But the golden days came to an end, as golden days will, since an everlasting Paradise is impossible on earth. I was forced to keep my promise to Cannington and seek London, else he would certainly have put in an inopportune appearance. Of course in spite of his title and looks, and the possible support of Mr. Walter Monk--always supposing the two met--he could do nothing now, as Gertrude had solemnly promised to be my wife. All the same I did not want Cannington to come stumbling into Love's garden. Later on, when the first ecstasy of delight had passed away, I promised myself that he should be formally presented to my newly-captured Diana. But at the moment a duet was better than a trio, so I explained matters to Gertrude and put the Rippler in order for a spin to London.
"But you won't remain long away, dear?" she asked me. "Promise me, promise me."
I did promise her, with many a kiss, on the bare road between Burwain and Tarhaven. So far I had taken her in my car, and now it was necessary that she should return. Only the birds and sheep, the sailing clouds and the all-beholding sun, saw our embrace, so we gave ourselves up fully to the delight. The parting indeed was "sweet sorrow," as Shakespeare says, and only at the golden moment did I fully understand the feelings of Romeo.
The day was balmy and sunny, the roads were dry, and the Rippler was on her best behavior, so the journey to London was extremely pleasant. I reached my West Kensington flat early in the afternoon. As I had telegraphed the probable time of my arrival to the caretaker's wife, who usually looked after my rooms, I found everything in good order. There was a brisk fire, a good meal, and a warm bath awaiting me, so I spent the next hour very pleasantly. Cannington had already been informed that I would call at Lady Denham's Grosvenor Square house about five o'clock, therefore I had ample time to get ready for the visit.
After writing a few letters, and looking into my bankbook, I arrayed myself in the purple and fine linen of the West End--that is, I assumed a frock coat, grey trousers, patent leather boots, and all the paraphernalia of society. Then I sallied forth, and--giving the Rippler a rest--jumped into a taxi-cab. After the perfect quietness of the country the bustle and roar of the many-colored life in London streets rather appealed to me. I was quite sorry when the vehicle stopped at my destination.