Chapter III

He crossed the Lagan in the ferry-boat, so impatient was he to get quickly to Maggie, but when he reached the restaurant, Maggie was not there. He stood in the doorway, looking about the large room, but there was no one present, for it was too early yet for mid-day meals. Maggie was probably engaged in the small room at the back of the restaurant and would presently appear. It was Mrs. Bothwell who came to answer his call.

"Oh, good morning!" he said, trying to keep the note of disappointment out of his voice.

"Good morning," she answered.

"It's a brave day!"

"It's not so bad," she grudgingly admitted.

"Is ... is Maggie in?" he asked.

"In!" she exclaimed, looking at him with astonishment plain on her face.

"Yes. Isn't she in? She's not sick or anything, is she?" he replied anxiously.

"Oh, dear bless you, no! She's not sick," Mrs. Bothwell said. "Do you mean to say you don't know where she is?"

"No, I ... I don't, Mrs. Bothwell!" There was a note of apprehension in his voice. "I thought, she'd be here!"

"But haven't you been to the house?"

"No," he answered. "I've just arrived from Ballyards this minute. What's wrong, Mrs. Bothwell!"

"There's nothing wrong that I know of. Only I don't understand you not knowing about it. Why aren't you at the church?"

"Church!"

"Aye. Sure, I'd be there myself only I can't leave the shop. I'm glad she's getting a fine day for it anyway!"

John touched her on the arm. "I don't understand what you're talking about, Mrs. Bothwell," he said. "What's happening!"

"Didn't you know she's being married the day on a policeman?..."

"Married!" he exclaimed incredulously.

"Aye. She's been going with him this long while back, and now that he's been promoted ... they've made him a sergeant ... they've got married. She's done well for herself. How is it you didn't know about it, and you and her such chums together?"

"Did I hear you saying she's getting married the day?" he murmured, gazing at her in a stupefied fashion.

"That's what. I keep on telling you," she replied, "only you don't pay no heed to me. I thought you were her cousin!..."

"No, I'm not her cousin," he answered. "I was ... I was going with her. That's all. I'm sorry to have bothered you, Mrs. Bothwell!"

"Oh, it's no bother at all. She must have been having you on, for the banns was up at St. George's this three weeks!..."

"St. George's!" he repeated.

"Aye, these three weeks. She had a fancy to be married in St. George's Church, for all it's a ritualistic place, and people says they're going fast to Popery there. But I don't wonder at her, for it's quare and nice to see the wee boys in their surplices, singing the hymns!..."

He interrupted her. "Three weeks ago," he said, as if calculating. "That must have been soon after I met her for the first time. I met her here in this room, Mrs. Bothwell. I'd been to the Royal to see a play, and I came in here for my tea, and I struck up to her for I liked her look!..."

"Oh, she's a nice enough looking girl is Maggie, though looks is not everything," Mrs. Bothwell interjected.

"She never told me!..."

"Oh, well, if it comes to that, you never told her anything about yourself, did you?" Mrs. Bothwell demanded. "I suppose she thought you were just a fellow out for a bit of fun, and she might as well have a bit of fun, too!"

"But I wasn't out for fun," he exclaimed. "I was in earnest!"

"That's where you made your mistake," said Mrs. Bothwell. "I'm sorry for you, but sure you're young enough not to take a thing like that to heart, and she's not the only girl in the world by a long chalk. By the time you're her age, she'll have a child or two, and'll mebbe be feeling very sorry for herself ... and you'll have the world fornent you still! A young fellow like you isn't going to let a wee thing like that upset you?"

"It isn't a wee thing, Mrs. Bothwell. It's a big thing," he insisted.

"Och, sure, everything's big looking 'til you see something bigger. One of these days you'll be wondering what in the earthly world made you think twice about her!"

He turned away from her and moved towards the door, but suddenly he remembered the letter which he had written to Maggie on the previous evening.

"Did a letter for her come this morning?" he said, turning again to Mrs. Bothwell. "I wrote to her last night to tell her I was coming up the day!"

"One did come," she answered. "I put it in the kitchen, intending to re-address it when I had a minute to spare. I'll go and get it. I suppose you don't want it sent on to her now?"

"No, I don't. It was only to tell her I'd meet her here!"

"Well, I'll bring it to you then." She went into the kitchen and presently returned, carrying John's letter in her hand. "Is this it?" she said. "It's got the Ballyards postmark on it."

He took it from her. "Yes, that's it," he replied, tearing it in pieces. "Could I trouble you to put it in the fire," he said, handing the torn paper to her.

"It's no trouble at all," she answered, taking the pieces from him.

"Good morning, Mrs. Bothwell!" he said.

"Well, good morning to you!"

He opened the door and was about to pass out of the restaurant when she spoke to him again.

"I wouldn't let a thing like that upset me if I was you," she said. "Sure, what's one girl more nor another girl! You'll get your pick and choice before long. A fine fellow like you'll not go begging for nothing!"

"I'm not letting it upset me," he said, "but it'll be the queer girl that'll make a fool of me in a hurry!"

"That's the spirit,'"' said Mrs. Bothwell.