It seemed a trifle ridiculous to Carruthers that this lovely, brilliant creature should take her work so seriously and yet he was moved; he would have liked to snatch her in his arms and kiss her, not at that moment as a woman, but as a precocious child whose cleverness suddenly enchants you.
But later he reflected upon what she had told him.
He was of course a very clever man, otherwise he could not have attained the position he held in the Foreign Office, and it would be silly to claim that those two books of his could have made so much stir without some merit; if I have made him look a bit of a fool it is only because I did not happen to like him, and if I have derided his stories it is merely because stories of that sort seem to me rather silly.
He had tact and insight.
He had a conviction that there was but one way to win her.
She was in a groove and happy in it, her plans were definite; but her life at Rhodes was so well-ordered, so complete and satisfying, that for that very reason its hold over her could be combated.
His chance was to arouse in her the restlessness that lies deep in the heart of the English.
So he talked to Betty of England and London, their common friends and the painters, writers, and musicians with whom his literary success had brought him acquaintance.
He talked of the Bohemian parties in Chelsea, and of the opera, of trips to Paris en bande for a fancy-dress ball, or to Berlin to see the new plays.
He recalled to her imagination a life rich and easy, varied, cultured, intelligent, and highly civilized.
He tried to make her feel that she was stagnating in a backwater.
The world was hurrying on, from one new and interesting phase to another, and she was standing still.
They were living in a thrilling age and she was missing it.
Of course he did not tell her this; he left her to infer it.
He was amusing and spirited, he had an excellent memory for a good story, he was whimsical and gay.
I know I have not made Humphrey Carruthers witty any more than I have shown Lady Betty brilliant.
The reader must take my word for it that they were.
Carruthers was generally reckoned an entertaining companion, and that is half the battle; people were willing to find him amusing and they vowed the things he said were marvellous.
Of course his wit was social.
It needed a particular company, who understood his allusions and shared his exclusive sense of humour.
There are a score of journalists in Fleet Street who could knock spots off the most famous of the society wits; it is their business to be witty and brilliance is in their day's work.
There are a few of the society beauties whose photographs appear in the papers who could get a job at three pounds a week in the chorus of a song-and-dance show.
Amateurs must be judged with tolerance.
Carruthers knew that Betty enjoyed his society.
They laughed a great deal together.
The days passed in a flash.
'I shall miss you terribly when you go,' she said in her frank way.
'It's been a treat having you here.
You are a sweet, Humphrey.'
'Have you only just discovered it?'
He patted himself on the back.
His tactics had been right.
It was interesting to see how well his simple plan had worked.
Like a charm.
The vulgar might laugh at the Foreign Office, but there was no doubt it taught you how to deal with difficult people.
Now he had but to choose his opportunity.
He felt that Betty had never been more attached to him.
He would wait till the end of his visit.
Betty was emotional.
She would be sorry that he was going.
Rhodes would seem very dull without him.
Whom would she have to talk to when he was gone?
After dinner they usually sat on the terrace looking at the starry sea; the air was warm and balmy and vaguely scented: it was then he would ask her to marry him, on the eve of his departure.
He felt it in his bones that she would accept him.
One morning when he had been in Rhodes a little over a week, he happened to be coming upstairs as Betty was walking along the passage.
'You've never shown me your room, Betty,' he said.
'Haven't I?
Come in and have a look now.
It's rather nice.'
She turned back and he followed her in.