Second Honeymoon

M. Ayres Ruby

Description

Spend a pleasant afternoon with Ruby Ayres' The Second Honeymoon, a lighthearted romance centered on a love triangle that's gone horribly awry. Jimmy Challoner is engaged to be married to Cynthia, an actress who is making a name for herself. Days before their wedding, Cynthia decides that Jimmy is not wealthy enough to deserve her hand. On the rebound, Jimmy jumps into a relationship with childhood pal Christine. Is "happily ever after" on the horizon?

Sujets

• Romance

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 octobre 2012
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781775562849
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE SECOND HONEYMOON
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RUBY M. AYRES
 
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The Second Honeymoon First published in 1918 ISBN 978-1-77556-284-9 © 2012 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter I - The Past Intervenes Chapter II - Jilted! Chapter III - The Two Women Chapter IV - Jimmy Gets News Chapter V - Sangster Takes a Hand Chapter VI - Jimmy Demands the Truth Chapter VII - Love and Poverty Chapter VIII - The Second Engagement Chapter IX - Motherless Chapter X - Jimmy Has a Visitor Chapter XI - Husband and Wife Chapter XII - Sangster is Consulted Chapter XIII - Christine Hears the Truth Chapter XIV - Bitterness Chapter XV - Sangster Speaks in Riddles Chapter XVI - The Past Returns Chapter XVII - Jimmy Breaks Out Chapter XVIII - Kettering Hears Something Chapter XIX - A Chance Meeting Chapter XX - Love Locked Out Chapter XXI - The Compact Chapter XXII - Too Late! Chapter XXIII - The Unexpected
Chapter I - The Past Intervenes
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James Challoner, known to his friends and intimates as Jimmy, brushedan imaginary speck of dust from the shoulder of his dinner jacket, andmomentarily stopped his cheery whistling to stare at himself in theglass with critical eyes.
Jimmy was feeling very pleased with himself in particular and the worldin general. He was young, and quite passably good-looking, he hadbacked a couple of winners that day for a nice little sum, and he wasengaged to a woman with whom he had been desperately in love for atleast three months.
Three months was a long time for Jimmy Challoner to be in love (as arule, three days was the outside limit which he allowed himself), butthis—well, this was the real thing at last—the real, romantic thingof which author chaps and playwright Johnnies wrote; the thing whichsweeps a man clean off his feet and paints the world with rainbow tints.
Jimmy Challoner was sure of it. His usually merry eyes sobered alittle as he met their solemn reflection in the mirror. He took up asilver-backed brush and carefully smoothed down a kink of hair whichstood aggressively erect above the rest. It was a confounded nuisance,that obstinate wave in his hair, making him look like a poet or adrawing-room actor.
Not that he objected to actors and the stage in the very least; on thecontrary, he had the profoundest admiration for them, at which onecould hardly wonder seeing that Cynthia—bless her heart!—was atpresent playing lead in one of the suburban theatres, and that at thatvery moment a pass for the stage box reposed happily in an inner pocketof his coat.
Cynthia was fast making a name for herself. In his adoring eyes shewas perfect, and in his blissful heart he was confident that one dayall London would be talking about her. Her photographs would be Inevery shop window, and people would stand all day outside the pit andgallery to cheer her on first nights.
When he voiced these sentiments to Cynthia herself, she only laughedand called him a "silly boy"; but he knew that she was pleased to hearthem all the same.
Jimmy Challoner gave a last look at his immaculate figure, took up hiscoat and gloves and went out.
He called a taxi and gave the address of the suburban theatre before heclimbed in out of the chilly night and sat back in a corner.
Jimmy Challoner was quite young, and very much in love; so much in lovethat as yet he had not penetrated the rouge and grease-paint of lifeand discovered the very ordinary material that lies beneath it. Theglare of the footlights still blinded him. Like a child who is takenfor the first time to a pantomime, he did not realise that theirbrilliance is there in order to hide imperfections.
He was so perfectly happy that he paid the driver double fare when hereached the theatre. An attentive porter hurried forward.
Just at the moment Jimmy Challoner was very well known in thatparticular neighbourhood; he was generous with his tips for one thing,and for another he had a cheery personality which went down with mostpeople.
He went round to the stage door as if he were perfectly at home there,as indeed he was. The doorkeeper bade him a respectful good evening,and asked no questions as he went on and up the chill stone passage.
At the top a door on the right was partly open. A bar of yellow lightstreamed out into the passage. A little flush crept into Challoner'syouthful face. He passed a hand once more nervously over therefractory kink before he went forward and knocked.
A preoccupied voice said, "Come in."
Challoner obeyed. He stood for a moment just inside the door withoutspeaking.
It was not a very large room, and the first impression it gave one wasthat it was frightfully overcrowded.
Every chair and table seemed littered with frocks and furbelows. Everyavailable space on the walls was covered with pictures and photographsand odds and ends. The room was brilliantly lit, and at adressing-table strewn with make-up boxes and a hundred and one toiletrequisites, a girl was reading a letter.
At first glance she looked very young. She was small and dainty, withclearly cut features and beautiful hair, the most beautiful hair in allthe world Jimmy Challoner thought for the thousandth time as he stoodin the doorway looking across at her with his foolish heart in hiseyes. She seemed to feel his gaze, for she turned sharply. Then shedrew in her breath hard, and hurriedly thrust the letter away in adrawer as she rose to her feet.
"You!" she said; then, "Jimmy, didn't—didn't you get my letter?"
Challoner went forward. His confident smile had faded a little at theunusual greeting. It was impossible not to realise that he was notexactly welcome.
"No, I haven't had a letter," he said rather blankly. "What did youwrite about? Is anything the matter?"
She laughed rather constrainedly. "No—at least, I can't explain now."Her eyes sought his face rather furtively. "I'm in a hurry. Comeround after the first act, will you?—that's the longest interval. Youwon't mind being sent away now, will you? I am due on almost directly."
She held her hand to him. "Silly boy! don't frown like that."
Challoner took the hand and drew her nearer to him. "I'm not goingtill you've kissed me."
There was a touch of masterfulness in his boyish voice. Cynthia Farrowhalf sighed, and for a moment a little line of pain bent her brows, butthe next moment she was smiling.
"Very well, just one, and be careful of the powder."
Challoner kissed her right on the lips. "Did you get my flowers? Isent roses."
"Yes, thank you so much, they are lovely."
She glanced across the room to where several bouquets lay on the table.Challoner's was only one of them.
That was what he hated—having to stand by and allow other men toshower presents on her.
He let her go and walked over to the table where the flowers lay. Hewas still frowning. Across the room Cynthia Farrow watched him ratheranxiously.
A magnificent cluster of orchids lay side by side with his own bouquetof roses; he bent and looked at the card; a little flush crept into hischeek.
"Mortlake again! I hate that fellow. It's infernal cheek of him tosend you flowers when he knows that you're engaged to me—"
He looked round at her. She was standing leaning against the littereddressing-table, eyes down-cast.
There was a moment of silence, then; Challoner went back and took herin his arms.
"I know I'm a jealous brute, but I can't stand it when these otherfellows send you things."
"You promised me you wouldn't mind."
"I know, but—oh, confound it!" A faint tap at the door was followedby the entrance of a dresser. Challoner moved away.
"After the first act, then," he said.
"Yes." But she did not look at him.
He went away disconsolately and round to the stage box. He wasconscious of a faint depression. Cynthia had not been pleased to seehim—had not been expecting him. Something was the matter. He hadvexed her. What had she written to him about, he wondered?
He looked round the house anxiously. It was well filled and his browcleared. He hated Cynthia to have to play to a poor house—she was sowonderful!
A lady in the stalls below bowed to him. Challoner stared, thenreturned the bow awkwardly.
Who the dickens was she, he asked himself?
She was middle-aged and grey-haired, and she had a girl in a whitefrock sitting beside her.
They were both looking up at him and smiling. There was somethingeagerly expectant in the girl's face.
Challoner felt embarrassed. He was sure that he ought to know who theywere, but for the life of him he could not think. He met so manypeople in his rather aimless life it was impossible to remember themall.
His eyes turned to them again and again. There was something veryfamiliar in the face of the elder woman—something— Challoner knithis brows. Who the dickens—
The lights went down here, and he forgot all about them as the curtainsrolled slowly up on Cynthia's first act.
Challoner almost knew the play by heart, but he followed it alleagerly, word by word, as if he had never seen it before, till the bigvelvet curtains fell together again, and a storm of applause broke thesilence.
Challoner rose hastily. He had just opened the door of the box to goto Cynthia when an attendant entered. He carried a note on a tray.
"For you, sir."
Challoner took it wonderingly. It was written in pencil on a page tornfrom a pocket-book.
"A lady in the stalls gave it to me, sir," the attendant explained,vaguely apologetic.
Jimmy unfolded the little slip of paper, and read the faintly pencil