pressingly needed. Romance had definitely taken precedence over business, in Lady Connelton's view at any rate.

In spite of the rush, and in spite of the necessity of saying goodbye to a city which had won her heart, Elinor could not feel anything but wildly happy over the sudden development. She allowed herself the indulgence of a long and expensive telegram home,

so that the family would at least be prepared for her sudden arrival and the fact that she had become engaged.

"Will your people mind?" Kenneth asked, with an anxiety which was unlike him.

"Mind? Why should they mind? They'll be delighted," Elinor said.

"But they don't know a thing about me. They've never seen me, and may distrust the idea of anything that has happened so suddenly. For that is how it's bound to seem to them."

"Not entirely." Elinor smiled to herself. "I wrote quite a lot about you from time to time, Ken. And, anyway, they will like you on sight. Anyone would."

"You didn't," he reminded her with enjoyment. "You flew at me and rated me like anything."

"There were special circumstances," Elinor stated firmly, at which Kenneth laughed delightedly, and then kissed her, just to show there was no longer any ground of difference between them.

It was a long journey home. But for Elinor every hour was made bright by the fact that Kenneth loved her. Even now she could hardly believe that she was really engaged to him. Only, as they sped through France—regrettably fast, for she would have liked to see more of it—he told her that he would bring her back here on her honeymoon. And somehow that made it all real.

The Conneltons were exceedingly kind, and left them as much as possible on their own, and showed no surprise if the two of them chose to stand for long hours in the corridor talking to each other.

Even on the boat, they retired tactfully to seats in a sheltered part of the deck, leaving Kenneth and Elinor to saunter up and down, watching for the first faint outline of the English coast.

"There it is!" exclaimed Kenneth at last. And although it was still nothing but a smudge on the horizon, Elinor said, "How lovely it looks! I thought when I left it that I must be the luckiest girl in the world. Now that I'm coming back, I know I am."

He laughed, but he put his arm round her at that.

"There'll be many wonderful journeys in the future, I hope, darling, and many happy homecomings. And all of them together."

They were both silent then, in contented contemplation of the radiant future ahead, and Elinor's heart was so full of the happiness of this homecoming that she thought she would retain a little of the glow of it all her life.

Neither of them noticed that the Conneltons observed them and then exchanged a smile of amused satisfaction.

"Extraordinary how it has all worked out," Sir Daniel remarked. "I left the choice of secretary entirely to Prynne—the most unromantic of creatures. And he must needs pick out the one girl who, in her quiet way, swept Ken off his feet from the first. Chance is a strange thing."

"Very," agreed Lady Connelton. "But here and there it needs just a little assistance." And she rubbed the bridge of her nose, with the satisfied air of one who had not disdained to assist chance occasionally.