Sixty Days to Live

'You always were a flatterer, darling; but what do you think about it, seriously?'

'Does that matter? My little princess always did have her own way in everything, so it's a bit late in the day for her to try to put her responsibilities on her old father now.'

'But it does matter what you think, darling. Because, you see, for once in my life I can't make up my mind. If I were convinced that I could become a really great star I'd stick to my career, but I'm afraid the odds are rather against it. Yet I like making pictures and all the friends that I've made are in the film world. Sam insists that, if I marry him, I must cut out the films entirely, but of course he can offer me everything that money can buy by way of exchange.'

'Surely the crux of the matter is, are you really fond of him?'

'Yes. I'm not passionately in love with him or anything of that sort, but I'm beginning to think that I never shall be with anyone, and Sam is the only man I've ever met who has all the qualities a woman could ask for in a husband. He's kind, generous to a degree, definitely good-looking, and has that forceful personality which a real man should have.'

'On the other hand, he is a bit old for you, isn't he?'

Lavina nodded. 'That's just it. He's forty-six and I'm only twenty-three. I suppose that doesn't matter, really, if you're fond of a person, but I'm just a tiny bit frightened that in a few years' time I might fall for somebody younger and I'd hate to break up Sam's life by running away.'

Oliver had finished his calculation and was looking across at her. 'I don't think you need let that worry you,' he said quietly. 'I didn't mean to tell anybody, because it's a highly dangerous secret; but I think it a pity, Lavina, that you should die without going through the experience of marriage.'

Gervaise and Lavina turned to stare at him and she exclaimed: 'Oliver! What on earth d'you mean?'

He laid down a long Burma cheroot he was smoking on the edge of the ash-tray. 'Just this, my dear. A comet, which is not yet visible to the human eye, is approaching us at enormous speed. If it is a solid body, as we have some reason to suppose, our earth will be shattered into fragments when it hits us. It is now April 25th; the comet is due to arrive on June 24th and, in my opinion, none of us has more than sixty days to live.'

Even Worlds Sometimes Die

In her three years as a film actress Lavina had ridden on outdoor locations when her work required it, but it was many months since she had mounted a horse solely for pleasure. In consequence, it was with a special thrill that she cantered beside Derek Burroughs over the meadows surrounding her home, on the morning after her return to it.

After her three years' absence she was a very different Lavina from the girl of twenty who had run away to seek fame on the films, yet, to her, not a blade of grass seemed to have changed in the quiet Surrey landscape. The old Georgian mansion in which she had been born lay behind them down by the lake, with two-thirds of its windows dusty and shuttered; the green pastures curved away in front, broken by hedges, occasional coppices and the belt of woodland that bounded the estate, just as she had always known them.

On the crest of a hill she and Derek reined their horses in to a walk and he turned to smile at her.

'I see you haven't lost that splendid seat of yours.'

She laughed. 'Riding's like bicycling, isn't it? Once learnt, never forgotten. You ought to know that, darling.'

The endearment slipped out. In the film world she was so used to calling everybody 'darling', but she regretted having used that term to Derek. Time was when she had often called him 'darling', but that was long ago; and she feared now that he might attach a meaning to the word which she had not intended.

Before he could reply, she hurried on: 'Gervaise is looking well, isn't he? But keeping up this place must be an awful strain on him. Are things just as bad as ever, Derek?'

He nodded. 'I'm afraid so. He doesn't tell me much. You know how proud he is. If only he'd sell the place he could have a comfortable flat in London or a small house somewhere in the neighbourhood, but he's absolutely determined to hang on here. His income is just enough to keep the house going without servants but we poor farmers have been pretty badly hit, and I don't see much hope of permanent recovery.'

'You seem to take it very philosophically yourself.'

'Oh, I manage somehow. Selling a mare here and there and by sending all my stuff from the hothouses up to London. And I like the life; I wouldn't change it to be cooped up in an office, even if I could make ten times the money.'

She glanced at him swiftly from beneath lowered lids. His clear-cut features and the wavy brown hair she had so often stroked were as attractive as ever. Even the sight of him was enough to call up for her the smell of tobacco and old tweeds that clung to him and had once meant more to her than the perfumes of all Arabia. Giving herself a little shake she said:

'I think you're right. I can't see you mixed up in the turmoil of modern business. You'd hate it, Derek.'

'I should have thought you would have hated it, too. I've never been able to visualise the Lavina I loved rubbing shoulders with all the queer birds you must have met by this time.'

'Oh, I can look after myself. It's always the woman who makes the running, you know. A girl gets what she asks for and, if she takes a firm line to start with, all but a few outsiders are perfectly prepared just to remain friendly and let her alone.'

'You're glad to be back, though.'

'Terribly. It's like escaping from an orchid house, or rather from the heat and din of a ship's engine-room into the fresh sea air on deck.'

'Does that mean—' he hesitated, 'that there's a chance of your staying for some time?'

She shook her head. 'I'd like to, for Gervaise's sake. He's so very glad to see me. But I've come to a turning-point in my life and, whichever way I decide, I'll have arrangements to make which mean my going back to London tonight.'

'D'you mean that they've offered you a Hollywood contract and that you may be going abroad?'

'No. I may be giving up the films altogether. That's what I've got to decide.' 'By Jove! If you do chuck the films, once you've fixed things up we may be seeing lots more of you.'

'Yes. I shall never stay away so long again.'

'You might even come back to live here?'

'No, Derek, no.' She quickly quelled the hope that was so clear in his eager voice. 'If I decide to give up my career, it will be to marry.'

'I see,' he said slowly. 'So at last you've found a chap on whom you're really keen?'

'Sam Curry wants to marry me.'

'Curry?'

'Yes. Didn't you realise?'

'But, hang it all, he's old enough to be your father.'

'What has that to do with it?' Lavina looked away angrily. 'He has one of the best brains in England and he's incredibly nice.'

'Perhaps. But, if it comes to brains, I daresay Einstein has a better. I should have thought brains were one of the least important things when it came to a question of marriage.'

'Oh, don't be silly. I never said I was marrying him for his brains alone.'

'For what, then? His money?'

"Don't you think that you're exceeding the privileges of even a very old friend?' Lavina said, with dangerous quietness.

'Sorry,' he apologised. 'Let's canter.'

An hour later, when they got back to the house and Derek had handed the horse over to the groom he had brought with him, they found Gervaise Stapleton, his brother Oliver, and Sir Samuel Curry congregated in the library.

'One can't ignore Oliver's statement,' Gervaise was saying. 'After all, he's an astronomer, and if he says this comet is coming nearer to the earth than it ever has before, we must accept that as a fact.'

The three men turned as Lavina and Derek came into the room. 'Hullo,' she cried, 'we've had such a glorious ride that I'd almost forgotten about the comet. I see Sam's having it out with you.'