Free Away Went Love by Mary Burchell Page B

down.”
    “Very well.” He picked up the cheque and handed it to her. “There’s the five hundred pounds. And don’t bother to thank me,” he added ironically.
    Hope got up, and stood there for a moment, twisting the cheque in her hands.
    “I—I do thank you, just the same,” she said, staring at the slip of paper but speaking with great earnestness. “It’s amazingly generous of you to let us have such a large sum of money. You say that if—if Richard is a worthwhile person, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t help him, but I know there are very few people who would help someone else to that extent.”
    “Oh, that’s not generosity,” he said rather roughly, as he too got up. “Call it a bet on long odds. Now go along. I have some work to do.”
    “But there’s just one more point—”
    “Yes?”
    “How—how long have I got to prove my own view?”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “Well, we shall both probably be so excited about having got the money and making the arrangements to—to put it back and so on. There may not be a chance of fixing up our wedding, too, at the same time.”
    “You’d be wise to make your suggestion of an early marriage follow as closely as possible on the presentation of the cheque,” he told her dryly.
    “But I can’t say, ‘Here’s the five hundred pounds, now when are we going to be married?’—just like that. It’s—it’s indecent.”
    “Very well.” He grinned. “I’ll study your susceptibilities to that extent. You can have a week to bring him to the point. Come back in a week’s time and tell me whether you’re going to marry him—or me.”
    “I will,” she said rather breathlessly. And then, without even pausing to say good night, she hurried out of the room.
    She was trembling as she put on her hat and coat and left the building, but whether it was with happiness or nervous reaction she found it hard to say.
    It was always very difficult to realize that a crisis had passed, of course. If only she could take in the fact fully, she was free to draw breath and rejoice that her troubles were over. The slender chance, on which she had not dared to count much, had yielded the most extraordinarily full result. She actually had in her handbag the cheque which was to save Richard.
    By the time she reached home, she felt worn out with excitement and the anxious day through which she had gone, but her first impulse was to telephone Richard.
    Here she received a disappointing check. He was not yet home, for the telephone bell rang unavailingly.
    Well, she would telephone later—or he would quite possibly call in of his own accord. After all, he knew that she had hoped to make some sort of attempt today, and would naturally be anxious to know with what result.
    Meanwhile, she prepared to relax in the delicious consciousness that she need not worry any longer.
    What a curious man Errol Tamberly was, she thought, gazing absently into the fire. Whoever heard of anyone making a proposal of marriage in such an extraordinary form?
    Well, it wasn’t even a proposal. Just a sort of take-it-or-leave-it affair in which marrying him would seem like a penalty for having guessed wrong.
    ‘But why did he ever suggest it?’ Hope asked herself puzzledly. ‘Am I to suppose he’s in love with me? But that’s too ridiculous. I can’t imagine Errol Tamberly in love with anyone. And certainly not with me!’
    She was not, of course, so naive as not to know that people married for all sorts of reasons besides being in love. But which of those reasons could possibly apply to her?
    No one knew better than he that she had no money—and anyway, he was under no necessity to marry a rich wife. She had what were known as “good connections,” of course, for her father had been a popular and well-known man. But Errol Tamberly had never shown signs of being a social climber, and, if he were, he could surely have found a better means of climbing than herself!
    Some men, of