"But to marry a--a cowboy!"

"He may make the best of husbands. t.i.tles are to be bought. I think I could arrange that. No, on the whole I think it is a perfectly happy arrangement for us--and for him. As Angela's husband he will have access to certain houses and clubs that otherwise would be closed to him."

Lady Featherstone lapsed into gloomy silence.

"Claude was coming back to-night, too," said Featherstone. "I don't like the idea of that boy spending nights in Town. He's getting blase, and at times very out of hand. What business could he have in Town----?"

Voices drifted in through the open window. A few minutes later Jim came into the library. Lady Featherstone immediately departed.

"I'd like a word with you, Lord Featherstone."

"Certainly. Take a seat."

Jim sat heavily in the armchair which Featherstone offered.

"To come to the point right now--I'm in love with Angela, and we want to get hitched up--er--married."

Featherstone looked surprised.

"I guess it's a bit of a blow. But you needn't fly off the handle. I love her all right, and I ain't 'xactly penniless."

Featherstone stroked his chin.

"There are certain conditions to my approval. You will realize that Angela occupies a prominent position in the social world, and I should naturally like to be a.s.sured that you are in a position to provide for her in a way commensurate with her needs. There would be, of course, some marriage settlement. But I do not wish to deal with that side. My lawyer, Mr.

Ayscough, is a very old family friend. He has Angela's interest at heart no less than I. His a.s.surance on the--er--financial side would be sufficient guarantee. In such circ.u.mstances I should see no reason to withhold my consent."

"Thanks. Put it there!" said Jim. "Now, where does he hang out?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Where does he live?"

"Oh, Ayscough? Lincoln's Inn Fields."

"Good. I'm off. I'll be along there first thing in the morning and get that settlement fixed up. I ain't a man that wastes time."

The meeting between Ayscough and Jim was very brief. Ayscough explained the position in choice language, and hit up for 50,000 marriage settlement. Jim, who didn't quite see why he couldn't be trusted to look after his own wife, agreed without demur and went out like a whirlwind.

"Gee, it's all over bar shouting," he muttered. "Jim, you husky, you're sure a lucky feller!"

CHAPTER VI

THE GREAT AWAKENING

The marriage of Colorado Jim with the Honorable Angela created no great stir, for the simple reason that it took place in a registry office and received but two lines' notice in the "social" column of the press.

Jim was surprised that the family should wish to keep it so quiet, but as he himself much preferred that method of getting "hitched up" he made no complaint. He drove away with his beautiful bride, feeling that the greatest step in his life had been taken--which was certainly the case.

Where that step was to lead him he was fortunately unable to foresee.

The att.i.tude of Claude puzzled him. Since that day in Devonshire, when Claude had endeavored to intervene, the latter had spoken scarcely a dozen words to him. He shook hands with Jim at the station and with Angela, but his congratulations sounded weak and insincere.

Jim speedily forgot him in the thrill of the moment. Nice was their destination--Nice in all her October glory. He was actually on honeymoon with the object of his dreams and ambitions!

This chapter in Jim's life need scarcely be dwelled upon in any detail. It was so amazing, so unexpectedly baffling, that it sent him clean off his pivot of balance. All that marvelous happiness in his heart was shattered little by little. The first night at the hotel at Nice left him pondering.

It wasn't due to the fact that Angela occupied a separate room, but that he heard her _turn the key in the lock_! He sat up half the night "browsing" on that singular occurrence. The second night, and every night after, the same thing happened. Nothing else was needed to send him into fits of inward rage. Not for all the wealth of the Indies would he have touched the handle of that door! Verily he was learning. Each day drove home the lesson, until he writhed under the lash of it. He had married an iceberg.

He found himself very much alone. In Nice Angela met scores of familiar faces. She spent most of her time with these friends, leaving Jim to the terrible naked truth--to wrestle with it as best he might. He had kissed her at Little Badholme, had apparently thawed for ever the chilly heart of her. But here it was again--the frigid exterior that no kisses could melt.

What had happened to her? Was it that she had never cared at all--that her acceptance of his marriage offer was dictated by ulterior motives?

Before it was time for them to return to England the last sc.r.a.p of illusion was knocked out of him. More miserable than ever he had been in his life, he sought for some solution. It was so obvious she didn't care for him. He saw that, in the company of her "high-browed" friends, she despised him. He found himself sitting down under this contempt--meekly accepting the role of enslaved husband, hand-servant to a beautiful and presumably soulless woman.

On the night before they left she came back to the hotel very late, to find him sitting in a brown study. He watched her, furtively, discarding the expensive cloak, and taking off the heavy pearl necklace he had been fool enough to buy. He stood up and stared for a moment, in silence, out over the moonlit sea. When he turned she was going to her room.

"Angela!"

She stopped, not liking the imperative note in his voice.

"What's wrong?"

"Wrong?"

"Yep--with us?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"I wasn't aware that anything was wrong."

He leaned across the table.

"Angela. Why did you marry me?"

"Because you asked me."

"No other reason, eh?"

"Isn't that reason enough?"

His mouth set in a grim smile.

"I thought that when wimmen married men there was usually another reason.

To take a man and not to tell him the truth ain't 'xactly on the level."

"Don't begin recriminations," she retorted.