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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +[Italics are indicated by underscores +James Rusk, jrusk@cyberramp.net.] + + + + + +THE EVIL GENIUS + +by Wilkie Colllins + + + + +A Domestic Story + + + + +Affectionately Dedicated +to Holman Hunt + + + + +BEFORE THE STORY. + +Miss Westerfield's Education + +1.--The Trial. + +THE gentlemen of the jury retired to consider their verdict. + +Their foreman was a person doubly distinguished among his +colleagues. He had the clearest head, and the readiest tongue. +For once the right man was in the right place. + +Of the eleven jurymen, four showed their characters on the +surface. They were: + +The hungry juryman, who wanted his dinner. + +The inattentive juryman, who drew pictures on his blotting paper. + +The nervous juryman, who suffered from fidgets. + +The silent juryman, who decided the verdict. + +Of the seven remaining members, one was a little drowsy man who +gave no trouble; one was an irritable invalid who served under +protest; and five represented that vast majority of the +population--easily governed, tranquilly happy--which has no +opinion of its own. + + + +The foreman took his place at the head of the table. His +colleagues seated themselves on either side of him. Then there +fell upon that assembly of men a silence, never known among an +assembly of women--the silence which proceeds from a general +reluctance to be the person who speaks first. + +It was the foreman's duty, under these circumstances, to treat +his deliberative brethren as we treat our watches when they stop: +he wound the jury up and set them going. + +"Gentlemen," he began, "have you formed any decided opinion on +the case--thus far?" + +Some of them said "Yes," and some of them said "No." The little +drowsy man said nothing. The fretful invalid cried, "Go on!" The +nervous juryman suddenly rose. His brethren all looked at him, +inspired by the same fear of having got an orator among them. He +was an essentially polite man; and he hastened to relieve their +minds. "Pray don't be alarmed, gentlemen: I am not going to make +a speech. I suffer from fidgets. Excuse me if I occasionally +change my position." The hungry juryman (who dined early) looked +at his watch. "Half-past four," he said. "For Heaven's sake cut +it short." He was the fattest person present; and he suggested a +subject to the inattentive juryman who drew pictures on his +blotting-paper. Deeply interested in the progress of the +likeness, his neighbors on either side looked over his shoulders. +The little drowsy man woke with a start, and begged pardon of +everybody. The fretful invalid said to himself, "Damned fools, +all of them!" The patient foreman, biding his time, stated the +case. + +"The prisoner waiting our verdict, gentlemen, is the Honorable +Roderick Westerfield, younger brother of the present Lord Le +Basque. He is charged with willfully casting away the British +bark _John Jerniman_, under his command, for the purpose of +fraudulently obtaining a share of the insurance money; and +further of possessing himself of certain Brazilian diamonds, +which formed part of the cargo. In plain words, here is a +gentleman born in the higher ranks of life accused of being a +thief. Before we attempt to arrive at a decision, we shall only +be doing him justice if we try to form some general estimate of +his character, based on the evidence--and we may fairly begin by +inquiring into his relations with the noble family to which he +belongs. The evidence, so far, is not altogether creditable to +him. Being at the time an officer of the Royal Navy, he appears +to have outraged the feelings of his family by marrying a barmaid +at a public-house." + +The drowsy juryman, happening to be awake at that moment, +surprised the foreman by interposing a statement. "Talking of +barmaids," he said, "I know a curate's daughter. She's in +distressed circumstances, poor thing; and she's a barmaid +somewhere in the north of England. Curiously enough, the name of +the town has escaped my memory. If we had a map of England--" +There he was interrupted, cruelly interrupted, by one of his +brethren. + +"And by what right," cried the greedy juryman, speaking under the +exasperating influence of hunger--"by what right does Mr. +Westerfield's family dare to suppose that a barmaid may not be a +perfectly virtuous woman?" + +Hearing this, the restless gentleman (in the act of changing his +position) was suddenly inspired with interest in the proceedings. +"Pardon me for putting myself forward," he said, with his +customary politeness. "Speaking as an abstainer from fermented +liquors, I must really protest against these allusions to +barmaids." + +"Speaking as a consumer of fermented liquors," the invalid +remarked, "I wish I had a barmaid and a bottle of champagne +before me now." + +Superior to interruption, the admirable foreman went on: + +"Whatever you may think, gentlemen, of the prisoner's marriage, +we have it in evidence that his relatives turned their backs on +him from that moment--with the one merciful exception of the head +of the family. Lord Le Basque exerted his influence with the +Admiralty, and obtained for his brother (then out of employment) +an appointment to a ship. All the witnesses agree that Mr. +Westerfield thoroughly understood his profession. If he could +have controlled himself, he might have risen to high rank in the +Navy. His temper was his ruin. He quarreled with one of his +superior officers--" + +"Under strong provocation," said a member of the jury. + +"Under strong provocation," the foreman admitted. "But provocation +is not an excuse, judged by the rules of discipline. The prisoner +challenged the officer on duty to fight a duel, at the first +opportunity, on shore; and, receiving a contemptuous refusal, +struck him on the quarter-deck. As a matter of course, Mr. +Westerfield was tried by court-martial, and was dismissed the +service. Lord Le Basque's patience was not exhausted yet. The +Merchant Service offered a last chance to the prisoner of +retrieving his position, to some extent at least. He was fit for +the sea, and fit for nothing else. At my lord's earnest request +the owners of the _John Jerniman_, trading between Liverpool and +Rio, took Mr. Westerfield on trial as first mate, and, to his +credit be it said, he justified his brother's faith in him. In a +tempest off the coast of Africa the captain was washed overboard +and the first mate succeeded to the command. His seamanship and +courage saved the vessel, under circumstances of danger which +paralyzed the efforts of the other officers.. He was confirmed, +rightly confirmed, in the command of the ship. And, so far, we +shall certainly not be wrong if we view his character on the +favorable side." + +There the foreman paused, to collect his ideas. + +Certain members of the assembly--led by the juryman who wanted +his dinner, and supported by his inattentive colleague, then +engaged in drawing a ship in a storm, and a captain falling +overboard--proposed the acquittal of the prisoner without further +consideration. But the fretful invalid cried "Stuff!" and the +five jurymen who had no opinions of their own, struck by the +admirable brevity with which he expressed his sentiments, sang +out in chorus, "Hear! hear! hear!" The silent juryman, hitherto +overlooked, now attracted attention. He was a bald-headed person +of uncertain age, buttoned up tight in a long frockcoat, and +wearing his gloves all through the proceedings. When the chorus +of five cheered, he smiled mysteriously. Everybody wondered what +that smile meant. The silent juryman kept his opinion to himself. +From that moment he began to exercise a furtive influence over +the jury. Even the foreman looked at him, on resuming the +narrative. + +"After a certain term of service, gentlemen, during which we +learn nothing to his disadvantage, the prisoner's merits appear +to have received their reward. He was presented with a share in +the ship which he commanded, in addition to his regular salary as +master. With these improved prospects he sailed from Liverpool on +his last voyage to Brazil; and no one, his wife included, had the +faintest suspicion that he left England under circumstances of +serious pecuniary embarrassment. The testimony of his creditors, +and of other persons with whom he associated distinctly proves +that his leisure hours on shore had been employed in card-playing +and in betting on horse races. After an unusually long run of +luck, his good fortune seems to have deserted him. He suffered +considerable losses, and was at last driven to borrowing at a +high rate of interest, without any reasonable prospect of being +able to repay the money-lenders into whose hands he had fallen. +When he left Rio on the homeward voyage, there is no sort of +doubt that he was returning to England to face creditors whom he +was unable to pay. There, gentlemen, is a noticeable side to his +character which we may call the gambling side, and which (as I +think) was too leniently viewed by the judge." + +He evidently intended to add a word or two more. But the +disagreeable invalid insisted on being heard. + +"In plain English," he said, "you are for finding the prisoner +guilty." + +"In plain English," the foreman rejoined, "I refuse to answer +that question." + +"Why?" + +"Because it is no part of my duty to attempt to influence the +verdict." + +"You have been trying to influence the verdict, sir, ever since +you entered this room. I appeal to all the gentlemen present." + +The patience of the long-suffering foreman failed him at last. +"Not another word shall pass my lips," he said, "until you find +the prisoner guilty or not guilty among yourselves--and then I'll +tell you if I agree to your verdict." + +He folded his arms, and looked like the image of a man who +intended to keep his word. + +The hungry juryman laid himself back in his chair, and groaned. +The amateur artist, who had thus far found a fund of amusement in +his blotting-paper, yawned discontentedly and dropped his pen. +The courteous gentleman who suffered from fidgets requested leave +to walk up and down the room; and at the first turn he took woke +the drowsy little man, and maddened the irritable invalid by the +creaking of his boots. The chorus of five, further than ever from +arriving at an opinion of their own, looked at the silent +juryman. Once more he smiled mysteriously; and once more he +offered an explanation of what was passing in his mind--except +that he turned his bald head slowly in the direction of the +foreman. Was he in sympathy with a man who had promised to be as +silent as himself? + +In the meantime, nothing was said or done. Helpless silence +prevailed in every part of the room. + +"Why the devil doesn't somebody begin?" cried the invalid. "Have +you all forgotten the evidence?" + +This startling question roused the jury to a sense of what was +due to their oaths, if not to themselves. Some of them +recollected the evidence in one way, and some of them recollected +it in another; and each man insisted on doing justice to his own +excellent memory, and on stating his own unanswerable view of the +case. + +The first man who spoke began at the middle of the story told by +the witnesses in court. "I am for acquitting the captain, +gentlemen; he ordered out the boats, and saved the lives of the +crew."--"And I am for finding him guilty, because the ship struck +on a rock in broad daylight, and in moderate weather."--"I agree +with you, sir. The evidence shows that the vessel was steered +dangerously near to the land, by direction of the captain, who +gave the course."--"Come, come, gentlemen! let us do the captain +justice. The defense declares that he gave the customary course, +and that it was not followed when he left the deck. As for his +leaving the ship in moderate weather, the evidence proves that he +believed he saw signs of a storm brewing."--"Yes, yes, all very +well, but what were the facts? When the loss of the ship was +reported, the Brazilian authorities sent men to the wreck, on the +chance of saving the cargo; and, days afterward, there the ship +was found, just as the captain and the crew had left +her."--"Don't forget, sir, that the diamonds were missing when +the salvors examined the wreck."--"All right, but that's no proof +that the captain stole the diamonds; and, before they had saved +half the cargo, a storm did come on and break the vessel up; so +the poor man was only wrong in the matter of time, after +all."--"Allow me to remind you, gentlemen that the prisoner was +deeply in debt, and therefore had an interest in stealing the +diamonds."--"Wait a little, sir. Fair play's a jewel. Who was in +charge of the deck when the ship struck? The second mate. And +what did the second mate do, when he heard that his owners had +decided to prosecute? He committed suicide! Is there no proof of +guilt in that act?"--"You are going a little too fast, sir. The +coroner's jury declared that the second mate killed himself in a +state of temporary insanity."--"Gently! gently! we have nothing +to do with what the coroner's jury said. What did the judge say +when he summed up?"--"Bother the judge! He said what they all +say: 'Find the prisoner guilty, if you think he did it; and find +him not guilty, if you think he didn't.' And then he went away to +his comfortable cup of tea in his private room. And here are we +perishing of hunger, and our families dining without us."--"Speak +for yourself, sir, _I_ haven't got a family."--"Consider yourself +lucky, sir; _I_ have got twelve, and my life is a burden to me, +owing to the difficulty of making both ends meet."--"Gentlemen! +gentlemen! we are wandering again. Is the captain guilty or not? +Mr. Foreman, we none of us intended to offend you. Will you tell +us what _you_ think?" + +No; the foreman kept his word. "Decide for yourselves first," was +his only reply. + +In this emergency, the member afflicted with fidgets suddenly +assumed a position of importance. He started a new idea. + +"Suppose we try a show of hands," he suggested. "Gentlemen who +find the prisoner guilty will please hold up their hands." + +Three votes were at once registered in this way, including the +vote of the foreman. After a moment of doubt, the chorus of five +decided on following the opinion which happened to be the first +opinion expressed in point of time. Thereupon, the show of hands +for the condemnation of the prisoner rose to eight. Would this +result have an effect on the undecided minority of four? In any +case, they were invited to declare themselves next. Only three +hands were held up. One incomprehensible man abstained from +expressing his sentiments even by a sign. Is it necessary to say +who that man was? A mysterious change had now presented itself in +his appearance, which made him an object of greater interest than +ever. His inexplicable smile had vanished. He sat immovable, with +closed eyes. Was he meditating profoundly? or was he only asleep? +The quick-witted foreman had long since suspected him of being +simply the stupidest person present--with just cunning enough to +conceal his own dullness by holding his tongue. The jury arrived +at no such sensible conclusion. Impressed by the intense +solemnity of his countenance, they believed him to be absorbed in +reflections of the utmost importance to the verdict. After a +heated conference among themselves, they decided on inviting the +one independent member present--the member who had taken no part +in their proceedings--to declare his opinion in the plainest +possible form. "Which way does your view of the verdict incline, +sir? Guilty or not guilty?" + +The eyes of the silent juryman opened with the slow and solemn +dilation of the eyes of an owl. Placed between the alternatives +of declaring himself in one word or in two, his taciturn wisdom +chose the shortest form of speech. "Guilty," he answered--and +shut his eyes again, as if he had had enough of it already. + +An unutterable sense of relief pervaded the meeting. Enmities +were forgotten and friendly looks were exchanged. With one +accord, the jury rose to return to court. The prisoner's fate was +sealed. The verdict was Guilty. + + +2.--The Sentence. + + +The low hum of talk among the persons in court ceased when the +jury returned to their places. Curiosity now found its center of +attraction in the prisoner's wife--who had been present +throughout the trial. The question of the moment was: How will +she bear the interval of delay which precedes the giving of the +verdict? + +In the popular phrase, Mrs. Westerfield was a showy woman. Her +commanding figure was finely robed in dark colors; her profuse +light hair hung over her forehead in little clusters of ringlets; +her features, firmly but not delicately shaped, were on a large +scale. No outward betrayal of the wife's emotion rewarded the +public curiosity: her bold light-gray eyes sustained the general +gaze without flinching. To the surprise of the women present, she +had brought her two young children with her to the trial. The +eldest was a pretty little girl of ten years old; the second +child (a boy) sat on his mother's knee. It was generally observed +that Mrs. Westerfield took no notice of her eldest child. When +she whispered a word from time to time, it was always addressed +to her son. She fondled him when he grew restless; but she never +looked round to see if the girl at her side was as weary of the +proceedings as the boy. + +The judge took his seat, and the order was given to bring the +prisoner up for judgment. + +There was a long pause. The audience--remembering his ghastly +face when he first appeared before them--whispered to each other, +"He's taken ill"; and the audience proved to be right. + +The surgeon of the prison entered the witness-box, and, being +duly sworn, made his medical statement. + +The prisoner's heart had been diseased for some time past, and +the malady had been neglected. He had fainted under the prolonged +suspense of waiting for the verdict. The swoon had proved to be +of such a serious nature that the witness refused to answer for +consequences if a second fainting-fit was produced by the +excitement of facing the court and the jury. + +Under these circumstances, the verdict was formally recorded, and +sentence was deferred. Once more, the spectators looked at the +prisoner's wife. + +She had risen to leave the court. In the event of an adverse +verdict, her husband had asked for a farewell interview; and the +governor of the prison, after consultation with the surgeon, had +granted the request. It was observed, when she retired, that she +held her boy by the hand, and left the girl to follow. A +compassionate lady near her offered to take care of the children +while she was absent. Mrs. Westerfield answered quietly and +coldly: "Thank you--their father wishes to see them." + +The prisoner was dying; nobody could look at him and doubt it. + +His eyes opened wearily, when his wife and children approached +the bed on which he lay helpless--the wreck of a grandly-made +man. He struggled for breath, but he could still speak a word or +two at a time. "I don't ask you what the verdict is," he said to +his wife; "I see it in your face." + +Tearless and silent, she waited by her husband's side. He had +only noticed her for a moment. All his interest seemed to be +centered in his children. The girl stood nearest to him, he +looked at her with a faint smile. + +The poor child understood him. Crying piteously, she put her arms +around his neck and kissed him. "Dear papa," she said; "come home +and let me nurse you." + +The surgeon, watching the father's face, saw a change in him +which the other persons present had not observed. The failing +heart felt that parting moment, and sank under it. "Take the +child away," the surgeon whispered to the mother. Brandy was near +him; he administered it while he spoke, and touched the +fluttering pulse. It felt, just felt, the stimulant. He revived +for a moment, and looked wistfully for his son. "The boy," he +murmured; "I want my boy." As his wife brought the child to him, +the surgeon whispered to her again. "If you have anything to say +to him be quick about it!" She shuddered; she took his cold hand. +Her touch seemed to nerve him with new strength; he asked her to +stoop over him. "They won't let me write here," he whispered, +"unless they see my letter." He paused to get his breath again. +"Lift up my left arm," he gasped. "Open the wrist-band." + +She detached the stud which closed the wrist-band of the shirt. +On the inner side of the linen there was a line written in red +letters--red of the color of blood. She saw these words: _Look in +the lining of my trunk._ + +"What for?" she asked. + +The fading light in his eyes flashed on her a dreadful look of +doubt. His lips fell apart in the vain effort to answer. His last +sigh fluttered the light ringlets of her hair as she bent over +him. + +The surgeon pointed to her children. "Take the poor things home," +he said; "they have seen the last of their father." + +Mrs. Westerfield obeyed in silence. She had her own reasons for +being in a hurry to get home. Leaving the children under the +servant's care, she locked herself up in the dead man's room, and +emptied his trunk of the few clothes that had been left in it. + +The lining which she was now to examine was of the customary +material, and of the usual striped pattern in blue and white. Her +fingers were not sufficiently sensitive to feel anything under +the surface, when she tried it with her hand. Turning the empty +trunk with the inner side of the lid toward the light, she +discovered, on one of the blue stripes of the lining, a thin +little shining stain which looked like a stain of dried gum. +After a moment's consideration, she cut the gummed line with a +penknife. Something of a white color appeared through the +aperture. She drew out a folded sheet of paper. + +It proved to be a letter in her husband's hand-writing. An +inclosure dropped to the floor when she opened it, in the shape +of a small slip of paper. She picked it up. The morsel of paper +presented letters, figures, and crosses arranged in lines, and +mingled together in what looked like hopeless confusion. + + +3.--The Letter. + + +Mrs. Westerfield laid the incomprehensible slip of paper aside, +and, in search of an explanation, returned to the letter. Here +again she found herself in a state of perplexity. Directed to +"Mrs. Roderick Westerfield," the letter began abruptly, without +the customary form of address. Did it mean that her husband was +angry with her when he wrote? It meant that he doubted her. + +In these terms he expressed himself: + + + +"I write to you before my trial takes place. If the verdict goes +in my favor, I shall destroy what I have written. If I am found +guilty, I must leave it to you to do what I should otherwise have +done for myself. + +"The undeserved misfortune that has overtaken me began with the +arrival of my ship in the port of Rio. Our second mate (his duty +for the day being done) asked leave to go on shore--and never +returned. What motive determined him on deserting, I am not able +to say. It was my own wish to supply his place by promoting the +best seaman on board. My owners' agents overruled me, and +appointed a man of their own choosing. + +"What nation he belonged to I don't know. The name he gave me was +Beljames, and he was reported to be a broken-down gentleman. +Whoever he might be, his manner and his talk were captivating. +Everybody liked him. + +"After the two calamities of the loss of the ship and the +disappearance of the diamonds--these last being valued at five +thousand pounds--I returned to England by the first opportunity +that offered, having Beljames for a companion. + +"Shortly after getting back to my house in London, I was +privately warned by a good friend that my owners had decided to +prosecute me for willfully casting away the ship, and (crueler +still) for having stolen the missing diamonds. The second mate, +who had been in command of the vessel when she struck on the +rock, was similarly charged along with me. Knowing myself to be +innocent, I determined, of course, to stand my trial. My wonder +was, what Beljames would do. Would he follow my example? or, if +he got the chance, would he try to make his escape? + +"I might have thought it only friendly to give this person a word +of warning, if I had known where to find him. We had separated +when the ship reached the port of Falmouth, in Cornwall, and had +not met since. I gave him my address in London; but he gave me no +address in return. + +"On the voyage home, Beljames told me that a legacy had been left +to him; being a small freehold house and garden in St. John's +Wood, London. His agent, writing to him on the subject, had +reported the place to be sadly out of repair, and had advised him +to find somebody who would take it off his hands on reasonable terms. +This seemed to point to a likelihood of his being still in London, +trying to sell his house. + +"While my mind was running on these recollections, I was told +that a decent elderly woman wanted to see me. She proved to be +the landlady of the house in which Beljames lodged; and she +brought an alarming message. The man was dying, and desired to +see me. I went to him immediately. + +"Few words are best, when one has to write about one's own +troubles. + +"Beljames had heard of the intended prosecution. How he had been +made aware of it, death left him no time to tell me. The +miserable wretch had poisoned himself--whether in terror of +standing his trial, or in remorse of conscience, it is not any +business of mine to decide. Most unluckily for me, he first +ordered the doctor and the landlady out of the room; and then, +when we two were alone, owned that he had purposely altered the +course of the ship, and had stolen the diamonds. + +"To do him justice, he was eager to save me from suffering for +his fault. + +"Having eased his mind by confession, he gave me the slip of +paper (written in cipher) which you will find inclosed in this. +'There is my note of the place where the diamonds are hidden,' he +said. Among the many ignorant people who know nothing of ciphers, +I am one--and I told him so. 'That's how I keep my secret,' he +said; 'write from my dictation, and you shall know what it means. +Lift me up first.' As I did it, he rolled his head to and fro, +evidently in pain. But he managed to point to pen, ink, and +paper, on a table hard by, on which his doctor had been writing. +I left him for a moment, to pull the table nearer to the bed--and +in that moment he groaned, and cried out for help. I ran to the +room downstairs where the doctor was waiting. When we got back to +him he was in convulsions. It was all over with Beljames. + +"The lawyers who are to defend me have tried to get Experts, as +they call them, to interpret the cipher. The Experts have all +failed. They will declare, if they are called as witnesses, that +the signs on the paper are not according to any known rules, and +are marks made at random, meaning nothing. + +"As for any statement, on my part, of the confession made to me, +the law refuses to hear it, except from the mouth of a witness. I +might prove that the ship's course was changed, contrary to my +directions, after I had gone below to rest, if I could find the +man who was steering at the time. God only knows where that man +is. + +"On the other hand, the errors of my past life, and my being in +debt, are circumstances dead against me. The lawyers seem to +trust almost entirely in a famous counsel, whom they have engaged +to defend me. For my own part, I go to my trial with little or no +hope. + +"If the verdict is guilty, and if you have any regard left for my +character, never rest until you have found somebody who can +interpret these cursed signs. Do for me, I say, what I cannot do +for myself. Recover the diamonds; and, when you restore them, +show my owners this letter. + +"Kiss the children for me. I wish them, when they are old enough, +to read this defense of myself and to know that their father, who +loved them dearly, was an innocent man. My good brother will take +care of you, for my sake. I have done. + + RODERICK WESTERFIELD." + + +Mrs. Westerfield took up the cipher once more. She looked at it +as if it were a living thing that defied her. + +"If I am able to read this gibberish," she decided, "I know what +I'll do with the diamonds!" + +4.--The Garret. + +One year exactly after the fatal day of the trial, Mrs. +Westerfield (secluded in the sanctuary of her bedroom) celebrated +her release from the obligation of wearing widow's weeds. + +The conventional graduations in the outward expression of grief, +which lead from black clothing to gray, formed no part of this +afflicted lady's system of mourning. She laid her best blue +walking dress and her new bonnet to match on the bed, and admired +them to her heart's content. Her discarded garments were left on +the floor. "Thank Heaven, I've done with you!" she said--and +kicked her rusty mourning out of the way as she advanced to the +fireplace to ring the bell. + +"Where is my little boy?" she asked, when the landlady entered +the room. + +"He's down with me in the kitchen, ma'am; I'm teaching him to +make a plum cake for himself. He's so happy! I hope you don't +want him just now?" + +"Not the least in the world. I want you to take care of him while +I am away. By-the-by, where's Syd?" + +The elder child (the girl) had been christened Sydney, in +compliment to one of her father's female relatives. The name was +not liked by her mother--who had shortened it to Syd, by way of +leaving as little of it as possible. With a look at Mrs. +Westerfield which expressed ill-concealed aversion, the landlady +answered: "She's up in the lumber-room, poor child. She says you +sent her there to be out of the way." + +"Ah, to be sure, I did." + +"There's no fireplace in the garret, ma'am. I'm afraid the little +girl must be cold and lonely." + +It was useless to plead for Syd--Mrs. Westerfield was not +listening. Her attention was absorbed by her own plump and pretty +hands. She took a tiny file from the dressing-table, and put a +few finishing touches to her nails. "Send me some hot water," she +said; "I want to dress." + +The servant girl who carried the hot water upstairs was new to +the ways of the house. After having waited on Mrs. Westerfield, +she had been instructed by the kind-hearted landlady to go on to +the top floor. "You will find a pretty little girl in the garret, +all by herself. Say you are to bring her down to my room, as soon +as her mamma has gone out." + +Mrs. Westerfield's habitual neglect of her eldest child was known +to every person in the house. Even the new servant had heard of +it. Interested by what she saw, on opening the garret door, she +stopped on the threshold and looked in. + +The lumber in the room consisted of two rotten old trunks, a +broken chair, and a dirty volume of sermons of the old-fashioned +quarto size. The grimy ceiling, slanting downward to a cracked +window, was stained with rain that had found its way through the +roof. The faded wall-paper, loosened by damp, was torn away in +some places, and bulged loose in others. There were holes in the +skirting-board; and from one of them peeped the brightly timid +eyes of the child's only living companion in the garret--a mouse, +feeding on crumbs which she had saved from her breakfast. + +Syd looked up when the mouse darted back into its hole, on the +opening of the door. "Lizzie! Lizzie!" she said, gravely, "you +ought to have come in without making a noise. You have frightened +away my youngest child." + +The good-natured servant burst out laughing. "Have you got a +large family, miss?" she inquired, humoring the joke. + +Syd failed to see the joke. "Only two more," she answered as +gravely as ever--and lifted up from the floor two miserable +dolls, reduced to the last extremity of dirt and dilapidation. +"My two eldest," this strange child resumed, setting up the dolls +against one of the empty trunks. "The eldest is a girl, and her +name is Syd. The other is a boy, untidy in his clothes, as you +see. Their kind mamma forgives them when they are naughty, and +buys ponies for them to ride on, and always has something nice +for them to eat when they are hungry. Have you got a kind mamma, +Lizzie? And are you very fond of her?" + +Those innocent allusions to the neglect which was the one sad +experience of Syd's young life touched the servant's heart. A +bygone time was present to her memory, when she too had been left +without a playfellow to keep her company or a fire to warm her, +and she had not endured it patiently. + +"Oh, my dear," she said, "your poor little arms are red with +cold. Come to me and let me rub them." + +But Syd's bright imagination was a better protection against the +cold than all the rubbing that the hands of a merciful woman +could offer. "You are very kind, Lizzie," she answered. "I don't +feel the cold when I am playing with my children. I am very +careful to give them plenty of exercise, we are going to walk in +the Park." + +She gave a hand to each of the dolls, and walked slowly round +and round the miserable room, pointing out visionary persons of +distinction and objects of interest. "Here's the queen, my dears, +in her gilt coach, drawn by six horses. Do you see her scepter +poking out of the carriage window? She governs the nation with +that. Bow to the queen. And now look at the beautiful bright +water. There's the island where the ducks live. Ducks are happy +creatures. They have their own way in everything, and they're +good to eat when they're dead. At least they used to be good, +when we had nice dinners in papa's time. I try to amuse the poor +little things, Lizzie. Their papa is dead. I'm obliged to be papa +and mamma to them, both in one. Do you feel the cold, my dears?" +She shivered as she questioned her imaginary children. "Now we +are at home again," she said, and led the dolls to the empty +fireplace. "Roaring fires always in _my_ house," cried the +resolute little creature, rubbing her hands cheerfully before the +bleak blank grate. + +Warm-hearted Lizzie could control herself no longer. + +"If the child would only make some complaint," she burst out, "it +wouldn't be so dreadful! Oh, what a shame! what a shame!" she +cried, to the astonishment of little Syd. "Come down, my dear, to +the nice warm room where your brother is. Oh, your mother? I +don't care if your mother sees us; I should like to give your +mother a piece of my mind. There! I don't mean to frighten you; +I'm one of your bad children--I fly into a passion. You carry the +dolls and I'll carry _you_. Oh, how she shivers! Give us a kiss." + +Sympathy which expressed itself in this way was new to Syd. Her +eyes opened wide in childish wonder--and suddenly closed again in +childish terror, when her good friend the servant passed Mrs. +Westerfield's door on the way downstairs. "If mamma bounces out +on us," she whispered, "pretend we don't see her." The nice warm +room received them in safety. Under no stress of circumstances +had Mrs. Westerfield ever been known to dress herself in a hurry. +A good half-hour more had passed before the house door was heard +to bang--and the pleasant landlady, peeping through the window, +said: "There she goes. Now, we'll enjoy ourselves!" + +5.--The Landlord. + +Mrs. Westerfield's destination was the public-house in which she +had been once employed as a barmaid. Entering the place without +hesitation, she sent in her card to the landlord. He opened the +parlor door himself and invited her to walk in. + +"You wear well," he said, admiring her. "Have you come back here +to be my barmaid again?" + +"Do you think I am reduced to that?" she answered. + +"Well, my dear, more unlikely things have happened. They tell me +you depend for your income on Lord Le Basque--and his lordship's +death was in the newspapers last week." + +"And his lordship's lawyers continue my allowance." + +Having smartly set the landlord right in those words, she had not +thought it necessary to add that Lady Le Basque, continuing the +allowance at her husband's request, had also notified that it +would cease if Mrs. Westerfield married again. + +"You're a lucky woman," the landlord remarked. "Well, I'm glad to +see you. What will you take to drink?" + +"Nothing, thank you. I want to know if you have heard anything +lately of James Bellbridge?" + +The landlord was a popular person in his own circle--not +accustomed to restrain himself when he saw his way to a joke. +"Here's constancy!" he said. "She's sweet on James, after having +jilted him twelve years ago!" + +Mrs. Westerfield replied with dignity. "I am accustomed to be +treated respectfully," she replied. "I wish you good-morning." + +The easy landlord pressed her back into her chair. "Don't be a +fool," he said; "James is in London--James is staying in my +house. What do you think of that?" + +Mrs. Westerfield's bold gray eyes expressed eager curiosity and +interest. "You don't mean that he is going to be barman here +again?" + +"No such luck, my dear; he is a gentleman at large, who +patronizes my house." + +Mrs. Westerfield went on with her questions. + +"Has he left America for good?" + +"Not he! James Bellbridge is going back to New York, to open a +saloon (as they call it) in partnership with another man. He's in +England, he says, on business. It's my belief that he wants money +for this new venture on bad security. They're smart people in New +York. His only chance of getting his bills discounted is to +humbug his relations, down in the country." + +"When does he go to the country?" + +"He's there now." + +"When does he come back?" + +"You're determined to see him, it appears. He comes back +to-morrow." + +"Is he married?" + +"Aha! now we're coming to the point. Make your mind easy. Plenty +of women have set the trap for him, but he has not walked into it +yet. Shall I give him your love?" + +"Yes," she said, coolly. "As much love as you please." + +"Meaning marriage?" the landlord inquired. + +"And money," Mrs. Westerfield added. + +"Lord Le Basque's money." + +"Lord Le Basque's money may go to the Devil!" + +"Hullo! Your language reminds me of the time when you were a +barmaid. You don't mean to say you have had a fortune left you?" + +"I do! Will you give a message to James?" + +"I'll do anything for a lady with a fortune." + +"Tell him to come and drink tea with his old sweetheart tomorrow, +at six o'clock." + +"He won't do it." + +"He will." + +With that difference of opinion, they parted. + +6.--The Brute. + +To-morrow came--and Mrs. Westerfield's faithful James justified +her confidence in him. + +"Oh, Jemmy, how glad I am to see you! You dear, dear fellow. I'm +yours at last." + +"That depends, my lady, on whether I want you. Let go of my +neck." + +The man who entered this protest against imprisonment in the arms +of a fine woman, was one of the human beings who are grown to +perfection on English soil. He had the fat face, the pink +complexion, the hard blue eyes, the scanty yellow hair, the smile +with no meaning in it, the tremendous neck and shoulders, the +mighty fists and feet, which are seen in complete combination in +England only. Men of this breed possess a nervous system without +being aware of it; suffer affliction without feeling it; exercise +courage without a sense of danger; marry without love; eat and +drink without limit; and sink (big as they are), when disease +attacks them, without an effort to live. + +Mrs. Westerfield released her guest's bull-neck at the word of +command. It was impossible not to submit to him--he was so +brutal. Impossible not to admire him--he was so big. + +"Have you no love left for me?" was all she ventured to say. + +He took the reproof good-humoredly. "Love?" he repeated. "Come! I +like that--after throwing me over for a man with a handle to his +name. Which am I to call you: 'Mrs?' or 'My Lady'?" + +"Call me your own. What is there to laugh at, Jemmy? You used to +be fond of me; you would never have gone to America, when I +married Westerfield, if I hadn't been dear to you. Oh, if I'm +sure of anything, I'm sure of that! You wouldn't bear malice, +dear, if you only knew how cruelly I have been disappointed." + +He suddenly showed an interest in what she was saying: the brute +became cheery and confidential. "So he made you a bad husband, +did he? Up with his fist and knocked you down, I daresay, if the +truth was known?" + +"You're all in the wrong, dear. He would have been a good husband +if I had cared about him. I never cared about anybody but you. It +wasn't Westerfield who tempted me to say Yes." + +"That's a lie." + +"No, indeed it isn't." + +"Then why did you marry him?" + +"When I married him, Jemmy, there was a prospect--oh, how could I +resist it? Think of being one of the Le Basques! Held in honor, +to the end of my life, by that noble family, whether my husband +lived or died!" + +To the barman's ears, this sounded like sheer nonsense. His +experience in the public-house suggested an explanation. "I say, +my girl, have you been drinking?" + +Mrs. Westerfield's first impulse led her to rise and point +indignantly to the door. He had only to look at her--and she sat +down again a tamed woman. "You don't understand how the chance +tempted me," she answered, gently. + +"What chance do you mean?" + +"The chance, dear, of being a lord's mother." + +He was still puzzled, but he lowered his tone. The true-born +Briton bowed by instinct before the woman who had jilted him, +when she presented herself in the character of a lord's mother. +"How do you make that out, Maria?" he asked politely. + +She drew her chair nearer to him, when he called her by her +Christian name for the first time. + +"When Westerfield was courting me," she said, "his brother (my +lord) was a bachelor. A lady--if one can call such a creature a +lady!--was living under his protection. He told Westerfield he +was very fond of her, and he hated the idea of getting married. +'If your wife's first child turns out to be a son,' he said, +'there is an heir to the title and estates, and I may go on as I +am now.' We were married a month afterward--and when my first +child was born it was a girl. I leave you to judge what the +disappointment was! My lord (persuaded, as I suspect, by the +woman I mentioned just now) ran the risk of waiting another year, +and a year afterward, rather than be married. Through all that +time, I had no other child or prospect of a child. His lordship +was fairly driven into taking a wife. Ah, how I hate her! _Their_ +first child was a boy--a big, bouncing, healthy brute of a boy! +And six months afterward, my poor little fellow was born. Only +think of it! And tell me, Jemmy, don't I deserve to be a happy +woman, after suffering such a dreadful disappointment as that? Is +it true that you're going back to America?" + +"Quite true." + +"Take me back with you." + +"With a couple of children?" + +"No. Only with one. I can dispose of the other in England. Wait a +little before you say No. Do you want money?" + +"You couldn't help me, if I did." + +"Marry me, and I can help you to a fortune." + +He eyed her attentively and saw that she was in earnest. "What do +you call a fortune?" he asked. + +"Five thousand pounds," she answered. + +His eyes opened; his mouth opened; he scratched his head. Even +his impenetrable nature proved to be capable of receiving a +shock. Five thousand pounds! He asked faintly for "a drop of +brandy." + +She had a bottle of brandy ready for him. + +"You look quite overcome," she said. + +He was too deeply interested in the restorative influence of the +brandy to take any notice of this remark. When he had recovered +himself he was not disposed to believe in the five thousand +pounds. + +"Where's the proof of it?" he said, sternly. + +She produced her husband's letter. "Did you read the Trial of +Westerfield for casting away his ship?" she asked. + +"I heard of it." + +"Will you look at this letter?" + +"Is it long?" + +"Yes." + +"Then suppose you read it to me." + +He listened with the closest attention while she read. The +question of stealing the diamonds (if they could only be found) +did not trouble either of them. It was a settled question, by +tacit consent on both sides. But the value in money of the +precious stones suggested a doubt that still weighed on his mind. + +"How do you know they're worth five thousand pounds?" he +inquired. + +"You dear old stupid! Doesn't Westerfield himself say so in his +letter?" + +"Read that bit again." + +She read it again: "After the two calamities of the loss of the +ship, and the disappearance of the diamonds--these last being +valued at five thousand pounds--I returned to England." + +Satisfied so far, he wanted to look at the cipher next. She +handed it to him with a stipulation: "Yours, Jemmy, on the day +when you marry me." + +He put the slip of paper into his pocket. "Now I've got it," he +said, "suppose I keep it?" + +A woman who has been barmaid at a public-house is a woman not +easily found at the end of her resources. + +"In that case," she curtly remarked, "I should first call in the +police, and then telegraph to my husband's employers in +Liverpool." + +He handed the cipher back. "I was joking," he said. + +"So was I," she answered. + +They looked at each other. They were made for each other--and +they both felt it. At the same time, James kept his own interests +steadily in view. He stated the obvious objection to the cipher. +Experts had already tried to interpret the signs, and had failed. + +"Quite true," she added, "but other people may succeed." + +"How are you to find them?" + +"Leave me to try. Will you give me a fortnight from to-day?" + +"All right. Anything else?" + +"One thing more. Get the marriage license at once." + +"Why?" + +"To show that you are in earnest." + +He burst out laughing. "It mightn't be much amiss," he said, "if +I took you back with me to America; you're the sort of woman we +want in our new saloon. I'll get the license. Good-night." + +As he rose to go, there was a soft knock at the door. A little +girl, in a shabby frock, ventured to show herself in the room. + +"What do you want here?" her mother asked sharply. + +Syd held out a small thin hand, with a letter in it, which +represented her only excuse. Mrs. Westerfield read the letter, +and crumpled it up in her pocket. "One of your secrets?" James +asked. "Anything about the diamonds, for instance?" + +"Wait till you are my husband," she said, "and then you may be as +inquisitive as you please." Her amiable sweetheart's guess had +actually hit the mark. During the year that had passed, she too +had tried her luck among the Experts, and had failed. Having +recently heard of a foreign interpreter of ciphers, she had +written to ask his terms. The reply (just received) not only +estimated his services at an extravagantly high rate, but asked +cautious questions which it was not convenient to answer. Another +attempt had been made to discover the mystery of the cipher, and +made in vain. + +James Bellbridge had his moments of good-humor, and was on those +rare occasions easily amused. He eyed the child with +condescending curiosity. "Looks half starved," he said--as if he +were considering the case of a stray cat. "Hollo, there! Buy a +bit of bread." He tossed a penny to Syd as she left the room; and +took the opportunity of binding his bargain with Syd's mother. +"Mind! if I take you to New York, I'm not going to be burdened +with both your children. Is that girl the one you leave behind +you?" + +Mrs. Westerfield smiled sweetly, and answered: "Yes, dear." + +7.--The Cipher. + +An advertisement in the newspapers, addressed to persons skilled +in the interpretation of ciphers, now represented Mrs. +Westerfield's only chance of discovering where the diamonds were +hidden. The first answer that she received made some amends for +previous disappointment. It offered references to gentlemen, +whose names were in themselves a sufficient guarantee. She +verified the references nevertheless, and paid a visit to her +correspondent on the same day. + +His personal appearance was not in his favor--he was old and +dirty, infirm and poor. His mean room was littered with shabby +books. None of the ordinary courtesies of life seemed to be known +to him; he neither wished Mrs. Westerfield good-morning nor asked +her to take a seat. When she attempted to enter into explanations +relating to her errand, he rudely interrupted her. + +"Show me your cipher," he said; "I don't promise to study it +unless I find it worth my while." + +Mrs. Westerfield was alarmed. + +"Do you mean that you want a large sum of money?" she asked. + +"I mean that I don't waste my time on easy ciphers invented by +fools." + +She laid the slip of paper on his desk. + +"Waste your time on _that_," she said satirically, "and see how +you like it!" + +He examined it--first with his bleared red-rimmed eyes; then with +a magnifying-glass. The only expression of opinion that escaped +him was indicated by his actions. He shut up his book, and +gloated over the signs and characters before him. On a sudden he +looked at Mrs. Westerfield. "How did you come by this?" he asked. + +"That's no business of yours." + +"In other words, you have reasons of your own for not answering +my question?" + +"Yes." + +Drawing his own inferences from that reply, he showed his three +last-left yellow teeth in a horrid grin. "I understand!" he said, +speaking to himself. He looked at the cipher once more, and put +another question: "Have you got a copy of this?" + +It had not occurred to her to take a copy. He rose and pointed to +his empty chair. His opinion of the cipher was, to all +appearance, forced to express itself by the discovery that there +was no copy. + +"Do you know what might happen?" he asked. "The only cipher that +has puzzled me for the last ten years might be lost--or +stolen--or burned if there was a fire in the house. You deserve +to be punished for your carelessness. Make the copy yourself." + +This desirable suggestion (uncivilly as it was expressed) had its +effect upon Mrs. Westerfield. Her marriage depended on that +precious slip of paper. She was confirmed in her opinion that +this very disagreeable man might nevertheless be a man to be +trusted. + +"Shall you be long in finding out what it means?" she asked when +her task was completed. + +He carefully compared the copy with the original--and then he +replied: + +"Days may pass before I can find the clew; I won't attempt it +unless you give me a week." + +She pleaded for a shorter interval. He coolly handed back her +papers; the original and the copy. + +"Try somebody else," he suggested--and opened his book again. +Mrs. Westerfield yielded with the worst possible grace. In +granting him the week of delay, she approached the subject of his +fee for the second time. "How much will it cost me?" she +inquired. + +"I'll tell you when I've done." + +"That won't do! I must know the amount first." + +He handed her back her papers for the second time. Mrs. +Westerfield's experience of poverty had never been the experience +of such independence as this. In sheer bewilderment, she yielded +again. He took back the original cipher, and locked it up in his +desk. "Call here this day week," he said--and returned to his +book. + +"You are not very polite," she told him, on leaving the room. + +"At any rate," he answered, "I don't interrupt people when they +are reading." + +The week passed. + +Repeating her visit, Mrs. Westerfield found him still seated at +his desk, still surrounded by his books, still careless of the +polite attentions that he owed to a lady. + +"Well?" she asked, "have you earned your money?" + +"I have found the clew." + +"What is it?" she burst out. "Tell me the substance. I can't wait +to read." + +He went on impenetrably with what he had to say. "But there are +some minor combinations, which I have still to discover to my own +satisfaction. I want a few days more." + +She positively refused to comply with this request. "Write down +the substance of it," she repeated, "and tell me what I owe you." + +He handed her back her cipher for the third time. + +The woman who could have kept her temper, under such provocation +as this, may be found when the mathematician is found who can +square the circle, or the inventor who can discover perpetual +motion. With a furious look, Mrs. Westerfield expressed her +opinion of the philosopher in two words: "You brute!" She failed +to produce the slightest impression on him. + +"My work," he proceeded, "must be well done or not done at all. +This is Saturday, eleventh of the month. We will say the evening +of Wednesday next." + +Mrs. Westerfield sufficiently controlled herself to be able to +review her engagements for the coming week. On Thursday, the +delay exacted by the marriage license would expire, and the +wedding might take place. On Friday, the express train conveyed +passengers to Liverpool, to be in time for the departure of the +steamer for New York on Saturday morning. Having made these +calculations, she asked, with sulky submission, if she was +expected to call again on the Wednesday evening. + +"No. Leave me your name and address. I will send you the cipher, +interpreted, at eight o'clock." + +Mrs. Westerfield laid one of her visiting cards on his desk, and +left him. + +8.--The Diamonds. + +The new week was essentially a week of events. + +On the Monday morning, Mrs. Westerfield and her faithful James +had their first quarrel. She took the liberty of reminding him +that it was time to give notice of the marriage at the church, +and to secure berths in the steamer for herself and her son. +Instead of answering one way or another, James asked how the +Expert was getting on. + +"Has your old man found out where the diamonds are?" + +"Not yet." + +"Then we'll wait till he does." + +"Do you believe my word?" Mrs. Westerfield asked curtly. + +James Bellbridge answered, with Roman brevity, "No." + +This was an insult; Mrs. Westerfield expressed her sense of it. +She rose, and pointed to the door. "Go back to America, as soon +as you please," she said; "and find the money you want--if you +can." + +As a proof that she was in earnest she took her copy of the +cipher out of the bosom of her dress, and threw it into the fire. +"The original is safe in my old man's keeping," she added. "Leave +the room." + +James rose with suspicious docility, and walked out, having his +own private ends in view. + +Half an hour later, Mrs. Westerfield's old man was interrupted +over his work by a person of bulky and blackguard appearance, +whom he had never seen before. + +The stranger introduced himself as a gentleman who was engaged to +marry Mrs. Westerfield: he requested (not at all politely) to be +permitted to look at the cipher. He was asked if he had brought a +written order to that effect, signed by the lady herself. Mr. +Bellbridge, resting his fists on the writing-table, answered that +he had come to look at the cipher on his own sole responsibility, +and that he insisted on seeing it immediately. "Allow me to show +you something else first," was the reply he received to this +assertion of his will and pleasure. "Do you know a loaded pistol, +sir, when you see it?" The barrel of the pistol approached within +three inches of the barman's big head as he leaned over the +writing-table. For once in his life he was taken by surprise. It +had never occurred to him that a professed interpreter of ciphers +might sometimes be trusted with secrets which placed him in a +position of danger, and might therefore have wisely taken +measures to protect himself. No power of persuasion is comparable +to the power possessed by a loaded pistol. James left the room; +and expressed his sentiments in language which has not yet found +its way into any English Dictionary. + +But he had two merits, when his temper was in a state of repose. +He knew when he was beaten; and he thoroughly appreciated the +value of the diamonds. When Mrs. Westerfield saw him again, on +the next day, he appeared with undeniable claims on her mercy. +Notice of the marriage had been received at the church; and a +cabin had been secured for her on board the steamer. + +Her prospects being thus settled, to her own satisfaction, Mrs. +Westerfield was at liberty to make her arrangements for the +desertion of poor little Syd. + +The person on whose assistance she could rely was an unmarried +elder sister, distinguished as proprietor of a cheap girls' +school in one of the suburbs of London. This lady--known to local +fame as Miss Wigger--had already proposed to take Syd into +training as a pupil teacher. "I'll force the child on," Miss +Wigger promised, "till she can earn her board and lodging by +taking my lowest class. When she gets older she will replace my +regular governess, and I shall save the salary." + +With this proposal waiting for a reply, Mrs. Westerfield had only +to inform her sister that it was accepted. "Come here," she +wrote, "on Friday next, at any time before two o'clock, and Syd +shall be ready for you. P.S.--I am to be married again on +Thursday, and start for America with my husband and my boy by +next Saturday's steamer." + +The letter was posted; and the mother's anxious mind was, to use +her own phrase, relieved of another worry. + +As the hour of eight drew near on Wednesday evening, Mrs. +Westerfield's anxiety forced her to find relief in action of some +kind. She opened the door of her sitting-room and listened on the +stairs. It still wanted for a few minutes to eight o'clock, when +there was a ring at the house-bell. She ran down to open the +door. The servant happened to be in the hall, and answered the +bell. The next moment, the door was suddenly closed again. + +"Anybody there?" Mrs. Westerfield asked. + +"No, ma'am." + +This seemed strange. Had the old wretch deceived her, after all? +"Look in the letter-box," she called out. The servant obeyed, and +found a letter. Mrs. Westerfield tore it open, standing on the +stairs. It contained half a sheet of common note-paper. The +interpretation of the cipher was written on it in these words: + +"Remember Number 12, Purbeck Road, St. John's Wood. Go to the +summer-house in the back garden. Count to the fourth plank in the +floor, reckoning from the side wall on the right as you enter the +summer-house. Prize up the plank. Look under the mould and +rubbish. Find the diamonds." + +Not a word of explanation accompanied these lines. Neither had +the original cipher been returned. The strange old man had earned +his money, and had not attended to receive it--had not even sent +word where or how it might be paid! Had he delivered his letter +himself? He (or his messenger) had gone before the house-door +could be opened! + +A sudden suspicion of him turned her cold. Had he stolen the +diamonds? She was on the point of sending for a cab, and driving +it to his lodgings, when James came in, eager to know if the +interpretation had arrived. + +Keeping her suspicions to herself, she merely informed him that +the interpretation was in her hands. He at once asked to see it. +She refused to show it to him until he had made her his wife. +"Put a chisel in your pocket, when we go to church, to-morrow +morning," was the one hint she gave him. As thoroughly worthy of +each other as ever, the betrothed lovers distrusted each other to +the last. + +At eleven o'clock the next morning they were united in the bonds +of wedlock; the landlord and the landlady of the public-house in +which they had both served being the only witnesses present. The +children were not permitted to see the ceremony. On leaving the +church door, the married pair began their honeymoon by driving to +St. John's Wood. + +A dirty printed notice, in a broken window, announced that the +House was To Let; and a sour-tempered woman informed them that +they were free to look at the rooms. + +The bride was in the best of humors. She set the bridegroom the +example of keeping up appearances by examining the dilapidated +house first. This done, she said sweetly to the person in charge, +"May we look at the garden?" + +The woman made a strange answer to this request. "That's +curious," she said. + +James interfered for the first time. "What's curious?" he asked +roughly. + +"Among all the idle people who have come here, at one time or +another, to see this house." the woman said, "only two have +wanted to look at the garden." + +James turned on his heel, and made for the summer-house, leaving +it to his wife to pursue the subject or not as she pleased. She +did pursue the subject. + +"I am one of the persons, of course," she said. "Who is the +other?" + +"An old man came on Monday." + +The bride's pleasant smile vanished. + +"What sort of person was he?" she asked. + +The sour-tempered woman became sourer than ever. + +"Oh, how can I tell! A brute. There!" + +"A brute!" The very words which the new Mrs. Bellbridge had +herself used when the Expert had irritated her. With serious +misgivings, she, too, turned her steps in the direction of the +garden. + +James had already followed her instructions and used his chisel. +The plank lay loose on the floor. With both his big hands he +rapidly cleared away the mould and the rubbish. In a few minutes +the hiding-place was laid bare. + +They looked into it. They looked at each other. There was the +empty hole, telling its own story. The diamonds were gone. + + +9.--The Mother. + + +Mrs. Bellbridge eyed her husband, prepared for a furious outbreak +of rage. He stood silent, staring stupidly straight before him. +The shock that had fallen on his dull brain had stunned it. For +the time, he was a big idiot--speechless, harmless, helpless. + +She put back the rubbish, and replaced the plank, and picked up +the chisel. "Come, James," she said; "pull yourself together." It +was useless to speak to him. She took his arm and led him out to +the cab that was waiting at the door. + +The driver, helping him to get in, noticed a piece of paper lying +on the front seat. Advertisements, seeking publicity under all +possible circumstances, are occasionally sent flying into the +open windows of vehicles. The driver was about to throw the paper +away, when Mrs. Bellbridge (seeing it on the other side) took it +out of his hand. "It isn't print," she said; "it's writing." A +closer examination showed that the writing was addressed to +herself. Her correspondent must have followed her to the church, +as well as to the house in St. John's Wood. He distinguished her +by the name which she had changed that morning, under the +sanction of the clergy and the law. + +This was what she read: "Don't trouble yourself, madam, about the +diamonds. You have made a mistake--you have employed the wrong +man." + +Those words--and no more. Enough, surely, to justify the +conclusion that he had stolen the diamonds. Was it worth while to +drive to his lodgings? They tried the experiment. The Expert had +gone away on business--nobody knew where. + +The newspaper came as usual on Friday morning. To Mrs. +Bellbridge's amazement it set the question of the theft at rest, +on the highest authority. An article appeared, in a conspicuous +position, thus expressed: + +"Another of the many proofs that truth is stranger than fiction +has just occurred at Liverpool. A highly respected firm of +shipwreckers in that city received a strange letter at the +beginning of the present week. Premising that he had some +remarkable circumstances to communicate, the writer of the letter +entered abruptly on the narrative which follows: A friend of +his--connected with literature--had, it appeared, noticed a +lady's visiting card on his desk, and had been reminded by it (in +what way it was not necessary to explain) of a criminal case +which had excited considerable public interest at the time; viz., +the trial of Captain Westerfield for willfully casting away a +ship under his command. Never having heard of the trial, the +writer, at his friend's suggestion, consulted a file of +newspapers--discovered the report--and became aware, for the +first time, that a collection of Brazilian diamonds, consigned to +the Liverpool firm, was missing from the wrecked vessel when she +had been boarded by the salvage party, and had not been found +since. Events, which it was impossible for him to mention (seeing +that doing so would involve a breach of confidence placed in him +in his professional capacity), had revealed to his knowledge a +hiding-place in which these same diamonds, in all probability, +were concealed. This circumstance had left him no alternative, as +an honest man, but to be beforehand with the persons, who (as he +believed) contemplated stealing the precious stones. He had, +accordingly, taken them under his protection, until they were +identified and claimed by the rightful owners. In now appealing +to these gentlemen, he stipulated that the claim should be set +forth in writing, addressed to him under initials at a +post-office in London. If the lost property was identified to his +satisfaction, he would meet--at a specified place and on a +certain day and hour--a person accredited by the firm and would +personally restore the diamonds, without claiming (or consenting +to receive) a reward. The conditions being complied with, this +remarkable interview took place; the writer of the letter, +described as an infirm old man very poorly dressed, fulfilled his +engagement, took his receipt, and walked away without even +waiting to be thanked. It is only an act of justice to add that +the diamonds were afterward counted, and not one of them was +missing." + +Miserable, deservedly-miserable married pair. The stolen fortune, +on which they had counted, had slipped through their fingers. The +berths in the steamer for New York had been taken and paid for. +James had married a woman with nothing besides herself to bestow +on him, except an incumbrance in the shape of a boy. + +Late on the fatal wedding-day his first idea, when he was himself +again after the discovery in the summer-house, was to get back +his passage-money, to abandon his wife and his stepson, and to +escape to America in a French steamer. He went to the office of +the English company, and offered the places which he had taken +for sale. The season of the year was against him; the +passenger-traffic to America was at its lowest ebb, and profits +depended upon freights alone. + +If he still contemplated deserting his wife, he must also submit +to sacrifice his money. The other alternative was (as he +expressed it himself) to "have his pennyworth for his penny, and +to turn his family to good account in New York." He had not quite +decided what to do when he got home again on the evening of his +marriage. + +At that critical moment in her life the bride was equal to the +demand on her resources. + +If she was foolish enough to allow James to act on his natural +impulses, there were probably two prospects before her. In one +state of his temper, he might knock her down. In another state of +his temper, he might leave her behind him. Her only hope of +protecting herself, in either case, was to tame the bridegroom. +In his absence, she wisely armed herself with the most +irresistible fascinations of her sex. Never yet had he seen her +dressed as she was dressed when he came home. Never yet had her +magnificent eyes looked at him as they looked now. Emotions for +which he was not prepared overcame this much injured man; he +stared at the bride in helpless surprise. That inestimable moment +of weakness was all Mrs. Bellbridge asked for. Bewildered by his +own transformation, James found himself reading the newspaper the +next morning sentimentally, with his arm round his wife's waist. + + + +By a refinement of cruelty, not one word had been said to prepare +little Syd for the dreary change that was now close at hand in +her young life. The poor child had seen the preparations for +departure, and had tried to imitate her mother in packing up. She +had collected her few morsels of darned and ragged clothing, and +had gone upstairs to put them into one of the dilapidated old +trunks in the garret play ground, when the servant was sent to +bring her back to the sitting-room. There, enthroned in an +easy-chair, sat a strange lady; and there, hiding behind the +chair in undisguised dislike of the visitor, was her little +brother Roderick. Syd looked timidly at her mother; and her +mother said: + +"Here is your aunt." + +The personal appearance of Miss Wigger might have suggested a +modest distrust of his own abilities to Lavater, when that +self-sufficient man wrote his famous work on Physiognomy. +Whatever betrayal of her inner self her face might have +presented, in the distant time when she was young, was now +completely overlaid by a surface of a flabby fat which, assisted +by green spectacles, kept the virtues (or vices) of this woman's +nature a profound secret until she opened her lips. When she used +her voice, she let out the truth. Nobody could hear her speak, +and doubt for a moment that she was an inveterately ill-natured +woman. + +"Make your curtsey, child!" said Miss Wigger. Nature had so toned +her voice as to make it worthy of the terrors of her face. But +for her petticoats, it would have been certainly taken for the +voice of a man. + +The child obeyed, trembling. + +"You are to go away with me," the school-mistress proceeded, "and +to be taught to make yourself useful under my roof." + +Syd seemed to be incapable of understanding the fate that was in +store for her. She sheltered herself behind her merciless mother. +"I'm going away with you, mamma," she said--"with you and Rick." + +Her mother took her by the shoulders, and pushed her across the +room to her aunt. + +The child looked at the formidable female creature with the man's +voice and the green spectacles. + +"You belong to me," said Miss Wigger, by way of encouragement, +"and I have come to take you away." At those dreadful words, +terror shook little Syd from head to foot. She fell on her knees +with a cry of misery that might have melted the heart of a +savage. "Oh, mamma, mamma, don't leave me behind! What have I +done to deserve it? Oh, pray, pray, pray have some pity on me!" + +Her mother was as selfish and as cruel a woman as ever lived. But +even her hard heart felt faintly the influence of the most +intimate and most sacred of all human relationships. Her florid +cheeks turned pale. She hesitated. + +Miss Wigger marked (through her own green medium) that moment of +maternal indecision--and saw that it was time to assert her +experience as an instructress of youth. + +"Leave it to me," she said to her sister. "You never did know, +and you never will know, how to manage children." + +She advanced. The child threw herself shrieking on the floor. +Miss Wigger's long arms caught her up--held her--shook her. "Be +quiet, you imp!" It was needless to tell her to be quiet. Syd's +little curly head sank on the schoolmistress's shoulder. She was +carried into exile without a word or a cry--she had fainted. + + +10.--The School. + +Time's march moves slowly, where weary lives languish in dull +places. + +Dating from one unkempt and unacknowledged birthday to another, +Sydney Westerfield had attained the sixth year of her martyrdom +at School. In that long interval no news of her mother, her +brother, or her stepfather had reached England; she had received +no letter, she had not even heard a report. Without friends, and +without prospects, Roderick Westerfield's daughter was, in the +saddest sense of the word, alone in the world. + + + +The hands of the ugly old clock in the school-room were +approaching the time when the studies of the morning would come +to an end. Wearily waiting for their release, the scholars saw an +event happen which was a novelty in their domestic experience. +The maid-of-all-work audaciously put her head in at the door, and +interrupted Miss Wigger conducting the education of the +first-class. + +"If you please, miss, there's a gentleman--" + +Having uttered these introductory words, she was reduced to +silence by the tremendous voice of her mistress. + +"Haven't I forbidden you to come here in school hours? Go away +directly!" + +Hardened by a life of drudgery, under conditions of perpetual +scolding, the servant stood her ground, and recovered the use of +her tongue. + +"There's a gentleman in the drawing-room," she persisted. Miss +Wigger tried to interrupt her again. "And here's his card!" she +shouted, in a voice that was the louder of the two. + +Being a mortal creature, the schoolmistress was accessible to the +promptings of curiosity. She snatched the card out of the girl's +hand. + +_Mr. Herbert Linley, Mount Morven, Perthshire._ "I don't know +this person," Miss Wigger declared. "You wretch, have you let a +thief into the house?" + +"A gentleman, if ever I see one yet," the servant asserted. + +"Hold your tongue! Did he ask for me? Do you hear?" + +"You told me to hold my tongue. No; he didn't ask for you." + +"Then who did he want to see?" + +"It's on his card." + +Miss Wigger referred to the card again, and discovered (faintly +traced in pencil) these words: "To see Miss S.W." + +The schoolmistress instantly looked at Miss Westerfield. Miss +Westerfield rose from her place at the head of her class. + +The pupils, astonished at this daring act, all looked at the +teacher--their natural enemy, appointed to supply them with +undesired information derived from hated books. They saw one of +Mother Nature's favorite daughters; designed to be the darling of +her family, and the conqueror of hearts among men of all tastes +and ages. But Sydney Westerfield had lived for six weary years in +the place of earthly torment, kept by Miss Wigger under the name +of a school. Every budding beauty, except the unassailable beauty +of her eyes and her hair, had been nipped under the frosty +superintendence of her maternal aunt. Her cheeks were hollow, her +delicate lips were pale; her shabby dress lay flat over her +bosom. Observant people, meeting her when she was out walking +with the girls, were struck by her darkly gentle eyes, and by the +patient sadness of her expression. "What a pity!" they said to +each other. "She would be a pretty girl, if she didn't look so +wretched and so thin." + +At a loss to understand the audacity of her teacher in rising +before the class was dismissed, Miss Wigger began by asserting +her authority. She did in two words: "Sit down!" + +"I wish to explain, ma'am." + +"Sit down." + +"I beg, Miss Wigger, that you will allow me to explain." + +"Sydney Westerfield, you are setting the worst possible example +to your class. I shall see this man myself. _Will_ you sit down?" + +Pale already, Sydney turned paler still. She obeyed the word of +command--to the delight of the girls of her class. It was then +within ten minutes of the half hour after twelve--when the pupils +were dismissed to the playground while the cloth was laid for dinner. +What use would the teacher make of that half hour of freedom? + +In the meanwhile Miss Wigger had entered her drawing-room. With +the slightest possible inclination of her head, she eyed the +stranger through her green spectacles. Even under that +disadvantage his appearance spoke for itself. The servant's +estimate of him was beyond dispute. Mr. Herbert Linley's good +breeding was even capable of suppressing all outward expression +of the dismay that he felt, on finding himself face to face with +the formidable person who had received him. + +"What is your business, if you please?" Miss Wigger began. + +Men, animals, and buildings wear out with years, and submit to +their hard lot. Time only meets with flat contradiction when he +ventures to tell a woman that she is growing old. Herbert Linley +had rashly anticipated that the "young lady," whom it was the +object of his visit to see, would prove to be young in the +literal sense of the word. When he and Miss Wigger stood face to +face, if the door had been set open for him, he would have left +the house with the greatest pleasure. + +"I have taken the liberty of calling," he said, "in answer to an +advertisement. May I ask"--he paused, and took out a newspaper +from the pocket of his overcoat--"If I have the honor of speaking +to the lady who is mentioned here?" + +He opened the newspaper, and pointed to the advertisement. + +Miss Wigger's eyes rested--not on the passage indicated, but on +the visitor's glove. It fitted him to such perfection that it +suggested the enviable position in life which has gloves made to +order. He politely pointed again. Still inaccessible to the +newspaper, Miss Wigger turned her spectacles next to the front +window of the room, and discovered a handsome carriage waiting at +the door. (Money evidently in the pockets of those beautiful +trousers, worthy of the gloves!) As patiently as ever, Linley +pointed for the third time, and drew Miss Wigger's attention in +the right direction at last. She read the advertisement. + + +"A Young Lady wishes to be employed in the education of a little +girl. Possessing but few accomplishments, and having been only a +junior teacher at a school, she offers her services on trial, +leaving it to her employer to pay whatever salary she may be +considered to deserve, if she obtains a permanent engagement. +Apply by letter, to S.W., 14, Delta Gardens, N.E." + +"Most impertinent," said Miss Wigger. + +Mr. Linley looked astonished. + +"I say, most impertinent!" Miss Wigger repeated. + +Mr. Linley attempted to pacify this terrible woman. "It's very +stupid of me," he said; "I am afraid I don't quite understand +you." + +"One of my teachers has issued an advertisement, and has referred +to My address, without first consulting Me. Have I made myself +understood, sir?" She looked at the carriage again, when she +called him "sir." + +Not even Linley's capacity for self-restraint could repress the +expression of relief, visible in his brightening face, when he +discovered that the lady of the advertisement and the lady who +terrified him were two different persons. + +"Have I made myself understood?" Miss Wigger repeated. + +"Perfectly, madam. At the same time, I am afraid I must own that +the advertisement has produced a favorable impression on me." + +"I fail entirely to see why," Miss Wigger remarked. + +"There is surely," Linley repeated, "something straightforward--I +might almost say, something innocent--in the manner in which the +writer expresses herself. She seems to be singularly modest on +the subject of her own attainments, and unusually considerate of +the interests of others. I hope you will permit me--?" + +Before he could add, "to see the young lady," the door was +opened: a young lady entered the room. + +Was she the writer of the advertisement? He felt sure of it, for +no better reason than this: the moment he looked at her she +interested him. It was an interest new to Linley, in his +experience of himself There was nothing to appeal to his +admiration (by way of his senses) in the pale, worn young +creature who stood near the door, resigned beforehand to whatever +reception she might meet with. The poor teacher made him think of +his happy young wife at home--of his pretty little girl, the +spoiled child of the household. He looked at Sydney Westerfield +with a heartfelt compassion which did honor to them both. + +"What do you mean by coming here?" Miss Wigger inquired. + +She answered gently, but not timidly. The tone in which the +mistress had spoken had evidently not shaken her resolution, so +far. + +"I wish to know," she said, "if this gentleman desires to see me +on the subject of my advertisement?" + +"Your advertisement?" Miss Wigger repeated. "Miss Westerfield! +how dare you beg for employment in a newspaper, without asking my +leave?" + +"I only waited to tell you what I had done, till I knew whether +my advertisement would be answered or not." + +She spoke as calmly as before, still submitting to the insolent +authority of the schoolmistress with a steady fortitude very +remarkable in any girl--and especially in a girl whose face +revealed a sensitive nature. Linley approached her, and said his +few kind words before Miss Wigger could assert herself for the +third time. + +"I am afraid I have taken a liberty in answering you personally, +when I ought to have answered by letter. My only excuse is that I +have no time to arrange for an interview, in London, by +correspondence. I live in Scotland, and I am obliged to return by +the mail to-night." + +He paused. She was looking at him. Did she understand him? + +She understood him only too well. For the first time, poor soul, +in the miserable years of her school life, she saw eyes that +rested on her with the sympathy that is too truly felt to be +uttered in words. The admirable resignation which had learned its +first hard lesson under her mother's neglect--which had endured, +in after-years, the daily persecution that heartless +companionship so well knows how to inflict--failed to sustain +her, when one kind look from a stranger poured its balm into the +girl's sore heart. Her head sank; her wasted figure trembled; a +few tears dropped slowly on the bosom of her shabby dress. She +tried, desperately tried, to control herself. "I beg your pardon, +sir," was all she could say; "I am not very well." + +Miss Wigger tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the door. +"Are you well enough to see your way out?" she asked. + +Linley turned on the wretch with a mind divided between wonder +and disgust. "Good God, what has she done to deserve being +treated in that way?" he asked. + +Miss Wigger's mouth widened; Miss Wigger's forehead developed new +wrinkles. To own it plainly, the schoolmistress smiled. + +When it is of serious importance to a man to become acquainted +with a woman's true nature--say, when he contemplates +marriage--his one poor chance of arriving at a right conclusion +is to find himself provoked by exasperating circumstances, and to +fly into a passion. If the lady flies into a passion on her side, +he may rely on it that her faults are more than balanced by her +good qualities. If, on the other hand, she exhibits the most +admirable self-control, and sets him an example which ought to +make him ashamed of himself, he has seen a bad sign, and he will +do well to remember it. + +Miss Wigger's self-control put Herbert Linley in the wrong, +before she took the trouble of noticing what he had said. + +"If you were not out of temper," she replied, "I might have told +you that I don't allow my house to be made an office for the +engagement of governesses. As it is, I merely remind you that +your carriage is at the door." + +He took the only course that was open to him; he took his hat. + +Sydney turned away to leave the room. Linley opened the door for +her. "Don't be discouraged," he whispered as she passed him; "you +shall hear from me." Having said this, he made his parting bow to +the schoolmistress. Miss Wigger held up a peremptory forefinger, +and stopped him on his way out. He waited, wondering what she +would do next. She rang the bell. + +"You are in the house of a gentlewoman," Miss Wigger explained. +"My servant attends visitors, when they leave me." A faint smell +of soap made itself felt in the room; the maid appeared, wiping +her smoking arms on her apron. "Door. I wish you +good-morning"--were the last words of Miss Wigger. + + +Leaving the house, Linley slipped a bribe into the servant's +hand. "I am going to write to Miss Westerfield," he said. "Will +you see that she gets my letter?" + +"That I will!" + +He was surprised by the fervor with which the girl answered him. +Absolutely without vanity, he had no suspicion of the value which +his winning manner, his kind brown eyes, and his sunny smile had +conferred on his little gift of money. A handsome man was an +eighth wonder of the world, at Miss Wigger's school. + +At the first stationer's shop that he passed, he stopped the +carriage and wrote his letter. + +"I shall be glad indeed if I can offer you a happier life than +the life you are leading now. It rests with you to help me do +this. Will you send me the address of your parents, if they are +in London, or the name of any friend with whom I can arrange to +give you a trial as governess to my little girl? I am waiting +your answer in the neighborhood. If any hinderance should prevent +you from replying at once, I add the name of the hotel at which I +am staying--so that you may telegraph to me, before I leave +London to-night." + +The stationer's boy, inspired by a private view of half-a-crown, +set off at a run--and returned at a run with a reply. + +"I have neither parents nor friends, and I have just been +dismissed from my employment at the school. Without references to +speak for me, I must not take advantage of your generous offer. +Will you help me to bear my disappointment, permitting me to see +you, for a few minutes only, at your hotel? Indeed, indeed, sir, +I am not forgetful of what I owe to my respect for you, and my +respect for myself. I only ask leave to satisfy you that I am not +quite unworthy of the interest which you have been pleased to +feel in--S.W." + +In those sad words, Sydney Westerfield announced that she had +completed her education. + + +THE STORY + + +FIRST BOOK. + + +Chapter I. + + +Mrs. Presty Presents Herself. + +NOT far from the source of the famous river, which rises in the +mountains between Loch Katrine and Loch Lornond, and divides the +Highlands and the Lowlands of Scotland, travelers arrive at the +venerable gray walls of Mount Morven; and, after consulting their +guide books, ask permission to see the house. + +What would be called, in a modern place of residence, the first +floor, is reserved for the occupation of the family. The great +hall of entrance, and its quaint old fireplace; the ancient rooms +on the same level opening out of it, are freely shown to +strangers. Cultivated travelers express various opinions relating +to the family portraits, and the elaborately carved ceilings. The +uninstructed public declines to trouble itself with criticism. It +looks up at the towers and the loopholes, the battlements and the +rusty old guns, which still bear witness to the perils of past +times when the place was a fortress--it enters the gloomy hall, +walks through the stone-paved rooms, stares at the faded +pictures, and wonders at the lofty chimney-pieces hopelessly out +of reach. Sometimes it sits on chairs which are as cold and as +hard as iron, or timidly feels the legs of immovable tables which +might be legs of elephants so far as size is concerned. When +these marvels have been duly admired, and the guide books are +shut up, the emancipated tourists, emerging into the light and +air, all find the same social problem presented by a visit to +Mount Morven: "How can the family live in such a place as that?" + +If these strangers on their travels had been permitted to ascend +to the first floor, and had been invited (for example) to say +good-night to Mrs. Linley's pretty little daughter, they would +have seen the stone walls of Kitty's bed-chamber snugly covered +with velvet hangings which kept out the cold; they would have +trod on a doubly-laid carpet, which set the chilly influences of +the pavement beneath it at defiance; they would have looked at a +bright little bed, of the last new pattern, worthy of a child's +delicious sleep; and they would only have discovered that the +room was three hundred years old when they had drawn aside the +window curtains, and had revealed the adamantine solidity of the +outer walls. Or, if they had been allowed to pursue their +investigations a little further, and had found their way next +into Mrs. Linley's sitting room, here again a transformation +scene would have revealed more modern luxury, presented in the +perfection which implies restraint within the limits of good +taste. But on this occasion, instead of seeing the head of a +lively little child on the pillow, side by side with the head of +her doll, they would have encountered an elderly lady of +considerable size, fast asleep and snoring in a vast armchair, +with a book on her lap. The married men among the tourists would +have recognized a mother-in-law, and would have set an excellent +example to the rest; that is to say, the example of leaving the +room. + +The lady composed under the soporific influence of literature was +a person of importance in the house--holding rank as Mrs. +Linley's mother; and being otherwise noticeable for having +married two husbands, and survived them both. + +The first of these gentlemen--the Right Honorable Joseph +Norman--had been a member of Parliament, and had taken office +under Government. Mrs. Linley was his one surviving child. He +died at an advanced age; leaving his handsome widow (young +enough, as she was always ready to mention, to be his daughter) +well provided for, and an object of matrimonial aspiration to +single gentlemen who admired size in a woman, set off by money. +After hesitating for some little time, Mrs. Norman accepted the +proposal of the ugliest and dullest man among the ranks of her +admirers. Why she became the wife of Mr. Presty (known in +commercial circles as a merchant enriched by the sale of vinegar) +she was never able to explain. Why she lamented him, with tears +of sincere sorrow, when he died after two years of married life, +was a mystery which puzzled her nearest and dearest friends. And +why when she indulged (a little too frequently) in recollections +of her married life, she persisted in putting obscure Mr. Presty +on a level with distinguished Mr. Norman, was a secret which this +remarkable woman had never been known to reveal. Presented by +their widow with the strictest impartiality to the general view, +the characters of these two husbands combined, by force of +contrast, the ideal of manly perfection. That is to say, the +vices of Mr. Norman were the virtues of Mr. Presty; and the vices +of Mr. Presty were the virtues of Mr. Norman. + +Returning to the sitting-room after bidding Kitty goodnight, Mrs. +Linley discovered the old lady asleep, and saw that the book on +her mother's lap was sliding off. Before she could check the +downward movement, the book fell on the floor, and Mrs. Presty +woke. + +"Oh, mamma, I am so sorry! I was just too late to catch it." + +"It doesn't matter, my dear. I daresay I should go to sleep +again, if I went on with my novel." + +"Is it really as dull as that?" + +"Dull?" Mrs. Presty repeated. "You are evidently not aware of +what the new school of novel writing is doing. The new school +provides the public with soothing fiction." + +"Are you speaking seriously, mamma?" + +"Seriously, Catherine--and gratefully. These new writers are so +good to old women. No story to excite our poor nerves; no +improper characters to cheat us out of our sympathies, no +dramatic situations to frighten us; exquisite management of +details (as the reviews say), and a masterly anatomy of human +motives which--I know what I mean, my dear, but I can't explain +it." + +"I think I understand, mamma. A masterly anatomy of human motives +which is in itself a motive of human sleep. No; I won't borrow +your novel just now. I don't want to go to sleep; I am thinking +of Herbert in London." + +Mrs. Presty consulted her watch. + +"Your husband is no longer in London," she announced; "he has +begun his journey home. Give me the railway guide, and I'll tell +you when he will be here tomorrow. You may trust me, Catherine, +to make no mistakes. Mr. Presty's wonderful knowledge of figures +has been of the greatest use to me in later life. Thanks to his +instructions, I am the only person in the house who can grapple +with the intricacies of our railway system. Your poor father, Mr. +Norman, could never understand time-tables and never attempted to +conceal his deficiencies. He had none of the vanity (harmless +vanity, perhaps) which led poor Mr. Presty to express positive +opinions on matters of which he knew nothing, such as pictures +and music. What do you want, Malcolm?" + +The servant to whom this question was addressed answered: "A +telegram, ma'am, for the mistress." + +Mrs. Linley recoiled from the message when the man offered it to +her. Not usually a very demonstrative person, the feeling of +alarm which had seized on her only expressed itself in a sudden +change of color. "An accident!" she said faintly. "An accident on +the railway!" + +Mrs. Presty opened the telegram. + +"If you had been the wife of a Cabinet Minister," she said to her +daughter, "you would have been too well used to telegrams to let +them frighten you. Mr. Presty (who received his telegrams at his +office) was not quite just to the memory of my first husband. He +used to blame Mr. Norman for letting me see his telegrams. But +Mr. Presty's nature had all the poetry in which Mr. Norman's +nature was deficient. He saw the angelic side of women--and +thought telegrams and business, and all that sort of thing, +unworthy of our mission. I don't exactly understand what our +mission is--" + +"Mamma! mamma! is Herbert hurt?" + +"Stuff and nonsense! Nobody is hurt; there has been no accident." + +"They why does he telegraph to me?" + +Hitherto, Mrs. Presty had only looked at the message. She now +read it through attentively to the end. Her face assumed an +expression of stern distrust. She shook her head. + +"Read it yourself," she answered; "and remember what I told you, +when you trusted your husband to find a governess for my +grandchild. I said: 'You do not know men as I do.' I hope you may +not live to repent it." + +Mrs. Linley was too fond of her husband to let this pass. "Why +shouldn't I trust him?" she asked. "He was going to London on +business--and it was an excellent opportunity." + +Mrs. Presty disposed of this weak defense of her daughter's +conduct by waving her hand. "Read your telegram," she repeated +with dignity, "and judge for yourself." + +Mrs. Linley read: + +"I have engaged a governess. She will travel in the same train +with me. I think I ought to prepare you to receive a person whom +you may be surprised to see. She is very young, and very +inexperienced; quite unlike the ordinary run of governesses. When +you hear how cruelly the poor girl has been used, I am sure you +will sympathize with her as I do." + +Mrs. Linley laid down the message, with a smile. + +"Poor dear Herbert!" she said tenderly. "After we have been eight +years married, is he really afraid that I shall be jealous? +Mamma! Why are you looking so serious?" + +Mrs. Presty took the telegram from her daughter and read extracts +from it with indignant emphasis of voice and manner. + +"Travels in the same train with him. Very young, and very +inexperienced. And he sympathizes with her. Ha! I know the men, +Catherine--I know the men!" + + +Chapter II. + + +The Governess Enters. + +Mr. Herbert Linley arrived at his own house in the forenoon of +the next day. Mrs. Linley, running out to the head of the stairs +to meet her husband, saw him approaching her without a traveling +companion. "Where is the governess?" she asked--when the first +salutes allowed her the opportunity of speaking. + +"On her way to bed, poor soul, under the care of the +housekeeper," Linley answered. + +"Anything infectious, my dear Herbert?" Mrs. Presty inquired +appearing at the breakfast-room door. + +Linley addressed his reply to his wife: + +"Nothing more serious, Catherine, than want of strength. She was +in such a state of fatigue, after our long night journey, that I +had to lift her out of the carriage." + +Mrs. Presty listened with an appearance of the deepest interest. +"Quite a novelty in the way of a governess," she said. "May I ask +what her name is?" + +"Sydney Westerfield." + +Mrs. Presty looked at her daughter and smiled satirically. + +Mrs. Linley remonstrated. + +"Surely," she said, "you don't object to the young lady's name!" + +"I have no opinion to offer, Catherine. I don't believe in the +name." + +"Oh, mamma, do you suspect that it's an assumed name?" + +"My dear, I haven't a doubt that it is. May I ask another +question?" the old lady continued, turning to Linley. "What +references did Miss Westerfield give you?" + +"No references at all." + +Mrs. Presty rose with the alacrity of a young woman, and hurried +to the door. "Follow my example," she said to her daughter, on +her way out. "Lock up your jewel-box." + +Linley drew a deep breath of relief when he was left alone with +his wife. "What makes your mother so particularly disagreeable +this morning?" he inquired. + +"She doesn't approve, dear, of my leaving it to you to choose a +governess for Kitty." + +"Where is Kitty?" + +"Out on her pony for a ride over the hills. Why did you send a +telegram, Herbert, to prepare me for the governess? Did you +really think I might be jealous of Miss Westerfield?" + +Linley burst out laughing. "No such idea entered my head," he +answered. "It isn't _in_ you, my dear, to be jealous." + +Mrs. Linley was not quite satisfied with this view of her +character. Her husband's well-intended compliment reminded her +that there are occasions when any woman may be jealous, no matter +how generous and how gentle she may be. "We won't go quite so far +as that," she said to him, "because--" She stopped, unwilling to +dwell too long on a delicate subject. He jocosely finished the +sentence for her. "Because we don't know what may happen in the +future?" he suggested; making another mistake by making a joke. + +Mrs. Linley returned to the subject of the governess. + +"I don't at all say what my mother says," she resumed; "but was +it not just a little indiscreet to engage Miss Westerfield +without any references?" + +"Unless I am utterly mistaken," Linley replied, "you would have +been quite as indiscreet, in my place. If you had seen the +horrible woman who persecuted and insulted her--" + +His wife interrupted him. "How did all this happen, Herbert? Who +first introduced you to Miss Westerfield?" + +Linley mentioned the advertisement, and described his interview +with the schoolmistress. Having next acknowledged that he had +received a visit from Miss Westerfield herself, he repeated all +that she had been able to tell him of her father's wasted life +and melancholy end. Really interested by this time, Mrs. Linley +was eager for more information. Her husband hesitated. "I would +rather you heard the rest of it from Miss Westerfield," he said, +"in my absence." + +"Why in your absence?" + +"Because she can speak to you more freely, when I am not present. +Hear her tell her own story, and then let me know whether you +think I have made a mistake. I submit to your decision +beforehand, whichever way it may incline." + +Mrs. Linley rewarded him with a kiss. If a married stranger had +seen them, at that moment, he would have been reminded of +forgotten days--the days of his honeymoon. + +"And now," Linley resumed, "suppose we talk a little about +ourselves. I haven't seen any brother yet. Where is Randal?" + +"Staying at the farm to look after your interests. We expect him +to come back to-day. Ah, Herbert, what do we not all owe to that +dear good brother of yours? There is really no end to his +kindness. The last of our poor Highland families who have +emigrated to America have had their expenses privately paid by +Randal. The wife has written to me, and has let out the secret. +There is an American newspaper, among the letters that are +waiting your brother's return, sent to him as a little mark of +attention by these good grateful people." Having alluded to the +neighbors who had left Scotland, Mrs. Linley was reminded of +other neighbors who had remained. She was still relating events +of local interest, when the clock interrupted her by striking the +hour of the nursery dinner. What had become of Kitty? Mrs. Linley +rose and rang the bell to make inquiries. + +On the point of answering, the servant looked round at the open +door behind him. He drew aside, and revealed Kitty, in the +corridor, hand in hand with Sydney Westerfield--who timidly +hesitated at entering the room. "Here she is mamma," cried the +child. "I think she's afraid of you; help me to pull her in." + +Mrs. Linley advanced to receive the new member of her household, +with the irresistible grace and kindness which charmed every +stranger who approached her. "Oh, it's all right," said Kitty. +"Syd likes me, and I like Syd. What do you think? She lived in +London with a cruel woman who never gave her enough to eat. See +what a good girl I am? I'm beginning to feed her already." Kitty +pulled a box of sweetmeats out of her pocket, and handed it to +the governess with a tap on the lid, suggestive of an old +gentleman offering a pinch of snuff to a friend. + +"My dear child, you mustn't speak of Miss Westerfield in that +way! Pray excuse her," said Mrs. Linley, turning to Sydney with a +smile; "I am afraid she has been disturbing you in your room." + +Sydney's silent answer touched the mother's heart; she kissed her +little friend. "I hope you will let her call me Syd," she said +gently; "it reminds me of a happier time." Her voice faltered; +she could say no more. Kitty explained, with the air of a grown +person encouraging a child. "I know all about it, mamma. She +means the time when her papa was alive. She lost her papa when +she was a little girl like me. I didn't disturb her. I only said, +'My name's Kitty; may I get up on the bed?' And she was quite +willing; and we talked. And I helped her to dress." Mrs. Linley +led Sydney to the sofa, and stopped the flow of her daughter's +narrative. The look, the voice, the manner of the governess had +already made their simple appeal to her generous nature. When her +husband took Kitty's hand to lead her with him out of the room, +she whispered as he passed: "You have done quite right; I haven't +a doubt of it now!" + + +Chapter III. + + +Mrs. Presty Changes Her Mind. + + +The two ladies were alone. + +Widely as the lot in life of one differed from the lot in life of +the other, they presented a contrast in personal appearance which +was more remarkable still. In the prime of life, tall and +fair--the beauty of her delicate complexion and her brilliant +blue eyes rivaled by the charm of a figure which had arrived at +its mature perfection of development--Mrs. Linley sat side by +side with a frail little dark-eyed creature, thin and pale, whose +wasted face bore patient witness to the three cruelest privations +under which youth can suffer--want of fresh air, want of +nourishment, and want of kindness. The gentle mistress of the +house wondered sadly if this lost child of misfortune was capable +of seeing the brighter prospect before her that promised +enjoyment of a happier life to come. + +"I was afraid to disturb you while you were resting," Mrs. Linley +said. "Let me hope that my housekeeper has done what I might have +done myself, if I had seen you when you arrived." + +"The housekeeper has been all that is good and kind to me, +madam." + +"Don't call me 'madam'; it sounds so formal--call me 'Mrs. +Linley.' You must not think of beginning to teach Kitty till you +feel stronger and better. I see but too plainly that you have not +been happy. Don't think of your past life, or speak of your past +life." + +"Forgive me, Mrs. Linley; my past life is my one excuse for +having ventured to come into this house." + +"In what way, my dear?" + +At the moment when that question was put, the closed curtains +which separated the breakfast-room from the library were softly +parted in the middle. A keen old face, strongly marked by +curiosity and distrust, peeped through--eyed the governess with +stern scrutiny--and retired again into hiding. + +The introduction of a stranger (without references) into the +intimacy of the family circle was, as Mrs. Presty viewed it, a +crisis in domestic history. Conscience, with its customary +elasticity, adapted itself to the emergency, and Linley's +mother-in-law stole information behind the curtain--in Linley's +best interests, it is quite needless to say. + +The talk of the two ladies went on, without a suspicion on either +side that it was overheard by a third person. + +Sydney explained herself. + +"If I had led a happier life," she said, "I might have been able +to resist Mr. Linley's kindness. I concealed nothing from him. He +knew that I had no friends to speak for me; he knew that I had +been dismissed from my employment at the school. Oh, Mrs. Linley, +everything I said which would have made other people suspicious +of me made _him_ feel for me! I began to wonder whether he was an +angel or a man. If he had not prevented it, I should have fallen +on my knees before him. Hard looks and hard words I could have +endured patiently, but I had not seen a kind look, I had not +heard a kind word, for more years than I can reckon up. That is +all I can say for myself; I leave the rest to your mercy." + +"Say my sympathy," Mrs. Linley answered, "and you need say no +more.. But there is one thing I should like to know. You have not +spoken to me of your mother. Have you lost both your parents?" + +"No." + +"Then you were brought up by your mother?" + +"Yes." + +"You surely had some experience of kindness when you were a +child?" + +A third short answer would have been no very grateful return for +Mrs. Linley's kindness. Sydney had no choice but to say plainly +what her experience of her mother had been. + +"Are there such women in the world!" Mrs. Linley exclaimed. +"Where is your mother now?" + +"In America--I think." + +"You think?" + +"My mother married again," said Sydney. "She went to America with +her husband and my little brother, six years ago." + +"And left you behind?" + +"Yes." + +"And has she never written to you;" + +"Never." + +This time, Mrs. Linley kept silence; not without an effort. +Thinking of Sydney's mother--and for one morbid moment seeing her +own little darling in Sydney's place--she was afraid to trust +herself to speak while the first impression was vividly present +to her mind. + +"I will only hope," she replied, after waiting a little, "that +some kind person pitied and helped you when you were deserted. +Any change must have been for the better after that. Who took +charge of you?" + +"My mother's sister took charge of me, an elder sister, who kept +a school. The time when I was most unhappy was the time when my +aunt began to teach me. 'If you don't want to be beaten, and kept +on bread and water,' she said, 'learn, you ugly little wretch, +and be quick about it."' + +"Did she speak in that shameful way to the other girls?" + +"Oh, no! I was taken into her school for nothing, and, young as I +was, I was expected to earn my food and shelter by being fit to +teach the lowest class. The girls hated me. It was such a +wretched life that I hardly like to speak of it now. I ran away, +and I was caught, and severely punished. When I grew older and +wiser, I tried to find some other employment for myself. The +elder girls bought penny journals that published stories. They +were left about now and then in the bedrooms. I read the stories +when I had the chance. Even my ignorance discovered how feeble +and foolish they were. They encouraged me to try if I could write +a story myself; I couldn't do worse, and I might do better. I +sent my manuscript to the editor. It was accepted and +printed--but when I wrote and asked him if he would pay me +something for it, he refused. Dozens of ladies, he said, wrote +stories for him for nothing. It didn't matter what the stories +were. Anything would do for his readers, so long as the +characters were lords and ladies, and there was plenty of love in +it. My next attempt to get away from the school ended in another +disappointment. A poor old man, who had once been an actor, used +to come to us twice a week, and get a few shillings by teaching +the girls to read aloud. He was called 'Professor of English +Literature,' and he taught out of a ragged book of verses which +smelled of his pipe. I learned one of the pieces and repeated it +to him, and asked if there was any hope of my being able to go on +the stage. He was very kind; he told me the truth. 'My dear, you +have no dramatic ability; God forbid you should go on the stage.' +I went back again to the penny journals, and tried a new editor. +He seemed to have more money than the other one; or perhaps he +was kinder. I got ten shillings from him for my story. With that +money I made my last attempt--I advertised for a situation as +governess. If Mr. Linley had not seen my advertisement, I might +have starved in the streets. When my aunt heard of it, she +insisted on my begging her pardon before the whole school. Do +girls get half maddened by persecution? If they do, I think I +must have been one of those girls. I refused to beg pardon; and I +was dismissed from my situation without a character. Will you +think me very foolish? I shut my eyes again, when I woke in my +delicious bed today. I was afraid that the room, and everything +in it, was a dream." She looked round, and started to her feet. +"Oh, here's a lady! Shall I go away?" + +The curtains hanging over the entrance to the library were opened +for the second time. With composure and dignity, the lady who had +startled Sydney entered the room. + +"Have you been reading in the library?" Mrs. Linley asked. And +Mrs. Presty answered: "No, Catherine; I have been listening." + +Mrs. Linley looked at her mother; her lovely complexion reddened +with a deep blush. + +"Introduce me to Miss Westerfield," Mrs. Presty proceeded, as +coolly as ever. + +Mrs. Linley showed some hesitation. What would the governess +think of her mother? Perfectly careless of what the governess +might think, Mrs. Presty crossed the room and introduced herself. + +"Miss Westerfield, I am Mrs. Linley's mother. And I am, in one +respect, a remarkable person. When I form an opinion and find +it's the opinion of a fool, I am not in the least ashamed to +change my mind. I have changed my mind about you. Shake hands." + +Sydney respectfully obeyed. + +"Sit down again." Sydney returned to her chair. + +"I had the worst possible opinion of you," Mrs. Presty resumed, +"before I had the pleasure of listening on the other side of the +curtain. It has been my good fortune--what's your Christian name? +Did I hear it? or have I forgotten it? 'Sydney,' eh? Very well. I +was about to say, Sydney, that it has been my good fortune to be +intimately associated, in early life, with two remarkable +characters. Husbands of mine, in short, whose influence over me +has, I am proud to say, set death and burial at defiance. Between +them they have made my mind the mind of a man. I judge for +myself. The opinions of others (when they don't happen to agree +with mine) I regard as chaff to be scattered to the winds. No, +Catherine, I am not wandering. I am pointing out to a young +person, who has her way to make in the world, the vast +importance, on certain occasions, of possessing an independent +mind. If I had been ashamed to listen behind those curtains, +there is no injury that my stupid prejudices might not have +inflicted on this unfortunate girl. As it is, I have heard her +story, and I do her justice. Count on me, Sydney, as your friend, +and now get up again. My grandchild (never accustomed to wait for +anything since the day when she was born) is waiting dinner for +you. She is at this moment shouting for her governess, as King +Richard (I am a great reader of Shakespeare) once shouted for his +horse. The maid (you will recognize her as a stout person +suffering under tight stays) is waiting outside to show you the +way to the nursery. _Au revoir._ Stop! I should like to judge the +purity of your French accent. Say 'au revoir' to me. Thank +you.--Weak in her French, Catherine," Mrs. Presty pronounced, +when the door had closed on the governess; "but what can you +expect, poor wretch, after such a life as she has led? Now we are +alone, I have a word of advice for your private ear. We have much +to anticipate from Miss Westerfield that is pleasant and +encouraging. But I don't conceal it from myself or from you, we +have also something to fear." + +"To fear?" Mrs. Linley repeated. "I don't understand you." + +"Never mind, Catherine, whether you understand me or not. I want +more information. Tell me what your husband said to you about +this young lady?" + +Wondering at the demon of curiosity which appeared to possess her +mother, Mrs. Linley obeyed. Listening throughout with the closest +attention, Mrs. Presty reckoned up the items of information, and +pointed the moral to be drawn from them by worldly experience. + +"First obstacle in the way of her moral development, her +father--tried, found guilty, and dying in prison. Second +obstacle, her mother--an unnatural wretch who neglected and +deserted her own flesh and blood. Third obstacle, her mother's +sister--being her mother over again in an aggravated form. People +who only look at the surface of things might ask what we gain by +investigating Miss Westerfield's past life. We gain this: we know +what to expect of Miss Westerfield in the future." + +"I for one," Mrs. Linley interposed, "expect everything that is +good and true." + +"Say she's naturally an angel," Mrs. Presty answered; "and I +won't contradict you. But do pray hear how my experience looks at +it. I remember what a life she has led, and I ask myself if any +human creature could have suffered as that girl has suffered +without being damaged by it. Among those damnable people--I beg +your pardon, my dear; Mr. Norman sometimes used strong language, +and it breaks out of me now and then--the good qualities of that +unfortunate young person can _not_ have always resisted the +horrid temptations and contaminations about her. Hundreds of +times she must have had deceit forced on her; she must have lied, +through ungovernable fear; she must have been left (at a critical +time in her life, mind!) with no more warning against the +insidious advances of the passions than--than--I'm repeating what +Mr. Presty said of a niece of his own, who went to a bad school +at Paris; and I don't quite remember what comparisons that +eloquent man used when he was excited. But I know what I mean. I +like Miss Westerfield; I believe Miss Westerfield will come out +well in the end. But I don't forget that she is going to lead a +new life here--a life of luxury, my dear; a life of ease and +health and happiness--and God only knows what evil seed sown in +her, in her past life, may not spring up under new influences. I +tell you we must be careful; I tell you we must keep our eyes +open. And so much the better for Her. And so much the better for +Us." + +Mrs. Presty's wise and wary advice (presented unfavorably, it +must be owned, through her inveterately quaint way of expressing +herself) failed to produce the right impression on her daughter's +mind. Mrs. Linley replied in the tone of a person who was +unaffectedly shocked. + +"Oh, mamma, I never knew you so unjust before! You can't have +heard all that Miss Westerfield said to me. You don't know her, +as I know her. So patient, so forgiving, so grateful to Herbert." + +"So grateful to Herbert." Mrs. Presty looked at her daughter in +silent surprise. There could be no doubt about it; Mrs. Linley +failed entirely to see any possibilities of future danger in the +grateful feeling of her sensitive governess toward her handsome +husband. At this exhibition of simplicity, the old lady's last +reserves of endurance gave way: she rose to go. "You have an +excellent heart, Catherine," she remarked; "but as for your +head--" + +"Well, and what of my head?" + +"It's always beautifully dressed, my dear, by your maid." With +that parting shot, Mrs. Presty took her departure by way of the +library. Almost at the same moment, the door of the +breakfast-room was opened. A young man advanced, and shook hands +cordially with Mrs. Linley. + + +Chapter IV. + + +Randal Receives His Correspondence. + + +Self-revealed by the family likeness as Herbert's brother, Randal +Linley was nevertheless greatly Herbert's inferior in personal +appearance. His features were in no way remarkable for manly +beauty. In stature, he hardly reached the middle height; and +young as he was, either bad habit or physical weakness had so +affected the upper part of his figure that he stooped. But with +these, and other disadvantages, there was something in his eyes, +and in his smile--the outward expression perhaps of all that was +modestly noble in his nature--so irresistible in its attractive +influence that men, women, and children felt the charm alike. +Inside of the house, and outside of the house, everybody was fond +of Randal; even Mrs. Presty included. + +"Have you seen a new face among us, since you returned?" were his +sister-in-law's first words. Randal answered that he had seen +Miss Westerfield. The inevitable question followed. What did he +think of her? "I'll tell you in a week or two more," he replied. + +"No! tell me at once." + +"I don't like trusting my first impression; I have a bad habit of +jumping to conclusions." + +"Jump to a conclusion to please me. Do you think she's pretty?" + +Randal smiled and looked away. "Your governess," he replied, +"looks out of health, and (perhaps for that reason) strikes me as +being insignificant and ugly. Let us see what our fine air and +our easy life here will do for her. In so young a woman as she +is, I am prepared for any sort of transformation. We may be all +admiring pretty Miss Westerfield before another month is over our +heads.--Have any letters come for me while I have been away?" + +He went into the library and returned with his letters. "This +will amuse Kitty," he said, handing his sister-in-law the +illustrated New York newspaper, to which she had already referred +in speaking to her husband. + +Mrs. Linley examined the engravings--and turned back again to +look once more at an illustration which had interested her. A +paragraph on the same page caught her attention. She had hardly +glanced at the first words before a cry of alarm escaped her. +"Dreadful news for Miss Westerfield!" she exclaimed. "Read it, +Randal." + +He read these words: + + +"The week's list of insolvent traders includes an Englishman +named James Bellbridge, formerly connected with a disreputable +saloon in this city. Bellbridge is under suspicion of having +caused the death of his wife in a fit of delirium tremens. The +unfortunate woman had been married, for the first time, to one of +the English aristocracy--the Honorable Roderick +Westerfield--whose trial for casting away a ship under his +command excited considerable interest in London some years since. +The melancholy circumstances of the case are complicated by the +disappearance, on the day of the murder, of the woman's young son +by her first husband. The poor boy is supposed to have run away +in terror from his miserable home, and the police are endeavoring +to discover some trace of him. It is reported that another child +of the first marriage (a daughter) is living in England. But +nothing is known about her." + + +"Has your governess any relations in England?" Randal asked. + +"Only an aunt, who has treated her in the most inhuman manner." + +"Serious news for Miss Westerfield, as you say," Randal resumed. +"And, as I think, serious news for us. Here is a mere girl--a +poor friendless creature--absolutely dependent on our protection. +What are we to do if anything happens, in the future, to alter +our present opinion of her?" + +"Nothing of the sort is likely to happen," Mrs. Linley declared. + +"Let us hope not," Randal said, gravely. + + +Chapter V. + + +Randal Writes to New York. + + +The members of the family at Mount Morven consulted together, +before Sydney Westerfield was informed of her brother's +disappearance and of her mother's death. + +Speaking first, as master of the house, Herbert Linley offered +his opinion without hesitation. His impulsive kindness shrank +from the prospect of reviving the melancholy recollections +associated with Sydney's domestic life. "Why distress the poor +child, just as she is beginning to feel happy among us?" he +asked. "Give me the newspaper; I shan't feel easy till I have +torn it up." + +His wife drew the newspaper out of his reach. "Wait a little," +she said, quietly; "some of us may feel that it is no part of our +duty to conceal the truth." + +Mrs. Presty spoke next. To the surprise of the family council, +she agreed with her son-in-law. + +"Somebody must speak out," the old lady began; "and I mean to set +the example. Telling the truth," she declared, turning severely +to her daughter, "is a more complicated affair than you seem to +think. It's a question of morality, of course; but--in family +circles, my dear--it's sometimes a question of convenience as +well. Is it convenient to upset my granddaughter's governess, +just as she is entering on her new duties? Certainly not! Good +heavens, what does it matter to my young friend Sydney whether +her unnatural mother lives or dies? Herbert, I second your +proposal to tear up the paper with the greatest pleasure." + +Herbert, sitting next to Randal, laid his hand affectionately on +his brother's shoulder. "Are you on our side?" he asked. + +Randal hesitated. + +"I feel inclined to agree with you," he said to Herbert. "It does +seem hard to recall Miss Westerfield to the miserable life that +she has led, and to do it in the way of all others which must try +her fortitude most cruelly. At the same time--" + +"Oh, don't spoil what you have said by seeing the other side of +the question!" cried his brother "You have already put it +admirably; leave it as it is." + +"At the same time," Randal gently persisted, "I have heard no +reasons which satisfy me that we have a right to keep Miss +Westerfield in ignorance of what has happened." + +This serious view of the question in debate highly diverted Mrs. +Presty. "I do not like that man," she announced, pointing to +Randal; "he always amuses me. Look at him now! He doesn't know +which side he is on, himself." + +"He is on my side," Herbert declared. + +"Not he!" + +Herbert consulted his brother. "What do you say yourself?" + +"I don't know," Randal answered. + +"There!" cried Mrs. Presty. "What did I tell you?" + +Randal tried to set his strange reply in the right light. "I only +mean," he explained, "that I want a little time to think." + +Herbert gave up the dispute and appealed to his wife. "You have +still got the American newspaper in your hand," he said. "What do +you mean to do with it?" + +Quietly and firmly Mrs. Linley answered: "I mean to show it to +Miss Westerfield." + +"Against my opinion? Against your mother's opinion?" Herbert +asked. "Have we no influence over you? Do as Randal does--take +time, my dear, to think." + +She answered this with her customary calmness of manner and +sweetness of tone. "I am afraid I must appear obstinate; but it +is indeed true that I want no time to think; my duty is too plain +to me." + +Her husband and her mother listened to her in astonishment. Too +amiable and too happy--and it must be added too indolent--to +assert herself in the ordinary emergencies of family life, Mrs. +Linley only showed of what metal she was made on the very rare +occasions when the latent firmness in her nature was stirred to +its innermost depths. The general experience of this +sweet-tempered and delightful woman, ranging over long intervals +of time, was the only experience which remained in the memories +of the persons about her. In bygone days, they had been amazed +when her unexpected readiness and firmness of decision presented +an exception to a general rule--just as they were amazed now. + +Herbert tried a last remonstrance. "Is it possible, Catherine, +that you don't see the cruelty of showing that newspaper to Miss +Westerfield?" + +Even this appeal to Mrs. Linley's sympathies failed to shake her +resolution. "You may trust me to be careful," was all she said in +reply; "I shall prepare her as tenderly for the sad news from +America, as if she was a daughter of my own." + +Hearing this, Mrs. Presty showed a sudden interest in the +proceedings "When do you mean to begin?" she asked. + +"At once, mamma." + +Mrs. Presty broke up the meeting on the spot. "Wait till I am out +of the way," she stipulated. "Do you object to Herbert giving me +his arm? Distressing scenes are not in his line or in mine." + +Mrs. Linley made no objection. Herbert resigned himself (not at +all unwillingly) to circumstances. Arm in arm, he and his wife's +mother left the room. + +Randal showed no intention of following them; he had given +himself time to think. "We are all wrong, Catherine," he said; +"and you alone are right. What can I do to help you?" + +She took his hand gratefully. "Always kind! Never thinking of +yourself! I will see Miss Westerfield in my own room. Wait here, +in case I want you." + +After a much shorter absence than Randal anticipated, Mrs. Linley +returned. "Has it been very distressing?" he asked, seeing the +traces of tears in her eyes. + +"There are noble qualities," she answered, "in that poor ill-used +girl. Her one thought, as soon as she began to understand my +motive in speaking to her, was not for herself, but for me. Even +you, a man, must have felt the tears in your eyes, if you had +heard her promise that I should suffer no further anxiety on her +account. 'You shall see no distressing change in me,' she said, +'when we meet to-morrow.' All she asked was to be left in her +room for the rest of the day. I feel sure of her resolution to +control herself; and yet I should like to encourage her if I can. +Her chief sorrow (as it seems to me) must be--not for the mother +who has so shamefully neglected her--but for the poor little +brother, a castaway lost in a strange land. Can we do nothing to +relieve her anxiety?" + +"I can write," Randal said, "to a man whom I know in New York; a +lawyer in large practice." + +"The very person we want! Write--pray write by today's post." + +The letter was dispatched. It was decided--and wisely decided, as +the result proved--to say nothing to Sydney until the answer was +received. Randal's correspondent wrote back with as little delay +as possible. He had made every inquiry without success. Not a +trace of the boy had been found, or (in the opinion of the +police) was likely to be found. The one event that had happened, +since the appearance of the paragraph in the New York journal, +was the confinement of James Bellbridge in an asylum, as a madman +under restraint without hope of recovery. + + +Chapter VI. + + +Sydney Teaches. + + +Mrs. Presty had not very seriously exaggerated the truth, when +she described her much-indulged granddaughter as "a child who had +never been accustomed to wait for anything since the day when she +was born." + +Governesses in general would have found it no easy matter to +produce a favorable impression on Kitty, and to exert the +necessary authority in instructing her, at the same time. Spoiled +children (whatever moralists may say to the contrary) are +companionable and affectionate children, for the most +part--except when they encounter the unfortunate persons employed +to introduce them to useful knowledge. Mr. and Mrs. Linley +(guiltily conscious of having been too fond of their only child +to subject her to any sort of discipline) were not very willing +to contemplate the prospect before Miss Westerfield on her first +establishment in the schoolroom. To their surprise and relief +there proved to be no cause for anxiety after all. Without making +an attempt to assert her authority, the new governess succeeded +nevertheless when older and wiser women would have failed. + +The secret of Sydney's triumph over adverse circumstances lay +hidden in Sydney herself. + +Everything in the ordinary routine of life at Mount Morven was a +source of delight and surprise to the unfortunate creature who +had passed through six years of cruelty, insult, and privation at +her aunt's school. Look where she might, in her new sphere of +action, she saw pleasant faces and heard kind words. At meal +times, wonderful achievements in the art of cookery appeared on +the table which she had not only never tasted, but never even +heard of. When she went out walking with her pupil they were free +to go where they pleased, without restriction of time--except the +time of dinner. To breathe the delicious air, to look at the +glorious scenery, were enjoyments so exquisitely exhilarating +that, by Sydney's own confession, she became quite light headed +with pleasure. She ran races with Kitty--and nobody reproved her. +She rested, out of breath, while the stronger child was ready to +run on--and no merciless voice cried "None of your laziness; +time's up!" Wild flowers that she had never yet seen might be +gathered, and no offense was committed. Kitty told her the names +of the flowers, and the names of the summer insects that flashed +and hummed in the hillside breezes; and was so elated at teaching +her governess that her rampant spirits burst out in singing. +"Your turn next," the joyous child cried, when she too was out of +breath. "Sing, Sydney--sing!" Alas for Sydney! She had not sung +since those happiest days of her childhood, when her good father +had told her fairy stories, and taught her songs. They were all +forgotten now. "I can't sing, Kitty; I can't sing." The pupil, +hearing this melancholy confession, became governess once more. +"Say the words, Syd; and hum the tune after me." They laughed +over the singing lesson, until the echoes of the hills mocked +them, and laughed too. Looking into the schoolroom, one day, Mrs. +Linley found that the serious business of teaching was not +neglected. The lessons went on smoothly, without an obstacle in +the way. Kitty was incapable of disappointing her friend and +playfellow, who made learning easy with a smile and a kiss. The +balance of authority was regulated to perfection in the lives of +these two simple creatures. In the schoolroom, the governess +taught the child. Out of the schoolroom, the child taught the +governess. Division of labor was a principle in perfect working +order at Mount Morven--and nobody suspected it! But, as the weeks +followed each other, one more remarkable circumstance presented +itself which every person in the household was equally quick to +observe. The sad Sydney Westerfield whom they all pitied had now +become the pretty Sydney Westerfield whom they all admired. It +was not merely a change--it was a transformation. Kitty stole the +hand-glass from her mother's room, and insisted that her +governess should take it and look at herself. "Papa says you're +as plump as a partridge; and mamma says you're as fresh as a +rose; and Uncle Randal wags his head, and tells them he saw it +from the first. I heard it all when they thought I was playing +with my doll--and I want to know, you best of nice girls, what +you think of your own self?" + +"I think, my dear, it's time we went on with our lessons." + +"Wait a little, Syd; I have something else to say." + +"What is it?" + +"It's about papa. He goes out walking with us--doesn't he?" + +"Yes." + +"He didn't go out walking with me--before you came here. I've +been thinking about it; and I'm sure papa likes you. What are you +looking in the drawer for?" + +"For your lesson books, dear." + +"Yes--but I haven't quite done yet. Papa talks a good deal to +you, and you don't talk much to papa. Don't you like him?" + +"Oh, Kitty!" + +"Then do you like him?" + +"How can I help liking him? I owe all my happiness to your papa." + +"Do you like him better than mamma?" + +"I should be very ungrateful, if I liked anybody better than your +mamma." + +Kitty considered a little, and shook her head. "I don't +understand that," she declared roundly. "What do you mean?" + +Sydney cleaned the pupil's slate, and set the pupil's sum--and +said nothing. + +Kitty placed a suspicious construction of her own on her +governess's sudden silence. "Perhaps you don't like my wanting to +know so many things," she suggested. "Or perhaps you meant to +puzzle me?" + +Sydney sighed, and answered, "I'm puzzled myself." + + + +Chapter VII. + + +Sydney Suffers. + +In the autumn holiday-time friends in the south, who happened to +be visiting Scotland, were invited to stop at Mount Morven on +their way to the Highlands; and were accustomed to meet the +neighbors of the Linleys at dinner on their arrival. The time for +this yearly festival had now come round again; the guests were in +the house; and Mr. and Mrs. Linley were occupied in making their +arrangements for the dinner-party. With her unfailing +consideration for every one about her, Mrs. Linley did not forget +Sydney while she was sending out her cards of invitation. "Our +table will be full at dinner," she said to her husband; "Miss +Westerfield had better join us in the evening with Kitty." + +"I suppose so," Linley answered with some hesitation. + +"You seem to doubt about it, Herbert. Why?" + +"I was only wondering--" + +"Wondering about what?" + +"Has Miss Westerfield got a gown, Catherine, that will do for a +party?" + +Linley's wife looked at him as if she doubted the evidence of her +own senses. "Fancy a man thinking of that!" she exclaimed. +"Herbert, you astonish me." + +He laughed uneasily. "I don't know how I came to think of +it--unless it is that she wears the same dress every day. Very +neat; but (perhaps I'm wrong) a little shabby too." + +"Upon my word, you pay Miss Westerfield a compliment which you +have never paid to me! Wear what I may, you never seem to know +how _I_ am dressed." + +"I beg your pardon, Catherine, I know that you are always dressed +well." + +That little tribute restored him to his place in his wife's +estimation. "I may tell you now," she resumed, with her gentle +smile, "that you only remind me of what I had thought of already. +My milliner is at work for Miss Westerfield. The new dress must +be your gift." + +"Are you joking?" + +"I am in earnest. To-morrow is Sydney's birthday; and here is +_my_ present." She opened a jeweler's case, and took out a plain +gold bracelet. "Suggested by Kitty," she added, pointing to an +inlaid miniature portrait of the child. Herbert read the +inscription: _To Sydney Westerfield with Catherine Linley's +love._ He gave the bracelet back to his wife in silence; his +manner was more serious than usual--he kissed her hand. + +The day of the dinner-party marked an epoch in Sydney's life. + +For the first time, in all her past experience, she could look in +the glass, and see herself prettily dressed, with a gold bracelet +on her arm. If we consider how men (in one way) and milliners (in +another) profit by it, vanity is surely to be reckoned, not among +the vices but among the virtues of the sex. Will any woman, who +speaks the truth, hesitate to acknowledge that her first +sensations of gratified vanity rank among the most exquisite and +most enduring pleasures that she has ever felt? Sydney locked her +door, and exhibited herself to herself--in the front view, the +side view, and the back view (over the shoulder) with eyes that +sparkled and cheeks that glowed in a delicious confusion of pride +and astonishment. She practiced bowing to strangers in her new +dress; she practiced shaking hands gracefully, with her bracelet +well in view. Suddenly she stood still before the glass and +became serious and thoughtful. Kind and dear Mr. Linley was in +her mind now. While she was asking herself anxiously what he +would think of her, Kitty--arrayed in _her_ new finery, as vain +and as happy as her governess--drummed with both fists outside +the door, and announced at the top of her voice that it was time +to go downstairs. Sydney's agitation at the prospect of meeting +the ladies in the drawing-room added a charm of its own to the +flush that her exercises before the glass had left on her face. +Shyly following instead of leading her little companion into the +room, she presented such a charming appearance of youth and +beauty that the ladies paused in their talk to look at her. Some +few admired Kitty's governess with generous interest; the greater +number doubted Mrs. Linley's prudence in engaging a girl so very +pretty and so very young. Little by little, Sydney's +manner--simple, modest, shrinking from observation--pleaded in +her favor even with the ladies who had been prejudiced against +her at the outset. When Mrs. Linley presented her to the guests, +the most beautiful woman among them (Mrs. MacEdwin) made room for +her on the sofa, and with perfect tact and kindness set the +stranger at her ease. When the gentlemen came in from the +dinner-table, Sydney was composed enough to admire the brilliant +scene, and to wonder again, as she had wondered already, what Mr. +Linley would say to her new dress. + +Mr. Linley certainly did notice her--at a distance. + +He looked at her with a momentary fervor of interest and +admiration which made Sydney (so gratefully and so guiltlessly +attached to him) tremble with pleasure; he even stepped forward +as if to approach her, checked himself, and went back again among +his guests. Now, in one part of the room, and now in another, she +saw him speaking to them. The one neglected person whom he never +even looked at again, was the poor girl to whom his approval was +the breath of her life. Had she ever felt so unhappy as she felt +now? No, not even at her aunt's school! + +Friendly Mrs. MacEdwin touched her arm. "My dear, you are losing +your pretty color. Are you overcome by the heat? Shall I take you +into the next room?" + +Sydney expressed her sincere sense of the lady's kindness. Her +commonplace excuse was a true excuse--she had a headache; and she +asked leave to retire to her room. + +Approaching the door, she found herself face to face with Mr. +Linley. He had just been giving directions to one of the +servants, and was re-entering the drawing-room. She stopped, +trembling and cold; but, in the very intensity of her +wretchedness, she found courage enough to speak to him. + +"You seem to avoid me, Mr. Linley," she began, addressing him +with ceremonious respect, and keeping her eyes on the ground. "I +hope--" she hesitated, and desperately looked at him--"I hope I +haven't done anything to offend you?" + +In her knowledge of him, up to that miserable evening, he +constantly spoke to her with a smile. She had never yet seen him +so serious and so inattentive as he was now. His eyes, wandering +round the room, rested on Mrs. Linley--brilliant and beautiful, +and laughing gayly. Why was he looking at his wife with plain +signs of embarrassment in his face? Sydney piteously persisted in +repeating her innocent question: "I hope I haven't done anything +to offend you?" + +He seemed to be still reluctant to notice her--on the one +occasion of all others when she was looking her best! But he +answered at last. + +"My dear child, it is impossible that you should offend me; you +have misunderstood and mistaken me. Don't suppose--pray don't +suppose that I am changed or can ever be changed toward you." + +He emphasized the kind intention which those words revealed by +giving her his hand. + +But the next moment he drew back. There was no disguising it, he +drew back as if he wished to get away from her. She noticed that +his lips were firmly closed and his eyebrows knitted in a frown; +he looked like a man who was forcing himself to submit to some +hard necessity that he hated or feared. + +Sydney left the room in despair. + +He had denied in the plainest and kindest terms that he was +changed toward her. Was that not enough? It was nothing like +enough. The facts were there to speak for themselves: he was an +altered man; anxiety, sorrow, remorse--one or the other seemed to +have got possession of him. Judging by Mrs. Linley's gayety of +manner, his wife could not possibly have been taken into his +confidence. + +What did it mean? Oh, the useless, hopeless question! And yet, +again and again she asked herself: what did it mean? + +In bewildered wretchedness she lingered on the way to her room, +and stopped at the end of a corridor. + +On her right hand, a broad flight of old oak stairs led to the +bed-chambers on the second floor of the house. On her left hand, +an open door showed the stone steps which descended to the +terrace and the garden. The moonlight lay in all its loveliness +on the flower-beds and the grass, and tempted her to pause and +admire it. A prospect of sleepless misery was the one prospect +before her that Sydney could see, if she retired to rest. The +cool night air came freshly up the vaulted tunnel in which the +steps were set; the moonlit garden offered its solace to the +girl's sore heart. No curious women-servants appeared on the +stairs that led to the bed-chambers. No inquisitive eyes could +look at her from the windows of the ground floor--a solitude +abandoned to the curiosity of tourists. Sydney took her hat and +cloak from the stand in a recess at the side of the door, and +went into the garden. + + +Chapter VIII. + +Mrs. Presty Makes a Discovery. + + +The dinner-party had come to an end; the neighbors had taken +their departure; and the ladies at Mount Morven had retired +for the night. + +On the way to her room Mrs. Presty knocked at her daughter's +door. "I want to speak to you, Catherine. Are you in bed?" + +"No, mamma. Come in." + +Robed in a dressing-gown of delicately-mingled white and blue, +and luxuriously accommodated on the softest pillows that could be +placed in an armchair, Mrs. Linley was meditating on the events +of the evening. "This has been the most successful party we have +ever given," she said to her mother. "And did you notice how +charmingly pretty Miss Westerfield looked in her new dress?" + +"It's about that girl I want to speak to you," Mrs. Presty +answered, severely. "I had a higher opinion of her when she first +came here than I have now." + +Mrs. Linley pointed to an open door, communicating with a second +and smaller bed-chamber. "Not quite so loud," she answered, "or +you might wake Kitty. What has Miss Westerfield done to forfeit +your good opinion?" + +Discreet Mrs. Presty asked leave to return to the subject at a +future opportunity. + +"I will merely allude now," she said, "to a change for the worse +in your governess, which you might have noticed when she left the +drawing-room this evening. She had a word or two with Herbert at +the door; and she left him looking as black as thunder." + +Mrs. Linley laid herself back on her pillows and burst out +laughing. "Black as thunder? Poor little Sydney, what a +ridiculous description of her! I beg your pardon, mamma; don't be +offended." + +"On the contrary, my dear, I am agreeably surprised. Your poor +father--a man of remarkable judgment on most subjects--never +thought much of your intelligence. He appears to have been wrong; +you have evidently inherited some of my sense of humor. However, +that is not what I wanted to say; I am the bearer of good news. +When we find it necessary to get rid of Miss Westerfield--" + +Mrs. Linley's indignation expressed itself by a look which, for +the moment at least, reduced her mother to silence. Always equal +to the occasion, however, Mrs. Presty's face assumed an +expression of innocent amazement, which would have produced a +round of applause on the stage. "What have I said to make you +angry?" she inquired. "Surely, my dear, you and your husband are +extraordinary people." + +"Do you mean to tell me, mamma, that you have said to Herbert +what you said just now to me?" + +"Certainly. I mentioned it to Herbert in the course of the +evening. He was excessively rude. He said: 'Tell Mrs. MacEdwin to +mind her own business--and set her the example yourself.'" + +Mrs. Linley returned her mother's look of amazement, without her +mother's eye for dramatic effect. "What has Mrs. MacEdwin to do +with it?" she asked. + +"If you will only let me speak, Catherine, I shall be happy to +explain myself. You saw Mrs. MacEdwin talking to me at the party. +That good lady's head--a feeble head, as all her friends +admit--has been completely turned by Miss Westerfield. 'The first +duty of a governess' (this foolish woman said to me) 'is to win +the affections of her pupils. _My_ governess has entirely failed +to make the children like her. A dreadful temper; I have given +her notice to leave my service. Look at that sweet girl and your +little granddaughter! I declare I could cry when I see how they +understand each other and love each other.' I quote our charming +friend's nonsense, verbatim (as we used to say when we were in +Parliament in Mr. Norman's time), for the sake of what it led to. +If, by any lucky chance, Miss Westerfield happens to be +disengaged in the future, Mrs. MacEdwin's house is open to +her--at her own time, and on her own terms. I promised to speak +to you on the subject, and I perform my promise. Think over it; I +strongly advise you to think over it." + +Even Mrs. Linley's good nature declined to submit to this. "I +shall certainly not think over what cannot possibly happen," she +said. "Good-night, mamma." + +"Good-night, Catherine. Your temper doesn't seem to improve as +you get older. Perhaps the excitement of the party has been too +much for your nerves. Try to get some sleep before Herbert comes +up from the smoking-room and disturbs you." + +Mrs. Linley refused even to let this pass unanswered. "Herbert is +too considerate to disturb me, when his friends keep him up +late," she said. "On those occasions, as you may see for +yourself, he has a bed in his dressing-room." + +Mrs. Presty passed through the dressing-room on her way out. "A +very comfortable-looking bed," she remarked, in a tone intended +to reach her daughter's ears. "I wonder Herbert ever leaves it." + +The way to her own bed-chamber led her by the door of Sydney's +room. She suddenly stopped; the door was not shut. This was in +itself a suspicious circumstance. + +Young or old, ladies are not in the habit of sleeping with their +bedroom doors ajar. A strict sense of duty led Mrs. Presty to +listen outside. No sound like the breathing of a person asleep +was to be heard. A strict sense of duty conducted Mrs. Presty +next into the room, and even encouraged her to approach the bed +on tip-toe. The bed was empty; the clothes had not been disturbed +since it had been made in the morning! + +The old lady stepped out into the corridor in a state of +excitement, which greatly improved her personal appearance. She +looked almost young again as she mentally reviewed the list of +vices and crimes which a governess might commit, who had retired +before eleven o'clock, and was not in her bedroom at twelve. On +further reflection, it appeared to be barely possible that Miss +Westerfield might be preparing her pupil's exercises for the next +day. Mrs. Presty descended to the schoolroom on the first floor. + +No. Here again there was nothing to see but an empty room. + +Where was Miss Westerfield? + +Was it within the limits of probability that she had been bold +enough to join the party in the smoking-room? The bare idea was +absurd. + +In another minute, nevertheless, Mrs. Presty was at the door, +listening. The men's voices were loud: they were talking +politics. She peeped through the keyhole; the smokers had, beyond +all doubt, been left to themselves. If the house had not been +full of guests, Mrs. Presty would now have raised an alarm. As +things were, the fear of a possible scandal which the family +might have reason to regret forced her to act with caution. In +the suggestive retirement of her own room, she arrived at a wise +and wary decision. Opening her door by a few inches, she placed a +chair behind the opening in a position which commanded a view of +Sydney's room. Wherever the governess might be, her return to her +bed-chamber, before the servants were astir in the morning, was a +chance to be counted on. The night-lamp in the corridor was well +alight; and a venerable person, animated by a sense of duty, was +a person naturally superior to the seductions of sleep. Before +taking the final precaution of extinguishing her candle, Mrs. +Presty touched up her complexion, and resolutely turned her back +on her nightcap. "This is a case in which I must keep up my +dignity," she decided, as she took her place in the chair. + + + +One man in the smoking-room appeared to be thoroughly weary of +talking politics. That man was the master of the house. + +Randal noticed the worn, preoccupied look in his brother's face, +and determined to break up the meeting. The opportunity for which +he was waiting occurred in another minute. He was asked as a +moderate politician to decide between two guests, both members of +Parliament, who were fast drifting into mere contradiction of +each other's second-hand opinions. In plain terms, they stated +the matter in dispute: "Which of our political parties deserves +the confidence of the English people?" In plain terms, on his +sides Randal answered: "The party that lowers the taxes." Those +words acted on the discussion like water on a fire. As members of +Parliament, the two contending politicians were naturally +innocent of the slightest interest in the people or the taxes; +they received the new idea submitted to them in helpless silence. +Friends who were listening began to laugh. The oldest man present +looked at his watch. In five minutes more the lights were out and +the smoking-room was deserted. + +Linley was the last to retire--fevered by the combined +influences of smoke and noise. His mind, oppressed all through +the evening, was as ill at ease as ever. Lingering, wakeful and +irritable, in the corridor (just as Sydney had lingered before +him), he too stopped at the open door and admired the peaceful +beauty of the garden. + +The sleepy servant, appointed to attend in the smoking room, +asked if he should close the door. Linley answered: "Go to bed, +and leave it to me." Still lingering at the top of the steps, he +too was tempted by the refreshing coolness of the air. He took +the key out of the lock; secured the door after he had passed +through it; put the key in his pocket, and went down into the +garden. + + +Chapter IX. + + +Somebody Attends to the Door. + + +With slow steps Linley crossed the lawn; his mind gloomily +absorbed in thoughts which had never before troubled his easy +nature--thoughts heavily laden with a burden of self-reproach. + +Arrived at the limits of the lawn, two paths opened before him. +One led into a quaintly pretty inclosure, cultivated on the plan +of the old gardens at Versailles, and called the French Garden. +The other path led to a grassy walk, winding its way capriciously +through a thick shrubbery. Careless in what direction he turned +his steps, Linley entered the shrubbery, because it happened to +be nearest to him. + +Except at certain points, where the moonlight found its way +through open spaces in the verdure, the grassy path which he was +now following wound onward in shadow. How far he had advanced he +had not noticed, when he heard a momentary rustling of leaves at +some little distance in advance of him. The faint breeze had died +away; the movement among the leaves had been no doubt produced by +the creeping or the flying of some creature of the night. Looking +up, at the moment when he was disturbed by this trifling +incident, he noticed a bright patch of moonlight ahead as he +advanced to a new turn in the path. + +The instant afterward he was startled by the appearance of a +figure, emerging into the moonlight from the further end of the +shrubbery, and rapidly approaching him. He was near enough to see +that it was the figure of a woman. Was it one of the female +servants, hurrying back to the house after an interview with a +sweetheart? In his black evening dress, he was, in all +probability, completely hidden by the deep shadow in which he +stood. Would he be less likely to frighten the woman if he called +to her than if he allowed her to come close up to him in the +dark? He decided on calling to her. + +"Who is out so late?" he asked. + +A cry of alarm answered him. The figure stood still for a moment, +and then turned back as if to escape him by flight. + +"Don't be frightened," he said. "Surely you know my voice?" + +The figure stood still again. He showed himself in the moonlight, +and discovered--Sydney Westerfield. + +"You!" he exclaimed. + +She trembled; the words in which she answered him were words in +fragments. + +"The garden was so quiet and pretty--I thought there would be no +harm--please let me go back--I'm afraid I shall be shut out--" + +She tried to pass him. "My poor child!" he said, "what is there +to be frightened about? I have been tempted out by the lovely +night, like you. Take my arm. It is so close in here among the +trees. If we go back to the lawn, the air will come to you +freely." + +She took his arm; he could feel her heart throbbing against it. +Kindly silent, he led her back to the open space. Some garden +chairs were placed here and there; he suggested that she should +rest for a while. + +"I'm afraid I shall be shut out," she repeated. "Pray let me get +back." + +He yielded at once to the wish that she expressed. "You must let +me take you back," he explained. "They are all asleep at the +house by this time. No! no! don't be frightened again. I have got +the key of the door. The moment I have opened it, you shall go in +by yourself." + +She looked at him gratefully. "You are not offended with me now, +Mr. Linley," she said. "You are like your kind self again ." + +They ascended the steps which led to the door. Linley took the +key from his pocket. It acted perfectly in drawing back the lock; +but the door, when he pushed it, resisted him. He put his +shoulder against it, and exerted his strength, helped by his +weight. The door remained immovable. + +Had one of the servants--sitting up later than usual after the +party, and not aware that Mr. Linley had gone into the +garden--noticed the door, and carefully fastened the bolts on the +inner side? That was exactly what had happened. + +There was nothing for it but to submit to circumstances. Linley +led the way down the steps again. "We are shut out," he said. + +Sydney listened in silent dismay. He seemed to be merely amused; +he treated their common misfortune as lightly as if it had been a +joke. + +"There's nothing so very terrible in our situation," he reminded +her. "The servants' offices will be opened between six and seven +o'clock; the weather is perfect; and the summer-house in the +French Garden has one easy-chair in it, to my certain knowledge, +in which you may rest and sleep. I'm sure you must be tired--let +me take you there." + +She drew back, and looked up at the house. + +"Can't we make them hear us?" she asked. + +"Quite impossible. Besides--" He was about to remind her of the +evil construction which might be placed on their appearance +together, returning from the garden at an advanced hour of the +night; but her innocence pleaded with him to be silent. He only +said, "You forget that we all sleep at the top of our old castle. +There is no knocker to the door, and no bell that rings upstairs. +Come to the summer-house. In an hour or two more we shall see the +sun rise." + +She took his arm in silence. They reached the French Garden +without another word having passed between them. + +The summer-house had been designed, in harmony with the French +taste of the last century, from a classical model. It was a rough +copy in wood of The Temple of Vesta at Rome. Opening the door for +his companion, Linley paused before he followed her in. A girl +brought up by a careful mother would have understood and +appreciated his hesitation; she would have concealed any feeling +of embarrassment that might have troubled her at the moment, and +would have asked him to come back and let her know when the +rising of the sun began. Neglected by her mother, worse than +neglected by her aunt, Sydney's fearless ignorance put a question +which would have lowered the poor girl cruelly in the estimation +of a stranger. "Are you going to leave me here by myself?" she +asked. "Why don't you come in?" + +Linley thought of his visit to the school, and remembered the +detestable mistress. He excused Sydney; he felt for her. She held +the door open for him. Sure of himself, he entered the +summer-house. + +As a mark of respect on her part, she offered the armchair to +him: it was the one comfortable seat in the neglected place. He +insisted that she should take it; and, searching the +summer-house, found a wooden stool for himself. The small +circular room received but little of the dim outer light--they +were near each other--they were silent. Sydney burst suddenly +into a nervous little laugh. + +"Why do you laugh?" he asked good-humoredly. + +"It seems so strange, Mr. Linley, for us to be out here." In the +moment when she made that reply her merriment vanished; she +looked out sadly, through the open door, at the stillness of the +night. "What should I have done," she wondered, "if I had been +shut out of the house by myself?" Her eyes rested on him timidly; +there was some thought in her which she shrank from expressing. +She only said: "I wish I knew how to be worthy of your kindness." + +Her voice warned him that she was struggling with strong emotion. +In one respect, men are all alike; they hate to see a woman in +tears. Linley treated her like a child; he smiled, and patted her +on the shoulder. "Nonsense!" he said gayly. "There is no merit in +being kind to my good little governess." + +She took that comforting hand--it was a harmless impulse that she +was unable to resist--she bent over it, and kissed it gratefully. +He drew his hand away from her as if the soft touch of her lips +had been fire that burned it. "Oh," she cried, "have I done +wrong?" + +"No, my dear--no, no." + +There was an embarrassment in his manner, the inevitable result +of his fear of himself if he faltered in the resolute exercise of +self-restraint, which was perfectly incomprehensible to Sydney. +He moved his seat back a little, so as to place himself further +away. Something in that action, at that time, shocked and +humiliated her. Completely misunderstanding him, she thought he +was reminding her of the distance that separated them in social +rank. Oh, the shame of it! the shame of it! Would other +governesses have taken a liberty with their master? A fit of +hysterical sobbing burst its way through her last reserves of +self-control; she started to her feet, and ran out of the +summer-house. + +Alarmed and distressed, he followed her instantly. + +She was leaning against the pedestal of a statue in the garden, +panting, shuddering, a sight to touch the heart of a far less +sensitive man than the man who now approached her. "Sydney!" he +said. "Dear little Sydney!" She tried to speak to him in return. +Breath and strength failed her together; she lifted her hand, +vainly grasping at the broad pedestal behind her; she would have +fallen if he had not caught her in his arms. Her head sank +faintly backward on his breast. He looked at the poor little +tortured face, turned up toward him in the lovely moonlight. +Again and again he had honorably restrained himself--he was +human; he was a man--in one mad moment it was done, hotly, +passionately done--he kissed her. + +For the first time in her maiden's life, a man's lips touched her +lips. All that had been perplexing and strange, all that had been +innocently wonderful to herself in the feeling that bound Sydney +to her first friend, was a mystery no more. Love lifted its veil, +Nature revealed its secrets, in the one supreme moment of that +kiss. She threw her arms around his neck with a low cry of +delight--and returned his kiss. + +"Sydney," he whispered, "I love you." + +She heard him in rapturous silence. Her kiss had answered for +her. + +At that crisis in their lives, they were saved by an accident; a +poor little common accident that happens every day. The spring in +the bracelet that Sydney wore gave way as she held him to her; +the bright trinket fell on the grass at her feet. The man never +noticed it. The woman saw her pretty ornament as it dropped from +her arm--saw, and remembered Mrs. Linley's gift. + +Cold and pale--with horror of herself confessed in the action, +simple as it was--she drew back from him in dead silence. + +He was astounded. In tones that trembled with agitation, he said +to her: "Are you ill?" + +"Shameless and wicked," she answered. "Not ill." She pointed to +the bracelet on the grass. "Take it up; I am not fit to touch it. +Look on the inner side." + +He remembered the inscription: "To Sydney Westerfield, with +Catherine Linley's love." His head sank on his breast; he +understood her at last. "You despise me," he said, "and I deserve +it." + +"No; I despise myself. I have lived among vile people; and I am +vile like them." + +She moved a few steps away with a heavy sigh. "Kitty!" she said +to herself. "Poor little Kitty!" + +He followed her. "Why are you thinking of the child," he asked, +"at such a time as this?" + +She replied without returning or looking round; distrust of +herself had inspired her with terror of Linley, from the time +when the bracelet had dropped on the grass. + +"I can make but one atonement," she said. "We must see each other +no more. I must say good-by to Kitty--I must go. Help me to +submit to my hard lot--I must go." + +He set her no example of resignation; he shrank from the prospect +that she presented to him. + +"Where are you to go if you leave us?" he asked. + +"Away from England! The further away from _you_ the better for +both of us. Help me with your interest; have me sent to the new +world in the west, with other emigrants. Give me something to +look forward to that is not shame and despair. Let me do +something that is innocent and good--I may find a trace of my +poor lost brother. Oh, let me go! Let me go!" + +Her resolution shamed him. He rose to her level, in spite of +himself. + +"I dare not tell you that you are wrong," he said. "I only ask +you to wait a little till we are calmer, before you speak of the +future again." He pointed to the summer-house. "Go in, my poor +girl. Rest, and compose yourself, while I try to think." + +He left her, and paced up and down the formal walks in the +garden. Away from the maddening fascination of her presence, his +mind grew clearer. He resisted the temptation to think of her +tenderly; he set himself to consider what it would be well to do +next. + +The moonlight was seen no more. Misty and starless, the dark sky +spread its majestic obscurity over the earth. Linley looked +wearily toward the eastern heaven. The darkness daunted him; he +saw in it the shadow of his own sense of guilt. The gray +glimmering of dawn, the songs of birds when the pure light softly +climbed the sky, roused and relieved him. With the first radiant +rising of the sun he returned to the summer-house. + +"Do I disturb you?" he asked, waiting at the door. + +"No." + +"Will you come out and speak to me?" + +She appeared at the door, waiting to hear what he had to say to +her. + +"I must ask you to submit to a sacrifice of your own feelings," +he began. "When I kept away from you in the drawing room, last +night--when my strange conduct made you fear that you had +offended me--I was trying to remember what I owed to my good +wife. I have been thinking of her again. We must spare her a +discovery too terrible to be endured, while her attention is +claimed by the guests who are now in the house. In a week's time +they will leave us. Will you consent to keep up appearances? Will +you live with us as usual, until we are left by ourselves?" + +"It shall be done, Mr. Linley. I only ask one favor of you. My +worst enemy is my own miserable wicked heart. Oh, don't you +understand me? I am ashamed to look at you!" + +He had only to examine his own heart, and to know what she meant. +"Say no more," he answered sadly. "We will keep as much away from +each other as we can." + +She shuddered at that open recognition of the guilty love which +united them, in spite of their horror of it, and took refuge from +him in the summer-house. Not a word more passed between them +until the unbarring of doors was heard in the stillness of the +morning, and the smoke began to rise from the kitchen chimney. +Then he returned, and spoke to her. + +"You can get back to the house," he said. "Go up by the front +stairs, and you will not meet the servants at this early hour. If +they do see you, you have your cloak on; they will think you have +been in the garden earlier than usual. As you pass the upper +door, draw back the bolts quietly, and I can let myself in." + +She bent her head in silence. He looked after her as she hastened +away from him over the lawn; conscious of admiring her, conscious +of more than he dared realize to himself. When she disappeared, +he turned back to wait where she had been waiting. With his sense +of the duty he owed to his wife penitently present to his mind, +the memory of that fatal kiss still left its vivid impression on +him. "What a scoundrel I am!" he said to himself as he stood +alone in the summer-house, looking at the chair which she had +just left. + + +Chapter X. + + +Kitty Mentions Her Birthday. + + +A clever old lady, possessed of the inestimable advantages of +worldly experience, must submit nevertheless to the laws of +Nature. Time and Sleep together--powerful agents in the small +hours of the morning--had got the better of Mrs. Presty's +resolution to keep awake. Free from discovery, Sydney ascended +the stairs. Free from discovery, Sydney entered her own room. + +Half-an-hour later, Linley opened the door of his dressing-room. +His wife was still sleeping. His mother-in-law woke two hours +later; looked at her watch; and discovered that she had lost her +opportunity. Other old women, under similar circumstances, might +have felt discouraged. This old woman believed in her own +suspicions more devoutly than ever. When the breakfast-bell rang, +Sydney found Mrs. Presty in the corridor, waiting to say good +morning. + +"I wonder what you were doing last night, when you ought to have +been in bed?" the old lady began, with a treacherous amiability +of manner. "Oh, I am not mistaken! your door was open, my dear, +and I looked in." + +"Why did you look in, Mrs. Presty?" + +"My young friend, I was naturally anxious about you. I am anxious +still. Were you in the house? or out of the house?" + +"I was walking in the garden," Sydney replied. + +"Admiring the moonlight?" + +"Yes; admiring the moonlight." + +"Alone, of course?" Sydney's friend suggested. + +And Sydney took refuge in prevarication. "Why should you doubt +it?" she said. + +Mrs. Presty wasted no more time in asking questions. She was +pleasantly reminded of the words of worldly wisdom which she had +addressed to her daughter on the day of Sydney's arrival at Mount +Morven. "The good qualities of that unfortunate young creature" +(she had said) "can _not_ have always resisted the horrid +temptations and contaminations about her. Hundreds of times she +must have lied through ungovernable fear." Elevated a little +higher than ever in her own estimation, Mrs. Presty took Sydney's +arm, and led her down to breakfast with motherly familiarity. +Linley met them at the foot of the stairs. His mother-in-law +first stole a look at Sydney, and then shook hands with him +cordially. "My dear Herbert, how pale you are! That horrid +smoking. You look as if you had been up all night." + + + +Mrs. Linley paid her customary visit to the schoolroom that +morning. + +The necessary attention to her guests had left little leisure for +the exercise of observation at the breakfast-table; the one +circumstance which had forced itself on her notice had been the +boisterous gayety of her husband. Too essentially honest to +practice deception of any kind cleverly, Linley had overacted the +part of a man whose mind was entirely at ease. The most +unsuspicious woman living, his wife was simply amused "How he +does enjoy society!" she thought. "Herbert will be a young man to +the end of his life." + +In the best possible spirits--still animated by her successful +exertions to entertain her friends--Mrs. Linley opened the +schoolroom door briskly. "How are the lessons getting on?" she +began--and checked herself with a start, "Kitty!" she exclaimed, +"Crying?" + +The child ran to her mother with tears in her eyes. "Look at Syd! +She sulks; she cries; she won't talk to me--send for the doctor." + +"You tiresome child, I don't want the doctor. I'm not ill." + +"There, mamma!" cried Kitty. "She never scolded me before +to-day." + +In other words, here was a complete reversal of the usual order +of things in the schoolroom. Patient Sydney was out of temper; +gentle Sydney spoke bitterly to the little friend whom she loved. +Mrs. Linley drew a chair to the governess's side, and took her +hand. The strangely altered girl tore her hand away and burst +into a violent fit of crying. Puzzled and frightened, Kitty (to +the best of a child's ability) followed her example. Mrs. Linley +took her daughter on her knee, and gave Sydney's outbreak of +agitation time to subside. There were no feverish appearances in +her face, there was no feverish heat in her skin when their hands +had touched each other for a moment. In all probability the +mischief was nervous mischief, and the outburst of weeping was an +hysterical effort at relief. + +"I am afraid, my dear, you have had a bad night," Mrs. Linley +said. + +"Bad? Worse than bad!" + +Sydney stopped; looked at her good mistress and friend in terror; +and made a confused effort to explain away what she had just +said. As sensibly and kindly self-possessed as ever, Mrs. Linley +told her that she only wanted rest and quiet. "Let me take you to +my room," she proposed. "We will have the sofa moved into the +balcony, and you will soon go to sleep in the delicious warm air. +You may put away your books, Kitty; this is a holiday. Come with +me, and be petted and spoiled by the ladies in the morning-room." + +Neither the governess nor the pupil was worthy of the sympathy so +frankly offered to them. Still strangely confused, Sydney made +commonplace apologies and asked leave to go out and walk in the +park. Hearing this, Kitty declared that where her governess went +she would go too. Mrs. Linley smoothed her daughter's pretty +auburn hair, and said, playfully: "I think I ought to be +jealous." To her surprise, Sydney looked up as if the words had +been addressed to herself "You mustn't be fonder, my dear, of +your governess," Mrs. Linley went on, "than you are of your +mother." She kissed the child, and, rising to go, discovered that +Sydney had moved to another part of the room. She was standing at +the piano, with a page of music in her hand. The page was upside +down--and she had placed herself in a position which concealed +her face. Slow as Mrs. Linley was to doubt any person (more +especially a person who interested her), she left the room with a +vague fear of something wrong, and with a conviction that she +would do well to consult her husband. + +Hearing the door close, Sydney looked round. She and Kitty were +alone again; and Kitty was putting away her books without showing +any pleasure at the prospect of a holiday. + +Sydney took the child fondly in her arms. "Would you be very +sorry," she asked, "if I was obliged to go away, some day, and +leave you?" Kitty turned pale with terror at the dreadful +prospect which those words presented. "There! there! I am only +joking," Sydney said, shocked at the effect which her attempt to +suggest the impending separation had produced. "You shall come +with me, darling; we will walk in the park together." + +Kitty's face brightened directly. She proposed extending their +walk to the paddock, and feeding the cows. Sydney readily +consented. Any amusement was welcome to her which diverted the +child's attention from herself. + +They had been nearly an hour in the park, and were returning to +the house through a clump of trees, when Sydney's companion, +running on before her, cried: "Here's papa!" Her first impulse +was to draw back behind a tree, in the hope of escaping notice. +Linley sent Kitty away to gather a nosegay of daisies, and joined +Sydney under the trees. + +"I have been looking for you everywhere," he said. "My wife--" + +Sydney interrupted him. "Discovered!" she exclaimed. + +"There is nothing that need alarm you," he replied. "Catherine is +too good and too true herself to suspect others easily. She sees +a change in you that she doesn't understand--she asks if I have +noticed it--and that is all. But her mother has the cunning of +the devil. There is a serious reason for controlling yourself." + +He spoke so earnestly that he startled her. "Are you angry with +me?" she asked. + +"Angry! Does the man live who could be angry with you?" + +"It might be better for both of us if you _were_ angry with me. I +have to control myself; I will try again. Oh, if you only knew +what I suffer when Mrs. Linley is kind to me!" + +He persisted in trying to rouse her to a sense of the danger that +threatened them, while the visitors remained in the house. "In a +few days, Sydney, there will be no more need for the deceit that +is now forced on us. Till that time comes, remember--Mrs. Presty +suspects us." + +Kitty ran back to them with her hands full of daisies before they +could say more. + +"There is your nosegay, papa. No; I don't want you to thank me--I +want to know what present you are going to give me." Her father's +mind was preoccupied; he looked at her absently. The child's +sense of her own importance was wounded: she appealed to her +governess. "Would you believe it?" she asked. "Papa has forgotten +that next Tuesday is my birthday!" + +"Very well, Kitty; I must pay the penalty of forgetting. What +present would you like to have?" + +"I want a doll's perambulator." + +"Ha! In my time we were satisfied with a doll." + +They all three looked round. Another person had suddenly joined +in the talk. There was no mistaking the person's voice: Mrs. +Presty appeared among the trees, taking a walk in the park. Had +she heard what Linley and the governess had said to each other +while Kitty was gathering daisies? + +"Quite a domestic scene!" the sly old lady remarked. "Papa, +looking like a saint in a picture, with flowers in his hand. +Papa's spoiled child always wanting something, and always getting +it. And papa's governess, so sweetly fresh and pretty that I +should certainly fall in love with her, if I had the advantage of +being a man. You have no doubt remarked Herbert--I think I hear +the bell; shall we go to lunch?--you have no doubt, I say, +remarked what curiously opposite styles Catherine and Miss +Westerfield present; so charming, and yet such complete +contrasts. I wonder whether they occasionally envy each other's +good looks? Does my daughter ever regret that she is not Miss +Westerfield? And do you, my dear, some times wish you were Mrs. +Linley?" + +"While we are about it, let me put a third question," Linley +interposed. "Are you ever aware of it yourself, Mrs. Presty, when +you are talking nonsense?" + +He was angry, and he showed it in that feeble reply. Sydney felt +the implied insult offered to her in another way. It roused her +to the exercise of self-control as nothing had roused her yet. +She ignored Mrs. Presty's irony with a composure worthy of Mrs. +Presty herself. "Where is the woman," she said, "who would _not_ +wish to be as beautiful as Mrs. Linley--and as good?" + +"Thank you, my dear, for a compliment to my daughter: a sincere +compliment, no doubt. It comes in very neatly and nicely," Mrs. +Presty acknowledged, "after my son-in-law's little outbreak of +temper. My poor Herbert, when will you understand that I mean no +harm? I am an essentially humorous person; my wonderful spirits +are always carrying me away. I do assure you, Miss Westerfield, I +don't know what worry is. My troubles--deaths in the family, and +that sort of thing--seem to slip off me in a most remarkable +manner. Poor Mr. Norman used to attribute it to my excellent +digestion. My second husband would never hear of such an +explanation as that. His high ideal of women shrank from +allusions to stomachs. He used to speak so nicely (quoting some +poet) of the sunshine of my breast. Vague, perhaps," said Mrs. +Presty, modestly looking down at the ample prospect of a personal +nature which presented itself below her throat, "but so +flattering to one's feelings. There's the luncheon bell again, I +declare! I'll run on before and tell them you are coming. Some +people might say they wished to be punctual. I am truth itself, +and I own I don't like to be helped to the underside of the fish. +_Au revoir!_ Do you remember, Miss Westerfield, when I asked you +to repeat _au revoir_ as a specimen of your French? I didn't +think much of your accent. Oh, dear me, I didn't think much of +your accent!" + +Kitty looked after her affluent grandmother with eyes that stared +respectfully in ignorant admiration. She pulled her father's +coat-tail, and addressed herself gravely to his private ear. "Oh, +papa, what noble words grandmamma has!" + + + +Chapter Xl. + + + +Linley Asserts His Authority. + + +On the evening of Monday in the new week, the last of the +visitors had left Mount Morven. Mrs. Linley dropped into a chair +(in, what Randal called, "the heavenly tranquillity of the +deserted drawing-room") and owned that the effort of entertaining +her guests had completely worn her out. "It's too absurd, at my +time of life," she said with a faint smile; "but I am really and +truly so tired that I must go to bed before dark, as if I was a +child again." + +Mrs. Presty--maliciously observant of the governess, sitting +silent and apart in a corner--approached her daughter in a hurry; +to all appearance with a special object in view. Linley was at no +loss to guess what that object might be. "Will you do me a favor, +Catherine?" Mrs. Presty began. "I wish to say a word to you in +your own room." + +"Oh, mamma, have some mercy on me, and put it off till +to-morrow!" + +Mrs. Presty reluctantly consented to this proposal, on one +condition. "It is understood," she stipulated "that I am to see +you the first thing in the morning?" + +Mrs. Linley was ready to accept that condition, or any condition, +which promised her a night of uninterrupted repose. She crossed +the room to her husband, and took his arm. "In my state of +fatigue, Herbert, I shall never get up our steep stairs, unless +you help me." + +As they ascended the stairs together, Linley found that his wife +had a reason of her own for leaving the drawing-room. + +"I am quite weary enough to go to bed," she explained. "But I +wanted to speak to you first. It's about Miss Westerfield. (No, +no, we needn't stop on the landing.) Do you know, I think I have +found out what has altered our little governess so strangely--I +seem to startle you?" + +"No." + +"I am only astonished," Mrs. Linley resumed, "at my own stupidity +in not having discovered it before. We must be kinder than ever +to the poor girl now; can't you guess why? My dear, how dull you +are! Must I remind you that we have had two single men among our +visitors? One of them is old and doesn't matter. But the other--I +mean Sir George, of course--is young, handsome, and agreeable. I +am so sorry for Sydney Westerfield. It's plain to me that she is +hopelessly in love with a man who has run through his fortune, +and must marry money if he marries at all. I shall speak to +Sydney to-morrow; and I hope and trust I shall succeed in winning +her confidence. Thank Heaven, here we are at my door at last! I +can't say more now; I'm ready to drop. Good-night, dear; you look +tired, too. It's a nice thing to have friends, I know; but, oh, +what a relief it is sometimes to get rid of them!" + +She kissed him, and let him go. + +Left by himself, to compare his wife's innocent mistake with the +terrible enlightenment that awaited her, Linley's courage failed +him. He leaned on the quaintly-carved rail that protected the +outer side of the landing, and looked down at the stone hall far +below. If the old woodwork (he thought) would only give way under +his weight, there would be an escape from the coming catastrophe, +found in an instant. + +A timely remembrance of Sydney recalled him to himself. For her +sake, he was bound to prevent Mrs. Presty's contemplated +interview with his wife on the next morning. + +Descending the stairs, he met his brother in the corridor on the +first floor. + +"The very man I want to see," Randal said. "Tell me, Herbert, +what is the matter with that curious old woman?" + +"Do you mean Mrs. Presty?" + +"Yes. She has just been telling me that our friend Mrs. MacEdwin +has taken a fancy to Miss Westerfield, and would be only too glad +to deprive us of our pretty governess." + +"Did Mrs. Presty say that in Miss Westerfield's presence?" + +"No. Soon after you and Catherine left the room, Miss Westerfield +left it too. I daresay I am wrong, for I haven't had time to +think of it; but Mrs. Presty's manner suggested to me that she +would be glad to see the poor girl sent out of the house." + +"I am going to speak to her, Randal, on that very subject. Is she +still in the drawing-room?" + +"Yes." + +"Did she say anything more to you?" + +"I didn't give her the chance; I don't like Mrs. Presty. You look +worn and worried, Herbert. Is there anything wrong?" + +"If there is, my dear fellow, you will hear of it tomorrow." + +So they parted. + +Comfortably established in the drawing-room, Mrs. Presty had just +opened her favorite newspaper. Her only companion was Linley's +black poodle, resting at her feet. On the opening of the door, +the dog rose--advanced to caress his master--and looked up in +Linley's face. If Mrs. Presty's attention had happened to be +turned that way, she might have seen, in the faithful creature's +sudden and silent retreat, a warning of her son-in-law's humor at +that moment. But she was, or assumed to be, interested in her +reading; and she deliberately overlooked Linley's appearance. +After waiting a little to attract her attention, he quietly took +the newspaper out of her hand. + +"What does this mean?" Mrs. Presty asked. + +"It means, ma'am, that I have something to say to you." + +"Apparently, something that can't be said with common civility? +Be as rude as you please; I am well used to it." + +Linley wisely took no notice of this. + +"Since you have lived at Mount Morven," he proceeded, "I think +you have found me, on the whole, an easy man to get on with. At +the same time, when I do make up my mind to be master +in my own house, I _am_ master." + +Mrs. Presty crossed her hands placidly on her lap, and asked: +"Master of what?" + +"Master of your suspicions of Miss Westerfield. You are free, of +course, to think of her and of me as you please. What I forbid is +the expression of your thoughts--either by way of hints to my +brother, or officious communications with my wife. Don't suppose +that I am afraid of the truth. Mrs. Linley shall know more than +you think for, and shall know it to-morrow; not from you, but +from me." + +Mrs. Presty shook her head compassionately. "My good sir, surely +you know me too well to think that I am to be disposed of in that +easy way? Must I remind you that your wife's mother has 'the +cunning of the devil'?" + +Linley recognized his own words. "So you were listening among the +trees!" he said. + +"Yes; I was listening; and I have only to regret that I didn't +hear more. Let us return to our subject. I don't trust my +daughter's interests--my much-injured daughter's interests--in +your hands. They are not clean hands, Mr. Linley. I have a duty +to do; and I shall do it to-morrow." + +"No, Mrs. Presty, you won't do it to-morrow." + +"Who will prevent me?" + +"I shall prevent you." + +"In what way, if you please?" + +"I don't think it necessary to answer that question. My servants +will have their instructions; and I shall see myself that my +orders are obeyed." + +"Thank you. I begin to understand; I am to be turned out of the +house. Very well. We shall see what my daughter says." + +"You know as well as I do, Mrs. Presty, that if your daughter is +forced to choose between us she will decide for her husband. You +have the night before you for consideration. I have no more to +say." + +Among Mrs. Presty's merits, it is only just to reckon a capacity +for making up her mind rapidly, under stress of circumstances. +Before Linley had opened the door, on his way out, he was called +back. + +"I am shocked to trouble you again," Mrs. Presty said, "but I +don't propose to interfere with my night's rest by thinking about +_you_. My position is perfectly clear to me, without wasting time +in consideration. When a man so completely forgets what is due to +the weaker sex as to threaten a woman, the woman has no +alternative but to submit. You are aware that I had arranged to +see my daughter to-morrow morning. I yield to brute force, sir. +Tell your wife that I shall not keep my appointment. Are you +satisfied?" + +"Quite satisfied," Linley said--and left the room. + +His mother-in-law looked after him with a familiar expression of +opinion, and a smile of supreme contempt. + +"You fool!" + +Only two words; and yet there seemed to be some hidden meaning in +them--relating perhaps to what might happen on the next +day--which gently tickled Mrs. Presty in the region assigned by +phrenologists to the sense of self-esteem. + + + +Chapter XII. + + +Two of Them Sleep Badly. + +Waiting for Sydney to come into the bedroom as usual and wish her +good-night, Kitty was astonished by the appearance of her +grandmother, entering on tiptoe from the corridor, with a small +paper parcel in her hand. + +"Whisper!" said Mrs. Presty, pointing to the open door of +communication with Mrs. Linley's room. "This is your birthday +present. You mustn't look at it till you wake to-morrow morning." +She pushed the parcel under the pillow--and, instead of saying +good-night, took a chair and sat down. + +"May I show my present," Kitty asked, "when I go to mamma in the +morning?" + +The present hidden under the paper wrapper was a sixpenny +picture-book. Kitty's grandmother disapproved of spending money +lavishly on birthday gifts to children. "Show it, of course; and +take the greatest care of it," Mrs. Presty answered gravely. "But +tell me one thing, my dear, wouldn't you like to see all your +presents early in the morning, like mine?" + +Still smarting under the recollection of her interview with her +son-in-law, Mrs. Presty had certain ends to gain in putting this +idea into the child's head. It was her special object to raise +domestic obstacles to a private interview between the husband and +wife during the earlier hours of the day. If the gifts, usually +presented after the nursery dinner, were produced on this +occasion after breakfast, there would be a period of delay before +any confidential conversation could take place between Mr. and +Mrs. Linley. In this interval Mrs. Presty saw her opportunity of +setting Linley's authority at defiance, by rousing the first +jealous suspicion in the mind of his wife. + +Innocent little Kitty became her grandmother's accomplice on the +spot. "I shall ask mamma to let me have my presents at +breakfast-time," she announced. + +"And kind mamma will say Yes," Mrs. Presty chimed in. "We will +breakfast early, my precious child. Good-night." + +Kitty was half asleep when her governess entered the room +afterward, much later than usual. "I thought you had forgotten +me," she said, yawning and stretching out her plump little arms. + +Sydney's heart ached when she thought of the separation that was +to come with the next day; her despair forced its way to +expression in words. + +"I wish I could forget you," she answered, in reckless +wretchedness. + +The child was still too drowsy to hear plainly. "What did you +say?" she asked. Sydney gently lifted her in the bed, and kissed +her again and again. Kitty's sleepy eyes opened in surprise. "How +cold your hands are!" she said; "and how often you kiss me. What +is it you have come to say to me--good-night or good-by?" + +Sydney laid her down again on the pillow, gave her a last kiss, +and ran out of the room. + +In the corridor she heard Linley's voice on the lower floor. He +was asking one of the servants if Miss Westerfield was in the +house or in the garden. Her first impulse was to advance to the +stairs and to answer his question. In a moment more the +remembrance of Mrs. Linley checked her. She went back to her +bed-chamber. The presents that she had received, since her +arrival at Mount Morven, were all laid out so that they could be +easily seen by any person entering the room, after she had left +the house. On the sofa lay the pretty new dress which she had +worn at the evening party. Other little gifts were arranged on +either side of it. The bracelet, resting on the pedestal of a +statue close by, kept a morsel of paper in its place--on which +she had written a few penitent words of farewell addressed to +Mrs. Linley. On the toilet-table three photographic portraits +showed themselves among the brushes and combs. She sat down, and +looked first at the likenesses of Mrs. Linley and Kitty. + +Had she any right to make those dear faces her companions in the +future? + +She hesitated; her tears dropped on the photographs. "They're as +good as spoiled now," she thought; "they're no longer fit for +anybody but me." She paused, and abruptly took up the third and +last photograph--the likeness of Herbert Linley. + +Was it an offense, now, even to look at his portrait? No idea of +leaving it behind her was in her mind. Her resolution vibrated +between two miseries--the misery of preserving her keep-sake +after she had parted from him forever, and the misery of +destroying it. Resigned to one more sacrifice, she took the card +in both hands to tear it up. It would have been scattered in +pieces on the floor, but for the chance which had turned the +portrait side of the card toward her instead of the back. Her +longing eyes stole a last look at him--a frenzy seized her--she +pressed her lips to the photograph in a passion of hopeless love. +"What does it matter?" she asked herself. "I'm nothing but the +ignorant object of his kindness--the poor fool who could see no +difference between gratitude and love. Where is the harm of +having him with me when I am starving in the streets, or dying in +the workhouse?" The fervid spirit in her that had never known a +mother's loving discipline, never thrilled to the sympathy of a +sister-friend, rose in revolt against the evil destiny which had +imbittered her life. Her eyes still rested on the photograph. +"Come to my heart, my only friend, and kill me!" As those wild +words escaped her, she thrust the card furiously into the bosom +of her dress--and threw herself on the floor. There was something +in the mad self-abandonment of that action which mocked the +innocent despair of her childhood, on the day when her mother +left her at the cruel mercy of her aunt. + +That night was a night of torment in secret to another person at +Mount Morven. + +Wandering, in his need of self-isolation, up and down the dreary +stone passages in the lower part of the house, Linley counted the +hours, inexorably lessening the interval between him and the +ordeal of confession to his wife. As yet, he had failed to find +the opportunity of addressing to Sydney the only words of +encouragement he could allow to pass his lips: he had asked for +her earlier in the evening, and nobody could tell him where she +was. Still in ignorance of the refuge which she might by bare +possibility hope to find in Mrs. MacEdwin's house, Sydney was +spared the torturing doubts which now beset Herbert Linley's +mind. Would the noble woman whom they had injured allow their +atonement to plead for them, and consent to keep their miserable +secret? Might they still put their trust in that generous nature +a few hours hence? Again and again those questions confronted +Linley; and again and again he shrank from attempting to answer +them. + + + +Chapter XIII. + + +Kitty Keeps Her Birthday. + +They were all assembled as usual at the breakfast-table. + +Preferring the request suggested to her by Mrs. Presty, Kitty had +hastened the presentation of the birthday gifts, by getting into +her mother's bed in the morning, and exacting her mother's +promise before she would consent to get out again. By her own +express wish, she was left in ignorance of what the presents +would prove to be. "Hide them from me," said this young epicure +in pleasurable sensations, "and make me want to see them until I +can bear it no longer." The gifts had accordingly been collected +in an embrasure of one of the windows; and the time had now +arrived when Kitty could bear it no longer. + +In the procession of the presents, Mrs. Linley led the way. + +She had passed behind the screen which had thus far protected the +hidden treasures from discovery, and appeared again with a vision +of beauty in the shape of a doll. The dress of this wonderful +creature exhibited the latest audacities of French fashion. Her +head made a bow; her eyes went to sleep and woke again; she had a +voice that said two words--more precious than two thousand in the +mouth of a mere living creature. Kitty's arms opened and embraced +her gift with a scream of ecstasy. That fervent pressure found +its way to the right spring. The doll squeaked: "Mamma!"--and +creaked--and cried again--and said: "Papa!" Kitty sat down on the +floor; her legs would support her no longer. "I think I shall +faint," she said quite seriously. + +In the midst of the general laughter, Sydney silently placed a +new toy (a pretty little imitation of a jeweler's casket) at +Kitty's side, and drew back before the child could look at her. +Mrs. Presty was the only person present who noticed her pale face +and the trembling of her hands as she made the effort which +preserved her composure. + +The doll's necklace, bracelets, and watch and chain, riveted +Kitty's attention on the casket. Just as she thought of looking +round for her dear Syd, her father produced a new outburst of +delight by presenting a perambulator worthy of the doll. Her +uncle followed with a parasol, devoted to the preservation of the +doll's complexion when she went out for an airing. Then there +came a pause. Where was the generous grandmother's gift? Nobody +remembered it; Mrs. Presty herself discovered the inestimable +sixpenny picture-book cast away and forgotten on a distant +window-seat. "I have a great mind to keep this," she said to +Kitty, "till you are old enough to value it properly." In the +moment of her absence at the window, Linley's mother-in-law lost +the chance of seeing him whisper to Sydney. "Meet me in the +shrubbery in half an hour," he said. She stepped back from him, +startled by the proposal. When Mrs. Presty was in the middle of +the room again, Linley and the governess were no longer near each +other. + +Having by this time recovered herself, Kitty got on her legs. +"Now," the spoiled child declared, addressing the company +present, "I'm going to play." + +The doll was put into the perambulator, and was wheeled about the +room, while Mrs. Linley moved the chairs out of the way, and +Randal attended with the open parasol--under orders to "pretend +that the sun was shining." Once more the sixpenny picture-book +was neglected. Mrs. Presty picked it up from the floor, +determined by this time to hold it in reserve until her +ungrateful grandchild reached years of discretion. She put it in +the bookcase between Byron's "Don Juan" and Butler's "Lives of +the Saints." In the position which she now occupied, Linley was +visible approaching Sydney again. "Your own interests are +seriously concerned," he whispered, "in something that I have to +tell you." + +Incapable of hearing what passed between them, Mrs. Presty could +see that a secret understanding united her son-in-law and the +governess. She looked round cautiously at Mrs. Linley. + +Kitty's humor had changed; she was now eager to see the doll's +splendid clothes taken off and put on again. "Come and look at +it," she said to Sydney; "I want you to enjoy my birthday as much +as I do." Left by himself, Randal got rid of the parasol by +putting it on a table near the door. Mrs. Presty beckoned to him +to join her at the further end of the room. + +"I want you to do me a favor," she began. + +Glancing at Linley before she proceeded, Mrs. Presty took up a +newspaper, and affected to be consulting Randal's opinion on a +passage which had attracted her attention. "Your brother is +looking our way," she whispered: "he mustn't suspect that there +is a secret between us." + +False pretenses of any kind invariably irritated Randal. "What do +you want me to do?" he asked sharply. + +The reply only increased his perplexity. + +"Observe Miss Westerfield and your brother. Look at them now." + +Randal obeyed. + +"What is there to look at?" he inquired. + +"Can't you see?" + +"I see they are talking to each other." + +"They are talking confidentially; talking so that Mrs. Linley +can't hear them. Look again." + +Randal fixed his eyes on Mrs. Presty, with an expression which +showed his dislike of that lady a little too plainly. Before he +could answer what she had just said to him, his lively little +niece hit on a new idea. The sun was shining, the flowers were in +their brightest beauty--and the doll had not yet been taken into +the garden! Kitty at once led the way out; so completely +preoccupied in steering the perambulator in a straight course +that she forgot her uncle and the parasol. Only waiting to remind +her husband and Sydney that they were wasting the beautiful +summer morning indoors, Mrs. Linley followed her daughter--and +innocently placed a fatal obstacle in Mrs. Presty's way by +leaving the room. Having consulted each other by a look, Linley +and the governess went out next. Left alone with Randal, Mrs. +Presty's anger, under the complete overthrow of her +carefully-laid scheme, set restraint at defiance. + +"My daughter's married life is a wreck," she burst out, pointing +theatrically to the door by which Linley and Sydney Westerfield +had retired. "And Catherine has the vile creature whom your +brother picked up in London to thank for it! Now do you +understand me?" + +"Less than ever," Randal answered--"unless you have taken leave +of your senses." + +Mrs. Presty recovered the command of her temper. + +On that fine morning her daughter might remain in the garden +until the luncheon-bell rang. Linley had only to say that he +wished to speak with his wife; and the private interview which he +had so rudely insisted on as his sole privilege, would assuredly +take place. The one chance left of still defeating him on his own +ground was to force Randal to interfere by convincing him of his +brother's guilt. Moderation of language and composure of manner +offered the only hopeful prospect of reaching this end. Mrs. +Presty assumed the disguise of patient submission, and used the +irresistible influence of good humor and good sense. + +"I don't complain, dear Randal, of what you have said to me," she +replied. "My indiscretion has deserved it. I ought to have +produced my proofs, and have left it to you to draw the +conclusion. Sit down, if you please. I won't detain you for more +than a few minutes." + +Randal had not anticipated such moderation as this; he took the +chair that was nearest to Mrs. Presty. They were both now sitting +with their backs turned to the entrance from the library to the +drawing-room. + +"I won't trouble you with my own impressions," Mrs. Presty went +on. "I will be careful only to mention what I have seen and +heard. If you refuse to believe me, I refer you to the guilty +persons themselves." + +She had just got to the end of those introductory words when Mrs. +Linley returned, by way of the library, to fetch the forgotten +parasol. + +Randal insisted on making Mrs. Presty express herself plainly. +"You speak of guilty persons," he said. "Am I to understand that +one of those guilty persons is my brother?" + +Mrs. Linley advanced a step and took the parasol from the table. +Hearing what Randal said, she paused, wondering at the strange +allusion to her husband. In the meanwhile, Mrs. Presty answered +the question that had been addressed to her. + +"Yes," she said to Randal; "I mean your brother, and your +brother's mistress--Sydney Westerfield." + +Mrs. Linley laid the parasol back on the table, and approached +them. + +She never once looked at her mother; her face, white and rigid, +was turned toward Randal. To him, and to him only, she spoke. + +"What does my mother's horrible language mean?" she asked. + +Mrs. Presty triumphed inwardly; chance had decided in her favor, +after all! "Don't you see," she said to her daughter, "that I am +here to answer for myself?" + +Mrs. Linley still looked at Randal, and still spoke to him. "It +is impossible for me to insist on an explanation from my mother," +she proceeded. "No matter what I may feel, I must remember that +she _is_ my mother. I ask you again--you who have been listening +to her--what does she mean?" + +Mrs. Presty's sense of her own importance refused to submit to +being passed over in this way. + +"However insolently you may behave, Catherine, you will not +succeed in provoking me. Your mother is bound to open your eyes +to the truth. You have a rival in your husband's affections; and +that rival is your governess. Take your own course now; I have no +more to say." With her head high in the air--looking the picture +of conscious virtue--the old lady walked out. + +At the same moment Randal seized his first opportunity of +speaking. + +He addressed himself gently and respectfully to his +sister-in-law. She refused to hear him. The indignation which +Mrs. Presty had roused in her made no allowances, and was blind +to all sense of right. + +"Don't trouble yourself to account for your silence," she said, +most unjustly. "You were listening to my mother without a word of +remonstrance when I came into the room. You are concerned in this +vile slander, too." + +Randal considerately refrained from provoking her by attempting +to defend himself, while she was incapable of understanding him. +"You will be sorry when you find that you have misjudged me," he +said, and sighed, and left her. + +She dropped into a chair. If there was any one distinct thought +in her at that moment, it was the thought of her husband. She was +eager to see him; she longed to say to him: "My love, I don't +believe a word of it!" He was not in the garden when she had +returned for the parasol; and Sydney was not in the garden. +Wondering what had become of her father and her governess, Kitty +had asked the nursemaid to look for them. What had happened +since? Where had they been found? After some hesitation, Mrs. +Linley sent for the nursemaid. She felt the strongest reluctance, +when the girl appeared, to approach the very inquiries which she +was interested in making. + +"Have you found Mr. Linley?" she said--with an effort. + +"Yes, ma'am." + +"Where did you find him?" + +"In the shrubbery." + +"Did your master say anything?" + +"I slipped away, ma'am, before he saw me." + +"Why?" + +"Miss Westerfield was in the shrubbery, with my master. I might +have been mistaken--" The girl paused, and looked confused. + +Mrs. Linley tried to tell her to go on. The words were in her +mind; but the capacity of giving expression to them failed her. +She impatiently made a sign. The sign was understood. + +"I might have been mistaken," the maid repeated--"but I thought +Miss Westerfield was crying." + +Having replied in those terms, she seemed to be anxious to get +away. The parasol caught her eye. "Miss Kitty wants this," she +said, "and wonders why you have not gone back to her in the +garden. May I take the parasol?" + +"Take it." + +The tone of the mistress's voice was completely changed. The +servant looked at her with vague misgivings. "Are you not well, +ma'am?" + +"Quite well." + +The servant withdrew. + +Mrs. Linley's chair happened to be near one of the windows, which +commanded a view of the drive leading to the main entrance of the +house. A carriage had just arrived bringing holiday travelers to +visit that part of Mount Morven which was open to strangers. She +watched them as they got out, talking and laughing, and looking +about them. Still shrinking instinctively from the first doubt of +Herbert that had ever entered her mind, she found a refuge from +herself in watching the ordinary events of the day. One by one +the tourists disappeared under the portico of the front door. The +empty carriage was driven away next, to water the horses at the +village inn. Solitude was all she could see from the windows; +silence, horrible silence, surrounded her out of doors and in. +The thoughts from which she recoiled forced their way back into +her mind; the narrative of the nursemaid's discovery became a +burden on her memory once more. She considered the circumstances. +In spite of herself, she considered the circumstances again. Her +husband and Sydney Westerfield together in the shrubbery--and +Sydney crying. Had Mrs. Presty's abominable suspicion of them +reached their ears? or?--No! that second possibility might be +estimated at its right value by any other woman; not by Herbert +Linley's wife. + +She snatched up the newspaper, and fixed her eyes on it in the +hope of fixing her mind on it next. Obstinately, desperately, she +read without knowing what she was reading. The lines of print +were beginning to mingle and grow dim, when she was startled by +the sudden opening of the door. She looked round. + +Her husband entered the room. + + +Chapter XIV. + + +Kitty Feels the Heartache. + + +Linley advanced a few steps--and stopped. + +His wife, hurrying eagerly to meet him, checked herself. It might +have been distrust, or it might have been unreasoning fear--she +hesitated on the point of approaching him. + +"I have something to say, Catherine, which I'm afraid will +distress you." + +His voice faltered, his eyes rested on her--then looked away +again. He said no more. + +He had spoken a few commonplace words--and yet he had said +enough. She saw the truth in his eyes, heard the truth in his +voice. A fit of trembling seized her. Linley stepped forward, in +the fear that she might fall. She instantly controlled herself, +and signed to him to keep back. "Don't touch me!" she said. "You +come from Miss Westerfield!" + +That reproach roused him. + +"I own that I come from Miss Westerfield," he answered. "She +addresses a request to you through me." + +"I refuse to grant it." + +"Hear it first." + +"No!" + +"Hear it--in your own interest. She asks permission to leave the +house, never to return again. While she is still innocent--" + +His wife eyed him with a look of unutterable contempt. He +submitted to it, but not in silence. + +"A man doesn't lie, Catherine, who makes such a confession as I +am making now. Miss Westerfield offers the one atonement in her +power, while she is still innocent of having wronged you--except +in thought." + +"Is that all?" Mrs. Linley asked. + +"It rests with you," he replied, "to say if there is any other +sacrifice of herself which will be more acceptable to you." + +"Let me understand first what the sacrifice means. Does Miss +Westerfield make any conditions?" + +"She has positively forbidden me to make conditions." + +"And goes out into the world, helpless and friendless?" + +"Yes ." + +Even under the terrible trial that wrung her, the nobility of the +woman's nature spoke in her next words. + +"Give me time to think of what you have said," she pleaded. "I +have led a happy life; I am not used to suffer as I am suffering +now." + +They were both silent. Kitty's voice was audible on the stairs +that led to the picture-gallery, disputing with the maid. Neither +her father nor her mother heard her. + +"Miss Westerfield is innocent of having wronged me, except in +thought," Mrs. Linley resumed. "Do you tell me that on your word +of honor?" + +"On my word of honor." + +So far his wife was satisfied. "My governess," she said, "might +have deceived me--she has not deceived me. I owe it to her to +remember that. She shall go, but not helpless and not +friendless." + +Her husband forgot the restraints he had imposed on himself. + +"Is there another woman in the world like you!" he exclaimed. + +"Many other women," she answered, firmly. "A vulgar termagant, +feeling a sense of injury, finds relief in an outburst of +jealousy and a furious quarrel. You have always lived among +ladies. Surely you ought to know that a wife in my position, who +respects herself, restrains herself. I try to remember what I owe +to others as well as what they owe to me." + +She approached the writing table, and took up a pen. + +Feeling his position acutely, Linley refrained from openly +admiring her generosity. Until he had deserved to be forgiven, he +had forfeited the right to express an opinion on her conduct. She +misinterpreted his silence. As she understood it, he appreciated +an act of self-sacrifice on Miss Westerfield's side--but he had +no word of encouragement for an act of self-sacrifice on his +wife's side. She threw down the pen, with the first outbreak of +anger that had escaped her yet. + +"You have spoken for the governess," she said to him. "I haven't +heard yet, sir, what you have to say for yourself. Is it you who +tempted her? You know how gratefully she feels toward you--have +you perverted her gratitude, and led her blindfold to love? +Cruel, cruel, cruel! Defend yourself if you can." + +He made no reply. + +"Is it not worth your while to defend yourself?" she burst out, +passionately. "Your silence is an insult!" + +"My silence is a confession," he answered, sadly. "_She_ may +accept your mercy--I may not even hope for it." + +Something in the tone of his voice reminded her of past days--the +days of perfect love and perfect confidence, when she had been +the one woman in the world to him. Dearly treasured remembrances +of her married life filled her heart with tenderness, and dimmed +with tears the angry light that had risen in her eyes. There was +no pride, no anger, in his wife when she spoke to him now. + +"Oh, my husband, has she taken your love from me?" + +"Judge for yourself, Catherine, if there is no proof of my love +for you in what I have resisted--and no remembrance of all that I +owe to you in what I have confessed." + +She ventured a little nearer to him. "Can I believe you?" + +"Put me to the test." + +She instantly took him at his word. "When Miss Westerfield has +left us, promise not to see her again." + +"I promise." + +"And not even to write to her." + +"I promise." + +She went back to the writing-table. "My heart is easier," she +said, simply. "I can be merciful to her now." + +After writing a few lines, she rose and handed the paper to him. +He looked up from it in surprise. "Addressed to Mrs. MacEdwin!" +he said. + +"Addressed," she answered, "to the only person I know who feels a +true interest in Miss Westerfield. Have you not heard of it?" + +"I remember," he said--and read the lines that followed: + +"I recommend Miss Westerfield as a teacher of young children, +having had ample proof of her capacity, industry, and good temper +while she has been governess to my child. She leaves her +situation in my service under circumstances which testify to her +sense of duty and her sense of gratitude." + +"Have I said," she asked, "more than I could honorably and truly +say--even after what has happened?" + +He could only look at her; no words could have spoken for him as +his silence spoke for him at that moment. When she took back the +written paper there was pardon in her eyes already. + +The last worst trial remained to be undergone; she faced it +resolutely. "Tell Miss Westerfield that I wish to see her." + +On the point of leaving the room, Herbert was called back. "If +you happen to meet with my mother," his wife added, "will you ask +her to come to me?" + +Mrs. Presty knew her daughter's nature; Mrs. Presty had been +waiting near at hand, in expectation of the message which she now +received. + +Tenderly and respectfully, Mrs. Linley addressed herself to her +mother. "When we last met, I thought you spoke rashly and +cruelly. I know now that there was truth--_some_ truth, let me +say--in what offended me at the time. If you felt strongly, it +was for my sake. I wish to beg your pardon; I was hasty, I was +wrong." + +On an occasion when she had first irritated and then surprised +him, Randal Linley had said to Mrs. Presty, "You have got a +heart, after all!" Her reply to her daughter showed that view of +her character to be the right one. "Say no more, my dear," she +answered "_I_ was hasty; _I_ was wrong." + +The words had barely fallen from her lips, before Herbert +returned. He was followed by Sydney Westerfield. + +The governess stopped in the middle of the room. Her head sank on +her breast; her quick convulsive breathing was the only sound +that broke the silence. Mrs. Linley advanced to the place in +which Sydney stood. There was something divine in her beauty as +she looked at the shrinking girl, and held out her hand. + +Sydney fell on her knees. In silence she lifted that generous +hand to her lips. In silence, Mrs. Linley raised her--took the +writing which testified to her character from the table--and +presented it. Linley looked at his wife, looked at the governess. +He waited--and still neither the one nor the other uttered a +word. It was more than he could endure. He addressed himself to +Sydney first. + +"Try to thank Mrs. Linley," he said. + +She answered faintly: "I can't speak!" + +He appealed to his wife next. "Say a last kind word to her," he +pleaded. + +She made an effort, a vain effort to obey him. A gesture of +despair answered for her as Sydney had answered: "I can't speak!" + +True, nobly true, to the Christian virtue that repents, to the +Christian virtue that forgives, those three persons stood +together on the brink of separation, and forced their frail +humanity to suffer and submit. + +In mercy to the woman, Linley summoned the courage to part them. +He turned to his wife first. + +"I may say, Catherine, that she has your good wishes for happier +days to come?" + +Mrs. Linley pressed his hand. + +He approached Sydney, and gave his wife's message. It was in his +heart to add something equally kind on his own part. He could +only say what we have all said--how sincerely, how sorrowfully, +we all know--the common word, "Good-by!"--the common wish, "God +bless you!" + +At that last moment the child ran into the room, in search of her +mother. + +There was a low murmur of horror at the sight of her. That +innocent heart, they had all hoped, might have been spared the +misery of the parting scene! + +She saw that Sydney had her hat and cloak on. "You're dressed to +go out," she said. Sydney turned away to hide her face. It was +too late; Kitty had seen the tears. "Oh, my darling, you're not +going away!" She looked at her father and mother. "Is she going +away?" They were afraid to answer her. With all her little +strength, she clasped her beloved friend and play-fellow round +the waist. "My own dear, you're not going to leave me!" The dumb +misery in Sydney's face struck Linley with horror. He placed +Kitty in her mother's arms. The child's piteous cry, "Oh, don't +let her go! don't let her go!" followed the governess as she +suffered her martyrdom, and went out. Linley's heart ached; he +watched her until she was lost to view. "Gone!" he murmured to +himself--"gone forever!" + +Mrs. Presty heard him, and answered him:--"She'll come back +again!" + + + +SECOND BOOK + + +Chapter XV. + + +The Doctor. + + +As the year advanced, the servants at Mount Morven remarked that +the weeks seemed to follow each other more slowly than usual. In +the higher regions of the house, the same impression was +prevalent; but the sense of dullness among the gentlefolks +submitted to circumstances in silence. + +If the question had been asked in past days: Who is the brightest +and happiest member of the family? everybody would have said: +Kitty. If the question had been asked at the present time, +differences of opinion might have suggested different +answers--but the whole household would have refrained without +hesitation from mentioning the child's name. + +Since Sydney Westerfield's departure Kitty had never held up her +head. + +Time quieted the child's first vehement outbreak of distress +under the loss of the companion whom she had so dearly loved. +Delicate management, gently yet resolutely applied, held the +faithful little creature in check, when she tried to discover the +cause of her governess's banishment from the house. She made no +more complaints; she asked no more embarrassing questions--but it +was miserably plain to everybody about her that she failed to +recover her spirits. She was willing to learn her lessons (but +not under another governess) when her mother was able to attend +to her: she played with her toys, and went out riding on her +pony. But the delightful gayety of other days was gone; the +shrill laughter that once rang through the house was heard no +more. Kitty had become a quiet child; and, worse still, a child +who seemed to be easily tired. + +The doctor was consulted. + +He was a man skilled in the sound medical practice that learns +its lessons without books--bedside practice. His opinion declared +that the child's vital power was seriously lowered. "Some cause +is at work here," he said to the mother, "which I don't +understand. Can you help me?" Mrs. Linley helped him without +hesitation. "My little daughter dearly loved her governess; and +her governess has been obliged to leave us." That was her reply. +The doctor wanted to hear no more; he at once advised that Kitty +should be taken to the seaside, and that everything which might +remind her of the absent friend--books, presents, even articles +of clothing likely to revive old associations--should be left at +home. A new life, in new air. When pen, ink, and paper were +offered to him, that was the doctor's prescription. + +Mrs. Linley consulted her husband on the choice of the seaside +place to which the child should be removed. + +The blank which Sydney's departure left in the life of the +household was felt by the master and mistress of Mount +Morven--and felt, unhappily, without any open avowal on either +side of what was passing in their minds. In this way the +governess became a forbidden subject between them; the husband +waited for the wife to set the example of approaching it, and the +wife waited for the husband. The trial of temper produced by this +state of hesitation, and by the secret doubts which it +encouraged, led insensibly to a certain estrangement--which +Linley in particular was morbidly unwilling to acknowledge. If, +when the dinner-hour brought them together, he was silent and +dull in his wife's presence, he attributed it to anxiety on the +subject of his brother--then absent on a critical business errand +in London. If he sometimes left the house the first thing in the +morning, and only returned at night, it was because the +management of the model farm had become one of his duties, in +Randal's absence. Mrs. Linley made no attempt to dispute this +view of the altered circumstances in home-life--but she submitted +with a mind ill at ease. Secretly fearing that Linley was +suffering under Miss Westerfield's absence, she allowed herself +to hope that Kitty's father would see a necessity, in his own +case, for change of scene, and would accompany them to the +seaside. + +"Won't you come with us, Herbert?" she suggested, when they had +both agreed on the choice of a place. + +His temper was in a state of constant irritation. Without meaning +it he answered her harmless question sharply. + +"How can I go away with you, when we are losing by the farm, and +when there is nobody to check the ruinous expenses but myself?" + +Mrs. Linley's thoughts naturally turned to Randal's prolonged +absence. "What can be keeping him all this time in London?" she +said. + +Linley's failing patience suffered a severe trial. + +"Don't you know," he broke out, "that I have inherited my poor +mother's property in England, saddled with a lawsuit? Have you +never heard of delays and disappointments, and quibbles and false +pretenses, encountered by unfortunate wretches like me who are +obliged to go to law? God only knows when Randal will be free to +return, or what bad news he may bring with him when he does come +back." + +"You have many anxieties, Herbert; and I ought to have remembered +them." + +That gentle answer touched him. He made the best apology in his +power: he said his nerves were out of order, and asked her to +excuse him if he had spoken roughly. There was no unfriendly +feeling on either side; and yet there was something wanting in +the reconciliation. Mrs. Linley left her husband, shaken by a +conflict of feelings. At one moment she felt angry with him; at +another she felt angry with herself. + +With the best intentions (as usual) Mrs. Presty made mischief, +nevertheless. Observing that her daughter was in tears, and +feeling sincerely distressed by the discovery, she was eager to +administer consolation. "Make your mind easy, my dear, if you +have any doubt about Herbert's movements when he is away from +home. I followed him myself the day before yesterday when he went +out. A long walk for an old woman--but I can assure you that +he does really go to the farm." + +Implicitly trusting her husband--and rightly trusting +him--Linley's wife replied by a look which Mrs. Presty received +in silent indignation. She summoned her dignity and marched out +of the room. + +Five minutes afterward, Mrs. Linley received an intimation that +her mother was seriously offended, in the form of a little note: + +"I find that my maternal interest in your welfare, and my devoted +efforts to serve you, are only rewarded with furious looks. The +less we see of each other the better. Permit me to thank you for +your invitation, and to decline accompanying you when you leave +Mount Morven tomorrow." Mrs. Linley answered the note in person. +The next day Kitty's grandmother--ripe for more mischief--altered +her mind, and thoroughly enjoyed her journey to the seaside. + + +Chapter XVI. + + +The Child. + + +During the first week there was an improvement in the child's +health, which justified the doctor's hopeful anticipations. Mrs. +Linley wrote cheerfully to her husband; and the better nature of +Mrs. Linley's mother seemed, by some inscrutable process, to +thrive morally under the encouraging influences of the sea air. +It may be a bold thing to say, but it is surely true that our +virtues depend greatly on the state of our health. + +During the second week, the reports sent to Mount Morven were +less encouraging. The improvement in Kitty was maintained; but it +made no further progress. + +The lapse of the third week brought with it depressing results. +There could be no doubt now that the child was losing ground. +Bitterly disappointed, Mrs. Linley wrote to her medical adviser, +describing the symptoms, and asking for instructions. The doctor +wrote back: "Find out where your supply of drinking water comes +from. If from a well, let me know how it is situated. Answer by +telegraph." The reply arrived: "A well near the parish church." +The doctor's advice ran back along the wires: "Come home +instantly." + +They returned the same day--and they returned too late. + +Kitty's first night at home was wakeful and restless; her little +hands felt feverish, and she was tormented by perpetual thirst. +The good doctor still spoke hopefully; attributing the symptoms +to fatigue after the journey. But, as the days followed each +other, his medical visits were paid at shorter intervals. The +mother noticed that his pleasant face became grave and anxious, +and implored him to tell her the truth. The truth was told in two +dreadful words: "Typhoid Fever." + +A day or two later, the doctor spoke privately with Mr. Linley. +The child's debilitated condition--that lowered state of the +vital power which he had observed when Kitty's case was first +submitted to him--placed a terrible obstacle in the way of +successful resistance to the advance of the disease. "Say nothing +to Mrs. Linley just yet. There is no absolute danger so far, +unless delirium sets in." "Do you think it likely?" Linley asked. +The doctor shook his head, and said "God knows." + +On the next evening but one, the fatal symptom showed itself. +There was nothing violent in the delirium. Unconscious of past +events in the family life, the poor child supposed that her +governess was living in the house as usual. She piteously +wondered why Sydney remained downstairs in the schoolroom. "Oh, +don't keep her away from me! I want Syd! I want Syd!" That was +her one cry. When exhaustion silenced her, they hoped that the +sad delusion was at an end. No! As the slow fire of the fever +flamed up again, the same words were on the child's lips, the +same fond hope was in her sinking heart. + +The doctor led Mrs. Linley out of the room. "Is this the +governess?" he asked. + +"Yes!" + +"Is she within easy reach?" + +"She is employed in the family of a friend of ours, living five +miles away from us." + +"Send for her instantly!" + +Mrs. Linley looked at him with a wildly-mingled expression of +hope and fear. She was not thinking of herself--she was not even +thinking, for that one moment, of the child. What would her +husband say, if she (who had extorted his promise never to see +the governess again) brought Sydney Westerfield back to the +house? + +The doctor spoke to her more strongly still. + +"I don't presume to inquire into your private reasons for +hesitating to follow my advice," he said; "but I am bound to tell +you the truth. My poor little patient is in serious danger--every +hour of delay is an hour gained by death. Bring that lady to the +bedside as fast as your carriage can fetch her, and let us see +the result. If Kitty recognizes her governess--there, I tell you +plainly, is the one chance of saving the child's life." + +Mrs. Linley's resolution flashed on him in her weary eyes--the +eyes which, by day and night alike, had known so little rest. She +rang for her maid. "Tell your master I want to speak to him." + +The woman answered: "My master has gone out." + +The doctor watched the mother's face. No sign of hesitation +appeared in it--the one thought in her mind now was the thought +of the child. She called the maid back. + +"Order the carriage." + +"At what time do you want it, ma'am?" + +"At once!" + + + +Chapter XVII. + + +The Husband. + + +Mrs. Linley's first impulse in ordering the carriage was to use +it herself. One look at the child reminded her that her freedom +of action began and ended at the bedside. More than an hour must +elapse before Sydney Westerfield could be brought back to Mount +Morven; the bare thought of what might happen in that interval, +if she was absent, filled the mother with horror. She wrote to +Mrs. MacEdwin, and sent her maid with the letter. + +Of the result of this proceeding it was not possible to entertain +a doubt. + +Sydney's love for Kitty would hesitate at no sacrifice; and Mrs. +MacEdwin's conduct had already answered for her. She had received +the governess with the utmost kindness, and she had generously +and delicately refrained from asking any questions. But one +person at Mount Morven thought it necessary to investigate the +motives under which she had acted. Mrs. Presty's inquiring mind +arrived at discoveries; and Mrs. Presty's sense of duty +communicated them to her daughter. + +"There can be no sort of doubt, Catherine, that our good friend +and neighbor has heard, probably from the servants, of what has +happened; and (having her husband to consider--men are so weak!) +has drawn her own conclusions. If she trusts our fascinating +governess, it's because she knows that Miss Westerfield's +affections are left behind her in this house. Does my explanation +satisfy you?" + +Mrs. Linley said: "Never let me hear it again!" + +And Mrs. Presty answered: "How very ungrateful!" + +The dreary interval of expectation, after the departure of the +carriage, was brightened by a domestic event. + +Thinking it possible that Mrs. Presty might know why her husband +had left the house, Mrs. Linley sent to ask for information. The +message in reply informed her that Linley had received a telegram +announcing Randal's return from London. He had gone to the +railway station to meet his brother. + +Before she went downstairs to welcome Randal, Mrs. Linley paused +to consider her situation. The one alternative before her was to +acknowledge at the first opportunity that she had assumed the +serious responsibility of sending for Sydney Westerfield. For the +first time in her life, Catherine Linley found herself planning +beforehand what she would say to her husband. + +A second message interrupted her, announcing that the two +brothers had just arrived. She joined them in the drawing-room. + +Linley was sitting in a corner by himself. The dreadful discovery +that the child's life (by the doctor's confession) was in danger +had completely overwhelmed him: he had never even lifted his head +when his wife opened the door. Randal and Mrs. Presty were +talking together. The old lady's insatiable curiosity was eager +for news from London: she wanted to know how Randal had amused +himself when he was not attending to business. + +He was grieving for Kitty; and he was looking sadly at his +brother. "I don't remember," he answered, absently. Other women +might have discovered that they had chosen their time badly. Mrs. +Presty, with the best possible intentions, remonstrated. + +"Really, Randal, you must rouse yourself. Surely you can tell us +something. Did you meet with any agreeable people, while you were +away?" + +"I met one person who interested me," he said, with weary +resignation. + +Mrs. Presty smiled. "A woman, of course!" + +"A man," Randal answered; "a guest like myself at a club dinner." + +"Who is he?" + +"Captain Bennydeck." + +"In the army?" + +"No: formerly in the navy." + +"And you and he had a long talk together?" + +Randal's tones began to betray irritation. "No," he said "the +Captain went away early." + +Mrs. Presty's vigorous intellect discovered an improbability +here. "Then how came you to feel interested in him?" she +objected. + +Even Randal's patience gave way. "I can't account for it," he +said sharply. "I only know I took a liking to Captain Bennydeck." +He left Mrs. Presty and sat down by his brother. "You know I feel +for you," he said, taking Linley's hand. "Try to hope." + +The bitterness of the father's despair broke out in his answer. +"I can bear other troubles, Randal, as well as most men. This +affliction revolts me. There's something so horribly unnatural in +the child being threatened by death, while the parents (who +should die first) are alive and well--" He checked himself. "I +had better say no more, I shall only shock you." + +The misery in his face wrung the faithful heart of his wife. She +forgot the conciliatory expressions which she had prepared +herself to use. "Hope, my dear, as Randal tells you," she said, +"because there _is_ hope." + +His face flushed, his dim eyes brightened. "Has the doctor said +it?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"Why haven't I been told of it before?" + +"When I sent for you, I heard that you had gone out." + +The explanation passed by him unnoticed--perhaps even unheard. +"Tell me what the doctor said," he insisted; "I want it exactly, +word for word." + +She obeyed him to the letter. + +The sinister change in his face, as the narrative proceeded was +observed by both the other persons present, as well as by his +wife. She waited for a kind word of encouragement. He only said, +coldly: "What have you done?" + +Speaking coldly on her side, she answered: "I have sent the +carriage to fetch Miss Westerfield." + +There was a pause. Mrs. Presty whispered to Randal: "I knew she +would come back again! The Evil Genius of the family--that's what +I call Miss Westerfield. The name exactly fits her!" + +The idea in Randal's mind was that the name exactly fitted Mrs. +Presty. He made no reply; his eyes rested in sympathy on his +sister-in-law. She saw, and felt, his kindness at a time when +kindness was doubly precious. Her ton es trembled a little as she +spoke to her silent husband. + +"Don't you approve of what I have done, Herbert?" + +His nerves were shattered by grief and suspense; but he made an +effort this time to speak gently. "How can I say that," he +replied, "if the poor child's life depends on Miss Westerfield? I +ask one favor--give me time to leave the house before she comes +here." + +Mrs. Linley looked at him in amazement. + +Her mother touched her arm; Randal tried by a sign to warn her to +be careful. Their calmer minds had seen what the wife's agitation +had prevented her from discovering. In Linley's position, the +return of the governess was a trial to his self-control which he +had every reason to dread: his look, his voice, his manner +proclaimed it to persons capable of quietly observing him. He had +struggled against his guilty passion--at what sacrifice of his +own feelings no one knew but himself--and here was the +temptation, at the very time when he was honorably resisting it, +brought back to him by his wife! Her motive did unquestionably +excuse, perhaps even sanction, what she had done; but this was an +estimate of her conduct which commended itself to others. From +his point of view--motive or no motive--he saw the old struggle +against himself in danger of being renewed; he felt the ground +that he had gained slipping from under him already. + +In spite of the well-meant efforts made by her relatives to +prevent it, Mrs. Linley committed the very error which it was the +most important that she should avoid. She justified herself, +instead of leaving it to events to justify her. "Miss Westerfield +comes here," she argued, "on an errand that is beyond +reproach--an errand of mercy. Why should you leave the house?" + +"In justice to you," Linley answered. + +Mrs. Presty could restrain herself no longer. "Drop it, Catherine!" +she said in a whisper. + +Catherine refused to drop it; Linley's short and sharp reply had +irritated her. "After my experience," she persisted, "have I no +reason to trust you?" + +"It is part of your experience," he reminded her, "that I +promised not to see Miss Westerfield again." + +"Own it at once!" she broke out, provoked beyond endurance; +"though I may be willing to trust you--you are afraid to trust +yourself." + +Unlucky Mrs. Presty interfered again. "Don't listen to her, +Herbert. Keep out of harm's way, and you keep right." + +She patted him on the shoulder, as if she had been giving good +advice to a boy. He expressed his sense of his mother-in-law's +friendly offices in language which astonished her. + +"Hold your tongue!" + +"Do you hear that?" Mrs. Presty asked, appealing indignantly to +her daughter. + +Linley took his hat. "At what time do you expect Miss Westerfield +to arrive?" he said to his wife. + +She looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. "Before the half-hour +strikes. Don't be alarmed," she added, with an air of ironical +sympathy; "you will have time to make your escape." + +He advanced to the door, and looked at her. + +"One thing I beg you will remember," he said. "Every half-hour +while I am away (I am going to the farm) you are to send and let +me know how Kitty is--and especially if Miss Westerfield +justifies the experiment which the doctor has advised us to try." + +Having given those instructions he went out. + +The sofa was near Mrs. Linley. She sank on it, overpowered by the +utter destruction of the hopes that she had founded on the +separation of Herbert and the governess. Sydney Westerfield was +still in possession of her husband's heart! + +Her mother was surely the right person to say a word of comfort +to her. Randal made the suggestion--with the worst possible +result. Mrs. Presty had not forgotten that she had been told--at +her age, in her position as the widow of a Cabinet Minister--to +hold her tongue. "Your brother has insulted me," she said to +Randal. He was weak enough to attempt to make an explanation. "I +was speaking of my brother's wife," he said. "Your brother's wife +has allowed me to be insulted." Having received that reply, +Randal could only wonder. This woman went to church every Sunday, +and kept a New Testament, bound in excellent taste, on her +toilet-table! The occasion suggested reflection on the system +which produces average Christians at the present time. Nothing +more was said by Mrs. Presty; Mrs. Linley remained absorbed in +her own bitter thoughts. In silence they waited for the return of +the carriage, and the appearance of the governess. + + + +Chapter XVIII. + + +The Nursemaid. + + +Pale, worn, haggard with anxiety, Sydney Westerfield entered the +room, and looked once more on the faces which she had resigned +herself never to see again. She appeared to be hardly conscious +of the kind reception which did its best to set her at her ease. + +"Am I in time?" were the first words that escaped her on entering +the room. Reassured by the answer, she turned back to the door, +eager to hurry upstairs to Kitty's bedside. + +Mrs. Linley's gentle hand detained her. + +The doctor had left certain instructions, warning the mother to +guard against any accident that might remind Kitty of the day on +which Sydney had left her. At the time of that bitter parting, +the child had seen her governess in the same walking-dress which +she wore now. Mrs. Linley removed the hat and cloak, and laid +them on a chair. + +"There is one other precaution which we must observe," she said; +"I must ask you to wait in my room until I find that you may show +yourself safely. Now come with me." + +Mrs. Presty followed them, and begged earnestly for leave to wait +the result of the momentous experiment, at the door of Kitty's +bedroom. Her self-asserting manner had vanished; she was quiet, +she was even humble. While the last chance for the child's life +was fast becoming a matter of minutes only, the grandmother's +better nature showed itself on the surface. Randal opened the +door for them as the three went out together. He was in that +state of maddening anxiety about his poor little niece in which +men of his imaginative temperament become morbid, and say +strangely inappropriate things. In the same breath with which he +implored his sister-in-law to let him hear what had happened, +without an instant of delay, he startled Mrs. Presty by one of +his familiar remarks on the inconsistencies in her character. +"You disagreeable old woman," he whispered, as she passed him, +"you have got a heart, after all." + +Left alone, he was never for one moment in repose, while the slow +minutes followed each other in the silent house. + +He walked about the room, he listened at the door, he arranged +and disarranged the furniture. When the nursemaid descended from +the upper regions with her mistress's message for him, he ran out +to meet her; saw the good news in her smiling face; and, for the +first and last time in his life kissed one of his brother's +female servants. Susan--a well-bred young person, thoroughly +capable in ordinary cases of saying "For shame, sir!" and looking +as if she expected to feel an arm round her waist next--trembled +with terror under that astounding salute. Her master's brother, a +pattern of propriety up to that time, a man declared by her to be +incapable of kissing a woman unless she had a right to insist on +it in the licensed character of his wife, had evidently taken +leave of his senses. Would he bite her next? No: he only looked +confused, and said (how very extraordinary!) that he would never +do it again. Susan gave her message gravely. Here was an +unintelligible man; she felt the necessity of being careful in +her choice of words. + +"Miss Kitty stared at Miss Westerfield--only for a moment, +sir--as if she didn't quite understand, and then knew her again +directly. The doctor had just called. He drew up the blind to let +the light in, and he looked, and he says: 'Only be careful'--" +Tender-hearted Susan broke down, and began to cry. "I can't help +it, sir; we are all so fond of Miss Kitty, and we are so happy. +'Only be careful' (those were the exact words, if you please), +'and I answer for her life.'--Oh, dear! what have I said to make +him run away from me?" + +Randal had left her abruptly, and had shut himself into the +drawing-room. Susan's experience of men had not yet informed her +that a true Englishman is ashamed to be seen (especially by his +inferiors) with the tears in his eyes. + +He had barely succeeded in composing himself, when another +servant appeared--this time a man--with something to say to him. + +"I don't know whether I have done right, sir," Malcolm began. +"There's a stranger downstairs among the tourists who are looking +at the rooms and the pictures. He said he knew you. And he asked +if you were not related to the gentleman who allowed travelers to +see his interesting old house." + +"Well?" + +"Well, sir, I said Yes. And then he wanted to know if you +happened to be here at the present time." + +Randal cut the man's story short. "And you said Yes again, and he +gave you his card. Let me look at it." + +Malcolm produced the card, and instantly received instructions to +show the gentleman up. The name recalled the dinner at the London +club--Captain Bennydeck. + + + +Chapter XIX. + + +The Captain. + + +The fair complexion of the Captain's youthful days had been +darkened by exposure to hard weather and extreme climates. His +smooth face of twenty years since was scored by the telltale +marks of care; his dark beard was beginning to present variety of +color by means of streaks of gray; and his hair was in course of +undisguised retreat from his strong broad forehead. Not rising +above the middle height, the Captain's spare figure was well +preserved. It revealed power and activity, severely tested +perhaps at some former time, but capable even yet of endurance +under trial. Although he looked older than his age, he was still, +personally speaking, an attractive man. In repose, his eyes were +by habit sad and a little weary in their expression. They only +caught a brighter light when he smiled. At such times, helped by +this change and by his simple, earnest manner, they recommended +him to his fellow-creatures before he opened his lips. Men and +women taking shelter with him, for instance, from the rain, found +the temptation to talk with Captain Bennydeck irresistible; and, +when the weather cleared, they mostly carried away with them the +same favorable impression: "One would like to meet with that +gentleman again." + +Randal's first words of welcome relieved the Captain of certain +modest doubts of his reception, which appeared to trouble him +when he entered the room. "I am glad to find you remember me as +kindly as I remember you." Those were his first words when he and +Randal shook hands. + +"You might have felt sure of that," Randal said. + +The Captain's modesty still doubted. + +"You see, the circumstances were a little against me. We met at a +dull dinner, among wearisome worldly men, full of boastful talk +about themselves. It was all 'I did this,' and 'I said that'--and +the gentlemen who were present had always been right; and the +gentlemen who were absent had always been wrong. And, oh, dear. +when they came to politics, how they bragged about what they +would have done if they had only been at the head of the +Government; and how cruelly hard to please they were in the +matter of wine! Do you remember recommending me to spend my next +holiday in Scotland?" + +"Perfectly. My advice was selfish--it really meant that I wanted +to see you again." + +"And you have your wish, at your brother's house! The guide book +did it. First, I saw your family name. Then, I read on and +discovered that there were pictures at Mount Morven and that +strangers were allowed to see them. I like pictures. And here I +am." + +This allusion to the house naturally reminded Randal of the +master. "I wish I could introduce you to my brother and his +wife," he said. "Unhappily their only child is ill--" + +Captain Bennydeck started to his feet. "I am ashamed of having +intruded on you," he began. His new friend pressed him back into +his chair without ceremony. "On the contrary, you have arrived at +the best of all possible times--the time when our suspense is at +an end. The doctor has just told us that his poor little patient +is out of danger. You may imagine how happy we are." + +"And how grateful to God!" The Captain said those words in tones +that trembled--speaking to himself. + +Randal was conscious of feeling a momentary embarrassment. The +character of his visitor had presented itself in a new light. +Captain Bennydeck looked at him--understood him--and returned to +the subject of his travels. + +"Do you remember your holiday-time when you were a boy, and when +you had to go back to school?" he asked with a smile. "My mind is +in much the same state at leaving Scotland, and going back to my +work in London. I hardly know which I admire most--your beautiful +country or the people who inhabit it. I have had some pleasant +talk with your poorer neighbors; the one improvement I could wish +for among them is a keener sense of their religious duties." + +This was an objection new in Randal's experience of travelers in +general. + +"Our Highlanders have noble qualities," he said. "If you knew +them as well as I do, you would find a true sense of religion +among them; not presenting itself, however, to strangers as +strongly--I had almost said as aggressively--as the devotional +feeling of the Lowland Scotch. Different races, different +temperaments." + +"And all," the Captain added, gravely and gently, "with souls to +be saved. If I sent to these poor people some copies of the New +Testament, translated into their own language, would my gift be +accepted?" + +Strongly interested by this time, in studying Captain Bennydeck's +character on the side of it which was new to him, Randal owned +that he observed with surprise the interest which his friend felt +in perfect strangers. The Captain seemed to wonder why this +impression should have been produced by what he had just said. + +"I only try," he answered, "to do what good I can, wherever I +go." + +"Your life must be a happy one," Randal said. + +Captain Bennydeck's head drooped. The shadows that attend on the +gloom of melancholy remembrance showed their darkening presence +on his face. Briefly, almost sternly, he set Randal right. + +"No, sir." + +"Forgive me," the younger man pleaded, "if I have spoken +thoughtlessly." + +"You have mistaken me," the Captain explained; "and it is my +fault. My life is an atonement for the sins of my youth. I have +reached my fortieth year--and that one purpose is before me for +the rest of my days. Sufferings and dangers which but few men +undergo awakened my conscience. My last exercise of the duties of +my profession associated me with an expedition to the Polar Seas. +Our ship was crushed in the ice. Our march to the nearest regions +inhabited by humanity was a hopeless struggle of starving men, +rotten with scurvy, against the merciless forces of Nature. One +by one my comrades dropped and died. Out of twenty men there were +three left with a last flicker in them of the vital flame when +the party of rescue found us. One of the three died on the +homeward journey. One lived to reach his native place, and to +sink to rest with his wife and children round his bed. The last +man left, out of that band of martyrs to a hopeless cause, lives +to be worthier of God's mercy--and tries to make God's creatures +better and happier in this world, and worthier of the world that +is to come." + +Randal's generous nature felt the appeal that had been made to +it. "Will you let me take your hand, Captain?" he said. + +They clasped hands in silence. + +Captain Bennydeck was the first to speak again. That modest +distrust of himself, which a man essentially noble and brave is +generally the readiest of men to feel, seemed to be troubling him +once more--just as it had troubled him when he first found +himself in Randal's presence. + +"I hope you won't think me vain," he resumed; "I seldom say so +much about myself as I have said to you." + +"I only wish you would say more," Randal rejoined. "Can't you put +off your return to London for a day or two?" + +The thing was not to be done. Duties which it was impossible to +trifle with called the Captain back. "It's quite likely," he +said, alluding pleasantly to the impression which he had produced +in speaking of the Highlanders, "that I shall find more strangers +to interest me in the great city." + +"Are they always strangers?" Randal asked. "Have you never met by +accident with persons whom you may once have known?" + +"Never--yet. But it may happen on my return." + +"In what way?" + +"In this way. I have been in search of a poor girl who has lost +both her parents: she has, I fear, been left helpless at the +mercy of the world. Her father was an old friend of mine--once an +officer in the Navy like myself. The agent whom I formerly +employed (without success) to trace her, writes me word that he +has reason to believe she has obtained a situation as +pupil-teacher at a school in the suburbs of London; and I am +going back (among other things) to try if I can follow the clew +myself. Good-by, my friend. I am heartily sorry to go!" + +"Life is made up of partings," Randal answered. + +"And of meetings," the Captain wisely reminded him. "When you are +in London, you will always hear of me at the club." + +Heartily reciprocating his good wishes, Randal attended Captain +Bennydeck to the door. On the way back to the drawing-room, he +found his mind dwelling, rather to his surprise, on the Captain's +contemplated search for the lost girl. + +Was the good man likely to find her? It seemed useless enough to +inquire--and yet Randal asked himself the question. Her father +had been described as an officer in the Navy. Well, and what did +that matter? Inclined to laugh at his own idle curiosity, he was +suddenly struck by a new idea. What had his brother told him of +Miss Westerfield? _She_ was the daughter of an officer in the +Navy; _she_ had been pupil-teacher at a school. Was it really +possible that Sydney Westerfield could be the person whom Captain +Bennydeck was attempting to trace? Randal threw up the window +which overlooked the drive in front of the house. Too late! The +carriage which had brought the Captain to Mount Morven was no +longer in sight. + +The one other course that he could take was to mention Captain +Bennydeck's name to Sydney, and be guided by the result. + +As he approached the bell, determining to send a message +upstairs, he heard the door opened behind him. Mrs. Presty had +entered the drawing-room, with a purpose (as it seemed) in which +Randal was concerned. + + +Chapter XX. + +The Mother-in-Law. + + +Strong as the impression was which Captain Bennydeck had produced +on Randal, Mrs. Presty's first words dismissed it from his mind. +She asked him if he had any message for his brother. + +Randal instantly looked at the clock. "Has Catherine not sent to +the farm, yet?" he asked in astonishment. + +Mrs. Presty's mind seemed to be absorbed in her daughter. "Ah, +poor Catherine! Worn out with anxiety and watching at Kitty's +bedside. Night after night without any sleep; night after night +tortured by suspense. As usual, she can depend on her old mother +for sympathy. I have taken all her household duties on myself, +till she is in better health." + +Randal tried again. "Mrs. Presty, am I to understand (after the +plain direction Herbert gave) that no messenger has been sent to +the farm?" + +Mrs. Presty held her venerable head higher than ever, when Randal +pronounced his brother's name. "I see no necessity for being in a +hurry," she answered stiffly, "after the brutal manner in which +Herbert has behaved to me. Put yourself in my place--and imagine +what you would feel if you were told to hold your tongue." + +Randal wasted no more time on ears that were deaf to +remonstrance. Feeling the serious necessity of interfering to +some good purpose, he asked where he might find his +sister-in-law. + +"I have taken Catherine into the garden," Mrs. Presty announced. +"The doctor himself suggested--no, I may say, ordered it. He is +afraid that _she_ may fall ill next, poor soul, if she doesn't +get air and exercise." + +In Mrs. Linley's own interests, Randal resolved on advising her +to write to her husband by the messenger; explaining that she was +not to blame for the inexcusable delay which had already taken +place. Without a word more to Mrs. Presty, he hastened out of the +room. That inveterately distrustful woman called him back. She +desired to know where he was going, and why he was in a hurry. + +"I am going to the garden," Randal answered. + +"To speak to Catherine?" + +"Yes." + +"Needless trouble, my dear Randal. She will be back in a quarter +of an hour, and she will pass through this room on her way +upstairs." + +Another quarter of an hour was a matter of no importance to Mrs. +Presty! Randal took his own way--the way into the garden. + +His silence and his determination to join his sister-in-law +roused Mrs. Presty's ready suspicions; she concluded that he was +bent on making mischief between her daughter and herself. The one +thing to do in this case was to follow him instantly. The active +old lady trotted out of the room, strongly inclined to think that +the Evil Genius of the family might be Randal Linley after all! + +They had both taken the shortest way to the garden; that is to +say, the way through the library, which communicated at its +furthest end with the corridor and the vaulted flight of stairs +leading directly out of the house. Of the two doors in the +drawing-room, one, on the left, led to the grand staircase and +the hall; the other, on the right, opened on the backstairs, and +on a side entrance to the house, used by the family when they +were pressed for time, as well as by the servants. + +The drawing-room had not been empty more than a few minutes when +the door on the right was suddenly opened. Herbert Linley, +entered with hurried, uncertain steps. He took the chair that was +nearest to him, and dropped into it like a man overpowered by +agitation or fatigue. + +He had ridden from the farm at headlong speed, terrified by the +unexplained delay in the arrival of the messenger from home. +Unable any longer to suffer the torment of unrelieved suspense, +he had returned to make inquiry at the house. As he interpreted +the otherwise inexplicable neglect of his instructions, the last +chance of saving the child's life had failed, and his wife had +been afraid to tell him the dreadful truth. + +After an interval, he rose and went into the library. + +It was empty, like the drawing-room. The bell was close by him. +He lifted his hand to ring it--and drew back. As brave a man as +ever lived, he knew what fear was now. The father's courage +failed him before the prospect of summoning a servant, and +hearing, for all he knew to the contrary, that his child was +dead. + +How long he stood there, alone and irresolute, he never +remembered when he thought of it in after-days. All he knew was +that there came a time when a sound in the drawing-room attracted +his attention. It was nothing more important than the opening of +a door. + +The sound came from that side of the room which was nearest to +the grand staircase--and therefore nearest also to the hall in +one direction, and to the bed-chambers in the other. + +Some person had entered the room. Whether it was one of the +family or one of the servants, he would hear in either case what +had happened in his absence. He parted the curtains over the +library entrance, and looked through. + +The person was a woman. She stood with her back turned toward the +library, lifting a cloak off a chair. As she shook the cloak out +before putting it on, she changed her position. He saw the face, +never to be forgotten by him to the last day of his life. He saw +Sydney Westerfield. + + + +Chapter XXI. + + +The Governess. + + +Linley had one instant left, in which he might have drawn, back +into the library in time to escape Sydney's notice. He was +incapable of the effort of will. Grief and suspense had deprived +him of that elastic readiness of mind which springs at once from +thought to action. For a moment he hesitated. In that moment she +looked up and saw him. + +With a faint cry of alarm she let the cloak drop from her hands. +As helpless as he was, as silent as he was, she stood rooted to +the spot. + +He tried to control himself. Hardly knowing what he said, he made +commonplace excuses, as if he had been a stranger: "I am sorry to +have startled you; I had no idea of finding you in this room." + +Sydney pointed to her cloak on the floor, and to her hat on a +chair near it. Understanding the necessity which had brought her +into the room, he did his best to reconcile her to the meeting +that had followed. + +"It's a relief to me to have seen you," he said, "before you +leave us." + +A relief to him to see her! Why? How? What did that strange word +mean, addressed to _her?_ She roused herself, and put the +question to him. + +"It's surely better for me," he answered, "to hear the miserable +news from you than from a servant." + +"What miserable news?" she asked, still as perplexed as ever. + +He could preserve his self-control no longer; the misery in him +forced its way outward at last. The convulsive struggles for +breath which burst from a man in tears shook him from head to +foot. + +"My poor little darling!" he gasped. "My only child!" + +All that was embarrassing in her position passed from Sydney's +mind in an instant. She stepped close up to him; she laid her +hand gently and fearlessly on his arm. "Oh, Mr. Linley, what +dreadful mistake is this?" + +His dim eyes rested on her with a piteous expression of doubt. He +heard her--and he was afraid to believe her. She was too deeply +distressed, too full of the truest pity for him, to wait and +think before she spoke. "Yes! yes!" she cried, under the impulse +of the moment. "The dear child knew me again, the moment I spoke +to her. Kitty's recovery is only a matter of time." + +He staggered back--with a livid change in his face startling to +see. The mischief done by Mrs. Presty's sense of injury had led +already to serious results. If the thought in Linley, at that +moment, had shaped itself into words, he would have said, "And +Catherine never told me of it!" How bitterly he thought of the +woman who had left him in suspense--how gratefully he felt toward +the woman who had lightened his heart of the heaviest burden ever +laid on it! + +Innocent of all suspicion of the feeling that she had aroused, +Sydney blamed her own want of discretion as the one cause of the +change that she perceived in him. "How thoughtless, how cruel of +me," she said, "not to have been more careful in telling you the +good news! Pray forgive me." + +"You thoughtless! you cruel!" At the bare idea of her speaking in +that way of herself, his sense of what he owed to her defied all +restraint. He seized her hands and covered them with grateful +kisses. "Dear Sydney! dear, good Sydney!" + +She drew back from him; not abruptly, not as if she felt +offended. Her fine perception penetrated the meaning of those +harmless kisses--the uncontrollable outburst of a sense of relief +beyond the reach of expression in words. But she changed the +subject. Mrs. Linley (she told him) had kindly ordered fresh +horses to be put to the carriage, so that she might go back to +her duties if the doctor sanctioned it. + +She turned away to take up her cloak. Linley stopped her. "You +can't leave Kitty," he said, positively. + +A faint smile brightened her face for a moment. "Kitty has fallen +asleep--such a sweet, peaceful sleep! I don't think I should have +left her but for that. The maid is watching at the bedside, and +Mrs. Linley is only away for a little while." + +"Wait a few minutes," he pleaded; "it's so long since we have +seen each other." + +The tone in which he spoke warned her to persist in leaving him +while her resolution remained firm. "I had arranged with Mrs. +MacEdwin," she began, "if all went well--" + +"Speak of yourself," he interposed. "Tell me if you are happy." + +She let this pass without a reply. "The doctor sees no harm," she +went on, "in my being away for a few hours. Mrs. MacEdwin has +offered to send me here in the evening, so that I can sleep in +Kitty's room." + +"You don't look well, Sydney. You are pale and worn--you are not +happy." + +She began to tremble. For the second time, she turned away to +take up her cloak. For the second time, he stopped her. + +"Not just yet," he said. "You don't know how it distresses me to +see you so sadly changed. I remember the time when you were the +happiest creature living. Do you remember it, too?" + +"Don't ask me!" was all she could say. + +He sighed as he looked at her. "It's dreadful to think of your +young life, that ought to be so bright, wasting and withering +among strangers." He said those words with increasing agitation; +his eyes rested on her eagerly with a wild look in them. She made +a resolute effort to speak to him coldly--she called him "Mr. +Linley"--she bade him good-by. + +It was useless. He stood between her and the door; he disregarded +what she had said as if he had not heard it. "Hardly a day +passes," he owned to her, "that I don't think of you." + +"You shouldn't tell me that!" + +"How can I see you again--and not tell you?" + +She burst out with a last entreaty. "For God's sake, let us say +good-by!" + +His manner became undisguisedly tender; his language changed in +the one way of all others that was most perilous to her--he +appealed to her pity: "Oh, Sydney, it's so hard to part with +you!" + +"Spare me!" she cried, passionately. "You don't know how I +suffer." + +"My sweet angel, I do know it--by what I suffer myself! Do you +ever feel for me as I feel for you?" + +"Oh, Herbert! Herbert!" + +"Have you ever thought of me since we parted?" + +She had striven against herself, and against him, till her last +effort at resistance was exhausted. In reckless despair she let +the truth escape her at last. + +"When do I ever think of anything else! I am a wretch unworthy of +all the kindness that has been shown to me. I don't deserve your +interest; I don't even deserve your pity. Send me away--be hard +on me--be brutal to me. Have some mercy on a miserable creature +whose life is one long hopeless effort to forget you!" Her voice, +her look, maddened him. He drew her to his bosom; he held her in +his arms; she struggled vainly to get away from him. "Oh," she +murmured, "how cruel you are! Remember, my dear one, remember how +young I am, how weak I am. Oh, Herbert, I'm dying--dying--dying!" +Her voice grew fainter and fainter; her head sank on his breast. +He lifted her face to him with whispered words of love. He kissed +her again and again. + + + + +The curtains over the library entrance moved noiselessly when +they were parted. The footsteps of Catherine Linley were +inaudible as she passed through, and entered the room. + +She stood still for a moment in silent horror. + +Not a sound warned them when she advanced. After hesitating for a +moment, she raised her hand toward her husband, as if to tell him +of her presence by a touch; drew it back, suddenly recoiling from +her own first intention; and touched Sydney instead. + +Then, and then only, they knew what had happened. + +Face to face, those three persons--with every tie that had once +united them snapped asunder in an instant--looked at each other. +The man owed a duty to the lost creature whose weakness had +appealed to his mercy in vain. The man broke the silence. + +"Catherine--" + +With immeasurable contempt looking brightly out of her steady +eyes, his wife stopped him. + +"Not a word!" + +He refused to be silent. "It is I," he said; "I only who am to +blame." + +"Spare yourself the trouble of making excuses," she answered; +"they are needless. Herbert Linley, the woman who was once your +wife despises you." + +Her eyes turned from him and rested on Sydney Westerfield. + +"I have a last word to say to _you_. Look at me, if you can." + +Sydney lifted her head. She looked vacantly at the outraged woman +before her, as if she saw a woman in a dream. + +With the same terrible self-possession which she had preserved +from the first--standing between her husband and her +governess--Mrs. Linley spoke. + +"Miss Westerfield, you have saved my child's life." She +paused--her eyes still resting on the girl's face. Deadly pale, +she pointed to her husband, and said to Sydney: "Take him!" + +She passed out of the room--and left them together. + + + +THIRD BOOK. + + +Chapter XXII. + + +Retrospect. + + +The autumn holiday-time had come to an end; and the tourists had +left Scotland to the Scots. + +In the dull season, a solitary traveler from the North arrived at +the nearest post-town to Mount Morven. A sketchbook and a +color-box formed part of his luggage, and declared him to be an +artist. Falling into talk over his dinner with the waiter at the +hotel, he made inquiries about a picturesque house in the +neighborhood, which showed that Mount Morven was well known to +him by reputation. When he proposed paying a visit to the old +border fortress the next day, the waiter said: "You can't see +the house." When the traveler asked Why, this man of few words +merely added: "Shut up." + +The landlord made his appearance with a bottle of wine and proved +to be a more communicative person in his relations with +strangers. Presented in an abridged form, and in the English +language, these (as he related them) were the circumstances under +which Mount Morven had been closed to the public. + +A complete dispersion of the family had taken place not long +since. For miles round everybody was sorry for it. Rich and poor +alike felt the same sympathy with the good lady of the house. She +had been most shamefully treated by her husband, and by a +good-for-nothing girl employed as governess. To put it plainly, +the two had run away together; one report said they had gone +abroad, and another declared that they were living in London. Mr. +Linley's conduct was perfectly incomprehensible. He had always +borne the highest character--a good landlord, a kind father, a +devoted husband. And yet, after more than eight years of +exemplary married life, he had disgraced himself. The minister of +the parish, preaching on the subject, had attributed this +extraordinary outbreak of vice on the part of an otherwise +virtuous man, to a possession of the devil. Assuming "the devil," +in this case, to be only a discreet and clerical way of alluding +from the pulpit to a woman, the landlord was inclined to agree +with the minister. After what had happened, it was, of course, +impossible that Mrs. Linley could remain in her husband's house. +She and her little girl, and her mother, were supposed to be +living in retirement. They kept the place of their retreat a +secret from everybody but Mrs. Linley's legal adviser, who was +instructed to forward letters. But one other member of the family +remained to be accounted for. This was Mr. Linley's younger +brother, known at present to be traveling on the Continent. Two +trustworthy old servants had been left in charge at Mount +Morven--and there was the whole story; and that was why the house +was shut up. + + +Chapter XXIII. + + +Separation. + + +In a cottage on the banks of one of the Cumberland Lakes, two +ladies were seated at the breakfast-table. The windows of the +room opened on a garden which extended to the water's edge, and +on a boat-house and wooden pier beyond. On the pier a little girl +was fishing, under the care of her maid. After a prevalence of +rainy weather, the sun was warm this morning for the time of +year; and the broad sheet of water alternately darkened and +brightened as the moving masses of cloud now gathered and now +parted over the blue beauty of the sky. + +The ladies had finished their breakfast; the elder of the +two--that is to say, Mrs. Presty--took up her knitting and eyed +her silent daughter with an expression of impatient surprise. + +"Another bad night, Catherine?" + +The personal attractions that distinguished Mrs. Linley were not +derived from the short-lived beauty which depends on youth and +health. Pale as she was, her face preserved its fine outline; her +features had not lost their grace and symmetry of form. +Presenting the appearance of a woman who had suffered acutely, +she would have been more than ever (in the eyes of some men) a +woman to be admired and loved. + +"I seldom sleep well now," she answered, patiently. + +"You don't give yourself a chance," Mrs. Presty remonstrated. +"Here's a fine morning--come out for a sail on the lake. +To-morrow there's a concert in the town--let's take tickets. +There's a want of what I call elastic power in your mind, +Catherine--the very quality for which your father was so +remarkable; the very quality which Mr. Presty used to say made +him envy Mr. Norman. Look at your dress! Where's the +common-sense, at your age, of wearing nothing but black? Nobody's +dead who belongs to us, and yet you do your best to look as if +you were in mourning." + +"I have no heart, mamma, to wear colors." + +Mrs. Presty considered this reply to be unworthy of notice. She +went on with her knitting, and only laid it down when the servant +brought in the letters which had arrived by the morning's post. +They were but two in number--and both were for Mrs. Linley. In +the absence of any correspondence of her own, Mrs. Presty took +possession of her daughter's letters. + +"One addressed in the lawyer's handwriting," she announced; "and +one from Randal. Which shall I open for you first?" + +"Randal's letter, if you please." + +Mrs. Presty handed it across the table. "Any news is a relief +from the dullness of this place," she said. "If there are no +secrets, Catherine, read it out." + +There were no secrets on the first page. + +Randal announced his arrival in London from the Continent, and +his intention of staying there for a while. He had met with a +friend (formerly an officer holding high rank in the Navy) whom +he was glad to see again--a rich man who used his wealth +admirably in the interest of his poor and helpless +fellow-creatures. A "Home," established on a new plan, was just +now engaging all his attention: he was devoting himself so +unremittingly to the founding of this institution that his doctor +predicted injury to his health at no distant date. If it was +possible to persuade him to take a holiday, Randal might return +to the Continent as the traveling-companion of his friend. + +"This must be the man whom he first met at the club," Mrs. Presty +remarked. "Well, Catherine, I suppose there is some more of it. +What's the matter? Bad news?" + +"Something that I wish Randal had not written. Read it +yourself--and don't talk of it afterward." + +Mrs. Presty read: + +"I know nothing whatever of my unfortunate brother. If you think +this is a too-indulgent way of alluding to a man who has so +shamefully wronged you, let my conviction that he is already +beginning to suffer the penalty of his crime plead my excuse. +Herbert's nature is, in some respects, better known to me than it +is to you. I am persuaded that your hold on his respect and his +devotion is shaken--not lost. He has been misled by one of those +passing fancies, disastrous and even criminal in their results, +to which men are liable when they are led by no better influence +than the influence of their senses. It is not, and never will be, +in the nature of women to understand this. I fear I may offend +you in what I am now writing; but I must speak what I believe to +be the truth, at any sacrifice. Bitter repentance (if he is not +already feeling it) is in store for Herbert, when he finds +himself tied to a person who cannot bear comparison with you. I +say this, pitying the poor girl most sincerely, when I think of +her youth and her wretched past life. How it will end I cannot +presume to say. I can only acknowledge that I do not look to the +future with the absolute despair which you naturally felt when I +last saw you." + +Mrs. Presty laid the letter down, privately resolving to write to +Randal, and tell him to keep his convictions for the future to +himself. A glance at her daughter's face warned her, if she said +anything, to choose a new subject. + +The second letter still remained unnoticed. "Shall we see what +the lawyer says?" she suggested--and opened the envelope. The +lawyer had nothing to say. He simply inclosed a letter received +at his office. + +Mrs. Presty had long passed the age at which emotion expresses +itself outwardly by a change of color. She turned pale, +nevertheless, when she looked at the second letter. + +The address was in Herbert Linley's handwriting. + + +Chapter XXIV. + + +Hostility. + + +When she was not eating her meals or asleep in her bed, absolute +silence on Mrs. Presty's part was a circumstance without +precedent in the experience of her daughter. Mrs. Presty was +absolutely silent now. Mrs. Linley looked up. + +She at once perceived the change in her mother's face and asked +what it meant. "Mamma, you look as if something had frightened +you. Is it anything in that letter?" She bent over the table, and +looked a little closer at the letter. Mrs. Presty had turned it +so that the address was underneath; and the closed envelope was +visible still intact. "Why don't you open it?" Mrs. Linley asked. + +Mrs. Presty made a strange reply. "I am thinking of throwing it +into the fire." + +"My letter?" + +"Yes; your letter." + +"Let me look at it first." + +"You had better not look at it, Catherine." + +Naturally enough, Mrs. Linley remonstrated. "Surely I ought to +read a letter forwarded by my lawyer. Why are you hiding the +address from me? Is it from some person whose handwriting we both +know?" She looked again at her silent mother--reflected--and +guessed the truth. "Give it to me directly," she said; "my +husband has written to me." + +Mrs. Presty's heavy eyebrows gathered into a frown. "Is it +possible," she asked sternly, "that you are still fond enough of +that man to care about what he writes to you?" Mrs. Linley held +out her hand for the letter. Her wise mother found it desirable +to try persuasion next. "If you really won't give way, my dear, +humor me for once. Will you let me read it to you?" + +"Yes--if you promise to read every word of it." + +Mrs. Presty promised (with a mental reservation), and opened the +letter. + +At the two first words, she stopped and began to clean her +spectacles. Had her own eyes deceived her? Or had Herbert Linley +actually addressed her daughter--after having been guilty of the +cruelest wrong that a husband can inflict on a wife--as "Dear +Catherine"? Yes: there were the words, when she put her +spectacles on again. Was he in his right senses? or had he +written in a state of intoxication? + +Mrs. Linley waited, with a preoccupied mind: she showed no signs +of impatience or surprise. As it presently appeared, she was not +thinking of the letter addressed to her by Herbert, but of the +letter written by Randal. "I want to look at it again." With that +brief explanation she turned at once to the closing lines which +had offended her when she first read them. + +Mrs. Presty hazarded a guess at what was going on in her +daughter's mind. "Now your husband has written to you," she said, +"are you beginning to think Randal's opinion may be worth +considering again?" With her eyes still on Randal's letter, Mrs. +Linley merely answered: "Why don't you begin?" Mrs. Presty began +as follows, leaving out the familiarity of her son-in-law's +address to his wife. + +"I hope and trust you will forgive me for venturing to write to +you, in consideration of the subject of my letter. I have +something to say concerning our child. Although I have deserved +the worst you can think of me, I believe you will not deny that +even your love for our little Kitty (while we were living +together) was not a truer love than mine. Bad as I am, my heart +has that tender place left in it still. I cannot endure +separation from my child." + +Mrs. Linley rose to her feet. The first vague anticipations of +future atonement and reconciliation, suggested by her +brother-in-law, no longer existed in her mind: she foresaw but +too plainly what was to come. "Read faster," she said, "or let me +read it for myself." + +Mrs. Presty went on: "There is no wish, on my part, to pain you +by any needless allusion to my claims as a father. My one desire +is to enter into an arrangement which shall be as just toward +you, as it is toward me. I propose that Kitty shall live with her +father one half of the year, and shall return to her mother's +care for the other half If there is any valid objection to this, +I confess I fail to see it." + +Mrs. Linley could remain silent no longer. + +"Does he see no difference," she broke out, "between his position +and mine? What consolation--in God's name, what consolation is +left to me for the rest of my life but my child? And he threatens +to separate us for six months in every year! And he takes credit +to himself for an act of exalted justice on his part! Is there no +such thing as shame in the hearts of men?" + +Under ordinary circumstances, her mother would have tried to calm +her. But Mrs. Presty had turned to the next page of the letter, +at the moment when her daughter spoke. + +What she found written, on that other side, produced a startling +effect on her. She crumpled the letter up in her hand, and threw +it into the fireplace. It fell under the grate instead of into +the grate. With amazing activity for a woman of her age, she ran +across the room to burn it. Younger and quicker, Mrs. Linley got +to the fireplace first, and seized the letter. "There is +something more!" she exclaimed. "And you are afraid of my knowing +what it is." + +"Don't read it!" Mrs. Presty called out. + +There was but one sentence left to read: "If your maternal +anxiety suggests any misgiving, let me add that a woman's loving +care will watch over our little girl while she is under my roof. +You will remember how fond Miss Westerfield was of Kitty, and you +will believe me when I tell you that she is as truly devoted to +the child as ever." + +"I tried to prevent you from reading it," said Mrs. Presty. + +Mrs. Linley looked at her mother with a strange unnatural smile. + +"I wouldn't have missed this for anything!" she said. "The +cruelest of all separations is proposed to me--and I am expected +to submit to it, because my husband's mistress is fond of my +child!" She threw the letter from her with a frantic gesture of +contempt and burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. + +The old mother's instinct--not the old mother's reason--told her +what to do. She drew her daughter to the open window, and called +to Kitty to come in. The child (still amusing herself by fishing +in the lake) laid down her rod. Mrs. Linley saw her running +lightly along the little pier, on her way to the house. _That_ +influence effected what no other influence could have achieved. +The outraged wife controlled herself, for the sake of her child. +Mrs. Presty led her out to meet Kitty in the garden; waited until +she saw them together; and returned to the breakfast-room. + +Herbert Linley's letter lay on the floor; his discreet +mother-in-law picked it up. It could do no more harm now, and +there might be reasons for keeping the husband's proposal. +"Unless I am very much mistaken," Mrs. Presty concluded, "we +shall hear more from the lawyer before long." She locked up the +letter, and wondered what her daughter would do next. + +In half an hour Mrs. Linley returned--pale, silent, +self-contained. + +She seated herself at her desk; wrote literally one line; signed +it without an instant's hesitation, and folded the paper. Before +it was secured in the envelope, Mrs. Presty interfered with a +characteristic request. "You are writing to Mr. Linley, of +course," she said. "May I see it?" + +Mrs. Linley handed the letter to her. The one line of writing +contained these words: "I refuse positively to part with my +child.--Catherine Linley." + +"Have you considered what is likely to happen, when he gets +this?" Mrs. Presty inquired. + +"No, mamma." + +"Will you consult Randal?" + +"I would rather not consult him." + +"Will you let me consult him for you?" + +"Thank you--no." + +"Why not?" + +"After what Randal has written to me, I don't attach any value to +his opinion." With that reply she sent her letter to the post, +and went back again to Kitty. + +After this, Mrs. Presty resolved to wait the arrival of Herbert +Linley's answer, and to let events take their course. The view +from the window (as she passed it, walking up and down the room) +offered her little help in forecasting the future. Kitty had +returned to her fishing; and Kitty's mother was walking slowly up +and down the pier, deep in thought. Was she thinking of what +might happen, and summoning the resolution which so seldom showed +itself on ordinary occasions? + + +Chapter XXV. + + +Consultation. + + +No second letter arrived. But a telegram was received from the +lawyer toward the end of the week. + +"Expect me to-morrow on business which requires personal +consultation." + +That was the message. In taking the long journey to Cumberland, +Mrs. Linley's legal adviser sacrificed two days of his precious +time in London. Something serious must assuredly have happened. + +In the meantime, who was the lawyer? + +He was Mr. Sarrazin, of Lincoln's Inn Fields. + +Was he an Englishman or a Frenchman? + +He was a curious mixture of both. His ancestors had been among +the persecuted French people who found a refuge in England, when +the priest-ridden tyrant, Louis the Fourteenth, revoked the Edict +of Nantes. A British subject by birth, and a thoroughly +competent and trustworthy man, Mr. Sarrazin labored under one +inveterate delusion; he firmly believed that his original French +nature had been completely eradicated, under the influence of our +insular climate and our insular customs. No matter how often the +strain of the lively French blood might assert itself, at +inconvenient times and under regrettable circumstances, he never +recognized this foreign side of his character. His excellent +spirits, his quick sympathies, his bright mutability of mind--all +those qualities, in short, which were most mischievously ready to +raise distrust in the mind of English clients, before their +sentiment changed for the better under the light of later +experience--were attributed by Mr. Sarrazin to the exhilarating +influence of his happy domestic circumstances and his successful +professional career. His essentially English wife; his +essentially English children; his whiskers, his politics, his +umbrella, his pew at church, his plum pudding, his _Times_ +newspaper, all answered for him (he was accustomed to say) as an +inbred member of the glorious nation that rejoices in hunting the +fox, and believes in innumerable pills. + +This excellent man arrived at the cottage, desperately fatigued +after his long journey, but in perfect possession of his +incomparable temper, nevertheless. + +He afforded a proof of this happy state of mind, on sitting down +to his supper. An epicure, if ever there was one yet, he found +the solid part of the refreshments offered to him to consist of a +chop. The old French blood curdled at the sight of it--but the +true-born Englishman heroically devoted himself to the national +meal. At the same time the French vivacity discovered a kindred +soul in Kitty; Mr. Sarrazin became her intimate friend in five +minutes. He listened to her and talked to her, as if the child +had been his client, and fishing from the pier the business which +had brought him from London. To Mrs. Presty's disgust, he turned +up a corner of the table-cloth, when he had finished his chop, +and began to conjure so deftly with the spoons and forks that +poor little Kitty (often dull, now, under the changed domestic +circumstances of her life) clapped her hands with pleasure, and +became the joyous child of the happy old times once more. Mrs. +Linley, flattered in her maternal love and her maternal pride, +never thought of recalling this extraordinary lawyer to the +business that was waiting to be discussed. But Mrs. Presty looked +at the clock, and discovered that her grandchild ought to have +been in bed half-an-hour ago. + +"Time to say good-night," the grandmother suggested. + +The grandchild failed to see the subject of bed in the same +light. "Oh, not yet," she pleaded; "I want to speak to Mr.--" +Having only heard the visitor's name once, and not finding her +memory in good working order after the conjuring, Kitty +hesitated. "Isn't your name something like Saracen?" she asked. + +"Very like!" cried the genial lawyer. "Try my other name, my +dear. I'm Samuel as well as Sarrazin." + +"Ah, that'll do," said Kitty. "Grandmamma, before I go to bed, +I've something to ask Samuel." + +Grandmamma persisted in deferring the question until the next +morning. Samuel administered consolation before he said +good-night. "I'll get up early," he whispered, "and we'll go on +the pier before breakfast and fish." + +Kitty expressed her gratitude in her own outspoken way. "Oh, +dear, how nice it would be, Samuel, if you lived with us!" Mrs. +Linley laughed for the first time, poor soul, since the +catastrophe which had broken up her home. Mrs. Presty set a +proper example. She moved her chair so that she faced the lawyer, +and said: "Now, Mr. Sarrazin!" + +He acknowledged that he understood what this meant, by a very +unprofessional choice of words. "We are in a mess," he began, +"and the sooner we are out of it the better." + +"Only let me keep Kitty," Mrs. Linley declared, "and I'll do +whatever you think right." + +"Stick to that, dear madam, when you have heard what I have to +tell you--and I shall not have taken my journey in vain. In the +first place, may I look at the letter which I had the honor of +forwarding some days since?" + +Mrs. Presty gave him Herbert Linley's letter. He read it with the +closest attention, and tapped the breast-pocket of his coat when +he had done. + +"If I didn't know what I have got here," he remarked, "I should +have said: Another person dictated this letter, and the name of +the person is Miss Westerfield." + +"Just my idea!" Mrs. Presty exclaimed. "There can't be a doubt of +it." + +"Oh, but there is a very great doubt of it, ma'am; and you will +say so too when you know what your severe son-in-law threatens to +do." He turned to Mrs. Linley. "After having seen that pretty +little friend of mine who has just gone to bed (how much nicer it +would be for all of us if we could go to bed too!), I think I +know how you answered your husband's letter. But I ought perhaps +to see how you have expressed yourself. Have you got a copy?" + +"It was too short, Mr. Sarrazin, to make a copy necessary." + +"Do you mean you can remember it?" + +"I can repeat it word for word. This was my reply: I refuse, +positively, to part with my child." + +"No more like that?" + +"No more." + +Mr. Sarrazin looked at his client with undisguised admiration. +"The only time in all my long experience," he said, "in which I +have found a lady's letter capable of expressing itself strongly +in a few words. What a lawyer you will make, Mrs. Linley, when +the rights of women invade my profession!" + +He put his hand into his pocket and produced a letter addressed +to himself. + +Watching him anxiously, the ladies saw his bright face become +overclouded with anxiety. "I am the wretched bearer of bad news," +he resumed, "and if I fidget in my chair, that is the reason for +it. Let us get to the point--and let us get off it again as soon +as possible. Here is a letter, written to me by Mr. Linley's +lawyer. If you will take my advice you will let me say what the +substance of it is, and then put it back in my pocket. I doubt if +a woman has influenced these cruel instructions, Mrs. Presty; +and, therefore, I doubt if a woman influenced the letter which +led the way to them. Did I not say just now that I was coming to +the point? and here I am wandering further and further away from +it. A lawyer is human; there is the only excuse. Now, Mrs. +Linley, in two words; your husband is determined to have little +Miss Kitty; and the law, when he applies to it, is his obedient +humble servant." + +"Do you mean that the law takes my child away from me?" + +"I am ashamed, madam, to think that I live by the law; but that, +I must own, is exactly what it is capable of doing in the present +case. Compose yourself, I beg and pray. A time will come when +women will remind men that the mother bears the child and feeds +the child, and will insist that the mother's right is the best +right of the two. In the meanwhile--" + +"In the meanwhile, Mr. Sarrazin, I won't submit to the law." + +"Quite right, Catherine!" cried Mrs. Presty. "Exactly what I +should do, in your place." + +Mr. Sarrazin listened patiently. "I am all attention, good +ladies," he said, with the gentlest resignation. "Let me hear how +you mean to do it." + +The good ladies looked at each other. They discovered that it is +one thing to set an abuse at defiance in words, and another thing +to apply the remedy in deeds. The kind-hearted lawyer helped them +with a suggestion. "Perhaps you think of making your escape with +the child, and taking refuge abroad?" + +Mrs. Linley eagerly accepted the hint. "The first train to-morrow +morning starts at half-past seven," she said. "We might catch +some foreign steamer that sails from the east coast of Scotland." + +Mrs. Presty, keeping a wary eye on Mr. Sarrazin, was not quite so +ready as her daughter in rushing at conclusions. "I am afraid," +she acknowledged, "our worthy friend sees some objection. What is +it?" + +"I don't presume to offer a positive opinion, ma'am; but I think +Mr. Linley and his lawyer have their suspicions. Plainly +speaking, I am afraid spies are set to watch us already." + +"Impossible!" + +"You shall hear. I travel second-class; one saves money and one +finds people to talk to--and at what sacrifice? Only a hard +cushion to sit on! In the same carriage with me there was a very +conversable person--a smart young man with flaming red hair. When +we took the omnibus at your station here, all the passengers got +out in the town except two. I was one exception, and the smart +young man was the other. When I stopped at your gate, the omnibus +went on a few yards, and set down my fellow-traveler at the +village inn. My profession makes me sly. I waited a little before +I rang your bell; and, when I could do it without being seen, I +crossed the road, and had a look at the inn. There is a moon +to-night; I was very careful. The young man didn't see me. But I +saw a head of flaming hair, and a pair of amiable blue eyes, over +the blind of a window; and it happened to be the one window of +the inn which commands a full view of your gate. Mere suspicion, +you will say! I can't deny it, and yet I have my reasons for +suspecting. Before I left London, one of my clerks followed me in +a great hurry to the terminus, and caught me as I was opening the +carriage door. 'We have just made a discovery,' he said; 'you and +Mrs. Linley are to be reckoned up.' Reckoned up is, if you +please, detective English for being watched. My clerk might have +repeated a false report, of course. And my fellow-traveler might +have come all the way from London to look out of the window of an +inn, in a Cumberland village. What do you think yourselves?" + +It seemed to be easier to dispute the law than to dispute Mr. +Sarrazin's conclusions. + +"Suppose I choose to travel abroad, and to take my child with +me," Mrs. Linley persisted, "who has any right to prevent me?" + +Mr. Sarrazin reluctantly reminded her that the father had a +right. "No person--not even the mother--can take the child out of +the father's custody," he said, "except with the father's +consent. His authority is the supreme authority--unless it +happens that the law has deprived him of his privilege, and has +expressly confided the child to the mother's care. Ha!" cried Mr. +Sarrazin, twisting round in his chair and fixing his keen eyes on +Mrs. Presty, "look at your good mother; _she_ sees what I am +coming to." + +"I see something more than you think," Mrs. Presty answered. "If +I know anything of my daughter's nature, you will find yourself, +before long, on delicate ground." + +"What do you mean, mamma?" + +Mrs. Presty had lived in the past age when persons occasionally +used metaphor as an aid to the expression of their ideas. Being +called upon to explain herself, she did it in metaphor, to her +own entire satisfaction. + +"Our learned friend here reminds me, my dear Catherine, of a +traveler exploring a strange town. He takes a turning, in the +confident expectation that it will reward him by leading him to +some satisfactory result--and he finds himself in a blind alley, +or, as the French put it (I speak French fluently), in a _cool de +sack_. Do I make my meaning clear, Mr. Sarrazin?" + +"Not the least in the world, ma'am." + +"How very extraordinary! Perhaps I have been misled by my own +vivid imagination. Let me endeavor to express myself plainly--let +me say that my fancy looks prophetically at what you are going to +do, and sincerely wishes you well out of it. Pray go on." + +"And pray speak more plainly than my mother has spoken," Mrs. +Linley added. "As I understood what you said just now, there is a +law, after all, that will protect me in the possession of my +little girl. I don't care what it costs; I want that law." + +"May I ask first," Mr. Sarrazin stipulated, "whether you are +positively resolved not to give way to your husband in this +matter of Kitty?" + +"Positively." + +"One more question, if you please, on a matter of fact. I have +heard that you were married in Scotland. Is that true?" + +"Quite true." + +Mr. Sarrazin exhibited himself once more in a highly +unprofessional aspect. He clapped his hands, and cried, "Bravo!" +as if he had been in a theater. + +Mrs. Linley caught the infection of the lawyer's excitement. "How +dull I am!" she exclaimed. "There is a thing they call +'incompatibility of temper'--and married people sign a paper at +the lawyer's and promise never to trouble each other again as +long as they both live. And they're readier to do it in Scotland +than they are in England. That's what you mean--isn't it?" + +Mr. Sarrazin found it necessary to reassume his professional +character. + +"No, indeed, madam," he said, "I should be unworthy of your +confidence if I proposed nothing better than that. You can only +secure the sole possession of little Kitty by getting the help of +a judge--" + +"Get it at once," Mrs. Linley interposed. + +"And you can only prevail on the judge to listen to you," Mr. +Sarrazin proceeded, "in one way. Summon your courage, madam. +Apply for a divorce." + +There was a sudden silence. Mrs. Linley rose trembling, as if she +saw--not good Mr. Sarrazin--but the devil himself tempting her. +"Do you hear that?" she said to her mother. + +Mrs. Presty only bowed. + +"Think of the dreadful exposure!" + +Mrs. Presty bowed again. + +The lawyer had his opportunity now. + +"Well, Mrs. Linley," he asked, "what do you say?" + +"No--never!" She made that positive reply; and disposed +beforehand of everything that might have been urged, in the way +of remonstrance and persuasion, by leaving the room. The two +persons who remained, sitting opposite to each other, took +opposite views. + +"Mr. Sarrazin, she won't do it." + +"Mrs. Presty, she will." + + + +Chapter XXVI. + + +Decision. + + +Punctual to his fishing appointment with Kitty, Mr. Sarrazin was +out in the early morning, waiting on the pier. + +Not a breath of wind was stirring; the lazy mist lay asleep on +the further shore of the lake. Here and there only the dim tops +of the hills rose like shadows cast by the earth on the faint +gray of the sky. Nearer at hand, the waters of the lake showed a +gloomy surface; no birds flew over the colorless calm; no passing +insects tempted the fish to rise. From time to time a last-left +leaf on the wooded shore dropped noiselessly and died. No +vehicles passed as yet on the lonely road; no voices were audible +from the village; slow and straight wreaths of smoke stole their +way out of the chimneys, and lost their vapor in the misty sky. +The one sound that disturbed the sullen repose of the morning was +the tramp of the lawyer's footsteps, as he paced up and down the +pier. He thought of London and its ceaseless traffic, its roaring +high tide of life in action--and he said to himself, with the +strong conviction of a town-bred man: How miserable this is! + +A voice from the garden cheered him, just as he reached the end +of the pier for the fiftieth time, and looked with fifty-fold +intensity of dislike at the dreary lake. + +There stood Kitty behind the garden-gate, with a fishing-rod in +each hand. A tin box was strapped on one side of her little body +and a basket on the other. Burdened with these impediments, she +required assistance. Susan had let her out of the house; and +Samuel must now open the gate for her. She was pleased to observe +that the raw morning had reddened her friend's nose; and she +presented her own nose to notice as exhibiting perfect sympathy +in this respect. Feeling a misplaced confidence in Mr. Sarrazin's +knowledge and experience as an angler, she handed the +fishing-rods to him. "My fingers are cold," she said; "you bait +the hooks." He looked at his young friend in silent perplexity; +she pointed to the tin box. "Plenty of bait there, Samuel; we +find maggots do best." Mr. Sarrazin eyed the box with undisguised +disgust; and Kitty made an unexpected discovery. "You seem to +know nothing about it," she said. And Samuel answered, cordially, +"Nothing!" In five minutes more he found himself by the side of +his young friend--with his hook baited, his line in the water, +and strict injunctions to keep an eye on the float. + +They began to fish. + +Kitty looked at her companion, and looked away again in silence. +By way of encouraging her to talk, the good-natured lawyer +alluded to what she had said when they parted overnight. "You +wanted to ask me something," he reminded her. "What is it?" + +Without one preliminary word of warning to prepare him for +the shock, Kitty answered: "I want you to tell me what has +become of papa, and why Syd has gone away and left me. You know +who Syd is, don't you?" + +The only alternative left to Mr. Sarrazin was to plead ignorance. +While Kitty was instructing him on the subject of her governess, +he had time to consider what he should say to her next. The +result added one more to the lost opportunities of Mr. Sarrazin's +life. + +"You see," the child gravely continued, "you are a clever man; +and you have come here to help mamma. I have got that much out of +grandmamma, if I have got nothing else. Don't look at me; look at +your float. My papa has gone away and Syd has left me without +even saying good-by, and we have given up our nice old house in +Scotland and come to live here. I tell you I don't understand it. +If you see your float begin to tremble, and then give a little +dip down as if it was going to sink, pull your line out of the +water; you will most likely find a fish at the end of it. When I +ask mamma what all this means, she says there is a reason, and I +am not old enough to understand it, and she looks unhappy, and +she gives me a kiss, and it ends in that way. You've got a bite; +no you haven't; it's only a nibble; fish are so sly. And +grandmamma is worse still. Sometimes she tells me I'm a spoiled +child; and sometimes she says well-behaved little girls don't ask +questions. That's nonsense--and I think it's hard on me. You look +uncomfortable. Is it my fault? I don't want to bother you; I only +want to know why Syd has gone away. When I was younger I might +have thought the fairies had taken her. Oh, no! that won't do any +longer; I'm too old. Now tell me." + +Mr. Sarrazin weakly attempted to gain time: he looked at his +watch. Kitty looked over his shoulder: "Oh, we needn't be in a +hurry; breakfast won't be ready for half an hour yet. Plenty of +time to talk of Syd; go on." + +Most unwisely (seeing that he had to deal with a clever child, +and that child a girl), Mr. Sarrazin tried flat denial as a way +out of the difficulty. He said: "I don't know why she has gone +away." The next question followed instantly: "Well, then, what do +you _think_ about it?" In sheer despair, the persecuted friend +said the first thing that came into his head. + +"I think she has gone to be married." + +Kitty was indignant. + +"Gone to be married, and not tell me!" she exclaimed. "What do +you mean by that?" + +Mr. Sarrazin's professional experience of women and marriages +failed to supply him with an answer. In this difficulty he +exerted his imagination, and invented something that no woman +ever did yet. "She's waiting," he said, "to see how her marriage +succeeds, before she tells anybody about it." + +This sounded probable to the mind of a child. + +"I hope she hasn't married a beast," Kitty said, with a serious +face and an ominous shake of the head. "When shall I hear from +Syd?" + +Mr. Sarrazin tried another prevarication--with better results +this time. "You will be the first person she writes to, of +course." As that excusable lie passed his lips, his float began +to tremble. Here was a chance of changing the subject--"I've got +a fish!" he cried. + +Kitty was immediately interested. She threw down her own rod, and +assisted her ignorant companion. A wretched little fish appeared +in the air, wriggling. "It's a roach," Kitty pronounced. "It's in +pain," the merciful lawyer added; "give it to me." Kitty took it +off the hook, and obeyed. Mr. Sarrazin with humane gentleness of +handling put it back into the water. "Go, and God bless you," +said this excellent man, as the roach disappeared joyously with a +flick of its tail. Kitty was scandalized. "That's not sport!" she +said. "Oh, yes, it is," he answered--"sport to the fish." + +They went on with their angling. What embarrassing question would +Kitty ask next? Would she want to be told why her father had left +her? No: the last image in the child's mind had been the image of +Sydney Westerfield. She was still thinking of it when she spoke +again. + +"I wonder whether you're right about Syd?" she began. "You might +be mistaken, mightn't you? I sometimes fancy mamma and Sydney may +have had a quarrel. Would you mind asking mamma if that's true?" +the affectionate little creature said, anxiously. "You see, I +can't help talking of Syd, I'm so fond of her; and I do miss her +so dreadfully every now and then; and I'm afraid--oh, dear, dear, +I'm afraid I shall never see her again!" She let her rod drop on +the pier, and put her little hands over her face and burst out +crying. + +Shocked and distressed, good Mr. Sarrazin kissed her, and +consoled her, and told another excusable lie. + +"Try to be comforted, Kitty; I'm sure you will see her again." + +His conscience reproached him as he held out that false hope. It +could never be! The one unpardonable sin, in the judgment of +fallible human creatures like herself, was the sin that Sydney +Westerfield had committed. Is there something wrong in human +nature? or something wrong in human laws? All that is best and +noblest in us feels the influence of love--and the rules of +society declare that an accident of position shall decide whether +love is a virtue or a crime. + +These thoughts were in the lawyer's mind. They troubled him and +disheartened him: it was a relief rather than an interruption +when he felt Kitty's hand on his arm. She had dried her tears, +with a child's happy facility in passing from one emotion to +another, and was now astonished and interested by a marked change +in the weather. + +"Look for the lake!" she cried. "You can't see it." + +A dense white fog was closing round them. Its stealthy advance +over the water had already begun to hide the boathouse at the end +of the pier from view. The raw cold of the atmosphere made the +child shiver. As Mr. Sarrazin took her hand to lead her indoors, +he turned and looked back at the faint outline of the boathouse, +disappearing in the fog. Kitty wondered. "Do you see anything?" +she asked. + +He answered that there was nothing to see, in the absent tone of +a man busy with his own thoughts. They took the garden path which +led to the cottage. As they reached the door he roused himself, +and looked round again in the direction of the invisible lake. + +"Was the boat-house of any use now," he inquired--"was there a +boat in it, for instance?" "There was a capital boat, fit to go +anywhere." "And a man to manage it?" "To be sure! the gardener +was the man; he had been a sailor once; and he knew the lake as +well as--" Kitty stopped, at a loss for a comparison. "As well as +you know your multiplication table?" said Mr. Sarrazin, dropping +his serious questions on a sudden. Kitty shook her head. "Much +better," she honestly acknowledged. + +Opening the breakfast-room door they saw Mrs. Presty making +coffee. Kitty at once retired. When she had been fishing, her +grandmamma inculcated habits of order by directing her to take +the rods to pieces, and to put them away in their cases in the +lumber-room. While she was absent, Mr. Sarrazin profited by the +opportunity, and asked if Mrs. Linley had thought it over in the +night, and had decided on applying for a Divorce. + +"I know nothing about my daughter," Mrs. Presty answered, "except +that she had a bad night. Thinking, no doubt, over your advice," +the old lady added with a mischievous smile. + +"Will you kindly inquire if Mrs. Linley has made up her mind +yet?" the lawyer ventured to say. + +"Isn't that your business?" Mrs. Presty asked slyly. "Suppose you +write a little note, and I will send it up to her room." The +worldly-wisdom which prompted this suggestion contemplated a +possible necessity for calling a domestic council, assembled to +consider the course of action which Mrs. Linley would do well to +adopt. If the influence of her mother was among the forms of +persuasion which might be tried, that wary relative maneuvered to +make the lawyer speak first, and so to reserve to herself the +advantage of having the last word. + +Patient Mr. Sarrazin wrote the note. + +He modestly asked for instructions; and he was content to receive +them in one word--Yes or No. In the event of the answer being +Yes, he would ask for a few minutes' conversation with Mrs. +Linley, at her earliest convenience. Tha t was all. + +The reply was returned in a form which left Yes to be inferred: +"I will receive you as soon as you have finished your breakfast." + + +Chapter XXVII. + + +Resolution. + + +Having read Mrs. Linley's answer, Mr. Sarrazin looked out of the +breakfast-room window, and saw that the fog had reached the +cottage. Before Mrs. Presty could make any remark on the change +in the weather, he surprised her by an extraordinary question. + +"Is there an upper room here, ma'am, which has a view of the road +before your front gate?" + +"Certainly!" + +"And can I go into it without disturbing anybody?" + +Mrs. Presty said, "Of course!" with an uplifting of her eye brows +which expressed astonishment not unmixed with suspicion. "Do you +want to go up now?" she added, "or will you wait till you have +had your breakfast?" + +"I want to go up, if you please, before the fog thickens. Oh, +Mrs. Presty, I am ashamed to trouble you! Let the servant show me +the room." + +No. For the first time in her life Mrs. Presty insisted on doing +servant's duty. If she had been crippled in both legs her +curiosity would have helped her to get up the stairs on her +hands. "There!" she said, opening the door of the upper room, and +placing herself exactly in the middle of it, so that she could +see all round her: "Will that do for you?" + +Mr. Sarrazin went to the window; hid himself behind the curtain; +and cautiously peeped out. In half a minute he turned his back on +the misty view of the road, and said to himself: "Just what I +expected." + +Other women might have asked what this mysterious proceeding +meant. Mrs. Presty's sense of her own dignity adopted a system of +independent discovery. To Mr. Sarrazin's amusement, she imitated +him to his face. Advancing to the window, she, too, hid herself +behind the curtain, and she, too, peeped out. Still following her +model, she next turned her back on the view--and then she became +herself again. "Now we have both looked out of window," she said +to the lawyer, in her own inimitably impudent way, "suppose we +compare our impressions." + +This was easily done. They had both seen the same two men walking +backward and forward, opposite the front gate of the cottage. +Before the advancing fog made it impossible to identify him, Mr. +Sarrazin had recognized in one of the men his agreeable +fellow-traveler on the journey from London. The other man--a +stranger--was in all probability an assistant spy obtained in the +neighborhood. This discovery suggested serious embarrassment in +the future. Mrs. Presty asked what was to be done next. Mr. +Sarrazin answered: "Let us have our breakfast." + +In another quarter of an hour they were both in Mrs. Linley's +room. + +Her agitated manner, her reddened eyes, showed that she was still +suffering under the emotions of the past night. The moment the +lawyer approached her, she crossed the room with hurried steps, +and took both his hands in her trembling grasp. "You are a good +man, you are a kind man," she said to him wildly; "you have my +truest respect and regard. Tell me, are +you--really--really--really sure that the one way in which I can +keep my child with me is the way you mentioned last night?" + +Mr. Sarrazin led her gently back to her chair. + +The sad change in her startled and distressed him. Sincerely, +solemnly even, he declared that the one alternative before her +was the alternative that he had mentioned. He entreated her to +control herself. It was useless, she still held him as if she was +holding to her last hope. + +"Listen to me!" she cried. "There's something more; there's +another chance for me. I must, and will, know what you think of +it." + +"Wait a little. Pray wait a little!" + +"No! not a moment. Is there any hope in appealing to the lawyer +whom Mr. Linley has employed? Let me go back with you to London. +I will persuade him to exert his influence--I will go down on my +knees to him--I will never leave him till I have won him over to +my side--I will take Kitty with me; he shall see us both, and +pity us, and help us!" + +"Hopeless. Quite hopeless, Mrs. Linley." + +"Oh, don't say that!" + +"My dear lady, my poor dear lady, I must say it. The man you are +talking of is the last man in the world to be influenced as you +suppose. He is notoriously a lawyer, and nothing but a lawyer. If +you tried to move him to pity you, he would say, 'Madam, I am +doing my duty to my client'; and he would ring his bell and have +you shown out. Yes! even if he saw you crushed and crying at his +feet." + +Mrs. Presty interfered for the first time. + +"In your place, Catherine," she said, "I would put my foot down +on that man and crush _him_. Consent to the Divorce, and you may +do it." + +Mrs. Linley lay prostrate in her chair. The excitement which had +sustained her thus far seemed to have sunk with the sinking of +her last hope. Pale, exhausted, yielding to hard necessity, she +looked up when her mother said, "Consent to the Divorce," and +answered, "I have consented." + +"And trust me," Mr. Sarrazin said fervently, "to see that Justice +is done, and to protect you in the meanwhile." + +Mrs. Presty added her tribute of consolation. + +"After all," she asked, "what is there to terrify you in the +prospect of a Divorce? You won't hear what people say about +it--for we see no society now. And, as for the newspapers, keep +them out of the house." + +Mrs. Linley answered with a momentary revival of energy + +"It is not the fear of exposure that has tortured me," she said. +"When I was left in the solitude of the night, my heart turned to +Kitty; I felt that any sacrifice of myself might be endured for +her sake. It's the remembrance of my marriage, Mr. Sarrazin, that +is the terrible trial to me. Those whom God has joined together, +let no man put asunder. Is there nothing to terrify me in setting +that solemn command at defiance? I do it--oh, I do it--in +consenting to the Divorce! I renounce the vows which I bound +myself to respect in the presence of God; I profane the +remembrance of eight happy years, hallowed by true love. Ah, you +needn't remind me of what my husband has done. I don't forget how +cruelly he has wronged me; I don't forget that his own act has +cast me from him. But whose act destroys our marriage? Mine, +mine! Forgive me, mamma; forgive me, my kind friend--the horror +that I have of myself forces its way to my lips. No more of it! +My child is my one treasure left. What must I do next? What must +I sign? What must I sacrifice? Tell me--and it shall be done. I +submit! I submit!" + +Delicately and mercifully Mr. Sarrazin answered that sad appeal. + +All that his knowledge, experience and resolution could suggest +he addressed to Mrs. Presty. Mrs. Linley could listen or not +listen, as her own wishes inclined. In the one case or in the +other, her interests would be equally well served. The good +lawyer kissed her hand. "Rest, and recover," he whispered. And +then he turned to her mother--and became a man of business once +more. + +"The first thing I shall do, ma'am, is to telegraph to my agent +in Edinburgh. He will arrange for the speediest possible hearing +of our case in the Court of Session. Make your mind easy so far." + +Mrs. Presty's mind was by this time equally inaccessible to +information and advice. "I want to know what is to be done with +those two men who are watching the gate," was all she said in the +way of reply. + +Mrs. Linley raised her head in alarm. + +"Two!" she exclaimed--and looked at Mr. Sarrazin. "You only spoke +of one last night." + +"And I add another this morning. Rest your poor head, Mrs. +Linley, I know how it aches; I know how it burns." He still +persisted in speaking to Mrs. Presty. "One of those two men will +follow me to the station, and see me off on my way to London. The +other will look after you, or your daughter, or the maid, or any +other person who may try to get away into hiding with Kitty. And +they are both keeping close to the gate, in the fear of losing +sight of us in the fog." + +"I wish we lived in the Middle Ages!" said Mrs. Presty. + +"What would be the use of that, ma'am?" + +"Good heavens, Mr. Sarrazin, don't you see? In those grand old +days you would have taken a dagger, and the gardener would have +taken a dagger, and you would have stolen out, and stabbed those +two villains as a matter of course. And this is the age of +progress! The vilest rogue in existence is a sacred person whose +life we are bound to respect. Ah, what good that national hero +would have done who put his barrels of gunpowder in the right +place on the Fifth of November! I have always said it, and I +stick to it, Guy Fawkes was a great statesman." + +In the meanwhile Mrs. Linley was not resting, and not listening +to the expression of her mother's political sentiments. She was +intently watching Mr. Sarrazin's face. + +"There is danger threatening us," she said. "Do you see a way out +of it?" + +To persist in trying to spare her was plainly useless; Mr. +Sarrazin answered her directly. + +"The danger of legal proceedings to obtain possession of the +child," he said, "is more near and more serious than I thought it +right to acknowledge, while you were in doubt which way to +decide. I was careful--too careful, perhaps--not to unduly +influence you in a matter of the utmost importance to your future +life. But you have made up your mind. I don't scruple now to +remind you that an interval of time must pass before the decree +for your Divorce can be pronounced, and the care of the child be +legally secured to the mother. The only doubt and the only danger +are there. If you are not frightened by the prospect of a +desperate venture which some women would shrink from, I believe I +see a way of baffling the spies." + +Mrs. Linley started to her feet. "Say what I am to do," she +cried, "and judge for yourself if I am as easily frightened as +some women." + +The lawyer pointed with a persuasive smile to her empty chair. +"If you allow yourself to be excited," he said, "you will +frighten me. Please--oh, please sit down again!" + +Mrs. Linley felt the strong will, asserting itself in terms of +courteous entreaty. She obeyed. Mrs. Presty had never admired the +lawyer as she admired him now. "Is that how you manage your +wife?" she asked. + +Mr. Sarrazin was equal to the occasion, whatever it might be. "In +your time, ma'am," he said, "did you reveal the mysteries of +conjugal life?" He turned to Mrs. Linley. "I have something to +ask first," he resumed, "and then you shall hear what I propose. +How many people serve you in this cottage?" + +"Three. Our landlady, who is housekeeper and cook. Our own maid. +And the landlady's daughter, who does the housework." + +"Any out-of-door servants?" + +"Only the gardener." + +"Can you trust these people?" + +"In what way, Mr. Sarrazin?" + +"Can you trust them with a secret which only concerns yourself?" + +"Certainly! The maid has been with us for years; no truer woman +ever lived. The good old landlady often drinks tea with us. Her +daughter is going to be married; and I have given the +wedding-dress. As for the gardener, let Kitty settle the matter +with him, and I answer for the rest. Why are you pointing to the +window?" + +"Look out, and tell me what you see." + +"I see the fog." + +"And I, Mrs. Linley, have seen the boathouse. While the spies are +watching your gate, what do you say to crossing the lake, under +cover of the fog?" + + + +FOURTH BOOK. + +Chapter XXVIII. + + +Mr. Randal Linley. + + +Winter had come and gone; spring was nearing its end, and London +still suffered under the rigid regularity of easterly winds. +Although in less than a week summer would begin with the first of +June, Mr. Sarrazin was glad to find his office warmed by a fire, +when he arrived to open the letters of the day. + +The correspondence in general related exclusively to proceedings +connected with the law. Two letters only presented an exception +to the general rule. The first was addressed in Mrs. Linley's +handwriting, and bore the postmark of Hanover. Kitty's mother had +not only succeeded in getting to the safe side of the lake--she +and her child had crossed the German Ocean as well. In one +respect her letter was a remarkable composition. Although it was +written by a lady, it was short enough to be read in less than a +minute: + + + +"MY DEAR MR. SARRAZIN--I have just time to write by this +evening's post. Our excellent courier has satisfied himself that +the danger of discovery has passed away. The wretches have been +so completely deceived that they are already on their way back to +England, to lie in wait for us at Folkestone and Dover. To-morrow +morning we leave this charming place--oh, how unwillingly!--for +Bremen, to catch the steamer to Hull. You shall hear from me +again on our arrival. Gratefully yours, + + +CATHERINE LINLEY." + + + +Mr. Sarrazin put this letter into a private drawer and smiled as +he turned the key. "Has she made up her mind at last?" he asked +himself. "But for the courier, I shouldn't feel sure of her even +now." + +The second letter agreeably surprised him. It was announced that +the writer had just returned from the United States; it invited +him to dinner that evening; and it was signed "Randal Linley." In +Mr. Sarrazin's estimation, Randal had always occupied a higher +place than his brother. The lawyer had known Mrs. Linley before +her marriage, and had been inclined to think that she would have +done wisely if she had given her hand to the younger brother +instead of the elder. His acquaintance with Randal ripened +rapidly into friendship. But his relations with Herbert made no +advance toward intimacy: there was a gentlemanlike cordiality +between them, and nothing more. + +At seven o'clock the two friends sat at a snug little table, in +the private room of a hotel, with an infinite number of questions +to ask of each other, and with nothing to interrupt them but a +dinner of such extraordinary merit that it insisted on being +noticed, from the first course to the last. + +Randal began. "Before we talk of anything else," he said, "tell +me about Catherine and the child. Where are they?" + +"On their way to England, after a residence in Germany." + +"And the old lady?" + +"Mrs. Presty has been staying with friends in London." + +"What! have they parted company? Has there been a quarrel?" + +"Nothing of the sort; a friendly separation, in the strictest +sense of the word. Oh, Randal, what are you about? Don't put +pepper into this perfect soup. It's as good as the _gras double_ +at the Cafe Anglais in Paris." + +"So it is; I wasn't paying proper attention to it. But I am +anxious about Catherine. Why did she go abroad?" + +"Haven't you heard from her?" + +"Not for six months or more. I innocently vexed her by writing a +little too hopefully about Herbert. Mrs. Presty answered my +letter, and recommended me not to write again. It isn't like +Catherine to bear malice." + +"Don't even think such a thing possible!" the lawyer answered, +earnestly. "Attribute her silence to the right cause. Terrible +anxieties have been weighing on her mind since you went to +America." + +"Anxieties caused by my brother? Oh, I hope not!" + +"Caused entirely by your brother--if I must tell the truth. Can't +you guess how?" + +"Is it the child? You don't mean to tell me that Herbert has +taken Kitty away from her mother!" + +"While I am her mother's lawyer, my friend, your brother won't do +that. Welcome back to England in the first glass of sherry; good +wine, but a little too dry for my taste. No, we won't talk of +domestic troubles just yet. You shall hear all about it after +dinner. What made you go to America? You haven't been delivering +lectures, have you?" + +"I have been enjoying myself among the most hospitable people in +the world." + +Mr. Sarrazin shook his head; he had a case of copyright in hand +just then. "A people to be pitied," he said. + +"Why?" + +"Because their Government forgets what is due to the honor of the +nation." + +"How?" + +"In this way. The honor of a nation which confers right of +property in works of art, produced by its own citizens, is surely +concerned in protecting from theft works of art produced by other +citizens." + +"That's not the fault of the people." + +"Certainly not. I have already said it's the fault of the +Government. Let's attend to the fish now." + +Randal took his friend's advice. "Good sauce, isn't it?" he said. + +The epicure entered a protest. "Good?" he repeated. "My dear +fellow, it's absolute perfection. I don't like to cast a slur on +English cookery. But think of melted butter, and tell me if +anybody but a foreigner (I don't like foreigners, but I give them +their due) could have produced this white wine sauce? So you +really had no particular motive in going to America?" + +"On the contrary, I had a very particular motive. Just remember +what my life used to be when I was in Scotland--and look at my +life now! No Mount Morven; no model farm to look after; no +pleasant Highland neighbors; I can't go to my brother while he is +leading his present life; I have hurt Catherine's feelings; I +have lost dear little Kitty; I am not obliged to earn my living +(more's the pity); I don't care about politics; I have a pleasure +in eating harmless creatures, but no pleasure in shooting them. +What is there left for me to do, but to try change of scene, and +go roaming around the world, a restless creature without an +object in life? Have I done something wrong again? It isn't the +pepper this time--and yet you're looking at me as if I was trying +your temper." + +The French side of Mr. Sarrazin's nature had got the better of +him once more. He pointed indignantly to a supreme preparation of +fowl on his friend's plate. "Do I actually see you picking out +your truffles, and putting them on one side?" he asked. + +"Well," Randal acknowledged, "I don't care about truffles." + +Mr. Sarrazin rose, with his plate in his hand and his fork ready +for action. He walked round the table to his friend's side, and +reverently transferred the neglected truffles to his own plate. +"Randal, you will live to repent this," he said solemnly. "In the +meantime, I am the gainer." Until he had finished the truffles, +no word fell from his lips. "I think I should have enjoyed them +more," he remarked, "if I had concentrated my attention by +closing my eyes; but you would have thought I was going to +sleep." He recovered his English nationality, after this, until +the dessert had been placed on the table, and the waiter was +ready to leave the room. At that auspicious moment, he underwent +another relapse. He insisted on sending his compliments and +thanks to the cook. + +"At last," said Randal, "we are by ourselves--and now I want to +know why Catherine went to Germany." + + +Chapter XXIX. + +Mr. Sarrazin. + +As a lawyer, Randal's guest understood that a narrative of events +can only produce the right effect, on one condition: it must +begin at the beginning. Having related all that had been said and +done during his visit to the cottage, including his first efforts +in the character of an angler under Kitty's supervision, he +stopped to fill his glass again--and then astonished Randal by +describing the plan that he had devised for escaping from the +spies by crossing the lake in the fog. + +"What did the ladies say to it?" Randal inquired. "Who spoke +first?" + +"Mrs. Presty, of course! She objected to risk her life on the +water, in a fog. Mrs. Linley showed a resolution for which I was +not prepared. She thought of Kitty, saw the value of my +suggestion, and went away at once to consult with the landlady. +In the meantime I sent for the gardener, and told him what I was +thinking of. He was one of those stolid Englishmen, who possess +resources which don't express themselves outwardly. Judging by +his face, you would have said he was subsiding into a slumber +under the infliction of a sermon, instead of listening to a +lawyer proposing a stratagem. When I had done, the man showed the +metal he was made of. In plain English, he put three questions +which gave me the highest opinion of his intelligence. 'How much +luggage, sir?' 'As little as they can conveniently take with +them,' I said. 'How many persons?' 'The two ladies, the child, +and myself.' 'Can you row, sir?' 'In any water you like, Mr. +Gardener, fresh or salt'. Think of asking Me, an athletic +Englishman, if I could row! In an hour more we were ready to +embark, and the blessed fog was thicker than ever. Mrs. Presty +yielded under protest; Kitty was wild with delight; her mother +was quiet and resigned. But one circumstance occurred that I +didn't quite understand--the presence of a stranger on the pier +with a gun in his hand." + +"You don't mean one of the spies?" + +"Nothing of the sort; I mean an idea of the gardener's. He had +been a sailor in his time--and that's a trade which teaches a man +(if he's good for anything) to think, and act on his thought, at +one and the same moment. He had taken a peep at the blackguards +in front of the house, and had recognized the shortest of the two +as a native of the place, perfectly well aware that one of the +features attached to the cottage was a boathouse. 'That chap is +not such a fool as he looks,' says the gardener. 'If he mentions +the boat-house, the other fellow from London may have his +suspicions. I thought I would post my son on the pier--that quiet +young man there with the gun--to keep a lookout. If he sees +another boat (there are half a dozen on this side of the lake) +putting off after us, he has orders to fire, on the chance of our +hearing him. A little notion of mine, sir, to prevent our being +surprised in the fog. Do you see any objection to it?' Objection! +In the days when diplomacy was something more than a solemn +pretense, what a member of Congress that gardener would have +made! Well, we shipped our oars, and away we went. Not quite +haphazard--for we had a compass with us. Our course was as +straight as we could go, to a village on the opposite side of the +lake, called Brightfold. Nothing happened for the first quarter +of an hour--and then, by the living Jingo (excuse my vulgarity), +we heard the gun!" + +"What did you do?" + +"Went on rowing, and held a council. This time I came out as the +clever one of the party. The men were following us in the dark; +they would have to guess at the direction we had taken, and they +would most likely assume (in such weather as we had) that we +should choose the shortest way across the lake. At my suggestion +we changed our course, and made for a large town, higher up on +the shore, called Tawley. We landed, and waited for events, and +made no discovery of another boat behind us. The fools had +justified my confidence in them--they had gone to Brightfold. +There was half-an-hour to spare before the next train came to +Tawley; and the fog was beginning to lift on that side of the +lake. We looked at the shops; and I made a purchase in the town." + +"Stop a minute," said Randal. "Is Brightfold on the railway?" + +"No." + +"Is there an electric telegraph at the place?" + +"Yes." + +"That was awkward, wasn't it? The first thing those men would do +would be to telegraph to Tawley." + +"Not a doubt of it. How would they describe us, do you think?" + +Randal answered. "A middle-aged gentleman--two ladies, one of +them elderly--and a little girl. Quite enough to identify you at +Tawley, if the station-master understood the message." + +"Shall I tell you what the station-master discovered, with the +message in his hand? No elderly lady, no middle-aged gentleman; +nothing more remarkable than _one_ lady--and a little boy." + +Randal's face brightened. "You parted company, of course," he +said; "and you disguised Kitty! How did you manage it?" + +"Didn't I say just now that we looked at the shops, and that I +made a purchase in the town? A boy's ready-made suit--not at all +a bad fit for Kitty! Mrs. Linley put on the suit, and tucked up +the child's hair under a straw hat, in an empty yard--no idlers +about in that bad weather. We said good-by, and parted, with +grievous misgivings on my side, which proved (thank God!) to have +been quite needless. Kitty and her mother went to the station, +and Mrs. Presty and I hired a carriage, and drove away to the +head of the lake, to catch the train to London. Do you know, +Randal, I have altered my opinion of Mrs. Presty?" + +Randal smiled. "You too have found something in that old woman," +he said, "which doesn't appear on the surface." + +"The occasion seems to bring that something out," the lawyer +remarked. "When I proposed the separation, and mentioned my +reasons, I expected to find some difficulty in persuading Mrs. +Presty to give up the adventurous journey with her daughter and +her grandchild. I reminded her that she had friends in London who +would receive her, and got snubbed for taking the liberty. 'I +know that as well as you do. Come along--I'm ready to go with +you.' It isn't agreeable to my self-esteem to own it, but I +expected to hear her say that she would consent to any sacrifice +for the sake of her dear daughter. No such clap-trap as that +passed her lips. She owned the true motive with a superiority to +cant which won my sincerest respect. 'I'll do anything,' she +said, 'to baffle Herbert Linley and the spies he has set to watch +us.' I can't tell you how glad I was that she had her reward on +the same day. We were too late at the station, and we had to wait +for the next train. And what do you think happened? The two +scoundrels followed us instead of following Mrs. Linley! They had +inquired no doubt at the livery stables where we hired the +carriage--had recognized the description of us--and had taken the +long journey to London for nothing. Mrs. Presty and I shook hands +at the terminus the best friends that ever traveled together with +the best of motives. After that, I think I deserve another glass +of wine." + +"Go on with your story, and you shall have another bottle!" cried +Randal. "What did Catherine and the child do after they left +you?" + +"They did the safest thing--they left England. Mrs. Linley +distinguished herself on this occasion. It was her excellent idea +to avoid popular ports of departure, like Folkestone and Dover, +which were sure to be watched, and to get away (if the thing +could be done) from some place on the east coast. We consulted +our guide and found that a line of steamers sailed from Hull to +Bremen once a week. A tedious journey from our part of +Cumberland, with some troublesome changing of trains, but they +got there in time to embark. My first news of them reached me in +a telegram from Bremen. There they waited for further +instructions. I sent the instructions by a thoroughly capable and +trustworthy man--an Italian courier, known to me by an experience +of twenty years. Shall I confess it? I thought I had done rather +a clever thing in providing Mrs. Linley with a friend in need +while I was away from her." + +"I think so, too," said Randal. + +"Wrong, completely wrong. I had made a mistake--I had been too +clever, and I got my reward accordingly. You know how I advised +Mrs. Linley?" + +"Yes. You persuaded her, with the greatest difficulty, to apply +for a Divorce." + +"Very well. I had made all the necessary arrangements for the +trial, when I received a letter from Germany. My charming client +had changed her mind, and declined to apply for the Divorce. +There was my reward for having been too clever!" + +"I don't understand you." + +"My dear fellow, you are dull to-night. I had been so successful +in protecting Mrs. Linley and the child, and my excellent courier +had found such a charming place of retreat for them in one of the +suburbs of Hanover, that 'she saw no reason now for taking the +shocking course that I had recommended to her--so repugnant to +all her most cherished convictions; so sinful and so shameful in +its doing of evil that good might come. Experience had convinced +her that (thanks to me) there was no fear of Kitty being +discovered and taken from her. She therefore begged me to write +to my agent in Edinburgh, and tell him that her application to +the court was withdrawn.' Ah, you understand my position at last. +The headstrong woman was running a risk which renewed all my +anxieties. By every day's post I expected to hear that she had +paid the penalty of her folly, and that your brother had +succeeded in getting possession of the child. Wait a little +before you laugh at me. But for the courier, the thing would have +really happened a week since." + +Randal looked astonished. "Months must have passed," he objected. +"Surely, after that lapse of time, Mrs. Linley must have been +safe from discovery." + +"Take your own positive view of it! I only know that the thing +happened. And why not? The luck had begun by being on one +side--why shouldn't the other side have had its turn next?" + +"Do you really believe in luck?" + +"Devoutly. A lawyer must believe in something. He knows the law +too well to put any faith in that: and his clients present to him +(if he is a man of any feeling) a hideous view of human nature. +The poor devil believes in luck--rather than believe in nothing. +I think it quite likely that accident helped the person employed +by the husband to discover the wife and child. Anyhow, Mrs. +Linley and Kitty were seen in the streets of Hanover; seen, +recognized, and followed. The courier happened to be with +them--luck again! For thirty years and more, he had been +traveling in every part of Europe; there was not a landlord of +the smallest pretensions anywhere who didn't know him and like +him. 'I pretended not to see that anybody was following us,' he +said (writing from Hanover to relieve my anxiety); 'and I took +the ladies to a hotel. The hotel possessed two merits from our +point of view--it had a way out at the back, through the stables, +and it was kept by a landlord who was an excellent good friend of +mine. I arranged with him what he was to say when inquiries were +made; and I kept my poor ladies prisoners in their lodgings for +three days. The end of it is that Mr. Linley's policeman has gone +away to watch the Channel steam-service, while we return quietly +by way of Bremen and Hull.' There is the courier's account of it. +I have only to add that poor Mrs. Linley has been fairly +frightened into submission. She changes her mind again, and +pledges herself once more to apply for the Divorce. If we are +only lucky enough to get our case heard without any very serious +delay, I am not afraid of my client slipping through my fingers +for the second time. When will the courts of session be open to +us? You have lived in Scotland, Randal--" + +"But I haven't lived in the courts of law. I wish I could give +you the information you want." + +Mr. Sarrazin looked at his watch. "For all I know to the +contrary," he said, "we may be wasting precious time while we are +talking here. Will you excuse me if I go away to my club?" + +"Are you going in search of information?" + +"Yes. We have some inveterate old whist-players who are always to +be found in the card-room. One of them formerly practiced, I +believe, in the Scotch courts. It has just occurred to me that +the chance is worth trying." + +"Will you let me know if you succeed?" Randal asked. + +The lawyer took his hand at parting. "You seem to be almost as +anxious about it as I am," he said. + +"To tell you the truth, I am a little alarmed when I think of +Catherine. If there is another long delay, how do we know what +may happen before the law has confirmed the mother's claim to the +child? Let me send one of the servants here to wait at your club. +Will you give him a line telling me when the trial is likely to +take place?" + +"With the greatest pleasure. Good-night." + +Left alone, Randal sat by the fireside for a while, thinking of +the future. The prospect, as he saw it, disheartened him. As a +means of employing his mind on a more agreeable subject for +reflection, he opened his traveling desk and took out two or +three letters. They had been addressed to him, while he was in +America, by Captain Bennydeck. + +The captain had committed an error of which most of us have been +guilty in our time. He had been too exclusively devoted to work +that interested him to remember what was due to the care of his +health. The doctor's warnings had been neglected; his +over-strained nerves had given way; and the man whose strong +constitution had resisted cold and starvation in the Arctic +wastes, had broken down under stress of brain-work in London. + +This was the news which the first of the letters contained. + +The second, written under dictation, alluded briefly to the +remedies suggested. In the captain's case, the fresh air +recommended was the air of the sea. At the same time he was +forbidden to receive either letters or telegrams, during his +absence from town, until the doctor had seen him again. These +instructions pointed, in Captain Bennydeck's estimation, to +sailing for pleasure's sake, and therefore to hiring a yacht. + +The third and last letter announced that the yacht had been +found, and described the captain's plans when the vessel was +ready for sea. + +He proposed to sail here and there about the Channel, wherever +it might please the wind to take him. Friends would accompany +him, but not in any number. The yacht was not large enough to +accommodate comfortably more than one or two guests at a time. +Every now and then, the vessel would come to an anchor in the bay +of the little coast town of Sandyseal, to accommodate friends +going and coming and (in spite of medical advice) to receive +letters. "You may have heard of Sandyseal," the Captain wrote, +"as one of the places which have lately been found out by the +doctors. They are recommending the air to patients suffering from +nervous disorders all over England. The one hotel in the place, +and the few cottages which let lodgings, are crammed, as I hear, +and the speculative builder is beginning his operations at such a +rate that Sandyseal will be no longer recognizable in a few +months more. Before the crescents and terraces and grand hotels +turn the town into a fashionable watering-place, I want to take a +last look at scenes familiar to me under their old aspect. If you +are inclined to wonder at my feeling such a wish as this, I can +easily explain myself. Two miles inland from Sandyseal, there is +a lonely old moated house. In that house I was born. When you +return from America, write to me at the post-office, or at the +hotel (I am equally well known in both places), and let us +arrange for a speedy meeting. I wish I could ask you to come and +see me in my birth-place. It was sold, years since, under +instructions in my father's will, and was purchased for the use +of a community of nuns. We may look at the outside, and we can do +no more. In the meantime, don't despair of my recovery; the sea +is my old friend, and my trust is in God's mercy." + +These last lines were added in a postscript: + +"Have you heard any more of that poor girl, the daughter of my +old friend Roderick Westerfield--whose sad story would never have +been known to me but for you? I feel sure that you have good +reasons for not telling me the name of the man who has misled +her, or the address at which she may be found. But you may one +day be at liberty to break your silence. In that case, don't +hesitate to do so because there may happen to be obstacles in my +way. No difficulties discourage me, when my end in view is the +saving of a soul in peril." + +Randal returned to his desk to write to the Captain. He had only +got as far as the first sentences, when the servant returned with +the lawyer's promised message. Mr. Sarrazin's news was +communicated in these cheering terms: + +"I am a firmer believer in luck than ever. If we only make +haste--and won't I make haste!--we may get the Divorce, as I +calculate, in three weeks' time." + + + +Chapter XXX. + + +The Lord President. + + +Mrs. Linley's application for a Divorce was heard in the first +division of the Court of Session at Edinburgh, the Lord President +being the judge. + +To the disappointment of the large audience assembled, no defense +was attempted on the part of the husband--a wise decision, seeing +that the evidence of the wife and her witnesses was beyond +dispute. But one exciting incident occurred toward the close of +the proceedings. Sudden illness made Mrs. Linley's removal +necessary, at the moment of all others most interesting to +herself--the moment before the judge's decision was announced. + +But, as the event proved, the poor lady's withdrawal was the most +fortunate circumstance that could have occurred, in her own +interests. After condemning the husband's conduct with unsparing +severity, the Lord President surprised most of the persons +present by speaking of the wife in these terms: + +"Grievously as Mrs. Linley has been injured, the evidence shows +that she was herself by no means free from blame. She has been +guilty, to say the least of it, of acts of indiscretion. When the +criminal attachment which had grown up between Mr. Herbert Linley +and Miss Westerfield had been confessed to her, she appears to +have most unreasonably overrated whatever merit there might have +been in their resistance to the final temptation. She was indeed +so impulsively ready to forgive (without waiting to see if the +event justified the exercise of mercy) that she owns to having +given her hand to Miss Westerfield, at parting, not half an hour +after that young person's shameless forgetfulness of the claims +of modesty, duty and gratitude had been first communicated to +her. To say that this was the act of an inconsiderate woman, +culpably indiscreet and, I had almost added, culpably indelicate, +is only to say what she has deserved. On the next occasion to +which I feel bound to advert, her conduct was even more deserving +of censure. She herself appears to have placed the temptation +under which he fell in her husband's way, and so (in some degree +at least) to have provoked the catastrophe which has brought her +before this court. I allude, it is needless to say, to her having +invited the governess--then out of harm's way; then employed +elsewhere--to return to her house, and to risk (what actually +occurred) a meeting with Mr. Herbert Linley when no third person +happened to be present. I know that the maternal motive which +animated Mrs. Linley is considered, by many persons, to excuse +and even to justify that most regrettable act; and I have myself +allowed (I fear weakly allowed) more than due weight to this +consideration in pronouncing for the Divorce. Let me express the +earnest hope that Mrs. Linley will take warning by what has +happened; and, if she finds herself hereafter placed in other +circumstances of difficulty, let me advise her to exercise more +control over impulses which one might expect perhaps to find in a +young girl, but which are neither natural nor excusable in a +woman of her age." + +His lordship then decreed the Divorce in the customary form, +giving the custody of the child to the mother. + + * * * * * + +As fast as a hired carriage could take him, Mr. Sarrazin drove +from the court to Mrs. Linley's lodgings, to tell her that the +one great object of securing her right to her child had been +achieved. + +At the door he was met by Mrs. Presty. She was accompanied by a +stranger, whose medical services had been required. Interested +professionally in hearing the result of the trial, this gentleman +volunteered to communicate the good news to his patient. He had +been waiting to administer a composing draught, until the +suspense from which Mrs. Linley was suffering might be relieved, +and a reasonable hope be entertained that the medicine would +produce the right effect. With that explanation he left the room. + +While the doctor was speaking, Mrs. Presty was drawing her own +conclusions from a close scrutiny of Mr. Sarrazin's face. + +"I am going to make a disagreeable remark," she announced. "You +look ten years older, sir, than you did when you left us this +morning to go to the Court. Do me a favor--come to the +sideboard." The lawyer having obeyed, she poured out a glass of +wine. "There is the remedy," she resumed, "when something has +happened to worry you." + +"'Worry' isn't the right word," Mr. Sarrazin declared. "I'm +furious! It's a most improper thing for a person in my position +to say of a person in the Lord President's position; but I do say +it--he ought to be ashamed of himself." + +"After giving us our Divorce!" Mrs. Presty exclaimed. "What has +he done?" + +Mr. Sarrazin repeated what the judge had said of Mrs. Linley. "In +my opinion," he added, "such language as that is an insult to +your daughter." + +"And yet," Mrs. Presty repeated, "he has given us our Divorce." +She returned to the sideboard, poured out a second dose of the +remedy against worry, and took it herself. "What sort of +character does the Lord President bear?" she asked when she had +emptied her glass. + +This seemed to be an extraordinary question to put, under the +circumstances. Mr. Sarrazin answered it, however, to the best of +his ability. "An excellent character," he said--"that's the +unaccountable part of it. I hear that he is one of the most +careful and considerate men who ever sat on the bench. Excuse me, +Mrs. Presty, I didn't intend to produce that impression on you." + +"What impression, Mr. Sarrazin?" + +"You look as if you thought there was some excuse for the judge." + +"That's exactly what I do think." + +"You find an excuse for him?" + +"I do." + +"What is it, ma'am?" + +"Constitutional infirmity, sir." + +"May I ask of what nature?" + +"You may. Gout." + +Mr. Sarrazin thought he understood her at last. "You know the +Lord President," he said. + +Mrs. Presty denied it positively. "No, Mr. Sarrazin, I don't get +at it in that way. I merely consult my experience of another +official person of high rank, and apply it to the Lord President. +You know that my first husband was a Cabinet Minister?" + +"I have heard you say so, Mrs. Presty, on more than one +occasion." + +"Very well. You may also have heard that the late Mr. Norman was +a remarkably well-bred man. In and out of the House of Commons, +courteous almost to a fault. One day I happened to interrupt him +when he was absorbed over an Act of Parliament. Before I could +apologize--I tell you this in the strictest confidence--he threw +the Act of Parliament at my head. Ninety-nine women out of a +hundred would have thrown it back again. Knowing his +constitution, I decided on waiting a day or two. On the second +day, my anticipations were realized. Mr. Norman's great toe was +as big as my fist and as red as a lobster; he apologized for the +Act of Parliament with tears in his eyes. Suppressed gout in Mr. +Norman's temper; suppressed gout in the Lord President's temper. +_He_ will have a toe; and, if I can prevail upon my daughter to +call upon him, I have not the least doubt he will apologize to +her with tears in _his_ eyes." + +This interesting experiment was never destined to be tried. Right +or wrong, Mrs. Presty's theory remained the only explanation of +the judge's severity. Mr. Sarrazin attempted to change the +subject. Mrs. Presty had not quite done with it yet. "There is +one more thing I want to say," she proceeded. "Will his +lordship's remarks appear in the newspapers?" + +"Not a doubt of it." + +"In that case I will take care (for my daughter's sake) that no +newspapers enter the house to-morrow. As for visitors, we needn't +be afraid of them. Catherine is not likely to be able to leave +her room; the worry of this miserable business has quite broken +her down." + +The doctor returned at that moment. + +Without taking the old lady's gloomy view of his patient, he +admitted that she was in a low nervous condition, and he had +reason to suppose, judging by her reply to a question which he +had ventured to put, that she had associations with Scotland +which made a visit to that country far from agreeable to her. His +advice was that she should leave Edinburgh as soon as possible, +and go South. If the change of climate led to no improvement, she +would at least be in a position to consult the best physicians in +London. In a day or two more it would be safe to remove +her--provided she was not permitted to exhaust her strength by +taking long railway journeys. + +Having given his advice, the doctor took leave. Soon after he had +gone, Kitty made her appearance, charged with a message from Mrs. +Linley's room. + +"Hasn't the physic sent your mother to sleep yet?" Mrs. Presty +inquired. + +Kitty shook her head. "Mamma wants to go away tomorrow, and no +physic will make her sleep till she has seen you, and settled +about it. That's what she told me to say. If _I_ behaved in that +way about my physic, I should catch it." + +Mrs. Presty left the room; watched by her granddaughter with an +appearance of anxiety which it was not easy to understand. + +"What's the matter?" Mr. Sarrazin asked. "You look very serious +to-day." + +Kitty held up a warning hand. "Grandmamma sometimes listens at +doors," she whispered; "I don't want her to hear me." She waited +a little longer, and then approached Mr. Sarrazin, frowning +mysteriously. "Take me up on your knee," she said. "There's +something wrong going on in this house." + +Mr. Sarrazin took her on his knee, and rashly asked what had gone +wrong. Kitty's reply puzzled him. + +"I go to mamma's room every morning when I wake," the child +began. "I get into her bed, and I give her a kiss, and I say +'Good-morning'--and sometimes, if she isn't in a hurry to get up, +I stop in her bed, and go to sleep again. Mamma thought I was +asleep this morning. I wasn't asleep--I was only quiet. I don't +know why I was quiet." + +Mr. Sarrazin's kindness still encouraged her. "Well," he said, +"and what happened after that?" + +"Grandmamma came in. She told mamma to keep up her spirits. She +says, 'It will all be over in a few hours more.' She says, 'What +a burden it will be off your mind!' She says, 'Is that child +asleep?' And mamma says, 'Yes.' And grandmamma took one of +mamma's towels. And I thought she was going to wash herself. What +would _you_ have thought?" + +Mr. Sarrazin began to doubt whether he would do well to discuss +Mrs. Presty's object in taking the towel. He only said, "Go on." + +"Grandmamma dipped it into the water-jug," Kitty continued, with +a grave face; "but she didn't wash herself. She went to one of +mamma's boxes. Though she's so old, she's awfully strong, I can +tell you. She rubbed off the luggage-label in no time. Mamma +says, 'What are you doing that for?' And grandmamma says--this is +the dreadful thing that I want you to explain; oh, I can remember +it all; it's like learning lessons, only much nicer--grandmamma +says, 'Before the day's over, the name on your boxes will be your +name no longer.'" + +Mr. Sarrazin now became aware of the labyrinth into which his +young friend had innocently led him. The Divorce, and the wife's +inevitable return (when the husband was no longer the husband) to +her maiden name--these were the subjects on which Kitty's desire +for enlightenment applied to the wisest person within her reach, +her mother's legal adviser. + +Mr. Sarrazin tried to put her off his knee. She held him round +the neck. He thought of the railway as a promising excuse, and +told her he must go back to London. She held him a little +tighter. "I really can't wait, my dear;" he got up as he said it. +Kitty hung on to him with her legs as well as her arms, and +finding the position uncomfortable, lost her temper. "Mamma's +going to have a new name," she shouted, as if the lawyer had +suddenly become deaf. "Grandmamma says she must be Mrs. Norman. +And I must be Miss Norman. I won't! Where's papa? I want to write +to him; I know he won't allow it. Do you hear? Where's papa?" + +She fastened her little hands on Mr. Sarrazin's coat collar and +tried to shake him, in a fury of resolution to know what it all +meant. At that critical moment Mrs. Presty opened the door, and +stood petrified on the threshold. + +"Hanging on to Mr. Sarrazin with her arms _and_ her legs!" +exclaimed the old lady. "You little wretch, which are you, a +monkey or a child?" + +The lawyer gently deposited Kitty on the floor. + +"Mind this, Samuel," she whispered, as he set her down on her +feet, "I won't be Miss Norman." + +Mrs. Presty pointed sternly at the open door. "You were screaming +just now, when quiet in the house is of the utmost importance to +your mother. If I hear you again, bread and water and no doll for +the rest of the week." + +Kitty retired in disgrace, and Mrs. Presty sharpened her tongue +on Mr. Sarrazin next. "I'm astonished, sir, at your allowing that +impudent grandchild of mine to take such liberties with you. Who +would suppose that you were a married man, with children of your +own?" + +"That's just the reason, my dear madam," Mr. Sarrazin smartly +replied. "I romp with my own children--why not with Kitty? Can I +do anything for you in London?" he went on, getting a little +nearer to the door; "I leave Edinburgh by the next train. And I +promise you," he added, with the spirit of mischief twinkling in +his eyes, "this shall be my last confidential interview with your +grandchild. When she wants to ask any more questions, I transfer +her to you." + +Mrs. Presty looked after the retreating lawyer thoroughly +mystified. What "confidential interview"? What "questions"? After +some consideration, her experience of her granddaughter suggested +that a little exercise of mercy might be attended with the right +result. She looked at a cake on the sideboard. "I have only to +forgive Kitty," she decided, "and the child will talk about it of +her own accord." + + +Chapter XXXI. + +Mr. Herbert Linley. + +Of the friends and neighbors who had associated with Herbert +Linley, in bygone days, not more than two or three kept up their +intimacy with him at the later time of his disgrace. Those few, +it is needless to say, were men. + +One of the faithful companions, who had not shrunk from him yet, +had just left the London hotel at which Linley had taken rooms +for Sydney Westerfield and himself--in the name of Mr. and Mrs. +Herbert. This old friend had been shocked by the change for the +worse which he had perceived in the fugitive master of Mount +Morven. Linley's stout figure of former times had fallen away, as +if he had suffered under long illness; his healthy color had +faded; he made an effort to assume the hearty manner that had +once been natural to him which was simply pitiable to see. "After +sacrificing all that makes life truly decent and truly enjoyable +for a woman, he has got nothing, not even false happiness, in +return!" With that dreary conclusion the retiring visitor +descended the hotel steps, and went his way along the street. + +Linley returned to the newspaper which he had been reading when +his friend was shown into the room. + +Line by line he followed the progress of the law report, which +informed its thousands of readers that his wife had divorced him, +and had taken lawful possession of his child. Word by word, he +dwelt with morbid attention on the terms of crushing severity in +which the Lord President had spoken of Sydney Westerfield and of +himself. Sentence by sentence he read the reproof inflicted on +the unhappy woman whom he had vowed to love and cherish. And +then--even then--urged by his own self-tormenting suspicion, he +looked for more. On the opposite page there was a leading +article, presenting comments on the trial, written in the tone of +lofty and virtuous regret; taking the wife's side against the +judge, but declaring, at the same time, that no condemnation of +the conduct of the husband and the governess could be too +merciless, and no misery that might overtake them in the future +more than they had deserved. + +He threw the newspaper on the table at his side, and thought over +what he had read. + +If he had done nothing else, he had drained the bitter cup to the +dregs. When he looked back, he saw nothing but the life that he +had wasted. When his thoughts turned to the future, they +confronted a prospect empty of all promise to a man still in the +prime of life. Wife and child were as completely lost to him as +if they had been dead--and it was the wife's doing. Had he any +right to complain? Not the shadow of a right. As the newspapers +said, he had deserved it. + +The clock roused him, striking the hour. + +He rose hurriedly, and advanced toward the window. As he crossed +the room, he passed by a mirror. His own sullen despair looked at +him in the reflection of his face. "She will be back directly," +he remembered; "she mustn't see me like this!" He went on to the +window to divert his mind (and so to clear his face) by watching +the stream of life flowing by in the busy street. Artificial +cheerfulness, assumed love in Sydney's presence--that was what +his life had come to already. + +If he had known that she had gone out, seeking a temporary +separation, with _his_ fear of self-betrayal--if he had suspected +that she, too, had thoughts which must be concealed: sad +forebodings of losing her hold on his heart, terrifying +suspicions that he was already comparing her, to her own +disadvantage, with the wife whom he had deserted--if he had made +these discoveries, what would the end have been? But she had, +thus far, escaped the danger of exciting his distrust. That she +loved him, he knew. That she had begun to doubt his attachment to +her he would not have believed, if his oldest friend had declared +it on the best evidence. She had said to him, that morning, at +breakfast: "There was a good woman who used to let lodgings here +in London, and who was very kind to me when I was a child;" and +she had asked leave to go to the house, and inquire if that +friendly landlady was still living--with nothing visibly +constrained in her smile, and with no faltering tone in her +voice. It was not until she was out in the street that the +tell-tale tears came into her eyes, and the bitter sigh broke +from her, and mingled its little unheard misery with the grand +rise and fall of the tumult of London life. While he was still at +the window, he saw her crossing the street on her way back to +him. She came into the room with her complexion heightened by +exercise; she kissed him, and said with her pretty smile: "Have +you been lonely without me?" Who would have supposed that the +torment of distrust, and the dread of desertion, were busy at +this woman's heart? + +He placed a chair for her, and seating himself by her side asked +if she felt tired. Every attention that she could wish for from +the man whom she loved, offered with every appearance of +sincerity on the surface! She met him halfway, and answered as if +her mind was quite at ease. + +"No, dear, I'm not tired--but I'm glad to get back." + +"Did you find your old landlady still alive?" + +"Yes. But oh, so altered, poor thing! The struggle for life must +have been a hard one, since I last saw her." + +"She didn't recognize you, of course?" + +"Oh! no. She looked at me and my dress in great surprise and said +her lodgings were hardly fit for a young lady like me. It was too +sad. I said I had known her lodgings well, many years ago--and, +with that to prepare her, I told her who I was. Ah, it was a +melancholy meeting for both of us. She burst out crying when I +kissed her; and I had to tell her that my mother was dead, and my +brother lost to me in spite of every effort to find him. I asked +to go into the kitchen, thinking the change would be a relief to +both of us. The kitchen used to be a paradise to me in those old +days; it was so warm to a half-starved child--and I always got +something to eat when I was there. You have no idea, Herbert, how +poor and how empty the place looked to me now. I was glad to get +out of it, and go upstairs. There was a lumber-room at the top of +the house; I used to play in it, all by myself. More changes met +me the moment I opened the door." + +"Changes for the better?" + +"My dear, it couldn't have changed for the worse! My dirty old +play-room was cleaned and repaired; the lumber taken away, and a +nice little bed in one corner. Some clerk in the City had taken +the room--I shouldn't have known it again. But there was another +surprise waiting for me; a happy surprise this time. In cleaning +out the garret, what do you think the landlady found? Try to +guess." + +Anything to please her! Anything to make her think that he was as +fond of her as ever! "Was it something you had left behind you," +he said, "at the time when you lodged there." + +"Yes! you are right at the first guess--a little memorial of my +father. Only some torn crumpled leaves from a book of children's +songs that he used to teach me to sing; and a small packet of his +letters, which my mother may have thrown aside and forgotten. +See! I have brought them back with me; I mean to look over the +letters at once--but this doesn't interest you?" + +"Indeed it does." + +He made that considerate reply mechanically, as if thinking of +something else. She was afraid to tell him plainly that she saw +this; but she could venture to say that he was not looking well. +"I have noticed it for some time past," she confessed. "You have +been accustomed to live in the country; I am afraid London +doesn't agree with you." + +He admitted that she might be right; still speaking absently, +still thinking of the Divorce. She laid the packet of letters and +the poor relics of the old song-book on the table, and bent over +him. Tenderly, and a little timidly, she put her arm around his +neck. "Let us try some purer air," she suggested; "the seaside +might do you good. Don't you think so?" + +"I daresay, my dear. Where shall we go?" + +"Oh, I leave that to you." + +"No, Sydney. It was I who proposed coming to London. You shall +decide this time." + +She submitted, and promised to think of it. Leaving him, with the +first expression of trouble that had shown itself in her face, +she took up the songs and put them into the pocket of her dress. +On the point of removing the letters next, she noticed the +newspaper on the table. "Anything interesting to-day?" she +asked--and drew the newspaper toward her to look at it. He took +it from her suddenly, almost roughly. The next moment he +apologized for his rudeness. "There is nothing worth reading in +the paper," he said, after begging her pardon. "You don't care +about politics, do you?" + +Instead of answering, she looked at him attentively. + +The heightened color which told of recent exercise, healthily +enjoyed, faded from her face. She was silent; she was pale. A +little confused, he smiled uneasily. "Surely," he resumed, trying +to speak gayly, "I haven't offended you?" + +"There is something in the newspaper," she said, "which you don't +want me to read." + +He denied it--but he still kept the newspaper in his own +possession. Her voice sank low; her face turned paler still. + +"Is it all over?" she asked. "And is it put in the newspaper?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean the Divorce." + +He went back again to the window and looked out. It was the +easiest excuse that he could devise for keeping his face turned +away from her. She followed him. + +"I don't want to read it, Herbert. I only ask you to tell me if +you are a free man again." + +Quiet as it was, her tone left him no alternative but to treat +her brutally or to reply. Still looking out at the street, he +said "Yes." + +"Free to marry, if you like?" she persisted. + +He said "Yes" once more--and kept his face steadily turned away +from her. She waited a while. He neither moved nor spoke. + +Surviving the slow death little by little of all her other +illusions, one last hope had lingered in her heart. It was killed +by that cruel look, fixed on the view of the street. + +"I'll try to think of a place that we can go to at the seaside." +Having said those words she slowly moved away to the door, and +turned back, remembering the packet of letters. She took it up, +paused, and looked toward the window. The streets still +interested him. She left the room. + + + +Chapter XXXII. + + +Miss Westerfield. + + +She locked the door of her bedchamber, and threw off her +walking-dress; light as it was, she felt as if it would stifle +her. Even the ribbon round her neck was more than she could +endure and breathe freely. Her overburdened heart found no relief +in tears. In the solitude of her room she thought of the future. +The dreary foreboding of what it might be, filled her with a +superstitious dread from which she recoiled. One of the windows +was open already; she threw up the other to get more air. In the +cooler atmosphere her memory recovered itself; she recollected +the newspaper, that Herbert had taken from her. Instantly she +rang for the maid. "Ask the first waiter you see downstairs for +today's newspaper; any one will do, so long as I don't wait for +it." The report of the Divorce--she was in a frenzy of impatience +to read what _he_ had read--the report of the Divorce. + +When her wish had been gratified, when she had read it from +beginning to end, one vivid impression only was left on her mind. +She could think of nothing but what the judge had said, in +speaking of Mrs. Linley. + +A cruel reproof, and worse than cruel, a public reproof, +administered to the generous friend, the true wife, the devoted +mother--and for what? For having been too ready to forgive the +wretch who had taken her husband from her, and had repaid a +hundred acts of kindness by unpardonable ingratitude. + +She fell on her knees; she tried wildly to pray for inspiration +that should tell her what to do. "Oh, God, how can I give that +woman back the happiness of which I have robbed her!" + +The composing influence of prayer on a troubled mind was +something that she had heard of. It was not something that she +experienced now. An overpowering impatience to make the speediest +and completest atonement possessed her. Must she wait till +Herbert Linley no longer concealed that he was weary of her, and +cast her off? No! It should be her own act that parted them, and +that did it at once. She threw open the door, and hurried +half-way down the stairs before she remembered the one terrible +obstacle in her way--the Divorce. + +Slowly and sadly she submitted, and went back to her room. + +There was no disguising it; the two who had once been husband and +wife were parted irrevocably--by the wife's own act. Let him +repent ever so sincerely, let him be ever so ready to return, +would the woman whose faith Herbert Linley had betrayed take him +back? The Divorce, the merciless Divorce, answered:--No! + +She paused, thinking of the marriage that was now a marriage no +more. The toilet-table was close to her; she looked absently at +her haggard face in the glass. What a lost wretch she saw! The +generous impulses which other women were free to feel were +forbidden luxuries to her. She was ashamed of her wickedness; she +was eager to sacrifice herself, for the good of the once-dear +friend whom she had wronged. Useless longings! Too late! too +late! + +She regretted it bitterly. Why? + +Comparing Mrs. Linley's prospects with hers, was there anything +to justify regret for the divorced wife? She had her sweet little +child to make her happy; she had a fortune of her own to lift her +above sordid cares; she was still handsome, still a woman to be +admired. While she held her place in the world as high as ever, +what was the prospect before Sydney Westerfield? The miserable +sinner would end as she had deserved to end. Absolutely dependent +on a man who was at that moment perhaps lamenting the wife whom +he had deserted and lost, how long would it be before she found +herself an outcast, without a friend to help her--with a +reputation hopelessly lost--face to face with the temptation to +drown herself or poison herself, as other women had drowned +themselves or poisoned themselves, when the brightest future +before them was rest in death? + +If she had been a few years older, Herbert Linley might never +again have seen her a living creature. But she was too young to +follow any train of repellent thought persistently to its end. +The man she had guiltily (and yet how naturally) loved was lord +and master in her heart, doubt him as she might. Even in his +absence he pleaded with her to have some faith in him still. + +She reviewed his language and his conduct toward her, when she +had returned that morning from her walk. He had been kind and +considerate; he had listened to her little story of the relics of +her father, found in the garret, as if her interests were his +interests. There had been nothing to disappoint her, nothing to +complain of, until she had rashly attempted to discover whether +he was free to make her his wife. She had only herself to blame +if he was cold and distant when she had alluded to that delicate +subject, on the day when he first knew that the Divorce had been +granted and his child had been taken from him. And yet, he might +have found a kinder way of reproving a sensitive woman than +looking into the street--as if he had forgotten her in the +interest of watching the strangers passing by! Perhaps he was not +thinking of the strangers; perhaps his mind was dwelling fondly +and regretfully on his wife? + +Instinctively, she felt that her thoughts were leading her back +again to a state of doubt from which her youthful hopefulness +recoiled. Was there nothing she could find to do which would +offer some other subject to occupy her mind than herself and her +future? + +Looking absently round the room, she noticed the packet of her +father's letters placed on the table by her bedside. + +The first three letters that she examined, after untying the +packet, were briefly written, and were signed by names unknown to +her. They all related to race-horses, and to cunningly devised +bets which were certain to make the fortunes of the clever +gamblers on the turf who laid them. Absolute indifference on the +part of the winners to the ruin of the losers, who were not in +the secret, was the one feeling in common, which her father's +correspondents presented. In mercy to his memory she threw the +letters into the empty fireplace, and destroyed them by burning. + +The next letter which she picked out from the little heap was of +some length, and was written in a clear and steady hand. By +comparison with the blotted scrawls which she had just burned, it +looked like the letter of a gentleman. She turned to the +signature. The strange surname struck her; it was "Bennydeck." + +Not a common name, and not a name which seemed to be altogether +unknown to her. Had she heard her father mention it at home in +the time of her early childhood? There were no associations with +it that she could now call to mind. + +She read the letter. It addressed her father familiarly as "My +dear Roderick," and it proceeded in these words:-- + + + +"The delay in the sailing of your ship offers me an opportunity +of writing to you again. My last letter told you of my father's +death. I was then quite unprepared for an event which has +happened, since that affliction befell me. Prepare yourself to be +surprised. Our old moated house at Sandyseal, in which we have +spent so many happy holidays when we were schoolfellows, is sold. + +"You will be almost as sorry as I was to hear this; and you will +be quite as surprised as I was, when I tell you that Sandyseal +Place has become a Priory of English Nuns, of the order of St. +Benedict. + +"I think I see you look up from my letter, with your big black +eyes staring straight before you, and say and swear that this +must be one of my mystifications. Unfortunately (for I am fond of +the old house in which I was born) it is only too true. The +instructions in my father's will, under which Sandyseal has been +sold, are peremptory. They are the result of a promise made, many +years since, to his wife. + +"You and I were both very young when my poor mother died; but I +think you must remember that she, like the rest of her family, +was a Roman Catholic. + +"Having reminded you of this, I may next tell you that Sandyseal +Place was my mother's property. It formed part of her marriage +portion, and it was settled on my father if she died before him, +and if she left no female child to survive her. I am her only +child. My father was therefore dealing with his own property when +he ordered the house to be sold. His will leaves the purchase +money to me. I would rather have kept the house. + +"But why did my mother make him promise to sell the place at his +death? + +"A letter, attached to my father's will, answers this question, +and tells a very sad story. In deference to my mother's wishes it +was kept strictly a secret from me while my father lived. + +"There was a younger sister of my mother's who was the beauty of +the family; loved and admired by everybody who was acquainted +with her. It is needless to make this long letter longer by +dwelling on the girl's miserable story. You have heard it of +other girls, over and over again. She loved and trusted; she was +deceived and deserted. Alone and friendless in a foreign country; +her fair fame blemished; her hope in the future utterly +destroyed, she attempted to drown herself. This took place in +France. The best of good women--a Sister of Charity--happened to +be near enough to the river to rescue her. She was sheltered; she +was pitied; she was encouraged to return to her family. The poor +deserted creature absolutely refused; she could never forget that +she had disgraced them. The good Sister of Charity won her +confidence. A retreat which would hide her from the world, and +devote her to religion for the rest of her days, was the one end +to her wasted life that she longed for. That end was attained in +a Priory of Benedictine Nuns, established in France. There she +found protection and peace--there she passed the remaining years +of her life among devoted Sister-friends--and there she died a +quiet and even a happy death. + +"You will now understand how my mother's grateful remembrance +associated her with the interests of more than one community of +Nuns; and you will not need to be told what she had in mind when +she obtained my father's promise at the time of her last illness. + +"He at once proposed to bequeath the house as a free gift to the +Benedictines. My mother thanked him and refused. She was thinking +of me. 'If our son fails to inherit the house from his father,' +she said, 'it is only right that he should have the value of the +house in money. Let it be sold.' + +"So here I am--rich already--with this additional sum of money in +my banker's care. + +"My idea is to invest it in the Funds, and to let it thrive at +interest, until I grow older, and retire perhaps from service in +the Navy. The later years of my life may well be devoted to the +founding of a charitable institution, which I myself can +establish and direct. If I die first--oh, there is a chance of +it! We may have a naval war, perhaps, or I may turn out one of +those incorrigible madmen who risk their lives in Arctic +exploration. In case of the worst, therefore, I shall leave the +interests of my contemplated Home in your honest and capable +hands. For the present good-by, and a prosperous voyage outward +bound." + + + +So the letter ended. + +Sydney dwelt with reluctant attention on the latter half of it. +The story of the unhappy favorite of the family had its own +melancholy and sinister interest for her. She felt the foreboding +that it might, in some of its circumstances, be her story +too--without the peaceful end. Into what community of merciful +women could _she_ be received, in her sorest need? What religious +consolations would encourage her penitence? What prayers, what +hopes, would reconcile her, on her death-bed, to the common doom? + +She sighed as she folded up Captain Bennydeck's letter and put it +in her bosom, to be read again. "If my lot had fallen among good +people," she thought, "perhaps I might have belonged to the +Church which took care of that poor girl." + +Her mind was still pursuing its own sad course of inquiry; she +was wondering in what part of England Sandyseal might be; she was +asking herself if the Nuns at the old moated house ever opened +their doors to women, whose one claim on their common +Christianity was the claim to be pitied--when she heard Linley's +footsteps approaching the door. + +His tone was kind; his manner was gentle; his tender interest in +her seemed to have revived. Her long absence had alarmed him; he +feared she might be ill. "I was only thinking," she said. He +smiled, and sat down by her, and asked if she had been thinking +of the place that they should go to when they left London. + + + +Chapter XXXIII. + + +Mrs. Romsey. + + +The one hotel in Sandyseal was full, from the topmost story to +the ground floor; and by far the larger half of the landlord's +guests were invalids sent to him by the doctors. + +To persons of excitable temperament, in search of amusement, the +place offered no attractions. Situated at the innermost end of a +dull little bay, Sandyseal--so far as any view of the shipping in +the Channel was concerned--might have been built on a remote +island in the Pacific Ocean. Vessels of any importance kept well +out of the way of treacherous shoals and currents lurking at the +entrance of the bay. The anchorage ground was good; but the depth +of water was suited to small vessels only--to shabby old +fishing-smacks which seldom paid their expenses, and to dirty +little coasters carrying coals and potatoes. At the back of the +hotel, two slovenly rows of cottages took their crooked course +inland. Sailing masters of yachts, off duty, sat and yawned at +the windows; lazy fishermen looked wearily at the weather over +their garden gates; and superfluous coastguards gathered together +in a wooden observatory, and leveled useless telescopes at an +empty sea. The flat open country, with its few dwarf trees and +its mangy hedges, lay prostrate under the sky in all the +desolation of solitary space, and left the famous restorative air +free to build up dilapidated nerves, without an object to hinder +its passage at any point of the compass. The lonely drab-colored +road that led to the nearest town offered to visitors, taking +airings, a view of a low brown object in the distance, said to be +the convent in which the Nuns lived, secluded from mortal eyes. +At one side of the hotel, the windows looked on a little wooden +pier, sadly in want of repair. On the other side, a walled +inclosure accommodated yachts of light tonnage, stripped of their +rigging, and sitting solitary on a bank of mud until their owners +wanted them. In this neighborhood there was a small outlying colony +of shops: one that sold fruit and fish; one that dealt in groceries +and tobacco; one shut up, with a bill in the window inviting a +tenant; and one, behind the Methodist Chapel, answering the +double purpose of a post-office and a storehouse for ropes and +coals. Beyond these objects there was nothing (and this was the +great charm of the place) to distract the attention of invalids, +following the doctor's directions, and from morning to night +taking care of their health. + + + +The time was evening; the scene was one of the private +sitting-rooms in the hotel; and the purpose in view was a little +tea-party. + +Rich Mrs. Romsey, connected with commerce as wife of the chief +partner in the firm of Romsey & Renshaw, was staying at the hotel +in the interests of her three children. They were of delicate +constitution; their complete recovery, after severe illness which +had passed from one to the other, was less speedy than had been +anticipated; and the doctor had declared that the nervous system +was, in each case, more or less in need of repair. To arrive at +this conclusion, and to recommend a visit to Sandyseal, were +events which followed each other (medically speaking) as a matter +of course. + +The health of the children had greatly improved; the famous air +had agreed with them, and the discovery of new playfellows had +agreed with them. They had made acquaintance with Lady Myrie's +well-bred boys, and with Mrs. Norman's charming little Kitty. The +most cordial good-feeling had established itself among the +mothers. Owing a return for hospitalities received from Lady +Myrie and Mrs. Norman, Mrs. Romsey had invited the two ladies to +drink tea with her in honor of an interesting domestic event. Her +husband, absent on the Continent for some time past, on business +connected with his firm, had returned to England, and had that +evening joined his wife and children at Sandyseal. + +Lady Myrie had arrived, and Mr. Romsey had been presented to her. +Mrs. Norman, expected to follow, was represented by a courteous +note of apology. She was not well that evening, and she begged to +be excused. + +"This is a great disappointment," Mrs. Romsey said to her +husband. "You would have been charmed with Mrs. +Norman--highly-bred, accomplished, a perfect lady. And she leaves +us to-morrow. The departure will not be an early one; and I shall +find an opportunity, my dear, of introducing you to my friend and +her sweet little Kitty." + +Mr. Romsey looked interested for a moment, when he first heard +Mrs. Norman's name. After that, he slowly stirred his tea, and +seemed to be thinking, instead of listening to his wife. + +"Have you made the lady's acquaintance here?" he inquired. + +"Yes--and I hope I have made a friend for life," Mrs. Romsey said +with enthusiasm. + +"And so do I," Lady Myrie added. + +Mr. Romsey went on with his inquiries. + +"Is she a handsome woman?" + +Both the ladies answered the question together. Lady Myrie +described Mrs. Norman, in one dreadful word, as "Classical." By +comparison with this, Mrs. Romsey's reply was intelligible. "Not +even illness can spoil her beauty!" + +"Including the headache she has got to-night?" Mr. Romsey +suggested. + +"Don't be ill-natured, dear! Mrs. Norman is here by the advice of +one of the first physicians in London; she has suffered under +serious troubles, poor thing." + +Mr. Romsey persisted in being ill-natured. "Connected with her +husband?" he asked. + +Lady Myrie entered a protest. She was a widow; and it was +notorious among her friends that the death of her husband had +been the happiest event in her married life. But she understood +her duty to herself as a respectable woman. + +"I think, Mr. Romsey, you might have spared that cruel allusion," +she said with dignity. + +Mr. Romsey apologized. He had his reasons for wishing to know +something more about Mrs. Norman; he proposed to withdraw his +last remark, and to put his inquiries under another form. Might +he ask his wife if anybody had seen _Mr._ Norman? + +"No." + +"Or heard of him?" + +Mrs. Romsey answered in the negative once more, and added a +question on her own account. What did all this mean? + +"It means," Lady Myrie interposed, "what we poor women are all +exposed to--scandal." She had not yet forgiven Mr. Romsey's +allusion, and she looked at him pointedly as she spoke. There are +some impenetrable men on whom looks produce no impression. Mr. +Romsey was one of them. He turned to his wife, and said, quietly: +"What I mean is, that I know more of Mrs. Norman than you do. I +have heard of her--never mind how or where. She is a lady who has +been celebrated in the newspapers. Don't be alarmed. She is no +less a person than the divorced Mrs. Linley." + +The two ladies looked at each other in blank dismay. Restrained +by a sense of conjugal duty, Mrs. Romsey only indulged in an +exclamation. Lady Myrie, independent of restraint, expressed her +opinion, and said: "Quite impossible!" + +"The Mrs. Norman whom I mean," Mr. Romsey went on, "has, as I +have been told, a mother living. The old lady has been twice +married. Her name is Mrs. Presty." + +This settled the question. Mrs. Presty was established, in her +own proper person, with her daughter and grandchild at the hotel. +Lady Myrie yielded to the force of evidence; she lifted her hands +in horror: "This is too dreadful!" + +Mrs. Romsey took a more compassionate view of the disclosure. +"Surely the poor lady is to be pitied?" she gently suggested. + +Lady Myrie looked at her friend in astonishment. "My dear, you +must have forgotten what the judge said about her. Surely you +read the report of the case in the newspapers?" + +"No; I heard of the trial, and that's all. What did the judge +say?" + +"Say?" Lady Myrie repeated. "What did he not say! His lordship +declared that he had a great mind not to grant the Divorce at +all. He spoke of this dreadful woman who has deceived us in the +severest terms; he said she had behaved in a most improper +manner. She had encouraged the abominable governess; and if her +husband had yielded to temptation, it was her fault. And more +besides, that I don't remember." + +Mr. Romsey's wife appealed to him in despair. "What am I to do?" +she asked, helplessly. + +"Do nothing," was the wise reply. "Didn't you say she was going +away to-morrow?" + +"That's the worst of it!" Mrs. Romsey declared. "Her little girl +Kitty gives a farewell dinner to-morrow to our children; and I've +promised to take them to say good-by." + +Lady Myrie pronounced sentence without hesitation. "Of course +your girls mustn't go. Daughters! Think of their reputations when +they grow up!" + +"Are you in the same scrape with my wife?" Mr. Romsey asked. + +Lady Myrie corrected his language. "I have been deceived in the +same way," she said. "Though my children are boys (which perhaps +makes a difference) I feel it is my duty as a mother not to let +them get into bad company. I do nothing myself in an underhand +way. No excuses! I shall send a note and tell Mrs. Norman why she +doesn't see my boys to-morrow." + +"Isn't that a little hard on her?" said merciful Mrs. Romsey. + +Mr. Romsey agreed with his wife, on grounds of expediency. "Never +make a row if you can help it," was the peaceable principle to +which this gentleman committed himself. "Send word that the +children have caught colds, and get over it in that way." + +Mrs. Romsey looked gratefully at her admirable husband. "Just the +thing!" she said, with an air of relief. + +Lady Myrie's sense of duty expressed itself, with the strictest +adherence to the laws of courtesy. She rose, smiled resignedly, +and said, "Good-night." + +Almost at the same moment, innocent little Kitty astonished her +mother and her grandmother by appearing before them in her +night-gown, after she had been put to bed nearly two hours since. + +"What will this child do next?" Mrs. Presty exclaimed. + +Kitty told the truth. "I can't go to sleep, grandmamma." + +"Why not, my darling?" her mother asked. + +"I'm so excited, mamma." + +"About what, Kitty?" + +"About my dinner-party to-morrow. Oh," said the child, clasping +her hands earnestly as she thought of her playfellows, "I do so +hope it will go off well!" + + + +Chapter XXXIV. + + +Mrs. Presty. + + +Belonging to the generation which has lived to see the Age of +Hurry, and has no sympathy with it, Mrs. Presty entered the +sitting-room at the hotel, two hours before the time that had +been fixed for leaving Sandyseal, with her mind at ease on the +subject of her luggage. "My boxes are locked, strapped and +labeled; I hate being hurried. What's that you're reading?" she +asked, discovering a book on her daughter's lap, and a hasty +action on her daughter's part, which looked like trying to hide +it. + +Mrs. Norman made the most common, and--where the object is to +baffle curiosity--the most useless of prevaricating replies. When +her mother asked her what she was reading she answered: +"Nothing." + +"Nothing!" Mrs. Presty repeated with an ironical assumption of +interest. "The work of all others, Catherine, that I most want to +read." She snatched up the book; opened it at the first page, and +discovered an inscription in faded ink which roused her +indignation. "To dear Catherine, from Herbert, on the anniversary +of our marriage." What unintended mockery in those words, read by +the later light of the Divorce! "Well, this is mean," said Mrs. +Presty. "Keeping that wretch's present, after the public exposure +which he has forced on you. Oh, Catherine!" + +Catherine was not quite so patient with her mother as usual. +"Keeping my best remembrance of the happy time of my life," she +answered. + +"Misplaced sentiment," Mrs. Presty declared; "I shall put the +book out of the way. Your brain is softening, my dear, under the +influence of this stupefying place." + +Catherine asserted her own opinion against her mother's opinion, +for the second time. "I have recovered my health at Sandyseal," +she said. "I like the place, and I am sorry to leave it." + +"Give me the shop windows, the streets, the life, the racket, and +the smoke of London," cried Mrs. Presty. "Thank Heaven, these +rooms are let over our heads, and out we must go, whether we like +it or not." + +This expression of gratitude was followed by a knock at the door, +and by a voice outside asking leave to come in, which was, beyond +all doubt, the voice of Randal Linley. With Catherine's book +still in her possession, Mrs. Presty opened the table-drawer, +threw it in, and closed the drawer with a bang. Discovering the +two ladies, Randal stopped in the doorway, and stared at them in +astonishment. + +"Didn't you expect to see us?" Mrs. Presty inquired. + +"I heard you were here, from our friend Sarrazin," Randal said; +"but I expected to see Captain Bennydeck. Have I mistaken the +number? Surely these are his rooms?" + +Catherine attempted to explain. "They _were_ Captain Bennydeck's +rooms," she began; "but he was so kind, although we are perfect +strangers to him--" + +Mrs. Presty interposed. "My dear Catherine, you have not had my +advantages; you have not been taught to make a complicated +statement in few words. Permit me to seize the points (in the +late Mr. Presty's style) and to put them in the strongest light. +This place, Randal, is always full; and we didn't write long +enough beforehand to secure rooms. Captain Bennydeck happened to +be downstairs when he heard that we were obliged to go away, and +that one of us was a lady in delicate health. This sweetest of +men sent us word that we were welcome to take his rooms, and that +he would sleep on board his yacht. Conduct worthy of Sir Charles +Grandison himself. When I went downstairs to thank him, he was +gone--and here we have been for nearly three weeks; sometimes +seeing the Captain's yacht, but, to our great surprise, never +seeing the Captain himself." + +"There's nothing to be surprised at, Mrs. Presty. Captain +Bennydeck likes doing kind things, and hates being thanked for +it. I expected him to meet me here to-day." + +Catherine went to the window. "He is coming to meet you," she +said. "There is his yacht in the bay." + +"And in a dead calm," Randal added, joining her. "The vessel will +not get here, before I am obliged to go away again." + +Catherine looked at him timidly. "Do I drive you away?" she +asked, in tones that faltered a little. + +Randal wondered what she could possibly be thinking of and +acknowledged it in so many words. + +"She is thinking of the Divorce," Mrs. Presty explained. "You +have heard of it, of course; and perhaps you take your brother's +part?" + +"I do nothing of the sort, ma'am. My brother has been in the +wrong from first to last." He turned to Catherine. "I will stay +with you as long as I can, with the greatest pleasure," he said +earnestly and kindly. "The truth is, I am on my way to visit some +friends; and if Captain Bennydeck had got here in time to see me, +I must have gone away to the junction to catch the next train +westward, just as I am going now. I had only two words to say to +the Captain about a person in whom he is interested--and I can +say them in this way." He wrote in pencil on one of his visiting +cards, and laid it on the table. "I shall be back in London, in a +week," he resumed, "and you will tell me at what address I can +find you. In the meanwhile, I miss Kitty. Where is she?" + +Kitty was sent for. She entered the room looking unusually quiet +and subdued--but, discovering Randal, became herself again in a +moment, and jumped on his knee. + +"Oh, Uncle Randal, I'm so glad to see you!" She checked herself, +and looked at her mother. "May I call him Uncle Randal?" she +asked. "Or has _he_ changed his name, too?" + +Mrs. Presty shook a warning forefinger at her granddaughter, and +reminded Kitty that she had been told not to talk about names. +Randal saw the child's look of bewilderment, and felt for her. +"She may talk as she pleases to me," he said "but not to +strangers. She understands that, I am sure." + +Kitty laid her cheek fondly against her uncle's cheek. +"Everything is changed," she whispered. "We travel about; papa +has left us, and Syd has left us, and we have got a new name. We +are Norman now. I wish I was grown up, and old enough to +understand it." + +Randal tried to reconcile her to her own happy ignorance. "You +have got your dear good mother," he said, "and you have got me, +and you have got your toys--" + +"And some nice boys and girls to play with," cried Kitty, eagerly +following the new suggestion. "They are all coming here directly +to dine with me. You will stay and have dinner too, won't you?" + +Randal promised to dine with Kitty when they met in London. +Before he left the room he pointed to his card on the table. "Let +my friend see that message," he said, as he went out. + +The moment the door had closed on him, Mrs. Presty startled her +daughter by taking up the card and looking at what Randal had +written on it. "It isn't a letter, Catherine; and you know how +superior I am to common prejudices." With that defense of her +proceeding, she coolly read the message: + + +"I am sorry to say that I can tell you nothing more of your old +friend's daughter as yet. I can only repeat that she neither +needs nor deserves the help that you kindly offer to her." + + +Mrs. Presty laid the card down again and owned that she wished +Randal had been a little more explicit. "Who can it be?" she +wondered. "Another young hussy gone wrong?" + +Kitty turned to her mother with a look of alarm. "What's a +hussy?" she asked. "Does grandmamma mean me?" The great hotel +clock in the hall struck two, and the child's anxieties took a +new direction. "Isn't it time my little friends came to see me?" +she said. + +It was half an hour past the time. Catherine proposed to send to +Lady Myrie and Mrs. Romsey, and inquire if anything had happened +to cause the delay. As she told Kitty to ring the bell, the +waiter came in with two letters, addressed to Mrs. Norman. + +Mrs. Presty had her own ideas, and drew her own conclusions. She +watched Catherine attentively. Even Kitty observed that her +mother's face grew paler and paler as she read the letters. "You +look as if you were frightened, mamma." There was no reply. Kitty +began to feel so uneasy on the subject of her dinner and her +guests, that she actually ventured on putting a question to her +grandmother. + +"Will they be long, do you think, before they come?" she asked. + +The old lady's worldly wisdom had passed, by this time from a +state of suspicion to a state of certainty. "My child," she +answered, "they won't come at all." + +Kitty ran to her mother, eager to inquire if what Mrs. Presty had +told her could possibly be true. Before a word had passed her +lips, she shrank back, too frightened to speak. + +Never, in her little experience, had she been startled by such a +look in her mother's face as the look that confronted her now. +For the first time Catherine saw her child trembling at the sight +of her. Before that discovery, the emotions that shook her under +the insult which she had received lost their hold. She caught +Kitty up in her arms. "My darling, my angel, it isn't you I am +thinking of. I love you!--I love you! In the whole world there +isn't such a good child, such a sweet, lovable, pretty child as +you are. Oh, how disappointed she looks--she's crying. Don't +break my heart!--don't cry!" Kitty held up her head, and cleared +her eyes with a dash of her hand. "I won't cry, mamma." And child +as she was, she was as good as her word. Her mother looked at her +and burst into tears. + +Perversely reluctant, the better nature that was in Mrs. Presty +rose to the surface, forced to show itself. "Cry, Catherine," she +said kindly; "it will do you good. Leave the child to me." + +With a gentleness that astonished Kitty, she led her little +granddaughter to the window, and pointed to the public walk in +front of the house. "I know what will comfort you," the wise old +woman began; "look out of the window." Kitty obeyed. + +"I don't see my little friends coming," she said. Mrs. Presty +still pointed to some object on the public walk. "That's better +than nothing, isn't it?" she persisted. "Come with me to the +maid; she shall go with you, and take care of you." Kitty +whispered, "May I give mamma a kiss first?" Sensible Mrs. Presty +delayed the kiss for a while. "Wait till you come back, and then +you can tell your mamma what a treat you have had." Arrived at +the door on their way out, Kitty whispered again: "I want to say +something"--"Well, what is it?"--"Will you tell the donkey-boy to +make him gallop?"--"I'll tell the boy he shall have sixpence if +you are satisfied; and you will see what he does then." Kitty +looked up earnestly in her grandmother's face. "What a pity it is +you are not always like what you are now!" she said. Mrs. Presty +actually blushed. + + + +Chapter XXXV. + + + +Captain Bennydeck. + + +For some time, Catherine and her mother had been left together +undisturbed. + +Mrs. Presty had read (and destroyed) the letters of Lady Myrie +and Mrs. Romsey, with the most unfeigned contempt for the +writers--had repeated what the judge had really said, as +distinguished from Lady Myrie's malicious version of it--and had +expressed her intention of giving Catherine a word of advice, +when she was sufficiently composed to profit by it. "You have +recovered your good looks, after that fit of crying," Mrs. Presty +admitted, "but not your good spirits. What is worrying you now?" + +"I can't help thinking of poor Kitty." + +"My dear, the child wants nobody's pity. She's blowing away all +her troubles by a ride in the fresh air, on the favorite donkey +that she feeds every morning. Yes, yes, you needn't tell me you +are in a false position; and nobody can deny that it's shameful +to make the child feel it. Now listen to me. Properly understood, +those two spiteful women have done you a kindness. They have as +good as told you how to protect yourself in the time to come. +Deceive the vile world, Catherine, as it deserves to be deceived. +Shelter yourself behind a respectable character that will spare +you these insults in the future." In the energy of her +conviction, Mrs. Presty struck her fist on the table, and +finished in three audacious words: "Be a Widow!" + +It was plainly said--and yet Catherine seemed to be at a loss to +understand what her mother meant. + +"Don't doubt about it," Mrs. Presty went on; "do it. Think of +Kitty if you won't think of yourself. In a few years more she +will be a young lady. She may have an offer of marriage which may +be everything we desire. Suppose her sweetheart's family is a +religious family; and suppose your Divorce, and the judge's +remarks on it, are discovered. What will happen then?" + +"Is it possible that you are in earnest?" Catherine asked. "Have +you seriously thought of the advice that you are giving me? +Setting aside the deceit, you know as well as I do that Kitty +would ask questions. Do you think I can tell my child that her +father is dead? A lie--and such a dreadful lie as that?" + +"Nonsense!" said Mrs. Presty.. + +"Nonsense?" Catherine repeated indignantly. + +"Rank nonsense," her mother persisted. "Hasn't your situation +forced you to lie already? When the child asks why her father and +her governess have left us, haven't you been obliged to invent +excuses which are lies? If the man who was once your husband +isn't as good as dead to _you_, I should like to know what your +Divorce means! My poor dear, do you think you can go on as you +are going on now? How many thousands of people have read the +newspaper account of the trial? How many hundreds of +people--interested in a handsome woman like you--will wonder why +they never see Mr. Norman? What? You will go abroad again? Go +where you may, you will attract attention; you will make an enemy +of every ugly woman who looks at you. Strain at a gnat, +Catherine, and swallow a camel. It's only a question of time. +Sooner or later you will be a Widow. Here's the waiter again. +What does the man want now?" + +The waiter answered by announcing: + +"Captain Bennydeck." + +Catherine's mother was nearer to the door than Catherine; she +attracted the Captain's attention first. He addressed his +apologies to her. "Pray excuse me for disturbing you--" + +Mrs. Presty had an eye for a handsome man, irrespective of what +his age might be. In the language of the conjurors a "magic +change" appeared in her; she became brightly agreeable in a +moment. + +"Oh, Captain Bennydeck, you mustn't make excuses for coming into +your own room!" + +Captain Bennydeck went on with his excuses, nevertheless. "The +landlady tells me that I have unluckily missed seeing Mr. Randal +Linley, and that he has left a message for me. I shouldn't +otherwise have ventured--" + +Mrs. Presty stopped him once more. The Captain's claim to the +Captain's rooms was the principle on which she took her stand. +She revived the irresistible smiles which had conquered Mr. +Norman and Mr. Presty. "No ceremony, I beg and pray! You are at +home here--take the easy-chair!" + +Catherine advanced a few steps; it was time to stop her mother, +if the thing could be done. She felt just embarrassment enough to +heighten her color, and to show her beauty to the greatest +advantage. It literally staggered the Captain, the moment he +looked at her. His customary composure, as a well-bred man, +deserted him; he bowed confusedly; he had not a word to say. Mrs. +Presty seized her opportunity, and introduced them to each other. +"My daughter Mrs. Norman--Captain Bennydeck." Compassionating him +under the impression that he was a shy man, Catherine tried to +set him at his ease. "I am indeed glad to have an opportunity of +thanking you," she said, inviting him by a gesture to be seated. +"In this delightful air, I have recovered my health, and I owe it +to your kindness." + +The Captain regained his self-possession. Expressions of +gratitude had been addressed to him which, in his modest estimate +of himself, he could not feel that he had deserved. + +"You little know," he replied, "under what interested motives I +have acted. When I established myself in this hotel, I was fairly +driven out of my yacht by a guest who went sailing with me." + +Mrs. Presty became deeply interested. "Dear me, what did he do?" + +Captain Bennydeck answered gravely: "He snored." + +Catherine was amused; Mrs. Presty burst out laughing; the +Captain's dry humor asserted itself as quaintly as ever. "This is +no laughing matter," he resumed, looking at Catherine. "My vessel +is a small one. For two nights the awful music of my friend's +nose kept me sleepless. When I woke him, and said, 'Don't snore,' +he apologized in the sweetest manner, and began again. On the +third day I anchored in the bay here, determined to get a night's +rest on shore. A dispute about the price of these rooms offered +them to me. I sent a note of apology on board--and slept +peacefully. The next morning, my sailing master informed me that +there had been what he called 'a little swell in the night.' He +reported the sounds made by my friend on this occasion to have +been the awful sounds of seasickness. 'The gentleman left the +yacht, sir, the first thing this morning,' he said; 'and he's +gone home by railway.' On the day when you happened to arrive, my +cabin was my own again; and I can honestly thank you for +relieving me of my rooms. Do you make a long stay, Mrs. Norman?" + +Catherine answered that they were going to London by the next +train. Seeing Randal's card still unnoticed on the table, she +handed it to the Captain. + +"Is Mr. Linley an old friend of yours?" he asked, as he took the +card. + +Mrs. Presty hastened to answer in the affirmative for her +daughter. It was plain that Randal had discreetly abstained from +mentioning his true connection with them. Would he preserve the +same silence if the Captain spoke of his visit to Mrs. Norman, +when he and his friend met next? Mrs. Presty's mind might have +been at ease on that subject, if she had known how to appreciate +Randal's character and Randal's motives. The same keen sense of +the family disgrace, which had led him to conceal from Captain +Bennydeck his brother's illicit relations with Sydney +Westerfield, had compelled him to keep secret his former +association, as brother-in-law, with the divorced wife. Her +change of name had hitherto protected her from discovery by the +Captain, and would in all probability continue to protect her in +the future. The good Bennydeck had been enjoying himself at sea +when the Divorce was granted, and when the newspapers reported +the proceedings. He rarely went to his club, and he never +associated with persons of either sex to whom gossip and scandal +are as the breath of their lives. Ignorant of these +circumstances, and remembering what had happened on that day, +Mrs. Presty looked at him with some anxiety on her daughter's +account, while he was reading the message on Randal's card. There +was little to see. His fine face expressed a quiet sorrow, and he +sighed as he put the card back in his pocket. + +An interval of silence followed. Captain Bennydeck was thinking +over the message which he had just read. Catherine and her mother +were looking at him with the same interest, inspired by very +different motives. The interview so pleasantly begun was in some +danger of lapsing into formality and embarrassment, when a new +personage appeared on the scene. + +Kitty had returned in triumph from her ride. "Mamma! the donkey +did more than gallop--he kicked, and I fell off. Oh, I'm not +hurt!" cried the child, seeing the alarm in her mother's face. +"Tumbling off is such a funny sensation. It isn't as if you fell +on the ground; it's as if the ground came up to _you_ and +said--Bump!" She had got as far as that, when the progress of her +narrative was suspended by the discovery of a strange gentleman +in the room. + +The smile that brightened the captain's face, when Kitty opened +the door, answered for him as a man who loved children. "Your +little girl, Mrs. Norman?" he said. + +"Yes." + +(A common question and a common reply. Nothing worth noticing, in +either the one or the other, at the time--and yet they proved to +be important enough to turn Catherine's life into a new course.) + +In the meanwhile, Kitty had been whispering to her mother. She +wanted to know the strange gentleman's name. The Captain heard +her. "My name is Bennydeck," he said; "will you come to me?" + +Kitty had heard the name mentioned in connection with a yacht. +Like all children, she knew a friend the moment she looked at +him. "I've seen your pretty boat, sir," she said, crossing the +room to Captain Bennydeck. "Is it very nice when you go sailing?" + +"If you were not going back to London, my dear, I should ask your +mamma to let me take you sailing with me. Perhaps we shall have +another opportunity." + +The Captain's answer delighted Kitty. "Oh, yes, tomorrow or next +day!" she suggested. "Do you know where to find me in London? +Mamma, where do I live, when I am in London?" Before her mother +could answer, she hit on a new idea. "Don't tell me; I'll find it +for myself. It's on grandmamma's boxes, and they're in the +passage." + +Captain Bennydeck's eyes followed her, as she left the room, with +an expression of interest which more than confirmed the favorable +impression that he had already produced on Catherine. She was on +the point of asking if he was married, and had children of his +own, when Kitty came back, and declared the right address to be +Buck's Hotel, Sydenham. "Mamma puts things down for fear of +forgetting them," she added. "Will you put down Buck?" + +The Captain took out his pocketbook, and appealed pleasantly to +Mrs. Norman. "May I follow your example?" he asked. Catherine not +only humored the little joke, but, gratefully remembering his +kindness, said: "Don't forget, when you are in London, that +Kitty's invitation is my invitation, too." At the same moment, +punctual Mrs. Presty looked at her watch, and reminded her +daughter that railways were not in the habit of allowing +passengers to keep them waiting. Catherine rose, and gave her +hand to the Captain at parting. Kitty improved on her mother's +form of farewell; she gave him a kiss and whispered a little +reminder of her own: "There's a river in London--don't forget +your boat." + +Captain Bennydeck opened the door for them, secretly wishing that +he could follow Mrs. Norman to the station and travel by the same +train. + +Mrs. Presty made no attempt to remind him that she was still in +the room. Where her family interests were concerned, the old lady +was capable (on very slight encouragement) of looking a long way +into the future. She was looking into the future now. The +Captain's social position was all that could be desired; he was +evidently in easy pecuniary circumstances; he admired Catherine +and Catherine's child. If he only proved to be a single man, Mrs. +Presty's prophetic soul, without waiting an instant to reflect, +perceived a dazzling future. Captain Bennydeck approached to take +leave. "Not just yet," pleaded the most agreeable of women; "my +luggage was ready two hours ago. Sit down again for a few +minutes. You seem to like my little granddaughter." + +"If I had such a child as that," the Captain answered, "I believe +I should be the happiest man living." + +"Ah, my dear sir, all isn't gold that glitters," Mrs. Presty +remarked. "That proverb must have been originally intended to +apply to children. May I presume to make you the subject of a +guess? I fancy you are not a married man." + +The Captain looked a little surprised. "You are quite right," he +said; "I have never been married." + +At a later period, Mrs. Presty owned that she felt an inclination +to reward him for confessing himself to be a bachelor, by a kiss. +He innocently checked that impulse by putting a question. "Had +you any particular reason," he asked, "for guessing that I was a +single man?" + +Mrs. Presty modestly acknowledged that she had only her own +experience to help her. "You wouldn't be quite so fond of other +people's children," she said, "if you were a married man. Ah, +your time will come yet--I mean your wife will come." + +He answered this sadly. "My time has gone by. I have never had +the opportunities that have been granted to some favored men." He +thought of the favored man who had married Mrs. Norman. Was her +husband worthy of his happiness? "Is Mr. Norman with you at this +place?" the Captain asked. + +Serious issues depended on the manner in which this question was +answered. For one moment, and for one moment only, Mrs. Presty +hesitated. Then (in her daughter's interest, of course) she put +Catherine in the position of a widow, in the least blamable of +all possible ways, by honestly owning the truth. + +"There is no Mr. Norman," she said. + +"Your daughter is a widow!" cried the Captain, perfectly unable +to control his delight at that discovery. + +"What else should she be?" Mrs. Presty replied, facetiously. + +What else, indeed! If "no Mr. Norman" meant (as it must surely +mean) that Mr. Norman was dead, and if the beautiful mother of +Kitty was an honest woman, her social position was beyond a +doubt. Captain Bennydeck felt a little ashamed of his own +impetuosity. Before he had made up his mind what to say next, the +unlucky waiter (doomed to be a cause of disturbance on that day) +appeared again. + +"I beg your pardon, ma'am," he said; "the lady and gentleman who +have taken these rooms have just arrived." + +Mrs. Presty got up in a hurry, and cordially shook hands with the +Captain. Looking round, she took up the railway guide and her +knitting left on the table. Was there anything else left about? +There was nothing to be seen. Mrs. Presty crossed the passage to +her daughter's bedroom, to hurry the packing. Captain Bennydeck +went downstairs, on his way back to the yacht. + +In the hall of the hotel he passed the lady and gentleman--and, +of course, noticed the lady. She was little and dark and would +have been pretty, if she had not looked ill and out of spirits. +What would he have said, what would he have done, if he had known +that those two strangers were Randal Linley's brother and +Roderick Westerfield's daughter? + + + +Chapter XXXVI + + + +Mr. and Mrs. Herbert. + + +The stealthy influence of distrust fastens its hold on the mind +by slow degrees. Little by little it reaches its fatal end, and +disguises delusion successfully under the garb of truth. + +Day after day, the false conviction grew on Sydney's mind that +Herbert Linley was comparing the life he led now with the happier +life which he remembered at Mount Morven. Day after day, her +unreasoning fear contemplated the time when Herbert Linley would +leave her friendless, in the world that had no place in it for +women like herself. Delusion--fatal delusion that looked like +truth! Morally weak as he might be, the man whom she feared to +trust had not yet entirely lost the sense which birth and +breeding had firmly fastened in him--the sense of honor. Acting +under that influence, he was (if the expression may be permitted) +consistent even in inconsistency. With equal sincerity of +feeling, he reproached himself for his infidelity toward the +woman whom he had deserted, and devoted himself to his duty +toward the woman whom he had misled. In Sydney's presence--suffer +as he might under the struggle to maintain his resolution when he +was alone--he kept his intercourse with her studiously gentle in +manner, and considerate in language; his conduct offered +assurances for the future which she could only see through the +falsifying medium of her own distrust. + +In the delusion that now possessed her she read, over and over +again, the letter which Captain Bennydeck had addressed to her +father; she saw, more and more clearly, the circumstances which +associated her situation with the situation of the poor girl who +had closed her wasted life among the nuns in a French convent. + +Two results followed on this state of things. + +When Herbert asked to what part of England they should go, on +leaving London, she mentioned Sandyseal as a place that she had +heard of, and felt some curiosity to see. The same day--bent on +pleasing her, careless where he lived now, at home or abroad--he +wrote to engage rooms at the hotel. + +A time followed, during which they were obliged to wait until +rooms were free. In this interval, brooding over the melancholy +absence of a friend or relative in whom she could confide, her +morbid dread of the future decided her on completing the parallel +between herself and that other lost creature of whom she had +read. Sydney opened communication anonymously with the +Benedictine community at Sandyseal. + +She addressed the Mother Superior; telling the truth about +herself with but one concealment, the concealment of names. She +revealed her isolated position among her fellow-creatures; she +declared her fervent desire to repent of her wickedness, and to +lead a religious life; she acknowledged her misfortune in having +been brought up by persons careless of religion, and she +confessed to having attended a Protestant place of worship, as a +mere matter of form connected with the duties of a teacher at a +school. "The religion of any Christian woman who will help me to +be more like herself," she wrote, "is the religion to which I am +willing and eager to belong. If I come to you in my distress, +will you receive me?" To that simple appeal, she added a request +that an answer might be addressed to "S.W., Post-office, +Sandyseal." + +When Captain Bennydeck and Sydney Westerfield passed each other +as strangers, in the hall of the hotel, that letter had been +posted in London a week since. + + + +The servant showed "Mr. and Mrs. Herbert" into their +sitting-room, and begged that they would be so good as to wait +for a few minutes, while the other rooms were being prepared for +them. + +Sydney seated herself in silence. She was thinking of her letter, +and wondering whether a reply was waiting for her at the +post-office. + +Moving toward the window to look at the view, Herbert paused to +examine some prints hanging on the walls, which were superior as +works of art to the customary decorations of a room at a hotel. +If he had gone straight to the window he might have seen his +divorced wife, his child, and his wife's mother, getting into the +carriage which took them to the railway station. + +"Come, Sydney," he said, "and look at the sea." + +She joined him wearily, with a faint smile. It was a calm, sunny +day. Bathing machines were on the beach; children were playing +here and there; and white sails of pleasure boats were visible in +the offing. The dullness of Sandyseal wore a quiet homely aspect +which was pleasant to the eyes of strangers. Sydney said, +absently, "I think I shall like the place." And Herbert added: +"Let us hope that the air will make you feel stronger." He meant +it and said it kindly--but, instead of looking at her while he +spoke, he continued to look at the view. A woman sure of her +position would not have allowed this trifling circumstance, even +if she had observed it, to disturb her. Sydney thought of the day +in London when he had persisted in looking out at the street, and +returned in silence to her chair. + +Had he been so unfortunate as to offend her? And in what way? As +that doubt occurred to Herbert his mind turned to Catherine. +_She_ never took offense at trifles; a word of kindness from him, +no matter how unimportant it might be, always claimed +affectionate acknowledgment in the days when he was living with +his wife. In another moment he had dismissed that remembrance, +and could trust himself to return to Sydney. + +"If you find that Sandyseal confirms your first impression," he +said, "let me know it in time, so that I may make arrangements +for a longer stay. I have only taken the rooms here for a +fortnight." + +"Thank you, Herbert; I think a fortnight will be long enough." + +"Long enough for you?" he asked. + +Her morbid sensitiveness mistook him again; she fancied there was +an undernote of irony in his tone. + +"Long enough for both of us," she replied. + +He drew a chair to her side. "Do you take it for granted," he +said, smiling, "that I shall get tired of the place first?" + +She shrank, poor creature, even from his smile. There was, as she +thought, something contemptuous in the good-humor of it. + +"We have been to many places," she reminded him, "and we have got +tired of them together." + +"Is that my fault?" + +"I didn't say it was." + +He got up and approached the bell. "I think the journey has a +little over-tired you," he resumed. "Would you like to go to your +room?" + +"I will go to my room, if you wish it." + +He waited a little, and answered her as quietly as ever. "What I +really wish," he said, "is that we had consulted a doctor while +we were in London. You seem to be very easily irritated of late. +I observe a change in you, which I willingly attribute to the +state of your health--" + +She interrupted him. "What change do you mean?" + +"It's quite possible I may be mistaken, Sydney. But I have more +than once, as I think, seen something in your manner which +suggests that you distrust me." + +"I distrust the evil life we are leading," she burst out, "and I +see the end of it coming. Oh, I don't blame you! You are kind and +considerate, you do your best to hide it; but you have lived long +enough with me to regret the woman whom you have lost. You begin +to feel the sacrifice you have made--and no wonder. Say the word, +Herbert, and I release you." + +"I will never say the word!" + +She hesitated--first inclined, then afraid, to believe him. "I +have grace enough left in me," she went on, "to feel the +bitterest repentance for the wrong that I have done to Mrs. +Linley. When it ends, as it must end, in our parting, will you +ask your wife--?" + +Even his patience began to fail him; he refused--firmly, not +angrily--to hear more. "She is no longer my wife," he said. + +Sydney's bitterness and Sydney's penitence were mingled, as +opposite emotions only _can_ be mingled in a woman's breast. +"Will you ask your wife to forgive you?" she persisted. + +"After we have been divorced at her petition?" He pointed to the +window as he said it. "Look at the sea. If I was drowning out +yonder, I might as well ask the sea to forgive me." + +He produced no effect on her. She ignored the Divorce; her +passionate remorse asserted itself as obstinately as ever. "Mrs. +Linley is a good woman," she insisted; "Mrs. Linley is a +Christian woman." + +"I have lost all claim on her--even the claim to remember her +virtues," he answered, sternly. "No more of it, Sydney! I am +sorry I have disappointed you; I am sorry if you are weary of +me." + +At those last words her manner changed. "Wound me as cruelly as +you please," she said, humbly. "I will try to bear it." + +"I wouldn't wound you for the world! Why do you persist in +distressing me? Why do you feel suspicion of me which I have not +deserved?" He stopped, and held out his hand. "Don't let us +quarrel, Sydney. Which will you do? Keep your bad opinion of me, +or give me a fair trial?" + +She loved him dearly; she was so young--and the young are so +ready to hope! Still, she struggled against herself. "Herbert! is +it your pity for me that is speaking now?" + +He left her in despair. "It's useless!" he said, sadly. "Nothing +will conquer your inveterate distrust." + +She followed him. With a faint cry of entreaty she made him turn +to her, and held him in a trembling embrace, and rested her head +on his bosom. "Forgive me--be patient with me--love me." That was +all she could say. + +He attempted to calm her agitation by speaking lightly. "At last, +Sydney, we are friends again!" he said. + +Friends? All the woman in her recoiled from that insufficient +word. "Are we Lovers?" she whispered. + +"Yes!" + +With that assurance her anxious heart was content. She smiled; +she looked out at the sea with a new appreciation of the view. +"The air of this place will do me good now," she said. "Are my +eyes red, Herbert? Let me go and bathe them, and make myself fit +to be seen." + +She rang the bell. The chambermaid answered it, ready to show the +other rooms. She turned round at the door. + +"Let's try to make our sitting-room look like home," she +suggested. "How dismal, how dreadfully like a thing that doesn't +belong to us, that empty table looks! Put some of your books and +my keepsakes on it, while I am away. I'll bring my work with me +when I come back." + +He had left his travelers' bag on a chair, when he first came in. +Now that he was alone, and under no restraint, he sighed as he +unlocked the bag. "Home?" he repeated; "we have no home. Poor +girl! poor unhappy girl! Let me help her to deceive herself." + +He opened the bag. The little fragile presents, which she called +her "keepsakes," had been placed by her own hands in the upper +part of the bag, so that the books should not weigh on them, and +had been carefully protected by wrappings of cotton wool. Taking +them out, one by one, Herbert found a delicate china candlestick +(intended to hold a wax taper) broken into two pieces, in spite +of the care that had been taken to preserve it. Of no great value +in itself, old associations made the candlestick precious to +Sydney. It had been broken at the stem and could be easily mended +so as to keep the accident concealed. Consulting the waiter, +Herbert discovered that the fracture could be repaired at the +nearest town, and that the place would be within reach when he +went out for a walk. In fear of another disaster, if he put it +back in the bag, he opened a drawer in the table, and laid the +two fragments carefully inside, at the further end. In doing +this, his hand touched something that had been already placed in +the drawer. He drew it out, and found that it was a book--the +same book that Mrs. Presty (surely the evil genius of the family +again!) had hidden from Randal's notice, and had forgotten when +she left the hotel. + + +Herbert instantly recognized the gilding on the cover, imitated +from a design invented by himself. He remembered the inscription, +and yet he read it again: + +"To dear Catherine, from Herbert, on the anniversary of our +marriage." + +The book dropped from his hand on the table, as if it had been a +new discovery, torturing him with a new pain. + +His wife (he persisted in thinking of her as his wife) must have +occupied the room--might perhaps have been the person whom he had +succeeded, as a guest at the hotel. Did she still value his +present to her, in remembrance of old times? No! She valued it so +little that she had evidently forgotten it. Perhaps her maid +might have included it among the small articles of luggage when +they left home, or dear little Kitty might have put it into one +of her mother's trunks. In any case, there it was now, abandoned +in the drawer of a table at a hotel. + +"Oh," he thought bitterly, "if I could only feel as coldly toward +Catherine as she feels toward me!" His resolution had resisted +much; but this final trial of his self-control was more than he +could sustain. He dropped into a chair--his pride of manhood +recoiled from the contemptible weakness of crying--he tried to +remember that she had divorced him, and taken his child from him. +In vain! in vain! He burst into tears. + + + +Chapter XXXVII. + + +Mrs. Norman. + + +With a heart lightened by reconciliation (not the first +reconciliation unhappily), with hopes revived, and sweet content +restored, Sydney's serenity of mind was not quite unruffled. Her +thoughts were not dwelling on the evil life which she had +honestly deplored, or on the wronged wife to whom she had been +eager to make atonement. Where is the woman whose sorrows are not +thrown into the shade by the bright renewal of love? The one +anxiety that troubled Sydney was caused by remembrance of the +letter which she had sent to the convent at Sandyseal. + +As her better mind now viewed it, she had doubly injured +Herbert--first in distrusting him; then by appealing from him to +the compassion of strangers. + +If the reply for which she had rashly asked was waiting for her +at that moment--if the mercy of the Mother Superior was ready to +comfort and guide her--what return could she make? how could she +excuse herself from accepting what was offered in kindly reply to +her own petition? She had placed herself, for all she knew to the +contrary, between two alternatives of ingratitude equally +unendurable, equally degrading. To feel this was to feel the +suspense which, to persons of excitable temperament, is of all +trials the hardest to bear. The chambermaid was still in her +room--Sydney asked if the post-office was near to the hotel. + +The woman smiled. "Everything is near us, ma'am, in this little +place. Can we send to the post-office for you?" + +Sydney wrote her initials. "Ask, if you please, for a letter +addressed in that way." She handed the memorandum to the +chambermaid. "Corresponding with her lover under her husband's +nose!" That was how the chambermaid explained it below stairs, +when the porter remarked that initials looked mysterious. + +The Mother Superior had replied. Sydney trembled as she opened +the letter. It began kindly. + +"I believe you, my child, and I am anxious to help you. But I +cannot correspond with an unknown person. If you decide to reveal +yourself, it is only right to add that I have shown your letter +to the Reverend Father who, in temporal as in spiritual things, +is our counselor and guide. To him I must refer you, in the first +instance. His wisdom will decide the serious question of +receiving you into our Holy Church, and will discover, in due +time, if you have a true vocation to a religious life. With the +Father's sanction, you may be sure of my affectionate desire to +serve you." + +Sydney put the letter back in the envelope, feeling gratefully +toward the Mother Superior, but determined by the conditions +imposed on her to make no further advance toward the Benedictine +community. + +Even if her motive in writing to the convent had remained +unchallenged, the allusions to the priest would still have +decided her on taking this step. The bare idea of opening her +inmost heart, and telling her saddest secrets, to a man, and that +man a stranger, was too repellent to be entertained for a moment. +In a few lines of reply, gratefully and respectfully written, she +thanked the Mother Superior, and withdrew from the +correspondence. + +The letter having been closed, and posted in the hotel box, she +returned to the sitting-room free from the one doubt that had +troubled her; eager to show Herbert how truly she believed in +him, how hopefully she looked to the future. + +With a happy smile on her lips she opened the door. She was on +the point of asking him playfully if he had felt surprised at her +long absence--when the sight that met her eyes turned her cold +with terror in an instant. + +His arms were stretched out on the table; his head was laid on +them, despair confessed itself in his attitude; grief spoke in +the deep sobbing breaths that shook him. Love and compassion +restored Sydney's courage; she advanced to raise him in her +arms--and stopped once more. The book on the table caught her +eye. He was still unconscious of her presence; she ventured to +open it. She read the inscription--looked at him--looked back at +the writing--and knew the truth at last. + +The rigor of the torture that she suffered paralyzed all outward +expression of pain. Quietly she put the book back on the table. +Quietly she touched him, and called him by his name. + +He started and looked up; he made an attempt to speak to her in +his customary tone. "I didn't hear you come in," he said. + +She pointed to the book, without the slightest change in her face +or her manner. + +"I have read the inscription to your wife," she answered; "I have +seen you while you thought you were alone; the mercy which has so +long kept the truth from me is mercy wasted now. Your bonds are +broken, Herbert. You are a free man." + +He affected not to have understood her. She let him try to +persuade her of it, and made no reply. He declared, honestly +declared, that what she had said distressed him. She listened in +submissive silence. He took her hand, and kissed it. She let him +kiss it, and let him drop it at her side. She frightened him; he +began to fear for her reason. There was silence--long, horrid, +hopeless silence. + +She had left the door of the room open. One of the servants of +the hotel appeared outside in the passage. He spoke to some +person behind him. "Perhaps the book has been left in here," he +suggested. A gentle voice answered: "I hope the lady and +gentleman will excuse me, if I ask leave to look for my book." +She stepped into the room to make her apologies. + +Herbert Linley and Sydney Westerfield looked at the woman whom +they had outraged. The woman whom they had outraged paused, and +looked back at them. + +The hotel servant was surprised at their not speaking to each +other. He was a stupid man; he thought the gentlefolks were +strangely unlike gentlefolks in general; they seemed not to know +what to say. Herbert happened to be standing nearest to him; he +felt that it would be civil to the gentleman to offer a word of +explanation. + +"The lady had these rooms, sir. She has come back from the +station to look for a book that has been left behind." + +Herbert signed to him to go. As the man turned to obey, he drew +back. Sydney had moved to the door before him, to leave the room. +Herbert refused to permit it. "Stay here," he said to her gently; +"this room is yours." + +Sydney hesitated. Herbert addressed her again. He pointed to his +divorced wife. "You see how that lady is looking at you," he +said; "I beg that you will not submit to insult from anybody." + +Sydney obeyed him: she returned to the room. + +Catherine's voice was heard for the first time. She addressed +herself to Sydney with a quiet dignity--far removed from anger, +further removed still from contempt. + +"You were about to leave the room," she said. "I notice--as an +act of justice to _you_--that my presence arouses some sense of +shame." + +Herbert turned to Sydney; trying to recover herself, she stood +near the table. "Give me the book," he said; "the sooner this +comes to an end the better for her, the better for us." Sydney +gave him the book. With a visible effort, he matched Catherine's +self-control; after all, she had remembered his gift! He offered +the book to her. + +She still kept her eyes fixed on Sydney--still spoke to Sydney. + +"Tell him," she said, "that I refuse to receive the book." + +Sydney attempted to obey. At the first words she uttered, Herbert +checked her once more. + +"I have begged you already not to submit to insult." He turned to +Catherine. "The book is yours, madam. Why do you refuse to take +it?" + +She looked at him for the first time. A proud sense of wrong +flashed at him its keenly felt indignation in her first glance. +"Your hands and her hands have touched it," she answered. "I +leave it to _you_ and to _her_." + +Those words stung him. "Contempt," he said, "is bitter indeed on +your lips." + +"Do you presume to resent my contempt?" + +"I forbid you to insult Miss Westerfield." With that reply, he +turned to Sydney. "You shall not suffer while I can prevent it," +he said tenderly, and approached to put his arm round her. She +looked at Catherine, and drew back from his embrace, gently +repelling him by a gesture. + +Catherine felt and respected the true delicacy, the true +penitence, expressed in that action. She advanced to Sydney. +"Miss Westerfield," she said, "I will take the book--from you." + +Sydney gave back the book without a word; in her position silence +was the truest gratitude. Quietly and firmly Catherine removed +the blank leaf on which Herbert had written, and laid it before +him on the table. "I return your inscription. It means nothing +now." Those words were steadily pronounced; not the slightest +appearance of temper accompanied them. She moved slowly to the +door and looked back at Sydney. "Make some allowance for what I +have suffered," she said gently. "If I have wounded you, I regret +it." The faint sound of her dress on the carpet was heard in the +perfect stillness, and lost again. They saw her no more. + +Herbert approached Sydney. It was a moment when he was bound to +assure her of his sympathy. He felt for her. In his inmost heart +he felt for her. As he drew nearer, he saw tears in her eyes; but +they seemed to have risen without her knowledge. Hardly conscious +of his presence, she stood before him--lost in thought. + +He endeavored to rouse her. "Did I protect you from insult?" he +asked. + +She said absently: "Yes!" + +"Will you do as I do, dear? Will you try to forget?" + +She said: "I will try to atone," and moved toward the door of her +room. The reply surprised him; but it was no time then to ask for +an explanation. + +"Would you like to lie down, Sydney, and rest?" + +"Yes." + +She took his arm. He led her to the door of her room. "Is there +anything else I can do for you?" he asked. + +"Nothing, thank you." + +She closed the door--and abruptly opened it again. "One thing +more," she said. "Kiss me." + +He kissed her tenderly. Returning to the sitting-room, he looked +back across the passage. Her door was shut. + +His head was heavy; his mind felt confused. He threw himself on +the sofa--utterly exhausted by the ordeal through which he had +passed. In grief, in fear, in pain, the time still comes when +Nature claims her rights. The wretched worn-out man fell into a +restless sleep. He was awakened by the waiter, laying the cloth +for dinner. "It's just ready, sir," the servant announced; "shall +I knock at the lady's door?" + +Herbert got up and went to her room. + +He entered softly, fearing to disturb her if she too had slept. +No sign of her was to be seen. She had evidently not rested on +her bed. A morsel of paper lay on the smooth coverlet. There was +only a line written on it: "You may yet be happy--and it may +perhaps be my doing." + +He stood, looking at that last line of her writing, in the empty +room. His despair and his submission spoke in the only words that +escaped him: + +"I have deserved it!" + + + + +FIFTH BOOK. + + +Chapter XXXVIII. + + + +Hear the Lawyer. + + +"Mr. Herbert Linley, I ask permission to reply to your inquiries +in writing, because it is quite likely that some of the opinions +you will find here might offend you if I expressed them +personally. I can relieve your anxiety on the subject of Miss +Sydney Westerfield. But I must be allowed to do so in my own +way--without any other restraints than those which I think it +becoming to an honorable man to impose on himself. + +"You are quite right in supposing that Miss Westerfield had heard +me spoken of at Mount Morven, as the agent and legal adviser of +the lady who was formerly your wife. What purpose led her to +apply to me, under these circumstances, you will presently +discover. As to the means by which she found her way to my +office, I may remind you that any directory would give her the +necessary information. + +"Miss Westerfield's object was to tell me, in the first place, +that her guilty life with you was at an end. She has left your +protection--not to return to it. I was sorry to see (though she +tried to hide it from me) how keenly she felt the parting. You +have been dearly loved by two sweet women, and they have thrown +their hearts away on you--as women will. + +"Having explained the circumstances so far, Miss Westerfield next +mentioned the motive which had brought her to my office. She +asked if I would inform her of Mrs. Norman's address. + +"This request, I confess, astonished me. + +"To my mind she was, of all persons, the last who ought to +contemplate communicating in any way with Mrs. Norman. I say this +to you; but I refrained from saying it to her. What I did venture +to do was to ask for her reasons. She answered that they were +reasons which would embarrass her if she communicated them to a +stranger. + +"After this reply, I declined to give her the information she +wanted. + +"Not unprepared, as it appeared to me, for my refusal, she asked +next if I was willing to tell her where she might find your +brother, Mr. Randal Linley. In this case I was glad to comply +with her request. She could address herself to no person worthier +to advise her than your brother. In giving her his address in +London, I told her that he was absent on a visit to some friends, +and that he was expected to return in a week's time. + +"She thanked me, and rose to go. + +"I confess I was interested in her. Perhaps I thought of the time +when she might have been as dear to her father as my own +daughters are to me. I asked if her parents were living: they +were dead. My next question was: 'Have you any friends in +London?' She answered: 'I have no friends.' It was said with a +resignation so very sad in so young a creature that I was really +distressed. I ran the risk of offending her--and asked if she +felt any embarrassment in respect of money. She said: 'I have +some small savings from my salary when I was a governess.' The +change in her tone told me that she was alluding to the time of +her residence at Mount Morven. It was impossible to look at this +friendless girl, and not feel some anxiety about the lodging +which she might have chosen in such a place as London. She had +fortunately come to me from the railway, and had not thought yet +of where she was to live. At last I was able to be of some use to +her. My senior clerk took care of Miss Westerfield, and left her +among respectable people, in whose house she could live cheaply +and safely. Where that house is, I refuse (for her sake) to tell +you. She shall not be disturbed. + +"After a week had passed I received a visit from my good friend, +Randal Linley. + +"He had on that day seen Miss Westerfield. She had said to him +what she had said to me, and had repeated the request which I +thought it unwise to grant; owning to your brother, however, the +motives which she had refused to confide to me. He was so +strongly impressed by the sacrifice of herself which this +penitent woman had made, that he was at first disposed to trust +her with Mrs. Norman's address. + +"Reflection, however, convinced him that her motives, pure and +disinterested as they undoubtedly were, did not justify him in +letting her expose herself to the consequences which might follow +the proposed interview. All that he engaged to do was to repeat +to Mrs. Norman what Miss Westerfield had said, and to inform the +young lady of the result. + +"In the intervals of business, I had felt some uneasiness when I +thought of Miss Westerfield's prospects. Your good brother at +once set all anxiety on this subject at rest. + +"He proposed to place Miss Westerfield under the care of an old +and dear friend of her late father--Captain Bennydeck. Her +voluntary separation from you offered to your brother, and to the +Captain, the opportunity for which they had both been waiting. +Captain Bennydeck was then cruising at sea in his yacht. +Immediately on his return, Miss Westerfield's inclination would +be consulted, and she would no doubt eagerly embrace the +opportunity of being introduced to her father's friend. + +"I have now communicated all that I know, in reply to the +questions which you have addressed to me. Let me earnestly advise +you to make the one reparation to this poor girl which is in your +power. Resign yourself to a separation which is not only for her +good, but for yours.--SAMUEL SARRAZIN." + + + +Chapter XXXIX. + + +Listen to Reason. + + +Not having heard from Captain Bennydeck for some little time, +Randal thought it desirable in Sydney's interests to make +inquiries at his club. Nothing was known of the Captain's +movements there. On the chance of getting the information that he +wanted, Randal wrote to the hotel at Sandyseal. + +The landlord's reply a little surprised him. + +Some days since, the yacht had again appeared in the bay. Captain +Bennydeck had landed, to all appearance in fairly good health; +and had left by an early train for London. The sailing-master +announced that he had orders to take the vessel back to her +port--with no other explanation than that the cruise was over. +This alternative in the Captain's plans (terminating the voyage a +month earlier than his arrangements had contemplated) puzzled +Randal. He called at his friend's private residence, only to hear +from the servants that they had seen nothing of their master. +Randal waited a while in London, on the chance that Bennydeck +might pay him a visit. + +During this interval his patience was rewarded in an unexpected +manner. He discovered the Captain's address by means of a letter +from Catherine, dated "Buck's Hotel, Sydenham." Having gently +reproached him for not writing to her or calling on her, she +invited him to dinner at the hotel. Her letter concluded in these +words: "You will only meet one person besides ourselves--your +friend, and (since we last met) our friend too. Captain Bennydeck +has got tired of the sea. He is staying at this hotel, to try the +air of Sydenham, and he finds that it agrees with him." + +These lines set Randal thinking seriously. + +To represent Bennydeck as being "tired of the sea," and as being +willing to try, in place of the breezy Channel, the air of a +suburb of London, was to make excuses too perfectly futile and +absurd to deceive any one who knew the Captain. In spite of the +appearance of innocence which pervaded Catherine's letter, the +true motive for breaking off his cruise might be found, as Randal +concluded, in Catherine herself. Her residence at the sea-side, +helped by the lapse of time, had restored to her personal +attractions almost all they had lost under the deteriorating +influences of care and grief; and her change of name must have +protected her from a discovery of the Divorce which would have +shocked a man so sincerely religious as Bennydeck. Had her beauty +fascinated him? Was she aware of the interest that he felt in +her? and was it secretly understood and returned? Randal wrote +to accept the invitation; determining to present himself before +the appointed hour, and to question Catherine privately, without +giving her the advantage over him of preparing herself for the +interview. + +In the short time that passed before the day of the dinner, +distressing circumstances strengthened his resolution. After +months of separation, he received a visit from Herbert. + +Was this man--haggard, pallid, shabby, looking at him piteously +with bloodshot eyes--the handsome, pleasant, prosperous brother +whom he remembered? Randal was so grieved, that he was for a +moment unable to utter a word. He could only point to a seat. +Herbert dropped into the chair as if he was reduced to the last +extremity of fatigue. And yet he spoke roughly; he looked like an +angry man brought to bay. + +"I seem to frighten you," he said. + +"You distress me, Herbert, more than words can say." + +"Give me a glass of wine. I've been walking--I don't know where. +A long distance; I'm dead beat." + +He drank the wine greedily. Whatever reviving effect it might +otherwise have produced on him, it made no change in the +threatening gloom of his manner. In a man morally weak, calamity +(suffered without resisting power) breaks its way through the +surface which exhibits a gentleman, and shows the naked nature +which claims kindred with our ancestor the savage. + +"Do you feel better, Herbert?" + +He put down the empty glass, taking no notice of his brother's +question. "Randal," he said, "you know where Sydney is." + +Randal admitted it. + +"Give me her address. My mind's in such a state I can't remember +it; write it down." + +"No, Herbert." + +"You won't write it? and you won't give it?" + +"I will do neither the one nor the other. Go back to your chair; +fierce looks and clinched fists don't frighten me. Miss +Westerfield is quite right in separating herself from you. And +you are quite wrong in wishing to go back to her. There are my +reasons. Try to understand them. And, once again, sit down." + +He spoke sternly--with his heart aching for his brother all the +time. He was right. The one way is the positive way, when a man +who suffers trouble is degraded by it. + +The poor wretch sank under Randal's firm voice and steady eye. + +"Don't be hard on me," he said. "I think a man in my situation is +to be pitied--especially by his brother. I'm not like you; I'm +not accustomed to live alone. I've been accustomed to having a +kind woman to talk to me, and take care of me. You don't know +what it is to be used to seeing a pretty creature, always nicely +dressed, always about the room--thinking so much of you, and so +little of herself--and then to be left alone as I am left, out in +the dark. I haven't got my wife; she has thrown me over, and +taken my child away from me. And, now, Sydney's taken away from +me next. I'm alone. Do you hear that? Alone! Take the poker there +out of the fireplace. Give me back Sydney, or knock out my +brains. I haven't courage enough to do it for myself. Oh, why did +I engage that governess! I was so happy, Randal, with Catherine +and little Kitty." + +He laid his head wearily on the back of his chair. Randal offered +him more wine; he refused it. + +"I'm afraid," he said. "Wine maddens me if I take too much of it. +You have heard of men forgetting their sorrows in drink. I tried +it yesterday; it set my brains on fire; I'm feeling that glass I +took just now. No! I'm not faint. It eases my head when I rest +like this. Shake hands, Randal; we have never had any unfriendly +words; we mustn't begin now. There's something perverse about me. +I didn't know how fond I was of Sydney till I lost her; I didn't +know how fond I was of my wife till I left her." He paused, and +put his hand to his fevered head. Was his mind wandering into +some other train of thought? He astonished his brother by a new +entreaty--the last imaginable entreaty that Randal expected to +hear. "Dear old fellow, I want you to do me a favor. Tell me +where my wife is living now?" + +"Surely," Randal answered, "you know that she is no longer your +wife?" + +"Never mind that! I have something to say to her." + +"You can't do it." + +"Can _you_ do it? Will you give her a message?" + +"Let me hear what it is first." + +Herbert lifted his head, and laid his hand earnestly on his +brother's arm. When he said his next words he was almost like his +old self again. + +"Say that I'm lonely, say that I'm dying for want of a little +comfort--ask her to let me see Kitty." + +His tone touched Randal to the quick. "I feel for you, Herbert," +he said, warmly. "She shall have your message; all that I can do +to persuade her shall be done." + +"As soon as possible?" + +"Yes--as soon as possible." + +"And you won't forget? No, no; of course you won't forget." He +tried to rise, and fell back again into his chair. "Let me rest a +little," he pleaded, "if I'm not in the way. I'm not fit company +for you, I know; I'll go when you tell me." + +Randal refused to let him go at all. "You will stay here with me; +and if I happen to be away, there will be somebody in the house, +who is almost as fond of you as I am." He mentioned the name of +one of the old servants at Mount Morven, who had attached himself +to Randal after the breakup of the family. "And now rest," he +said, "and let me put this cushion under your head." + +Herbert answered: "It's like being at home again"--and composed +himself to rest. + + + +Chapter XL. + + +Keep Your Temper. + + +On the next day but one, Randal arranged his departure for +Sydenham, so as to arrive at the hotel an hour before the time +appointed for the dinner. His prospects of success, in pleading +for a favorable reception of his brother's message, were so +uncertain that he refrained--in fear of raising hopes which he +might not be able to justify--from taking Herbert into his +confidence. No one knew on what errand he was bent, when he left +the house. As he took his place in the carriage, the newspaper +boy appeared at the window as usual. The new number of a popular +weekly journal had that day been published. Randal bought it. + +After reading one or two of the political articles, he arrived at +the columns specially devoted to "Fashionable Intelligence." +Caring nothing for that sort of news, he was turning over the +pages in search of the literary and dramatic articles, when a +name not unfamiliar to him caught his eye. He read the paragraph +in which it appeared. + + +"The charming widow, Mrs. Norman, is, we hear, among the +distinguished guests staying at Buck's Hotel. It is whispered +that the lady is to be shortly united to a retired naval officer +of Arctic fame; now better known, perhaps, as one of our leading +philanthropists." + +The allusion to Bennydeck was too plain to be mistaken. Randal +looked again at the first words in the paragraph. "The charming +widow!" Was it possible that this last word referred to +Catherine? To suppose her capable of assuming to be a widow, +and--if the child asked questions--of telling Kitty that her +father was dead, was, in Randal's estimation, to wrong her +cruelly. With his own suspicions steadily contradicting him, he +arrived at the hotel, obstinately believing that "the charming +widow" would prove to be a stranger. + +A first disappointment was in store for him when he entered the +house. Mrs. Norman and her little daughter were out driving with +a friend, and were expected to return in good time for dinner. +Mrs. Presty was at home; she was reported to be in the garden of +the hotel. + +Randal found her comfortably established in a summerhouse, with +her knitting in her hands, and a newspaper on her lap. She +advanced to meet him, all smiles and amiability. "How nice of you +to come so soon!" she began. Her keen penetration discovered +something in his face which checked the gayety of her welcome. +"You don't mean to say that you are going to spoil our pleasant +little dinner by bringing bad news!" she added, looking at him +suspiciously. + +"It depends on you to decide that," Randal replied. + +"How very complimentary to a poor useless old woman! Don't be +mysterious, my dear. I don't belong to the generation which +raises storms in tea-cups, and calls skirmishes with savages +battles. Out with it!" + +Randal handed his paper to her, open at the right place. "There +is my news," he said. + +Mrs. Presty looked at the paragraph, and handed _her_ newspaper +to Randal. + +"I am indeed sorry to spoil your dramatic effect," she said. "But +you ought to have known that we are only half an hour behind you, +at Sydenham, in the matter of news. The report is premature, my +good friend. But if these newspaper people waited to find out +whether a report is true or false, how much gossip would society +get in its favorite newspapers? Besides, if it isn't true now, it +will be true next week. The author only says, 'It's whispered.' +How delicate of him! What a perfect gentleman!" + +"Am I really to understand, Mrs. Presty, that Catherine--" + +"You are to understand that Catherine is a widow. I say it with +pride, a widow of my making!" + +"If this is one of your jokes, ma'am--" + +"Nothing of the sort, sir." + +"Are you aware, Mrs. Presty, that my brother--" + +"Oh, don't talk of your brother! He's an obstacle in our way, and +we have been compelled to get rid of him." + +Randal drew back a step. Mrs. Presty's audacity was something +more than he could understand. "Is this woman mad?" he said to +himself. + +"Sit down," said Mrs. Presty. "If you are determined to make a +serious business of it--if you insist on my justifying +myself--you are to be pitied for not possessing a sense of humor, +but you shall have your own way. I am put on my defense. Very +well. You shall hear how my divorced daughter and my poor little +grandchild were treated at Sandyseal, after you left us." + +Having related the circumstances, she suggested that Randal +should put himself in Catherine's place, before he ventured on +expressing an opinion. "Would you have exposed yourself to be +humiliated again in the same way?" she asked. "And would you have +seen your child made to suffer as well as yourself?" + +"I should have kept in retirement for the future," he answered, +"and not have trusted my child and myself among strangers in +hotels." + +"Ah, indeed? And you would have condemned your poor little +daughter to solitude? You would have seen her pining for the +company of other children, and would have had no mercy on her? I +wonder what you would have done when Captain Bennydeck paid us a +visit at the seaside? He was introduced to Mrs. Norman, and to +Mrs. Norman's little girl, and we were all charmed with him. When +he and I happened to be left together he naturally wondered, +after having seen the beautiful wife, where the lucky husband +might be. If he had asked you about Mr. Norman, how would you +have answered him?" + +"I should have told the truth." + +"You would have said there was no Mr. Norman?" + +"Yes." + +"Exactly what I did! And the Captain of course concluded (after +having been introduced to Kitty) that Mrs. Norman was a widow. If +I had set him right, what would have become of my daughter's +reputation? If I had told the truth at this hotel, when everybody +wanted to know what Mrs. Norman, that handsome lady, was--what +would the consequences have been to Catherine and her little +girl? No! no! I have made the best of a miserable situation; I +have consulted the tranquillity of a cruelly injured woman and an +innocent child--with this inevitable result; I have been obliged +to treat your brother like a character in a novel. I have +ship-wrecked Herbert as the shortest way of answering +inconvenient questions. Vessel found bottom upward in the middle +of the Atlantic, and everybody on board drowned, of course. Worse +stories have been printed; I do assure you, worse stories have +been printed." + +Randal decided on leaving her. "Have you done all this with +Catherine's consent?" he asked as he got up from his chair. + +"Catherine submits to circumstances, like a sensible woman." + +"Does she submit to your telling Kitty that her father is dead?" + +For the first time Mrs. Presty became serious. + +"Wait a minute," she answered. "Before I consented to answer the +child's inquiries, I came to an understanding with her mother. I +said, 'Will you let Kitty see her father again?'" + +The very question which Randal had promised to ask in his +brother's interests! "And how did Catherine answer you?" he +inquired. + +"Honestly. She said: 'I daren't!' After that, I had her mother's +authority for telling Kitty that she would never see her father +again. She asked directly if her father was dead--" + +"That will do, Mrs. Presty. Your defense is thoroughly worthy of +your conduct in all other respects." + +"Say thoroughly worthy of the course forced upon me and my +daughter by your brother's infamous conduct--and you will be +nearer the mark!" + +Randal passed this over without notice. "Be so good," he said, +"as to tell Catherine that I try to make every possible allowance +for her, but that I cannot consent to sit at her dinner-table, +and that I dare not face my poor little niece, after what I have +heard." + +Mrs. Presty recovered all her audacity. "A very wise decision," +she remarked. "Your sour face would spoil the best dinner that +ever was put on the table. Have you any message for Captain +Bennydeck?" + +Randal asked if his friend was then at the hotel. + +Mrs. Presty smiled significantly. "Not at the hotel, just now." + +"Where is he?" + +"Where he is every day, about this time--out driving with +Catherine and Kitty." + +It was a relief to Randal--in the present state of Catherine's +relations toward Bennydeck--to return to London without having +seen his friend. + +He took leave of Mrs. Presty with the formality due to a +stranger--he merely bowed. That incorrigible old woman treated +him with affectionate familiarity in return. + +"Good-by, dear Randal. One moment before you go! Will it be of +any use if we invite you to the marriage?" + +Arrived at the station, Randal found that he must wait for the +train. While he was walking up and down the platform with a mind +doubly distressed by anxiety about his brother and anxiety about +Sydney, the train from London came in. He stood, looking absently +at the passengers leaving the carriage on the opposite side of +the platform. Suddenly, a voice that he knew was audible, asking +the way to Buck's Hotel. He crossed the line in an instant, and +found himself face to face with Herbert. + + + +Chapter XLI. + + +Make the Best of It. + + +For a moment the two men looked at each other without speaking. +Herbert's wondering eyes accurately reflected his brother's +astonishment. + +"What are you doing here?" he asked. Suspicion overclouded his +face as he put the question. "You have been to the hotel?" he +burst out; "you have seen Catherine?" + +Randal could deny that he had seen Catherine, with perfect +truth--and did deny it in the plainest terms. Herbert was +satisfied. "In all my remembrance of you," he said, "you have +never told me a lie. We have both seen the same newspaper, of +course--and you have been the first to clear the thing up. That's +it, isn't it?" + +"I wonder who this other Mrs. Norman is; did you find out?" + +"No." + +"She's not Catherine, at any rate; I, for one, shall go home with +a lighter heart." He took his brother's arm, to return to the +other platform. "Do you know, Randal, I was almost afraid that +Catherine was the woman. The devil take the thing, and the people +who write in it!" + +He snatched a newspaper out of his pocket as he spoke--tore it in +half--and threw it away. "Malcolm meant well, poor fellow," he +said, referring to the old servant, "but he made a miserable man +of me for all that." + +Not satisfied with gossip in private, the greedy public appetite +devours gossip in print, and wants more of it than any one editor +can supply. Randal picked up the torn newspaper. It was not the +newspaper which he had bought at the station. Herbert had been +reading a rival journal, devoted to the interests of Society--in +which the report of Mrs. Norman's marriage was repeated, with +this difference, that it boldly alluded to Captain Bennydeck by +name. "Did Malcolm give you this?" Randal asked. + +"Yes; he and the servant next door subscribe to take it in; and +Malcolm thought it might amuse me. It drove me out of the house +and into the railway. If it had driven me out of mind, I +shouldn't have been surprised." + +"Gently, Herbert! Supposing the report had been true--?" + +"After what you have told me, why should I suppose anything of +the sort?" + +"Don't be angry; and do pray remember that the Divorce allows you +and Catherine to marry again, if you like." + +Herbert became more unreasonable than ever. "If Catherine does +think of marrying again," he said, "the man will have to reckon +first with me. But that is not the point. You seem to have +forgotten that the woman at Buck's Hotel is described as a Widow. +The bare doubt that my divorced wife might be the woman was bad +enough--but what I wanted to find out was how she had passed off +her false pretense on our child. _That_ was what maddened me! No +more of it now. Have you seen Catherine lately?" + +"Not lately." + +"I suppose she is as handsome as ever. When will you ask her to +let me see Kitty?" + +"Leave that to me," was the one reply which Randal could venture +to make at the moment. + +The serious embarrassments that surrounded him were thickening +fast. His natural frank nature urged him to undeceive Herbert. If +he followed his inclinations, in the near neighborhood of the +hotel, who could say what disasters might not ensue, in his +brother's present frame of mind? If he made the disclosure on +their return to the house, he would be only running the same risk +of consequences, after an interval of delay; and, if he remained +silent, the march of events might, at any moment, lead to the +discovery of what he had concealed. Add to this, that his +confidence in Catherine had been rudely shaken. Having allowed +herself to be entrapped into the deception proposed by her +mother, and having thus far persevered in that deception, were +the chances in favor of her revealing her true +position--especially if she was disposed to encourage Bennydeck's +suit? Randal's loyalty to Catherine hesitated to decide that +serious question against the woman whom he had known, trusted, +and admired for so many years. In any event, her second marriage +would lead to one disastrous result. It would sooner or later +come to Herbert's ears. In the meantime, after what Mrs. Presty +had confessed, the cruel falsehood which had checked poor Kitty's +natural inquiries raised an insuperable obstacle to a meeting +between father and child. + +If Randal shrank from the prospect which thus presented itself to +him, in his relations with his brother, and if his thoughts +reverted to Sydney Westerfield, other reasons for apprehension +found their way into his mind. + +He had promised to do his best toward persuading Catherine to +grant Sydney an interview. To perform that promise appeared to be +now simply impossible. Under the exasperating influence of a +disappointment for which she was not prepared, it was hard to say +what act of imprudence Sydney might not commit. Even the chance +of successfully confiding her to Bennydeck's protection had lost +something of its fair promise, since Randal's visit to Sydenham. +That the Captain would welcome his friend's daughter as +affectionately as if she had been his own child, was not to be +doubted for a moment. But that she would receive the same +unremitting attention, while he was courting Catherine, which +would have been offered to her under other circumstances, was not +to be hoped. Be the results, however, what they might, Randal +could see but one plain course before him now. He decided on +hastening Sydney's introduction to Bennydeck, and on writing at +once to prepare the Captain for that event. + +Even this apparently simple proceeding required examination in +its different bearings, before he could begin his letter. + +Would he be justified in alluding to the report which associated +Bennydeck with Catherine? Considerations of delicacy seemed to +forbid taking this liberty, even with an intimate friend. It was +for the Captain to confirm what Mrs. Presty had said of him, if +he thought it desirable to touch on the subject in his reply. +Besides, looking to Catherine's interest--and not forgetting how +she had suffered--had Randal any right to regard with other than +friendly feelings a second marriage, which united her to a man +morally and intellectually the superior of her first husband? +What happier future could await her--especially if she justified +Randal's past experience of all that was candid and truthful in +her character--than to become his friend's wife? + +Written under the modifying influence of these conclusions, his +letter contained the few words that follow: + +"I have news for you which I am sure you will be glad to hear. +Your old friend's daughter has abandoned her sinful way of life, +and has made sacrifices which prove the sincerity of her repentance. +Without entering into particulars which may be mercifully +dismissed from notice, let me only assure you that I answer for +Sydney Westerfield as being worthy of the fatherly interest which +you feel in her. Shall I say that she may expect an early visit +from you, when I see her to-morrow? I don't doubt that I am free +already to do this; but it will encourage the poor girl, if I can +speak with your authority." + +He added Sydney's address in a postscript, and dispatched his +letter that evening. + + + +On the afternoon of the next day two letters were delivered to +Randal, bearing the Sydenham postmark. + +The first which he happened to take up was addressed to him in +Mrs. Presty's handwriting. His opinion of this correspondent was +expressed in prompt action--he threw the letter, unopened, into +the waste-paper basket. + +The next letter was from Bennydeck, written in the kindest terms, +but containing no allusion to any contemplated change in his +life. He would not be able (he wrote) to leave Sydenham for a day +or two. No explanation of the cause of this delay followed. But +it might, perhaps, be excusable to infer that the marriage had +not yet been decided on, and that the Captain's proposals were +still waiting for Catherine's reply. + +Randal put the letter in his pocket and went at once to Sydney's +lodgings. + + + +Chapter XLII. + + +Try to Excuse Her. + + +The weather had been unusually warm. Of all oppressive summers a +hot summer in London is the hardest to endure. The little +exercise that Sydney could take was, as Randal knew, deferred +until the evening. On asking for her, he was surprised to hear +that she had gone out. + +"Is she walking?" he asked, "on a day such as this?" + +No: she was too much overcome by the heat to be able to walk. The +landlady's boy had been sent to fetch a cab, and he had heard +Miss Westerfield tell the driver to go to Lincoln's Inn Fields. + +The address at once reminded Randal of Mr. Sarrazin. On the +chance of making a discovery, he went to the lawyer's office. It +had struck him as being just possible that Sydney might have +called there for the second time; and, on making inquiry, he +found that his surmise was correct. Miss Westerfield had called, +and had gone away again more than an hour since. + +Having mentioned this circumstance, good Mr. Sarrazin rather +abruptly changed the subject. + +He began to talk of the weather, and, like everybody else, he +complained of the heat. Receiving no encouragement so far, he +selected politics as his next topic. Randal was unapproachably +indifferent to the state of parties, and the urgent necessity for +reform. Still bent, as it seemed, on preventing his visitor from +taking a leading part in the conversation, Mr. Sarrazin tried the +exercise of hospitality next. He opened his cigar-case, and +entered eagerly into the merits of his cigars; he proposed a cool +drink, and described the right method of making it as +distinguished from the wrong. Randal was not thirsty, and was not +inclined to smoke. Would the pertinacious lawyer give way at +last? In appearance, at least, he submitted to defeat. "You want +something of me, my friend," he said, with a patient smile. "What +is it?" + +"I want to know why Miss Westerfield called on you?" + +Randal flattered himself that he had made a prevaricating reply +simply impossible. Nothing of the sort! Mr. Sarrazin slipped +through his fingers once more. The unwritten laws of gallantry +afforded him a refuge now. + +"The most inviolate respect," he solemnly declared, "is due to a +lady's confidence--and, what is more, to a young lady's +confidence--and, what is more yet, to a pretty young lady's +confidence. The sex, my dear fellow! Must I recall your +attention to what is due to the sex?" + +This little outbreak of the foreign side of his friend's +character was no novelty to Randal. He remained as indifferent to +the inviolate claims of the sex as if he had been an old man of +ninety. + +"Did Miss Westerfield say anything about me?" was his next +question. + +Slippery Mr. Sarrazin slid into another refuge: he entered a +protest. + +"Here is a change of persons and places!" he exclaimed. "Am I a +witness of the court of justice--and are you the lawyer who +examines me? My memory is defective, my learned friend. _Non mi +ricordo._ I know nothing about it." + +Randal changed his tone. "We have amused ourselves long enough," +he said. "I have serious reasons, Sarrazin, for wishing to know +what passed between Miss Westerfield and you--and I trust my old +friend to relieve my anxiety." + +The lawyer was accustomed to say of himself that he never did +things by halves. His answer to Randal offered a proof of his +accurate estimate of his own character. + +"Your old friend will deserve your confidence in him," he +answered. "You want to know why Miss Westerfield called here. Her +object in view was to twist me round her finger--and I beg to +inform you that she has completely succeeded. My dear Randal, +this pretty creature's cunning is remarkable even for a woman. I +am an old lawyer, skilled in the ways of the world--and a young +girl has completely overreached me. She asked--oh, heavens, how +innocently!--if Mrs. Norman was likely to make a long stay at her +present place of residence." + +Randal interrupted him. "You don't mean to tell me you have given +her Catherine's address?" + +"Buck's Hotel, Sydenham," Mr. Sarrazin answered. "She has got the +address down in her nice little pocketbook." + +"What amazing weakness!" Randal exclaimed. + +Mr. Sarrazin cordially agreed with him. "Amazing weakness, as you +say. Pretty Miss Sydney has extracted more things, besides the +address. She knows that Mrs. Norman is here on business relating +to new investments of her money. She knows besides that one of +the trustees is keeping us waiting. She also made sensible +remarks. She mentioned having heard Mrs. Norman say that the air +of London never agreed with her; and she hoped that a +comparatively healthy neighborhood had been chosen for Mrs. +Norman's place of residence. This, you see, was leading up to the +discovery of the address. The spirit of mischief possessed me; I +allowed Miss Westerfield to take a little peep at the truth. +'Mrs. Norman is not actually in London,' I said; 'she is only in +the neighborhood.' For what followed on this, my experience of +ladies ought to have prepared me. I am ashamed to say _this_ lady +took me completely by surprise." + +"What did she do?" + +"Fell on her knees, poor dear--and said: 'Oh, Mr. Sarrazin, be +kinder to me than you have ever been yet; tell me where Mrs. +Norman is!'--I put her back in her chair, and I took her +handkerchief out of her pocket and I wiped her eyes." + +"And then you told her the address?" + +"I was near it, but I didn't do it yet. I asked what you had done +in the matter. Alas, your kind heart has led you to promise more +than you could perform. She had waited to hear from you if Mrs. +Norman consented to see her, and had waited in vain. Hard on her, +wasn't it? I was sorry, but I was still obdurate. I only felt the +symptoms which warned me that I was going to make a fool of +myself, when she let me into her secret for the first time, and +said plainly what she wanted with Mrs. Norman. Her tears and her +entreaties I had resisted. The confession of her motives +overpowered me. It is right," cried Mr. Sarrazin, suddenly +warming into enthusiasm, "that these two women should meet. +Remember how that poor girl has proved that her repentance is no +sham. I say, she has a right to tell, and the lady whom she has +injured has a right to hear, what she has done to atone for the +past, what confession she is willing to make to the one woman in +the world (though she _is_ a divorced woman) who is most +interested in hearing what Miss Westerfield's life has been with +that wretched brother of yours. Ah, yes, I know what the English +cant might say. Away with the English cant! it is the worst +obstacle to the progress of the English nation!" + +Randal listened absently: he was thinking. + +There could be little doubt to what destination Sydney +Westerfield had betaken herself, when she left the lawyer's +office. At that moment, perhaps, she and Catherine were +together--and together alone. + +Mr. Sarrazin had noticed his friend's silence. "Is it possible +you don't agree with me?" he asked. + +"I don't feel as hopefully as you do, if these two ladies meet." + +"Ah, my friend, you are not a sanguine man by nature. If Mrs. +Norman treats our poor Sydney just as a commonplace ill-tempered +woman would treat her, I shall be surprised indeed. Say, if you +like, that she will be insulted--of this I am sure, she will not +return it; there is no expiation that is too bitter to be endured +by that resolute little creature. Her fine nature has been +tempered by adversity. A hard life has been Sydney's, depend upon +it, in the years before you and I met with her. Good heavens! +What would my wife say if she heard me? The women are nice, but +they have their drawbacks. Let us wait till tomorrow, my dear +boy; and let us believe in Sydney without allowing our wives--I +beg your pardon, I mean _my_ wife--to suspect in what forbidden +directions our sympathies are leading us. Oh, for shame!" + +Who could persist in feeling depressed in the company of such a +man as this? Randal went home with the influence of Mr. +Sarrazin's sanguine nature in undisturbed possession of him, +until his old servant's gloomy face confronted him at the door. + +"Anything gone wrong, Malcolm?" + +"I'm sorry to say, sir, Mr. Herbert has left us." + +"Left us! Why?" + +"I don't know, sir." + +"Where has he gone?" + +"He didn't tell me." + +"Is there no letter? No message?" + +"There's a message, sir. Mr. Herbert came back--" + +"Stop! Where had he been when he came back?" + +"He said he felt a little lonely after you went out, and he +thought it might cheer him up if he went to the club. I was to +tell you where he had gone if you asked what had become of him. +He said it kindly and pleasantly--quite like himself, sir. But, +when he came back--if you'll excuse my saying so--I never saw a +man in a worse temper. 'Tell my brother I am obliged to him for +his hospitality, and I won't take advantage of it any longer.' +That was Mr. Herbert's message. I tried to say a word. He banged +the door, and away he went." + +Even Randal's patient and gentle nature rose in revolt against +his brother's treatment of him. He entered his sitting-room in +silence. Malcolm followed, and pointed to a letter on the table. +"I think you must have thrown it away by mistake, sir," the old +man explained; "I found it in the waste-paper basket." He bowed +with the unfailing respect of the old school, and withdrew. + +Randal's first resolve was to dismiss his brother from further +consideration. "Kindness is thrown away on Herbert," he thought; +"I shall treat him for the future as he has treated me." + +But his brother was still in his mind. He opened Mrs. Presty's +letter--on the chance that it might turn the current of his +thoughts in a new direction. + +In spite of Mrs. Presty, in spite of himself, his heart softened +toward the man who had behaved so badly to him. Instead of +reading the letter, he was now trying to discover a connection +between his brother's visit to the club and his brother's angry +message. Had Herbert heard something said, among gossiping +members in the smoking-room, which might account for his conduct? +If Randal had belonged to the club he would have gone there to +make inquiries. How could he get the information that he wanted, +in some other way? + +After considering it for a while, he remembered the dinner that +he had given to his friend Sarrazin on his return from the United +States, and the departure of the lawyer to his club, with a +purpose in view which interested them both. It was the same club +to which Herbert belonged. Randal wrote at once to Mr. Sarrazin, +mentioning what had happened, and acknowledging the anxiety tha t +weighed on his mind. + +Having instructed Malcolm to take the letter to the lawyer's +house, and, if he was not at home, to inquire where he might be +found, Randal adopted the readiest means of composing himself, in +the servant's absence, by lighting his pipe. + +He was enveloped in clouds of tobacco-smoke--the only clouds +which we can trust never to prove unworthy of our confidence in +them--when Mrs. Presty's letter caught his attention. If the +month had been January instead of July, he would have thrown it +into the fire. Under present circumstances, he took it up and +read it: + + + +"I bear no malice, dear Randal, and I write to you as +affectionately as if you had kept your temper on the occasion +when we last met. + +"You will be pleased to hear that Catherine was as thoroughly +distressed as you could wish her to be, when it became my +disagreeable duty to mention what had passed between us, by way +of accounting for your absence. She was quite unable to rally her +spirits, even with dear Captain Bennydeck present to encourage +her. + +"'I am not receiving you as I ought,' she said to him, when we +began dinner, 'but there is perhaps some excuse for me. I have +lost the regard and esteem of an old friend, who has cruelly +wronged me.' From motives of delicacy (which I don't expect you +to understand) she refrained from mentioning your name. The +prettiest answer that I ever heard was the answer that the +Captain returned. 'Let the true friend,' he said, 'take the place +in your heart which the false friend has lost.' + +"He kissed her hand. If you had seen how he did it, and how she +looked at him, you would have felt that you had done more toward +persuading my daughter to marry the Captain than any other person +about her, myself included. You had deserted her; you had thrown +her back on the one true friend left. Thank you, Randal. In our +best interests, thank you. + +"It is needless to add that I got out of the way, and took Kitty +with me, at the earliest opportunity--and left them by +themselves. + +"At bed-time I went into Catherine's room. Our interview began +and ended in less than a minute. It was useless to ask if the +Captain had proposed marriage; her agitation sufficiently +informed me of what had happened. My one question was: 'Dearest +Catherine, have you said Yes?' She turned shockingly pale, and +answered: 'I have not said No.' Could anything be more +encouraging? God bless you; we shall meet at the wedding." + + + +Randal laid down the letter and filled his pipe again. He was not +in the least exasperated; he was only anxious to hear from Mr. +Sarrazin. If Mrs. Presty had seen him at that moment, she would +have said to herself: "I forgot the wretch was a smoker." + +In half an hour more the door was opened by Malcolm, and Mr. +Sarrazin in person answered his friend. + +"There are no such incorrigible gossips," he said, "as men in the +smoking-room of a club. Those popular newspapers began the +mischief, and the editor of one of them completed it. How he got +his information I am not able to say. The small-talk turned on +that report about the charming widow; and the editor +congratulated himself on the delicacy of his conduct. 'When the +paragraph reached me,' he said, 'the writer mentioned that Mrs. +Norman was that well-known lady, the divorced Mrs. Herbert +Linley. I thought this rather too bad, and I cut it out.' Your +brother appears to have been present--but he seldom goes to the +club, and none of the members knew him even by sight. Shall I +give you a light? Your pipe's out." + +Randal's feelings, at that moment, were not within reach of the +comforting influence of tobacco. + +"Do you think your brother has gone to Sydenham?" Mr. Sarrazin +asked. + +Randal answered: "I haven't a doubt of it now." + + + +Chapter XLIII. + + +Know Your Own Mind. + + +The garden of the hotel at Sydenham had originally belonged to a +private house. Of great extent, it had been laid out in excellent +taste. Flower-beds and lawns, a handsome fountain, seats shaded +by groups of fine trees at their full growth, completed the +pastoral charm of the place. A winding path led across the garden +from the back of the house. It had been continued by the +speculator who purchased the property, until it reached a road at +the extremity of the grounds which communicated with the Crystal +Palace. Visitors to the hotel had such pleasant associations with +the garden that many of them returned at future opportunities +instead of trying the attraction of some other place. Various +tastes and different ages found their wishes equally consulted +here. Children rejoiced in the finest playground they had ever +seen. Remote walks, secluded among shrubberies, invited persons +of reserved disposition who came as strangers, and as strangers +desired to remain. The fountain and the lawn collected sociable +visitors, who were always ready to make acquaintance with each +other. Even the amateur artist could take liberties with Nature, +and find the accommodating limits of the garden sufficient for +his purpose. Trees in the foreground sat to him for likenesses +that were never recognized; and hills submitted to unprovoked +familiarities, on behalf of brushes which were not daunted by +distance. + +On the day after the dinner which had so deplorably failed, in +respect of one of the guests invited, to fulfill Catherine's +anticipations, there was a festival at the Palace. It had proved +so generally attractive to the guests at the hotel that the +grounds were almost deserted. + +As the sun declined, on a lovely summer evening, the few invalids +feebly wandering about the flower-beds, or resting under the +trees, began to return to the house in dread of the dew. +Catherine and her child, with the nursemaid in attendance, were +left alone in the garden. Kitty found her mother, as she openly +declared, "not such good company as usual." Since the day when +her grandmother had said the fatal words which checked all +further allusion to her father, the child had shown a disposition +to complain, if she was not constantly amused. She complained of +Mrs. Presty now. + +"I think grandmamma might have taken me to the Crystal Palace," +she said. + +"My dear, your grandmamma has friends with her--ladies and +gentlemen who don't care to be troubled with a child." + +Kitty received this information in a very unamiable spirit. "I +hate ladies and gentlemen!" she said. + +"Even Captain Bennydeck?" her mother asked. + +"No; I like my nice Captain. And I like the waiters. They would +take me to the Crystal Palace--only they're always busy. I wish +it was bedtime; I don't know what to do with myself." + +"Take a little walk with Susan." + +"Where shall I go?" + +Catherine looked toward the gate which opened on the road, and +proposed a visit to the old man who kept the lodge. + +Kitty shook her head. There was an objection to the old man. "He +asks questions; he wants to know how I get on with my sums. He's +proud of his summing; and he finds me out when I'm wrong. I don't +like the lodge-keeper." + +Catherine looked the other way, toward the house. The pleasant +fall of water in the basin of the distant fountain was just +audible. "Go and feed the gold-fishes," she suggested. + +This was a prospect of amusement which at once raised Kitty's +spirits. "That's the thing!" she cried, and ran off to the +fountain, with the nursemaid after her. + +Catherine seated herself under the trees, and watched in solitude +the decline of the sun in a cloudless sky. The memory of the +happy years of her marriage had never been so sadly and +persistently present to her mind as at this time, when the choice +of another married life waited her decision to become an +accomplished fact. Remembrances of the past, which she had such +bitter reason to regret, and forebodings of the future, in which +she was more than half inclined to believe, oppressed her at one +and the same moment. She thought of the different circumstances, +so widely separated by time, under which Herbert (years ago) and +Bennydeck (twenty-four hours since) had each owned his love, and +pleaded for an indulgent hearing. Her mind contrasted the +dissimilar results. + +Pressed by the faithless man who had so cruelly wronged her in +after-years, she only wondered why he had waited so long before h +e asked her to marry him. Addressed with equal ardor by that +other man, whose age, whose character, whose modest devotion +offered her every assurance of happiness that a woman could +desire, she had struggled against herself, and had begged him to +give her a day to consider. That day was now drawing to an end. +As she watched the setting sun, the phantom of her guilty husband +darkened the heavenly light; imbittered the distrust of herself +which made her afraid to say Yes; and left her helpless before +the hesitation which prevented her from saying No. + +The figure of a man appeared on the lonely path that led to the +lodge gate. + +Impulsively she rose from her seat as he advanced. She sat down +again. After that first act of indecision, the flutter of her +spirits abated; she was able to think. + +To avoid him, after he had spared her at her own request, would +have been an act of ingratitude: to receive him was to place +herself once more in the false position of a woman too undecided +to know her own mind. Forced to choose between these +alternatives, her true regard for Bennydeck forbade her to think +of herself, and encouraged her to wait for him. As he came +nearer, she saw anxiety in his face and observed an open letter +in his hand. He smiled as he approached her, and asked leave to +take a chair at her side. At the same time, when he perceived +that she had noticed his letter, he put it away hurriedly in his +pocket. + +"I hope nothing has happened to annoy you," she said. + +He smiled again; and asked if she was thinking of his letter. "It +is only a report," he added, "from my second in command, whom I +have left in charge of my Home. He is an excellent man; but I am +afraid his temper is not proof against the ingratitude which we +sometimes meet with. He doesn't yet make allowances for what even +the best natures suffer, under the deteriorating influence of +self-distrust and despair. No, I am not anxious about the results +of this case. I forget all my anxieties (except one) when I am +with you." + +His eyes told her that he was about to return to the one subject +that she dreaded. She tried--as women will try, in the little +emergencies of their lives--to gain time. + +"I am interested about your Home," she said: "I want to know what +sort of place it is. Is the discipline very severe?" + +"There is no discipline," he answered warmly. "My one object is +to be a friend to my friendless fellow-creatures; and my one way +of governing them is to follow the teaching of the Sermon on the +Mount. Whatever else I may remind them of, when they come to me, +I am determined not to remind them of a prison. For this +reason--though I pity the hardened wanderers of the streets, I +don't open my doors to them. Many a refuge, in which discipline +is inevitable, is open to these poor sinners already. My welcome +is offered to penitents and sufferers of another kind--who have +fallen from positions in life, in which the sense of honor has +been cultivated; whose despair is associated with remembrances +which I may so encourage, with the New Testament to help me, as +to lead them back to the religious influences under which their +purer and happier lives may have been passed. Here and there I +meet with disappointments. But I persist in my system of trusting +them as freely as if they were my own children; and, for the most +part, they justify my confidence in them. On the day--if it ever +comes--when I find discipline necessary, I shall suffer my +disappointment and close my doors." + +"Is your house open," Catherine asked, "to men and women alike?" + +He was eager to speak with her on a subject more interesting to +him even than his Home. Answering her question, in this frame of +mind, his thoughts wandered; he drew lines absently with his +walking-stick on the soft earth under the trees. + +"The means at my disposal," he said, "are limited. I have been +obliged to choose between the men and the women." + +"And you have chosen women?" + +"Yes." + +"Why?" + +"Because a lost woman is a more friendless creature than a lost +man." + +"Do they come to you? or do you look for them?" + +"They mostly come to me. There is one young woman, however, now +waiting to see me, whom I have been looking for. I am deeply +interested in her." + +"Is it her beauty that interests you?" + +"I have not seen her since she was a child. She is the daughter +of an old friend of mine, who died many years ago." + +"And with that claim on you, you keep her waiting?" + +"Yes." + +He let his stick drop on the ground and looked at Catherine; but +he offered no explanation of his strange conduct. She was a +little disappointed. "You have been some time away from your +Home," she said; still searching for his reasons. "When do you go +back?" + +"I go back," he answered, "when I know whether I may thank God +for being the happiest man living." + +They were both silent. + + + +Chapter XLIV. + + +Think of Consequences. + + +Catherine listened to the fall of water in the basin of the +fountain. She was conscious of a faint hope--a hope unworthy of +her--that Kitty might get weary of the gold-fishes, and might +interrupt them. No such thing happened; no stranger appeared on +the path which wound through the garden. She was alone with him. +The influences of the still and fragrant summer evening were +influences which breathed of love. + +"Have you thought of me since yesterday?" he asked gently. + +She owned that she had thought of him. + +"Is there no hope that your heart will ever incline toward me?" + +"I daren't consult my heart. If I had only to consider my own +feelings--" She stopped. + +"What else have you to consider?" + +"My past life--how I have suffered, and what I have to repent +of." + +"Has your married life not been a happy one?" he asked. + +"Not a happy one--in the end," she answered. + +"Through no fault of yours, I am sure?" + +"Through no fault of mine, certainly." + +"And yet you said just now that you had something to repent of?" + +"I was not thinking of my husband, Captain Bennydeck, when I said +that. If I have injured any person, the person is myself." + +She was thinking of that fatal concession to the advice of her +mother, and to the interests of her child, which placed her in a +false position toward the honest man who loved her and trusted +her. If he had been less innocent in the ways of the world, and +not so devotedly fond of her, he might, little by little, have +persuaded Catherine to run the risk of shocking him by a +confession of the truth. As it was, his confidence in her raised +him high above the reach of suspicions which might have occurred +to other men. He saw her turn pale; he saw distress in her face, +which he interpreted as a silent reproach to him for the +questions he had asked. + +"I hope you will forgive me?" he said simply. + +She was astonished. "What have I to forgive?" + +"My want of delicacy." + +"Oh, Captain Bennydeck, you speak of one of your great merits as +if it were a fault! Over and over again I have noticed your +delicacy, and admired it." + +He was too deeply in earnest to abandon his doubts of himself. + +"I have ignorantly led you to think of your sorrows," he said; +"sorrows that I cannot console. I don't deserve to be forgiven. +May I make the one excuse in my power? May I speak of myself?" + +She told him by a gesture that he had made a needless request. + +"The life I have led," he resumed, "accounts, perhaps, in some +degree, for what is deficient in me. At school, I was not a +popular boy; I only made one friend, and he has long since been +numbered with the dead. Of my life at college, and afterward in +London, I dare not speak to you; I look back at it with horror. +My school-friend decided my choice of a profession; he went into +the navy. After a while, not knowing what else to do, I followed +his example. I liked the life--I may say the sea saved me. For +years, I was never on shore for more than a few weeks at a time. +I saw nothing of society; I was hardly ever in the company of +ladies. The next change in my life associated me with an Arctic +expedition. God forbid I should tell you of what men go through +who are lost in the regions of eternal ice! Let me only say I was +preserved--miraculously preserved--to profit by that dreadful +experience. It made a new man of me; it altered me ( I hope for +the better) into what I am now. Oh, I feel that I ought to have +kept my secret yesterday--I mean my daring to love you. I should +have waited till you knew more of me; till my conduct pleased you +perhaps, and spoke for me. You won't laugh, I am sure, if I +confess (at my age!) that I am inexperienced. Never till I met +you have I known what true love is--and this at forty years old. +How some people would laugh! I own it seems melancholy to me." + +"No; not melancholy." + +Her voice trembled. Agitation, which it was not a pain but a +luxury to feel, was gently taking possession of her. Where +another man might have seen that her tenderness was getting the +better of her discretion, and might have presumed on the +discovery, this man, innocently blind to his own interests, never +even attempted to take advantage of her. No more certain way +could have been devised, by the most artful lover, of touching +the heart of a generous woman, and making it his own. The +influence exerted over Catherine by the virtues of Bennydeck's +character--his unaffected kindness, his manly sympathy, his +religious convictions so deeply felt, so modestly restrained from +claiming notice--had been steadily increasing in the intimacy of +daily intercourse. Catherine had never felt his ascendancy over +her as strongly as she felt it now. By fine degrees, the warning +remembrances which had hitherto made her hesitate lost their hold +on her memory. Hardly conscious herself of what she was doing, +she began to search his feelings in his own presence. Such love +as his had been unknown in her experience; the luxury of looking +into it, and sounding it to its inmost depths, was more than the +woman's nature could resist. + +"I think you hardly do yourself justice," she said. "Surely you +don't regret having felt for me so truly, when I told you +yesterday that my old friend had deserted me?" + +"No, indeed!" + +"Do you like to remember that you showed no jealous curiosity to +know who my friend was?" + +"I should have been ashamed of myself if I had asked the +question." + +"And did you believe that I had a good motive--a motive which you +might yourself have appreciated--for not telling you the name of +that friend?" + +"Is he some one whom I know?" + +"Ought you to ask me that, after what I have just said?" + +"Pray forgive me! I spoke without thinking." + +"I can hardly believe it, when I remember how you spoke to me +yesterday. I could never have supposed, before we became +acquainted with each other, that it was in the nature of a man to +understand me so perfectly, to be so gentle and so considerate in +feeling for my distress. You confused me a little, I must own, by +what you said afterward. But I am not sure that ought to be +severe in blaming you. Sympathy--I mean such sympathy as +yours--sometimes says more than discretion can always approve. +Have you not found it so yourself?" + +"I have found it so with you." + +"And perhaps I have shown a little too plainly how dependent I am +on you--how dreadful it would be to me if I lost you too as a +friend?" + +She blushed as she said it. When the words had escaped her, she +felt that they might bear another meaning than the simple meaning +which she had attached to them. He took her hand; his doubts of +himself, his needless fear of offending her, restrained him no +longer. + +"You can never lose me," he said, "if you will only let me be the +nearest friend that a woman can have. Bear with me, dearest! I +ask for so much; I have so little to offer in return. I dream of +a life with you which is perhaps too perfectly happy to be +enjoyed on earth. And yet, I cannot resign my delusion. Must my +poor heart always long for happiness which is beyond my reach? If +an overruling Providence guides our course through this world, +may we not sometimes hope for happier ends than our mortal eyes +can see?" + +He waited a moment--and sighed--and dropped her hand. She hid her +face; she knew what it would tell him: she was ashamed to let him +see it. + +"I didn't mean to distress you," he said sadly. + +She let him see her face. For a moment only, she looked at +him--and then let silence tell him the rest. + +His arms closed round her. Slowly, the glory of the sun faded +from the heavens, and the soft summer twilight fell over the +earth. "I can't speak," he whispered; "my happiness is too much +for me." + +"Are you sure of your happiness?" she asked. + +"Could I think as I am thinking now, if I were not sure of it?" + +"Are you thinking of _me?_" + +"Of you--and of all that you will be to me in the future. Oh, my +angel, if God grants us many years to come, what a perfect life I +see!" + +"Tell me--what do you see?" + +"I see a husband and wife who are all in all to each other. If +friends come to us, we are glad to bid them welcome; but we are +always happiest by ourselves." + +"Do we live in retirement?" + +"We live where you like best to live. Shall it be in the +country?" + +"Yes! yes! You have spoken of the sea as you might have spoken of +your best friend--we will be near the sea. But I must not keep +you selfishly all to myself. I must remember how good you have +been to poor creatures who don't feel our happiness, and who need +your kindness. Perhaps I might help you? Do you doubt it?" + +"I only doubt whether I ought to let you see what I have seen; I +am only afraid of the risk of making you unhappy. You tempt me to +run the risk. The help of a woman--and of such a woman as you +are--is the one thing I have wanted. Your influence would succeed +where my influence has often failed. How good, how thoughtful you +would be!" + +"I only want to be worthy of you," she said, humbly. "When may I +see your Home?" + +He drew her closer to him: tenderly and timidly he kissed her for +the first time. "It rests with you," he answered. "When will you +be my wife?" + +She hesitated; he felt her trembling. "Is there any obstacle?" he +asked. + +Before she could reply, Kitty's voice was heard calling to her +mother--Kitty ran up to them. + +Catherine turned cold as the child caught her by the hand, +eagerly claiming her attention. All that she should have +remembered, all that she had forgotten in a few bright moments of +illusion, rose in judgment against her, and struck her mind +prostrate in an instant, when she felt Kitty's touch. + +Bennydeck saw the change. Was it possible that the child's sudden +appearance had startled her? Kitty had something to say, and said +it before he could speak. + +"Mamma, I want to go where the other children are going. Susan's +gone to her supper. You take me." + +Her mother was not even listening. Kitty turned impatiently to +Bennydeck. "Why won't mamma speak to me?" she asked. He quieted +her by a word. "You shall go with me." His anxiety about +Catherine was more than he could endure. "Pray let me take you +back to the house," he said. "I am afraid you are not well." + +"I shall be better directly. Do me a kindness--take the child!" + +She spoke faintly and vacantly. Bennydeck hesitated. She lifted +her trembling hands in entreaty. "I beg you will leave me!" Her +voice, her manner, made it impossible to disobey. He turned +resignedly to Kitty and asked which way she wanted to go. The +child pointed down the path to one of the towers of the Crystal +Palace, visible in the distance. "The governess has taken the +others to see the company go away," she said; "I want to go too." + +Bennydeck looked back before he lost sight of Catherine. + +She remained seated, in the attitude in which he had left her. At +the further end of the path which led to the hotel, he thought he +saw a figure in the twilight, approaching from the house. There +would be help near, if Catherine wanted it. + +His uneasy mind was in some degree relieved, as he and Kitty left +the garden together. + + + +Chapter XLV. + + +Love Your Enemies. + + +She tried to think of Bennydeck. + +Her eyes followed him as long as he was in sight, but her +thoughts wandered. To look at him now was to look at the little +companion walking by his side. Still, the child reminded her of +the living father; still, the child innocently tortured her with +the consciousness of deceit. The faithless man from whom the law +had released her, possessed himself of her thoughts, in spite of +the law. He, and he only, was the visionary companion of her +solitude when she was left by herself. + +Did he remind her of the sin that he had committed?--of the +insult that he had inflicted on the woman whom he had vowed to +love and cherish? No! he recalled to her the years of love that +she had passed by his side; he upbraided her with the happiness +which she had owed to him, in the prime and glory of her life. +Woman! set _that_ against the wrong which I have done to you. You +have the right to condemn me, and Society has the right to +condemn me--but I am your child's father still. Forget me if you +can! + +All thought will bear the test of solitude, excepting only the +thought that finds its origin in hopeless self-reproach. The soft +mystery of twilight, the solemn silence of the slowly-coming +night, daunted Catherine in that lonely place. She rose to return +to light and human beings. As she set her face toward the house, +a discovery confronted her. She was not alone. + +A woman was standing on the path, apparently looking at her. + +In the dim light, and at the distance between them, recognition +of the woman was impossible. She neither moved nor spoke. +Strained to their utmost point of tension, Catherine's nerves +quivered at the sight of that shadowy solitary figure. She +dropped back on the seat. In tones that trembled she said: "Who +are you? What do you want?" + +The voice that answered was, like her own voice, faint with fear. +It said: "I want a word with you." + +Moving slowly forward--stopping--moving onward again--hesitating +again--the woman at last approached. There was light enough left +to reveal her face, now that she was near. It was the face of +Sydney Westerfield. + +The survival of childhood, in the mature human being, betrays +itself most readily in the sex that bears children. The chances +and changes of life show the child's mobility of emotion +constantly associating itself with the passions of the woman. At +the moment of recognition the troubled mind of Catherine was +instantly steadied, under the influence of that coarsest sense +which levels us with the animals--the sense of anger. + +"I am amazed at your audacity," she said. + +There was no resentment--there was only patient submission in +Sydney's reply. + +"Twice I have approached the house in which you are living; and +twice my courage has failed me. I have gone away again--I have +walked, I don't know where, I don't know how far. Shame and fear +seemed to be insensible to fatigue. This is my third attempt. If +I was a little nearer to you, I think you would see what the +effort has cost me. I have not much to say. May I ask you to hear +me?" + +"You have taken me by surprise, Miss Westerfield. You have no +right to do that; I refuse to hear you." + +"Try, madam, to bear in mind that no unhappy creature, in my +place, would expose herself to your anger and contempt without a +serious reason. Will you think again?" + +"No!" + +Sydney turned to go away--and suddenly stopped. + +Another person was advancing from the hotel; an interruption, a +trivial domestic interruption, presented itself. The nursemaid +had missed the child, and had come into the garden to see if she +was with her mother. + +"Where is Miss Kitty, ma'am?" the girl asked. + +Her mistress told her what had happened, and sent her to the +Palace to relieve Captain Bennydeck of the charge that he had +undertaken. Susan listened, looking at Sydney and recognizing the +familiar face. As the girl moved away, Sydney spoke to her. + +"I hope little Kitty is well and happy?" + +The mother does not live who could have resisted the tone in +which that question was put. The broken heart, the love for the +child that still lived in it, spoke in accents that even touched +the servant. She came back; remembering the happy days when the +governess had won their hearts at Mount Morven, and, for a moment +at least, remembering nothing else. + +"Quite well and happy, miss, thank you," Susan said. + +As she hurried away on her errand, she saw her mistress beckon to +Sydney to return, and place a chair for her. The nursemaid was +not near enough to hear what followed. + +"Miss Westerfield, will you forget what I said just now?" With +those words, Catherine pointed to the chair. "I am ready to hear +you," she resumed--"but I have something to ask first. Does what +you wish to say to me relate only to yourself?" + +"It relates to another person, as well as to myself." + +That reply, and the inference to which it led, tried Catherine's +resolution to preserve her self-control, as nothing had tried it +yet. + +"If that other person," she began, "means Mr. Herbert Linley--" + +Sydney interrupted her, in words which she was entirely +unprepared to hear. + +"I shall never see Mr. Herbert Linley again." + +"Has he deserted you?" + +"No. It is _I_ who have left _him._" + +"You!" + +The emphasis laid on that one word forced Sydney to assert +herself for the first time. + +"If I had not left him of my own free will," she said, "what else +would excuse me for venturing to come here?" + +Catherine's sense of justice felt the force of that reply. At the +same time her sense of injury set its own construction on +Sydney's motive. "Has his cruelty driven you away from him?" she +asked. + +"If he has been cruel to me," Sydney answered, "do you think I +should have come here to complain of it to You? Do me the justice +to believe that I am not capable of such self-degradation as +that. I have nothing to complain of." + +"And yet you have left him?" + +"He has been all that is kind and considerate: he has done +everything that a man in his unhappy position could do to set my +mind at ease. And yet I have left him. Oh, I claim no merit for +my repentance, bitterly as I feel it! I might not have had the +courage to leave him--if he had loved me as he once loved you." + +"Miss Westerfield, you are the last person living who ought to +allude to my married life." + +"You may perhaps pardon the allusion, madam, when you have heard +what I have still to say. I owe it to Mr. Herbert Linley, if not +to you, to confess that his life with me has _not_ been a life of +happiness. He has tried, compassionately tried, to keep his +secret sorrow from discovery, and he has failed. I had long +suspected the truth; but I only saw it in his face when he found +the book you left behind you at the hotel. Your image has, from +first to last, been the one living image in his guilty heart. I +am the miserable victim of a man's passing fancy. You have been, +you are still, the one object of a husband's love. Ask your own +heart if the woman lives who can say to you what I have +said--unless she knew it to be true." + +Catherine's head sank on her bosom; her helpless hands lay +trembling on her lap. Overpowered by the confession which she had +just heard--a confession which had followed closely on the +thoughts inspired by the appearance of the child--her agitation +was beyond control; her mind was unequal to the effort of +decision. The woman who had been wronged--who had the right to +judge for herself, and to speak for herself--was the silent woman +of the two! + +It was not quite dark yet. Sydney could see as well as hear. + +For the first time since the beginning of the interview, she +allowed the impulse of the moment to lead her astray. In her +eagerness to complete the act of atonement, she failed to +appreciate the severity of the struggle that was passing in +Catherine's mind. She alluded again to Herbert Linley, and she +spoke too soon. + +"Will you let him ask your pardon?" she said. "He expects no +more." + +Catherine's spirit was roused in an instant. "He expects too +much!" she answered, sternly. "Is he here by your connivance? Is +he, too, waiting to take me by surprise?" + +"I am incapable, madam, of taking such a liberty with you as +that; I may perhaps have hoped to be able to tell him, by +writing, of a different reception--" She checked herself. "I beg +your pardon, if I have ventured to hope. I dare not ask you to +alter your opinion--" + +"Do you dare to look the truth in the face?" Catherine +interposed. "Do you remember what sacred ties that man has +broken? what memories he has profaned? what years of faithful +love he has cast from him? Must I tell you how he poisoned his +wife's mind with doubts of his truth and despair of his honor, +when he basely deserted her? You talk of your repentance. Does +your repentance forget that he would still have been my blameless +husband but for you?" + +Sydney silently submitted to reproach, silently endured the shame +that finds no excuse for itself. + +Catherine looked at her and relented. The noble nature which +could stoop to anger, but never sink to the lower depths of +malice and persecution, restrained itself and made amends. "I say +it in no unkindness to you," she resumed. "But when you ask me to +forgive, consider what you ask me to forget. It will only +distress us both if we remain longer together," she continued, +rising as she spoke. "Perhaps you will believe that I mean well, +when I ask if there is anything I can do for you?" + +"Nothing!" + +All the desolation of the lost woman told its terrible tale in +that one word. Invited to rest herself in the hotel, she asked +leave to remain where she was; the mere effort of rising was too +much for her now. Catherine said the parting words kindly. "I +believe in your good intentions; I believe in your repentance." + +"Believe in my punishment!" After that reply, no more was said. + +Behind the trees that closed the view at the further extremity of +the lawn the moon was rising. As the two women lost sight of each +other, the new light, pure and beautiful, began to dawn over the +garden. + + + +Chapter XLVI. + + +Nil Desperandum. + + +No horror of her solitude, no melancholy recollections, no dread +of the future disturbed Sydney's mind. The one sense left in her +was the sense of fatigue. Vacantly, mechanically, the girl rested +as a tired animal might have rested. She saw nothing, heard +nothing; the one feeling of which she was conscious was a dull +aching in every limb. The moon climbed the heavens, brightened +the topmost leaves of the trees, found the gloom in which Sydney +was hidden, and cheered it tenderly with radiant light. She was +too weary to sleep, too weary even to shade her face when the +moonbeams touched it. While the light still strengthened, while +the slow minutes still followed each other unheeded, the one +influence that could rouse Sydney found her at last--set her +faint heart throbbing--called her prostrate spirit to life again. +She heard a glad cry of recognition in a child's voice: + +"Oh, Sydney, dear, is it you?" + +In another instant her little pupil and playfellow of former days +was in her arms. + +"My darling, how did you come here?" + +Susan answered the question. "We are on our way back from the +Palace, miss. I am afraid," she said, timidly, "that we ought to +go in." + +Silently resigned, Sydney tried to release the child. Kitty clung +to her and kissed her; Kitty set the nurse at defiance. "Do you +think I am going to leave Syd now I have found her? Susan, I am +astonished at you!" + +Susan gave way. Where the nature is gentle, kindness and delicacy +go hand-in-hand together, undisturbed by the social +irregularities which beset the roadway of life. The nursemaid +drew back out of hearing. Kitty's first questions followed each +other in breathless succession. Some of them proved to be hard, +indeed, to answer truly, and without reserve. She inquired if +Sydney had seen her mother, and then she was eager to know why +Sydney had been left in the garden alone. + +"Why haven't you gone back to the house with mamma?" she asked. + +"Don't ask me, dear," was all that Sydney could say. Kitty drew +the inevitable conclusion: "Have you and mamma quarreled?" + +"Oh, no!" + +"Then come indoors with me." + +"Wait a little, Kitty, and tell me something about yourself. How +do you get on with your lessons?" + +"You dear foolish governess, do you expect me to learn my +lessons, when I haven't got you to teach me? Where have you been +all this long while? _I_ wouldn't have gone away and left _you!_" +She paused; her eager eyes studied Sydney's face with the +unrestrained curiosity of a child. "Is it the moonlight that +makes you look pale and wretched?" she said. "Or are you really +unhappy? Tell me, Syd, do you ever sing any of those songs that I +taught you, when you first came to us?" + +"Never, dear!" + +"Have you anybody to go out walking with you and running races +with you, as I did?" + +"No, my sweet! Those days have gone by forever." + +Kitty laid her head sadly on Sydney's bosom. "It's not the +moonlight," she said; "shall I tell you a secret? Sometimes I am +not happy either. Poor papa is dead. He always liked you--I'm +sure you are sorry for him." + +Astonishment held Sydney speechless. Before she could ask who had +so cruelly deceived the child, and for what purpose, the +nursemaid, standing behind the chair, warned her to be silent by +a touch. + +"I think we are all unhappy now," Kitty went on, still following +her own little train of thought. "Mamma isn't like what she used +to be. And even my nice Captain hasn't a word to say to me. He +wouldn't come back with us; he said he would go back by himself." + +Another allusion which took Sydney by surprise! She asked who the +Captain was. Kitty started as if the question shocked her. "Oh +dear, dear, this is what comes of your going away and leaving us! +You don't know Captain Bennydeck." + +The name of her father's correspondent! The name which she +vaguely remembered to have heard in her childhood! "Where did you +first meet with him?" she inquired. + +"At the seaside, dear!" + +"Do you mean at Sandyseal?" + +"Yes. Mamma liked him--and grandmamma liked him (which is +wonderful)--and I gave him a kiss. Promise me not to tell! My +nice Captain is going to be my new papa." + +Was there any possible connection between what Kitty had just +said, and what the poor child had been deluded into believing +when she spoke of her father? Even Susan seemed to be in the +secret of this strange second marriage! She interfered with a +sharp reproof. "You mustn't talk in that way, Miss Kitty. Please +put her off your lap, Miss Westerfield; we have been here too +long already." + +Kitty proposed a compromise; "I'll go," she said, "if Syd will +come with me." + +"I'm sorry, my darling, to disappoint you." + +Kitty refused to believe it. "You couldn't disappoint me if you +tried," she said boldly. + +"Indeed, indeed, I must go away. Oh, Kitty, try to bear it as I +do!" + +Entreaties were useless; the child refused to hear of another +parting. "I want to make you and mamma friends again. Don't break +my heart, Sydney! Come home with me, and teach me, and play with +me, and love me!" + +She pulled desperately at Sydney's dress; she called to Susan to +help her. With tears in her eyes, the girl did her best to help +them both. "Miss Westerfield will wait here," she said to Kitty, +"while you speak to your mamma.--Say Yes!" she whispered to +Sydney; "it's our only chance." + +The child instantly exacted a promise. In the earnestness of her +love she even dictated the words. "Say it after me, as I used to +say my lessons," she insisted. "Say, 'Kitty, I promise to wait +for you.'" + +Who that loved her could have refused to say it! In one form or +another, the horrid necessity for deceit had followed, and was +still following, that first, worst act of falsehood--the +elopement from Mount Morven. + +Kitty was now as eager to go as she had been hitherto resolute to +remain. She called for Susan to follow her, and ran to the hotel. + +"My mistress won't let her come back--you can leave the garden +that way." The maid pointed along the path to the left and +hurried after the child. + +They were gone--and Sydney was alone again. + +At the parting with Kitty, the measure of her endurance was full. +Not even the farewell at Mount Morven had tried her by an ordeal +so cruel as this. No kind woman was willing to receive her and +employ her, now. The one creature left who loved her was the +faithful little friend whom she must never see again. "I am still +innocent to that child," she thought--"and I am parted from her +forever!" + +She rose to leave the garden. + +A farewell look at the last place in which she had seen Kitty +tempted her to indulge in a moment of delay. Her eyes rested on +the turn in the path at which she had lost sight of the active +little figure hastening away to plead her cause. Even in absence, +the child was Sydney's good angel still. As she turned away to +follow the path that had been shown to her, the relief of tears c +ame at last. It cooled her burning head; it comforted her aching +heart. She tried to walk on. The tears blinded her--she strayed +from the path--she would have fallen but for a hand that caught +her, and held her up. A man's voice, firm and deep and kind, +quieted her first wild feeling of terror. "My child, you are not +fit to be by yourself. Let me take care of you--let me comfort +you, if I can." + +He carried her back to the seat that she had left, and waited by +her in merciful silence. + +"You are very young to feel such bitter sorrow," he said, when +she was composed again. "I don't ask what your sorrow is; I only +want to know how I can help you." + +"Nobody can help me." + +"Can I take you back to your friends?" + +"I have no friends." + +"Pardon me, you have one friend at least--you have me." + +"You? A stranger?" + +"No human creature who needs my sympathy is a stranger." + +She turned toward him for the first time. In her new position, +she was clearly visible in the light. He looked at her +attentively. "I have seen you somewhere," he said, "before now." + +She had not noticed him when they had passed each other at +Sandyseal. "I think you must be mistaken," she answered. "May I +thank you for your kindness? and may I hope to be excused if I +say good-night?" + +He detained her. "Are you sure that you are well enough to go +away by yourself?" he asked anxiously. + +"I am quite sure!" + +He still detained her. His memory of that first meeting at the +seaside hotel reminded him that he had seen her in the company of +a man. At their second meeting, she was alone, and in tears. Sad +experience led him to form his own conclusions. "If you won't let +me take care of you," he said, "will you consider if I can be of +any use to you, and will you call at that address?" He gave her +his card. She took it without looking at it; she was confused; +she hardly knew what to say. "Do you doubt me?" he asked--sadly, +not angrily. + +"Oh, how can I do that! I doubt myself; I am not worthy of the +interest you feel in me." + +"That is a sad thing to say," he answered. "Let me try to give +you confidence in yourself. Do you go to London when you leave +this place?" + +"Yes." + +"To-morrow," he resumed, "I am going to see another poor girl who +is alone in the world like you. If I tell you where she lives, +will you ask her if I am a person to be trusted?" + +He had taken a letter from his pocket, while he was speaking; and +he now tore off a part of the second leaf, and gave it to her. "I +have only lately," he said, "received the address from a friend." + +As he offered that explanation, the shrill sound of a child's +voice, raised in anger and entreaty, reached their ears from the +neighborhood of the hotel. Faithful little Kitty had made her +escape, determined to return to Sydney had been overtaken by the +maid--and had been carried back in Susan's arms to the house. +Sydney imagined that she was not perhaps alone in recognizing the +voice. The stranger who had been so kind to her did certainly +start and look round. + +The stillness of the night was disturbed no more. The man turned +again to the person who had so strongly interested him. The +person was gone. + +In fear of being followed, Sydney hurried to the railway station. +By the light in the carriage she looked for the first time at the +fragment of the letter and the card. + +The stranger had presented her with her own address! And, when +she looked at the card, the name was Bennydeck! + + + +Chapter XLVII. + + +Better Do It Than Wish It Done. + + +More than once, on one and the same day, the Captain had been +guilty of a weakness which would have taken his oldest friends by +surprise, if they had seen him at the moment. He hesitated. + +A man who has commanded ships and has risked his life in the +regions of the frozen deep, is a man formed by nature and taught +by habit to meet emergency face to face, to see his course +straight before him, and to take it, lead him where it may. But +nature and habit, formidable forces as they are, find their +master when they encounter the passion of Love. + +At once perplexed and distressed by that startling change in +Catherine which he had observed when her child approached her, +Bennydeck's customary firmness failed him, when the course of +conduct toward his betrothed wife which it might be most becoming +to follow presented itself to him as a problem to be solved. When +Kitty asked him to accompany her nursemaid and herself on their +return to the hotel, he had refused because he felt reluctant to +intrude himself on Catherine's notice, until she was ready to +admit him to her confidence of her own free will. Left alone, he +began to doubt whether delicacy did really require him to make +the sacrifice which he had contemplated not five minutes since. +It was surely possible that Catherine might be waiting to see +him, and might then offer the explanation which would prove to be +equally a relief on both sides. He was on his way to the hotel +when he met with Sydney Westerfield. + +To see a woman in the sorest need of all that kindness and +consideration could offer, and to leave her as helpless as he had +found her, would have been an act of brutal indifference +revolting to any man possessed of even ordinary sensibility. The +Captain had only followed his natural impulses, and had only said +and done what, in nearly similar cases, he had said and done on +other occasions. + +Left by himself, he advanced a few steps mechanically on the way +by which Sydney had escaped him--and then stopped. Was there any +sufficient reason for his following her, and intruding himself on +her notice? She had recovered, she was in possession of his +address, she had been referred to a person who could answer for +his good intentions; all that it was his duty to do, had been +done already. He turned back again, in the direction of the +hotel. + +Hesitating once more, he paused half-way along the corridor which +led to Catherine's sitting-room. Voices reached him from persons +who had entered the house by the front door. He recognized Mrs. +Presty's loud confident tones. She was taking leave of friends, +and was standing with her back toward him. Bennydeck waited, +unobserved, until he saw her enter the sitting-room. No such +explanation as he was in search of could possibly take place in +the presence of Catherine's mother. He returned to the garden. + +Mrs. Presty was in high spirits. She had enjoyed the Festival; +she had taken the lead among the friends who accompanied her to +the Palace; she had ordered everything, and paid for nothing, at +that worst of all bad public dinners in England, the dinner which +pretends to be French. In a buoyant frame of mind, ready for more +enjoyment if she could only find it, what did she see on opening +the sitting-room door? To use the expressive language of the +stage, Catherine was "discovered alone"--with her elbows on the +table, and her face hidden in her hands--the picture of despair. + +Mrs. Presty surveyed the spectacle before her with righteous +indignation visible in every line of her face. The arrangement +which bound her daughter to give Bennydeck his final reply on +that day had been well known to her when she left the hotel in +the morning. The conclusion at which she arrived, on returning at +night, was expressed with Roman brevity and Roman eloquence in +four words: + +"Oh, the poor Captain!" + +Catherine suddenly looked up. + +"I knew it," Mrs. Presty continued, with her sternest emphasis; +"I see what you have done, in your face. You have refused +Bennydeck." + +"God forgive me, I have been wicked enough to accept him!" + +Hearing this, some mothers might have made apologies; and other +mothers might have asked what that penitential reply could +possibly mean. Mrs. Presty was no matron of the ordinary type. +She welcomed the good news, without taking the smallest notice of +the expression of self-reproach which had accompanied it. + +"My dear child, accept the congratulations of your fond old +mother. I have never been one of the kissing sort (I mean of +course where women are concerned); but this is an occasion which +justifies something quite out of the common way. Come and kiss +me." + +Catherine took no notice of that outburst of maternal love. + +"I have forgotten everything that I ought to have remembered," +she said. "In my vanity, in my weakness, in my selfish enjoyment +of the passing moment, I have been too supremely happy even to +think of the trials of my past life, and of the false position +in which they have placed me toward a man, whom I ought to be +ashamed to deceive. I have only been recalled to a sense of duty, +I might almost say to a sense of decency, by my poor little child. +If Kitty had not reminded me of her father--" + +Mrs. Presty dropped into a chair: she was really frightened. Her +fat cheeks trembled like a jelly on a dish that is suddenly +moved. + +"Has that man been here?" she asked. + +"What man?" + +"The man who may break off your marriage if he meets with the +Captain. Has Herbert Linley been here?" + +"Certainly not. The one person associated with my troubles whom I +have seen to-day is Sydney Westerfield." + +Mrs. Presty bounced out of her chair. "You--have seen--Sydney +Westerfield?" she repeated with emphatic pauses which expressed +amazement tempered by unbelief. + +"Yes; I have seen her." + +"Where?" + +"In the garden." + +"And spoken to her?" + +"Yes." + +Mrs. Presty raised her eyes to the ceiling. Whether she expected +our old friend "the recording angel" to take down the questions +and answers that had just passed, or whether she was only waiting +to see the hotel that held her daughter collapse under a sense of +moral responsibility, it is not possible to decide. After an +awful pause, the old lady remembered that she had something more +to say--and said it. + +"I make no remark, Catherine; I don't even want to know what you +and Miss Westerfield said to each other. At the same time, as a +matter of convenience to myself, I wish to ascertain whether I +must leave this hotel or not. The same house doesn't hold that +woman and ME. Has she gone?" + +"She has gone." + +Mrs. Presty looked round the room. "And taken Kitty with her?" +she asked. + +"Don't speak of Kitty!" Catherine cried in the greatest distress. +"I have had to keep the poor innocent affectionate child apart +from Miss Westerfield by force. My heart aches when I think of +it." + +"I'm not surprised, Catherine. My granddaughter has been brought +up on the modern system. Children are all little angels--no +punishments--only gentle remonstrance--'Don't be naughty, dear, +because you will make poor mamma unhappy.' And then, mamma +grieves over it and wonders over it, when she finds her little +angel disobedient. What a fatal system of education! All my +success in life; every quality that endeared me to your father +and Mr. Presty; every social charm that has made me the idol of +society, I attribute entirely to judicious correction in early +life, applied freely with the open hand. We will change the +subject. Where is dear Bennydeck? I want to congratulate him on +his approaching marriage." She looked hard at her daughter, and +mentally added: "He'll live to regret it!" + +Catherine knew nothing of the Captain's movements. "Like you," +she told her mother, "I have something to say to him, and I don't +know where he is." + +Mrs. Presty still kept her eyes fixed on her daughter. Nobody, +observing Catherine's face, and judging also by the tone of her +voice, would have supposed that she was alluding to the man whose +irresistible attractions had won her. She looked ill at ease, and +she spoke sadly. + +"You don't seem to be in good spirits, my dear," Mrs. Presty +gently suggested. "No lovers' quarrel already, I hope?" + +"Nothing of the kind." + +"Can I be of any use to you?" + +"You might be of the greatest use. But I know only too well, you +would refuse." + +Thus far, Mrs. Presty had been animated by curiosity. She began +now to feel vaguely alarmed. "After all that I have done for +you," she answered, "I don't think you ought to say that. Why +should I refuse?" + +Catherine hesitated. + +Her mother persisted in pressing her. "Has it anything to do with +Captain Bennydeck?" + +"Yes." + +"What is it?" + +Catherine roused her courage. + +"You know what it is as well as I do," she said. "Captain +Bennydeck believes that I am free to marry him because I am a +widow. You might help me to tell him the truth." + +"What!!!" + +That exclamation of horror and astonishment was loud enough to +have been heard in the garden. If Mrs. Presty's hair had been all +her own, it must have been hair that stood on end. + +Catherine quietly rose. "We won't discuss it," she said, with +resignation. "I knew you would refuse me." She approached the +door. Her mother got up and resolutely stood in the way. "Before +you commit an act of downright madness," Mrs. Presty said, "I +mean to try if I can stop you. Go back to your chair." + +Catherine refused. + +"I know how it will end," she answered; "and the sooner it ends +the better. You will find that I am quite as determined as you +are. A man who loves me as _he_ loves me, is a man whom I refuse +to deceive." + +"Let's have it out plainly," Mrs. Presty insisted. "He believes +your first marriage has been dissolved by death. Do you mean to +tell him that it has been dissolved by Divorce?" + +"I do." + +"What right has he to know it?" + +"A right that is not to be denied. A wife must have no secrets +from her husband." + +Mrs. Presty hit back smartly. + +"You're not his wife yet. Wait till you are married." + +"Never! Who but a wretch would marry an honest man under false +pretenses?" + +"I deny the false pretenses! You talk as if you were an impostor. +Are you, or are you not, the accomplished lady who has charmed +him? Are you, or are you not, the beautiful woman whom he loves? +There isn't a stain on your reputation. In every respect you are +the wife he wants and the wife who is worthy of him. And you are +cruel enough to disturb the poor man about a matter that doesn't +concern him! you are fool enough to raise doubts of you in his +mind, and give him a reproach to cast in your teeth the first +time you do anything that happens to offend him! Any woman--I +don't care who she may be--might envy the home that's waiting for +you and your child, if you're wise enough to hold your tongue. +Upon my word, Catherine, I am ashamed of you. Have you no +principles?" + +She really meant it! The purely selfish considerations which she +urged on her daughter were so many undeniable virtues in Mrs. +Presty's estimation. She took the highest moral ground, and stood +up and crowed on it, with a pride in her own principles which the +Primate of all England might have envied. + +But Catherine's rare resolution held as firm as ever. She got a +little nearer to the door. "Good-night, mamma," was the only +reply she made. + +"Is that all you have to say to me?" + +"I am tired, and I must rest. Please let me go." + +Mrs. Presty threw open the door with a bang. + +"You refuse to take my advice?" she said. "Oh, very well, have +your own way! You are sure to prosper in the end. These are the +days of exhibitions and gold medals. If there is ever an +exhibition of idiots at large, I know who might win the prize." + +Catherine was accustomed to preserve her respect for her mother +under difficulties; but this was far more than her sense of +filial duty could successfully endure. + +"I only wish I had never taken your advice," she answered. "Many +a miserable moment would have been spared me, if I had always +done what I am doing now. You have been the evil genius of my +life since Miss Westerfield first came into our house." + +She passed through the open doorway--stopped--and came back +again. "I didn't mean to offend you, mamma--but you do say such +irritating things. Good-night." + +Not a word of reply acknowledged that kindly-meant apology. Mrs. +Presty--vivacious Mrs. Presty of the indomitable spirit and the +ready tongue--was petrified. She, the guardian angel of the +family, whose experience, devotion, and sound sense had steered +Catherine through difficulties and dangers which must have +otherwise ended in utter domestic shipwreck--she, the model +mother--had been stigmatized as the evil genius of her daughter's +life by no less a person than that daughter herself! What was to +be said? What was to be done? What terrible and unexampled course +of action should be taken after such an insult as this? Mrs. +Presty stood helpless in the middle of the room, and asked +herself these questions, and waited and wondered and found no answer. + +An interval passed. There was a knock at the door. A waiter +appeared. He said: "A gentleman to see Mrs. Norman." + +The gentleman entered the room and revealed himself. + +Herbert Linley! + + + +Chapter XLVIII. + + +Be Careful! + + +The divorced husband looked at his mother-in-law without making +the slightest sacrifice to the claims of politeness. He neither +offered his hand nor made his bow. His frowning eyebrows, his +flushed face, betrayed the anger that was consuming him. + +"I want to see Catherine," he said. + +This deliberate rudeness proved to be the very stimulant that was +required to restore Mrs. Presty to herself. The smile that always +meant mischief made its threatening appearance on the old lady's +face. + +"What sort of company have you been keeping since I last saw +you?" she began. + +"What have you got to do with the company I keep?" + +"Nothing whatever, I am happy to say. I was merely wondering +whether you have been traveling lately in the south part of +Africa, and have lived exclusively in the society of Hottentots. +The only other explanation of your behavior is that I have been +so unfortunate as to offend you. But it seems improbable--I am +not your wife." + +"Thank God for that!" + +"Thank God, as you say. But I should really be glad (as a mere +matter of curiosity) to know what your extraordinary conduct +means. You present yourself in this room uninvited, you find a +lady here, and you behave as if you had come into a shop and +wanted to ask the price of something. Let me give you a lesson in +good manners. Observe: I receive you with a bow, and I say: How +do you do, Mr. Linley? Do you understand me?" + +"I don't want to understand you--I want to see Catherine." + +"Who is Catherine?" + +"You know as well as I do--your daughter." + +"My daughter, sir, is a stranger to you. We will speak of her, if +you please, by the name--the illustrious name--which she +inherited at her birth. You wish to see Mrs. Norman?" + +"Call her what you like. I have a word to say to her, and I mean +to say it." + +"No, Mr. Linley, you won't say it." + +"We'll see about that! Where is she?" + +"My daughter is not well." + +"Well or ill, I shan't keep her long." + +"My daughter has retired to her room." + +"Where is her room?" + +Mrs. Presty moved to the fireplace, and laid her hand on the +bell. + +"Are you aware that this house is a hotel?" she asked. + +"It doesn't matter to me what it is." + +"Oh yes, it does. A hotel keeps waiters. A hotel, when it is as +large as this, has a policeman in attendance. Must I ring?" + +The choice between giving way to Mrs. Presty, or being +disgracefully dismissed, was placed plainly before him. Herbert's +life had been the life of a gentleman; he knew that he had +forgotten himself; it was impossible that he could hesitate. + +"I won't trouble you to ring," he said; "and I will beg your +pardon for having allowed my temper to get the better of me. At +the same time it ought to be remembered, I think, in my favor, +that I have had some provocation." + +"I don't agree with you," Mrs. Presty answered. She was deaf to +any appeal for mercy from Herbert Linley. "As to provocation," +she added, returning to her chair without asking him to be +seated, "when you apply that word to yourself, you insult my +daughter and me. _You_ provoked? Oh, heavens!" + +"You wouldn't say that," he urged, speaking with marked restraint +of tone and manner, "if you knew what I have had to endure--" + +Mrs. Presty suddenly looked toward the door. "Wait a minute," she +said; "I think I hear somebody coming in." + +In the silence that followed, footsteps were audible outside--not +approaching the door, however, but retiring from it. Mrs. Presty +had apparently been mistaken. "Yes?" she said resignedly, +permitting Herbert to proceed. + +He really had something to say for himself, and he said it with +sufficient moderation. That he had been guilty of serious +offenses he made no attempt to deny; but he pleaded that he had +not escaped without justly suffering for what he had done. He had +been entirely in the wrong when he threatened to take the child +away from her mother by force of law; but had he not been +punished when his wife obtained her Divorce, and separated him +from his little daughter as well as from herself? (No: Mrs. +Presty failed to see it; if anybody had suffered by the Divorce, +the victim was her injured daughter.) Still patient, Herbert did +not deny the injury; he only submitted once more that he had +suffered his punishment. Whether his life with Sydney Westerfield +had or had not been a happy one, he must decline to say; he would +only declare that it had come to an end. She had left him. Yes! +she had left him forever. He had no wish to persuade her to +return to their guilty life; they were both penitent, they were +both ashamed of it. But she had gone away without the provision +which he was bound in honor to offer to her. + +"She is friendless; she may be in a state of poverty that I +tremble to think of," Herbert declared. "Is there nothing to +plead for me in such anxiety as I am suffering now?" Mrs. Presty +stopped him there; she had heard enough of Sydney already. + +"I see nothing to be gained," she said, "by dwelling on the past; +and I should be glad to know why you have come to this place +to-night." + +"I have come to see Kitty." + +"Quite out of the question." + +"Don't tell me that, Mrs. Presty! I'm one of the wretchedest men +living, and I ask for the consolation of seeing my child. Kitty +hasn't forgotten me yet, I know. Her mother can't be so cruel as +to refuse. She shall fix her own time, and send me away when she +likes; I'll submit to anything. Will you ask Catherine to let me +see Kitty?" + +"I can't do it." + +"Why not?" + +"For private reasons." + +"What reasons?" + +"For reasons into which you have no right to inquire." + +He got up from his chair. His face presented the same expression +which Mrs. Presty had seen on it when he first entered the room. + +"When I came in here," he said, "I wished to be certain of one +thing. Your prevarication has told me what I wanted to know. The +newspapers had Catherine's own authority for it, Mrs. Presty, +when they called her widow. I know now why my brother, who never +deceived me before, has deceived me about this. I understand the +part that your daughter has been playing--and I am as certain as +if I had heard it, of the devilish lie that one of you--perhaps +both of you--must have told my poor child. No, no; I had better +not see Catherine. Many a man has killed his wife, and has not +had such good reason for doing it as I have. You are quite right +to keep me away from her." + +He stopped--and looked suddenly toward the door. "I hear her," he +cried, "She's coming in!" + +The footsteps outside were audible once more. This time, they +were approaching; they were close to the door. Herbert drew back +from it. Looking round to see that he was out of the way, Mrs. +Presty rushed forward--tore open the door in terror of what might +happen--and admitted Captain Bennydeck. + + + +Chapter XLIX. + + +Keep the Secret. + + +The Captain's attention was first attracted by the visitor whom +he found in the room. He bowed to the stranger; but the first +impression produced on him did not appear to have been of the +favorable kind, when he turned next to Mrs. Presty. + +Observing that she was agitated, he made the customary apologies, +expressing his regret if he had been so unfortunate as to commit +an intrusion. Trusting in the good sense and good breeding which +distinguished him on other occasions, Mrs. Presty anticipated +that he would see the propriety of leaving her alone again with +the person whom he had found in her company. To her dismay he +remained in the room; and, worse still, he noticed her daughter's +absence, and asked if there was any serious cause for it. + +For the moment, Mrs. Presty was unable to reply. Her presence of +mind--or, to put it more correctly, her ready audacity--deserted +her, when she saw Catherine's husband that had been, and +Catherine's husband that was to be, meeting as strangers, and but +too likely to discover each other. + +In all her experience she had never been placed in such a +position of embarrassment as the position in which she found +herself now. The sense of honor which had prompted Catherine's +resolution to make Bennydeck acquainted with the catastrophe of +married life, might plead her excuse in the estimation of a man +devotedly attached to her. But if the Captain was first informed +that he had been deceived by a person who was a perfect stranger +to him, what hope could be entertained of his still holding +himself bound by his marriage engagement? It was even possible +that distrust had been already excited in his mind. He must +certainly have heard a man's voice raised in anger when he +approached the door--and he was now observing that man with an +air of curiosity which was already assuming the appearance of +distrust. That Herbert, on his side, resented the Captain's +critical examination of him was plainly visible in his face. +After a glance at Bennydeck, he asked Mrs. Presty "who that +gentleman was." + +"I may be mistaken," he added; "but I thought your friend looked +at me just now as if he knew me." + +"I have met you, sir, before this." The Captain made the reply +with a courteous composure of tone and manner which apparently +reminded Herbert of the claims of politeness. + +"May I ask where I had the honor of seeing you?" he inquired. + +"We passed each other in the hall of the hotel at Sandyseal. You +had a young woman with you." + +"Your memory is a better one than mine, sir. I fail to remember +the circumstance to which you refer." + +Bennydeck let the matter rest there. Struck by the remarkable +appearance of embarrassment in Mrs. Presty's manner--and feeling +(in spite of Herbert's politeness of language) increased distrust +of the man whom he had found visiting her--he thought it might +not be amiss to hint that she could rely on him in case of +necessity. "I am afraid I have interrupted a confidential +interview," he began; "and I ought perhaps to explain--" + +Mrs. Presty listened absently; preoccupied by the fear that +Herbert would provoke a dangerous disclosure, and by the +difficulty of discovering a means of preventing it. She +interrupted the Captain. + +"Excuse me for one moment; I have a word to say to this +gentleman." Bennydeck immediately drew back, and Mrs. Presty +lowered her voice. "If you wish to see Kitty," she resumed, +attacking Herbert on his weak side, "it depends entirely on your +discretion." + +"What do you mean by discretion?" + +"Be careful not to speak of our family troubles--and I promise +you shall see Kitty. That is what I mean." + +Herbert declined to say whether he would be careful or not. He +was determined to find out, first, with what purpose Bennydeck +had entered the room. "The gentleman was about to explain himself +to you," he said to Mrs. Presty. "Why don't you give him the +opportunity?" + +She had no choice but to submit--in appearance at least. Never +had she hated Herbert as she hated him at that moment. The +Captain went on with his explanation. He had his reasons (he +said) for hesitating, in the first instance, to present himself +uninvited, and he accordingly retired. On second thoughts, +however, he had returned, in the hope-- + +"In the hope," Herbert interposed, "of seeing Mrs. Presty's +daughter?" + +"That was one of my motives," Bennydeck answered. + +"Is it indiscreet to inquire what the other motive was?" + +"Not at all. I heard a stranger's voice, speaking in a tone +which, to say the least of it, is not customary in a lady's room +and I thought--" + +Herbert interrupted him again. "And you thought your interference +might be welcome to the lady! Am I right?" + +"Quite right." + +"Am I making another lucky guess if I suppose myself to be +speaking to Captain Bennydeck?" + +"I shall be glad to hear, sir, how you have arrived at the +knowledge of my name." + +"Shall we say, Captain, that I have arrived at it by instinct?" + +His face, as he made that reply, alarmed Mrs. Presty. She cast a +look at him, partly of entreaty, partly of warning. No effect was +produced by the look. He continued, in a tone of ironical +compliment: "You must pay the penalty of being a public +character. Your marriage is announced in the newspapers." + +"I seldom read the newspapers." + +"Ah, indeed? Perhaps the report is not true? As you don't read +the newspapers, allow me to repeat it. You are engaged to marry +the 'beautiful widow, Mrs. Norman.' I think I quote those last +words correctly?" + +Mrs. Presty suddenly got up. With an inscrutable face that told +no tales, she advanced to the door. Herbert's insane jealousy of +the man who was about to become Catherine's husband had led him +into a serious error; he had driven Catherine's mother to +desperation. In that state of mind she recovered her lost +audacity, as a matter of course. Opening the door, she turned +round to the two men, with a magnificent impudence of manner +which in her happiest moments she had never surpassed. + +"I am sorry to interrupt this interesting conversation," she +said; "but I have stupidly forgotten one of my domestic duties. +You will allow me to return, and listen with renewed pleasure, +when my household business is off my mind. I shall hope to find +you both more polite to each other than ever when I come back." +She was in such a frenzy of suppressed rage that she actually +kissed her hand to them as she left the room! + +Bennydeck looked after her, convinced that some sinister purpose +was concealed under Mrs. Presty's false excuses, and wholly +unable to imagine what that purpose might be. Herbert still +persisted in trying to force a quarrel on the Captain. + +"As I remarked just now," he proceeded, "newspaper reports are +not always to be trusted. Do you seriously mean, my dear sir, to +marry Mrs. Norman?" + +"I look forward to that honor and that happiness. But I am at a +loss to know how it interests you." + +"In that case allow me to enlighten you. My name is Herbert +Linley." + +He had held his name in reserve, feeling certain of the effect +which he would produce when he pronounced it. The result took him +completely by surprise. Not the slightest appearance of agitation +showed itself in Bennydeck's manner. On the contrary, he looked +as if there was something that interested him in the discovery of +the name. + +"You are probably related to a friend of mine?" he said, quietly. + +"Who is your friend?" + +"Mr. Randal Linley." + +Herbert was entirely unprepared for this discovery. Once more, +the Captain had got the best of it. + +"Are you and Randal Linley intimate friends?" he inquired, as +soon as he had recovered himself. + +"Most intimate." + +"It's strange that he should never have mentioned me, on any +occasion when you and he were together." + +"It does indeed seem strange." + +Herbert paused. His brother's keen sense of the disgrace that he +had inflicted on the family recurred to his memory. He began to +understand Randal's otherwise unaccountable silence. + +"Are you nearly related to Mr. Randal Linley?" the Captain asked. + +"I am his elder brother." + +Ignorant on his part of the family disgrace, Bennydeck heard that +reply with amazement. From his point of view, it was impossible +to account for Randal's silence. + +"Will you think me very inquisitive," Herbert resumed, "if I ask +whether my brother approves of your marriage?" + +There was a change in his tone, as he put that question which +warned Bennydeck to be on his guard. "I have not yet consulted my +friend's opinion," he answered, shortly. + +Herbert threw off the mask. "In the meantime, you shall have my +opinion," he said. "Your marriage is a crime--and I mean to +prevent it." + +The Captain left his chair, and sternly faced the man who had +spoken those insolent words. + +"Are you mad?" he asked. + +Herbert was on the point of declaring himself to have been +Catherine's husband, until the law dissolved their marriage--when +a waiter came in and approached him with a message. "You are +wanted immediately, sir." + +"Who wants me?" + +"A person outside, sir. It's a serious matter--there is not a +moment to lose." + +Herbert turned to the Captain. "I must have your promise to wait +for me," he said, "or I don't leave the room." + +"Make your mind easy. I shall not stir from this place till you +have explained yourself," was the firm reply. + +The servant led the way out. He crossed the passage, and opened +the door of a waiting-room. Herbert passed in--and found himself +face to face with his divorced wife. + + + +Chapter L. + + +Forgiveness to the Injured Doth Belong. + + +Without one word of explanation, Catherine stepped up to him, and +spoke first. + +"Answer me this," she said--"have you told Captain Bennydeck who +I am?" + +"Not yet." + +The shortest possible reply was the only reply that he could +make, in the moment when he first looked at her. + +She was not the same woman whom he had last seen at Sandyseal, +returning for her lost book. The agitation produced by that +unexpected meeting had turned her pale; the overpowering sense of +injury had hardened and aged her face. This time, she was +prepared to see him; this time, she was conscious of a resolution +that raised her in her own estimation. Her clear blue eyes +glittered as she looked at him, the bright color glowed in her +cheeks; he was literally dazzled by her beauty. + +"In the past time, which we both remember," she resumed, "you +once said that I was the most truthful woman you had ever known. +Have I done anything to disturb that part of your old faith in +me?" + +"Nothing." + +She went on: "Before you entered this house, I had determined to +tell Captain Bennydeck what you have not told him yet. When I say +that, do you believe me?" + +If he had been able to look away from her, he might have foreseen +what was coming; and he would have remembered that his triumph +over the Captain was still incomplete. But his eyes were riveted +on her face; his tenderest memories of her were pleading with +him. He answered as a docile child might have answered. + +"I do believe you." + +She took a letter from her bosom; and, showing it, begged him to +remark that it was not closed. + +"I was in my bedroom writing," she said, "When my mother came to +me and told me that you and Captain Bennydeck had met in my +sitting-room. She dreaded a quarrel and an exposure, and she +urged me to go downstairs and insist on sending you away--or +permit her to do so, if I could not prevail on myself to follow +her advice. I refused to allow the shameful dismissal of a man +who had once had his claim on my respect. The only alternative +that I could see was to speak with you here, in private, as we +are speaking now. My mother undertook to manage this for me; she +saw the servant, and gave him the message which you received. +Where is Captain Bennydeck now?" + +"He is waiting in the sitting-room." + +"Waiting for you?" + +"Yes." + +She considered a little before she said her next words. + +"I have brought with me what I was writing in my own room," she +resumed, "wishing to show it to you. Will you read it?" + +She offered the letter to him. He hesitated. "Is it addressed to +me?" he asked. + +"It is addressed to Captain Bennydeck," she answered. + +The jealousy that still rankled in his mind--jealousy that he had +no more lawful or reasonable claim to feel than if he had been a +stranger--urged him to assume an indifference which he was far +from feeling. He begged that Catherine would accept his excuses. + +She refused to excuse him. + +"Before you decide," she said, "you ought at least to know why I +have written to Captain Bennydeck, instead of speaking to him as +I had proposed. My heart failed me when I thought of the distress +that he might feel--and, perhaps of the contempt of myself which, +good and gentle as he is, he might not be able to disguise. My +letter tells him the truth, without concealment. I am obliged to +speak of the manner in which you have treated me, and of the +circumstances which forced me into acts of deception that I now +bitterly regret. I have tried not to misrepresent you; I have +been anxious to do you no wrong. It is for you, not for me, to +say if I have succeeded. Once more, will you read my letter?" + +The sad self-possession, the quiet dignity with which she spoke, +appealed to his memory of the pardon that she had so generously +granted, while he and Sydney Westerfield were still guiltless of +the injury inflicted on her at a later time. Silently he took the +letter from her, and read it. + +She kept her face turned away from him and from the light. The +effort to be still calm and reasonable--to suffer the heart-ache, +and not to let the suffering be seen--made cruel demands on the +self-betraying nature of a woman possessed by strong emotion. +There was a moment when she heard him sigh while he was reading. +She looked round at him, and instantly looked away again. + +He rose and approached her; he held out the letter in one hand, +and pointed to it with the other. Twice he attempted to speak. +Twice the influence of the letter unmanned him. + +It was a hard struggle, but it was for her sake: he mastered his +weakness, and forced his trembling voice to submit to his will. + +"Is the man whom you are going to marry worthy of _this?_" he +asked, still pointing to the letter. + +She answered, firmly: "More than worthy of it." + +"Marry him, Catherine--and forget Me." + +The great heart that he had so sorely wounded pitied him, forgave +him, answered him with a burst of tears. She held out one +imploring hand. + +His lips touched it--he was gone. + + + +Chapter LI. + + +Dum Spiro, Spero. + + +Brisk and smiling, Mrs. Presty presented herself in the +waiting-room. "We have got rid of our enemy!" she announced, "I +looked out of the window and saw him leaving the hotel." She +paused, struck with the deep dejection expressed in her +daughter's attitude. "Catherine!" she exclaimed, "I tell you +Herbert has gone, and you look as if you regretted it! Is there +anything wrong? Did my message fail to bring him here?" + +"No." + +"He was bent on mischief when I saw him last. Has he told +Bennydeck of the Divorce?" + +"No." + +"Thank Heaven for that! There is no one to be afraid of now. +Where is the Captain?" + +"He is still in the sitting-room." + +"Why don't you go to him?" + +"I daren't!" + +"Shall I go?" + +"Yes--and give him this." + +Mrs. Presty took the letter. "You mean, tear it up," she said, +"and quite right, too." + +"No; I mean what l say." + +"My dear child, if you have any regard for yourself, if you have +any regard for me, don't ask me to give Bennydeck this mad +letter! You won't hear reason? You still insist on it?" + +"I do." + +"If Kitty ever behaves to you, Catherine, as you have behaved to +me--you will have richly deserved it. Oh, if you were only a +child again, I'd beat it out of you--I would!" + +With that outburst of temper, she took the letter to Bennydeck. +In less than a minute she returned, a tamed woman. "He frightens +me," she said. + +"Is he angry?" + +"No--and that is the worst of it. When men are angry, I am never +afraid of them. He's quiet, too quiet. He said: 'I'm waiting for +Mr. Herbert Linley; where is he?' I said. 'He has left the +hotel.' He said: 'What does that mean?' I handed the letter to +him. 'Perhaps this will explain,' I said. He looked at the +address, and at once recognized your handwriting. 'Why does she +write to me when we are both in the same house? Why doesn't she +speak to me?' I pointed to the letter. He wouldn't look at it; he +looked straight at me. 'There's some mystery here,' he said; 'I'm +a plain man, I don't like mysteries. Mr. Linley had something to +say to me, when the message interrupted him. Who sent the +message? Do you know?' If there is a woman living, Catherine, who +would have told the truth, in such a position as mine was at that +moment, I should like to have her photograph. I said I didn't +know--and I saw he suspected me of deceiving him. Those kind eyes +of his--you wouldn't believe it of them!--looked me through and +through. 'I won't detain you any longer,' he said. I'm not easily +daunted, as you know--the relief it was to me to get away from +him is not to be told in words. What do you think I heard when I +got into the passage? I heard him turn the key of the door. He's +locked in, my dear; he's locked in! We are too near him here. +Come upstairs." + +Catherine refused. "I ought to be near him," she said, hopefully; +"he may wish to see me." + +Her mother reminded her that the waiting-room was a public room, +and might be wanted. + +"Let's go into the garden," Mrs. Presty proposed. "We can tell +the servant who waits on us where we may be found." + +Catherine yielded. Mrs. Presty's excitement found its overflow in +talking perpetually. Her daughter had nothing to say, and cared +nothing where they went; all outward manifestation of life in +her seemed to be suspended at that terrible time of expectation. +They wandered here and there, in the quietest part of the +grounds. Half an hour passed--and no message was received. The +hotel clock struck the hour--and still nothing happened. + +"I can walk no longer," Catherine said. She dropped on one of the +garden-chairs, holding by her mother's hand. "Go to him, for +God's sake!" she entreated. "I can endure it no longer." + +Mrs. Presty--even bold Mrs. Presty--was afraid to face him again. +"He's fond of the child," she suggested; "let's send Kitty." + +Some little girls were at play close by who knew where Kitty was +to be found. In a few minutes more they brought her back with +them. Mrs. Presty gave the child her instructions, and sent her +away proud of her errand, and delighted at the prospect of +visiting the Captain by herself, as if she "was a grown-up lady." + +This time the period of suspense was soon at an end. Kitty came +running back. "It's lucky you sent me," she declared. "He +wouldn't have opened the door to anybody else--he said so +himself." + +"Did you knock softly, as I told you?" Mrs. Presty asked. + +"No, grandmamma, I forgot that. I tried to open the door. He +called out not to disturb him. I said, 'It's only me,' and he +opened the door directly. What makes him look so pale, mamma? Is +he ill?" + +"Perhaps he feels the heat," Mrs. Presty suggested, judiciously. + +"He said, 'Dear little Kitty,' and he caught me up in his arms +and kissed me. When he sat down again he took me on his knee, and +he asked if I was fond of him, and I said, 'Yes, I am,' and he +kissed me again, and he asked if I had come to stay with him and +keep him company. I forgot what you wanted me to say," Kitty +acknowledged, addressing Mrs. Presty; "so I made it up out of my +own head." + +"What did you tell him?" + +"I told him, mamma was as fond of him as I was, and I said, 'We +will both keep you company.' He put me down on the floor, and he +got up and went to the window and looked out. I told him that +wasn't the way to find her, and I said, 'I know where she is; +I'll go and fetch her.' He's an obstinate man, our nice Captain. +He wouldn't come away from the window. I said, 'You wish to see +mamma, don't you?' And he said 'Yes.' 'You mustn't lock the door +again,' I told him, 'she won't like that'; and what do you think +he said? He said 'Good-by, Kitty!' Wasn't it funny? He didn't +seem to know what he was talking about. If you ask my opinion, +mamma, I think the sooner you go to him the better." Catherine +hesitated. Mrs. Presty on one side, and Kitty on the other, led +her between them into the house. + + + +Chapter LII. + + +L'homme propose, et Dieu dispose. + + +Captain Bennydeck met Catherine and her child at the open door of +the room. Mrs. Presty, stopping a few paces behind them, waited +in the passage; eager to see what the Captain's face might tell +her. It told her nothing. + +But Catherine saw a change in him. There was something in his +manner unnaturally passive and subdued. It suggested the idea of +a man whose mind had been forced into an effort of self-control +which had exhausted its power, and had allowed the signs of +depression and fatigue to find their way to the surface. The +Captain was quiet, the Captain was kind; neither by word nor look +did he warn Catherine that the continuity of their intimacy was +in danger of being broken--and yet, her spirits sank, when they +met at the open door. + +He led her to a chair, and said she had come to him at a time +when he especially wished to speak with her. Kitty asked if she +might remain with them. He put his hand caressingly on her head; +"No, my dear, not now." + +The child eyed him for a moment, conscious of something which she +had never noticed in him before, and puzzled by the discovery. +She walked back, cowed and silent, to the door. He followed her +and spoke to Mrs. Presty. + +"Take your grandchild into the garden; we will join you there in +a little while. Good-by for the present, Kitty." + +Kitty said good-by mechanically--like a dull child repeating a +lesson. Her grandmother led her away in silence. + +Bennydeck closed the door and seated himself by Catherine. + +"I thank you for your letter," he said. "If such a thing is +possible, it has given me a higher opinion of you than any +opinion that I have held yet." + +She looked at him with a feeling of surprise, so sudden and so +overwhelming that she was at a loss how to reply. The last words +which she expected to hear from him, when he alluded to her +confession, were the words that had just passed his lips. + +"You have owned to faults that you have committed, and deceptions +that you have sanctioned," he went on--"with nothing to gain, and +everything to lose, by telling the truth. Who but a good woman +would have done that?" + +There was a deeper feeling in him than he had ventured to +express. It betrayed itself by a momentary trembling in his +voice. Catherine drew a little closer to him. + +"You don't know how you surprise me, how you relieve me," she +said, warmly--and pressed his hand. In the eagerness of her +gratitude, in the gladness that had revived her sinking heart, +she failed to feel that the pressure was not returned. + +"What have I said to surprise you?" he asked. "What anxiety have +I relieved, without knowing it?" + +"I was afraid you would despise me." + +"Why should I despise you?" + +"Have I not gained your good opinion under false pretenses? Have +I not allowed you to admire me and to love me without telling you +that there was anything in my past life which I have reason to +regret? Even now, I can hardly realize that you excuse and +forgive me; you, who have read the confession of my worst faults; +you, who know the shocking inconsistencies of my character--" + +"Say at once," he answered, "that I know you to be a mortal +creature. Is there any human character, even the noblest, that is +always consistently good?" + +"One reads of them sometimes," she suggested, "in books." + +"Yes," he said. "In the worst books you could possibly read--the +only really immoral books written in our time." + +"Why are they immoral?" + +"For this plain reason, that they deliberately pervert the truth. +Clap-trap, you innocent creature, to catch foolish readers! When +do these consistently good people appear in the life around us, +the life that we all see? Never! Are the best mortals that ever +lived above the reach of temptation to do ill, and are they +always too good to yield to it? How does the Lord's Prayer +instruct humanity? It commands us all, without exception, to pray +that we may not be led into temptation. You have been led into +temptation. In other words, you are a human being. All that a +human being could do you have done--you have repented and +confessed. Don't I know how you have suffered and how you have +been tried! Why, what a mean Pharisee I should be if I presumed +to despise you!" + +She looked at him proudly and gratefully; she lifted her arm as +if to thank him by an embrace, and suddenly let it drop again at +her side. + +"Am I tormenting myself without cause?" she said. "Or is there +something that looks like sorrow, showing itself to me in your +face?" + +"You see the bitterest sorrow that I have felt in all my sad +life." + +"Is it sorrow for me?" + +"No. Sorrow for myself." + +"Has it come to you through me? Is it my fault?" + +"It is more your misfortune than your fault." + +"Then you can feel for me?" + +"I can and do." + +He had not yet set her at ease. + +"I am afraid your sympathy stops somewhere," she said. "Where +does it stop?" + +For the first time, he shrank from directly answering her. "I +begin to wish I had followed your example," he owned. "It might +have been better for both of us if I had answered your letter in +writing." + +"Tell me plainly," she cried, "is there something you can't +forgive?" + +"There is something I can't forget." + +"What is it? Oh, what is it! When my mother told poor little +Kitty that her father was dead, are you even more sorry than I am +that I allowed it? Are you even more ashamed of me than I am of +myself?" + +"No. I regret that you allowed it; but I understand how you were +led into that error. Your husband's infidelity had shaken his +hold on your respect for him and your sympathy with him, and had +so left you without your natural safeguard against Mrs. Presty's +sophistical reasoning and bad example. But for _that_ +wrong-doing, there is a remedy left. Enlighten your child as you +have enlightened me; and then--I have no personal motive for +pleading Mr. Herbert Linley's cause, after what I have seen of +him--and then, acknowledge the father's claim on the child." + +"Do you mean his claim to see her?" + +"What else can I mean? Yes! let him see her. Do (God help me, now +when it's too late!)--do what you ought to have done, on that +accursed day which will be the blackest day in my calendar, to +the end of my life." + +"What day do you mean?" + +"The day when you remembered the law of man, and forgot the law +of God; the day when you broke the marriage tie, the sacred tie, +by a Divorce!" + +She listened--not conscious now of suspense or fear; she +listened, with her whole heart in revolt against him. + +"You are too cruel!" she declared. "You can feel for me, you can +understand me, you can pardon me in everything else that I have +done. But you judge without mercy of the one blameless act of my +life, since my husband left me--the act that protected a mother +in the exercise of her rights. Oh, can it be you? Can it be you?" + +"It can be," he said, sighing bitterly; "and it is." + +"What horrible delusion possesses you? Why do you curse the happy +day, the blessed day, which saw me safe in the possession of my +child?" + +"For the worst and meanest of reasons," he answered--"a selfish +reason. Don't suppose that I have spoken of Divorce as one who +has had occasion to think of it. I have had no occasion to think +of it; I don't think of it even now. I abhor it because it stands +between you and me. I loathe it, I curse it because it separates +us for life." + +"Separates us for life? How?" + +"Can you ask me?" + +"Yes, I do ask you!" + +He looked round him. A society of religious persons had visited +the hotel, and had obtained permission to place a copy of the +Bible in every room. One of those copies lay on the chimney-piece +in Catherine's room. Bennydeck brought it to her, and placed it +on the table near which she was sitting. He turned to the New +Testament, and opened it at the Gospel of Saint Matthew. With his +hand on the page, he said: + +"I have done my best rightly to understand the duties of a +Christian. One of those duties, as I interpret them, is to let +what I believe show itself in what I do. You have seen enough of +me, I hope, to know (though I have not been forward in speaking +of it) that I am, to the best of my poor ability, a faithful +follower of the teachings of Christ. I dare not set my own +interests and my own happiness above His laws. If I suffer in +obeying them as I suffer now, I must still submit. They are the +laws of my life." + +"Is it through me that you suffer?" + +"It is through you." + +"Will you tell me how?" + +He had already found the chapter. His tears dropped on it as he +pointed to the verse. + +"Read," he answered, "what the most compassionate of all Teachers +has said, in the Sermon on the Mount." + +She read: "Whosoever shall marry her that is divorced committeth +adultery." + +Another innocent woman, in her place, might have pointed to that +first part of the verse, which pre-supposes the infidelity of the +divorced wife, and might have asked if those words applied to +_her_. This woman, knowing that she had lost him, knew also what +she owed to herself. She rose in silence, and held out her hand at +parting. + +He paused before he took her hand. "Can you forgive me?" he +asked. + +She said: "I can pity you." + +"Can you look back to the day of your marriage? Can you remember +the words which declared the union between you and your husband +to be separable only by death? Has he treated you with brutal +cruelty?" + +"Never!" + +"Has he repented of his sin?" + +"Yes." + +"Ask your own conscience if there is not a worthier life for you +and your child than the life that you are leading now." He +waited, after that appeal to her. The silence remained unbroken. +"Do not mistake me," he resumed gently. "I am not thinking of the +calamity that has fallen on me in a spirit of selfish despair--I +am looking to _your_ future, and I am trying to show you the way +which leads to hope. Catherine! have you no word more to say to +me?" + +In faint trembling tones she answered him at last: + +"You have left me but one word to say. Farewell!" + +He drew her to him gently, and kissed her on the forehead. The +agony in his face was more than she could support; she recoiled +from it in horror. His last act was devoted to the tranquillity +of the one woman whom he had loved. He signed to her to leave +him. + + +Chapter LIII. + + +The Largest Nature, the Longest Love. + + +Mrs. Presty waited in the garden to be joined by her daughter and +Captain Bennydeck, and waited in vain. It was past her +grandchild's bedtime; she decided on returning to the house. + +"Suppose we look for them in the sitting-room?" Kitty proposed. + +"Suppose we wait a moment, before we go in?" her wise grandmother +advised. "If I hear them talking I shall take you upstairs to +bed." + +"Why?" + +Mrs. Presty favored Kitty with a hint relating to the management +of inquisitive children which might prove useful to her in +after-life. "When you grow up to be a woman, my dear, beware of +making the mistake that I have just committed. Never be foolish +enough to mention your reasons when a child asks, Why?" + +"Was that how they treated _you_, grandmamma, when you were a +child yourself?" + +"Of course it was!" + +"Why?" + +They had reached the sitting-room door by this time. Kitty opened +it without ceremony and looked in. The room was empty. + +Having confided her granddaughter to the nursemaid's care, Mrs. +Presty knocked at Catherine's bedroom door. "May I come in?" + +"Come in directly! Where is Kitty?" + +"Susan is putting her to bed." + +"Stop it! Kitty mustn't go to bed. No questions. I'll explain +myself when you come back." There was a wildness in her eyes, and +a tone of stern command in her voice, which warned her mother to +set dignity aside, and submit. + +"I don't ask what has happened," Mrs. Presty resumed on her +return. "That letter, that fatal letter to the Captain, has +justified my worst fears. What in Heaven's name are we to do +now?" + +"We are to leave this hotel," was the instant reply. + +"When?" + +"To-night." + +"Catherine! do you know what time it is?" + +"Time enough to catch the last train to London. Don't raise +objections! If I stay at this place, with associations in every +part of it which remind me of that unhappy man, I shall go mad! +The shock I have suffered, the misery, the humiliation--I tell +you it's more than I can bear. Stay here by yourself if you like; +I mean to go." + +She paced with frantic rapidity up and down the room. Mrs. Presty +took the only way by which it was possible to calm her. "Compose +yourself, Catherine, and all that you wish shall be done. I'll +settle everything with the landlord, and give the maid her +orders. Sit down by the open window; let the wind blow over you." + +The railway service from Sydenham to London is a late service. At +a few minutes before midnight they were in time for the last +train. When they left the station, Catherine was calm enough to +communicate her plans for the future. The nearest hotel to the +terminus would offer them accommodation for that night. On the +next day they could find some quiet place in the country--no +matter where, so long as they were not disturbed. "Give me rest +and peace, and my mind will be easier," Catherine said. "Let +nobody know where to find me." + +These conditions were strictly observed--with an exception in +favor of Mr. Sarrazin. While his client's pecuniary affairs were +still unsettled, the lawyer had his claim to be taken into her +confidence. + + * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * + +The next morning found Captain Bennydeck still keeping his rooms +at Sydenham. The state of his mind presented a complete contrast +to the state of Catherine's mind. So far from sharing her +aversion to the personal associations which were connected with +the hotel, he found his one consolation in visiting the scenes +which reminded him of the beloved woman whom he had lost. The +reason for this was not far to seek. His was the largest nature, +and his had been the most devoted love. + +As usual, his letters were forwarded to him from his place of +residence in London. Those addressed in handwritings that he knew +were the first that he read. The others he took out with him to +that sequestered part of the garden in which he had passed the +happiest hours of his life by Catherine's side. + +He had been thinking of her all the morning; he was thinking of +her now. + +His better judgment protested; his accusing conscience warned him +that he was committing, not only an act of folly but (with his +religious convictions) an act of sin--and still she held her +place in his thoughts. The manager had told him of her sudden +departure from the hotel, and had declared with perfect truth +that the place of her destination had not been communicated to +him. Asked if she had left no directions relating to her +correspondence, he had replied that his instructions were to +forward all letters to her lawyer. On the point of inquiring next +for the name and address, Bennydeck's sense of duty and sense of +shame (roused at last) filled him with a timely contempt for +himself. In feeling tempted to write to Catherine--in encouraging +fond thoughts of her among scenes which kept her in his +memory--he had been false to the very principles to which he had +appealed at their farewell interview. She had set him the right +example, the example which he was determined to follow, in +leaving the place. Before he could falter in his resolution, he +gave notice of his departure. The one hope for him now was to +find a refuge from himself in acts of mercy. Consolation was +perhaps waiting for him in his Home. + +His unopened correspondence offered a harmless occupation to his +thoughts, in the meanwhile. One after another he read the +letters, with an attention constantly wandering and constantly +recalled, until he opened the last of them that remained. In a +moment more his interest was absorbed. The first sentences in the +letter told him that the deserted creature whom he had met in the +garden--the stranger to whom he had offered help and consolation +in the present and in the future--was no other than the lost girl +of whom he had been so long in search; the daughter of Roderick +Westerfield, once his dearest and oldest friend. + +In the pages that followed, the writer confided to him her sad +story; leaving it to her father's friend to decide whether she +was worthy of the sympathy which he had offered to her, when he +thought she was a stranger. + +This part of her letter was necessarily a repetition of what +Bennydeck had read, in the confession which Catherine had +addressed to him. That generous woman had been guilty of one, and +but one, concealment of the truth. In relating the circumstances +under which the elopement from Mount Morven had taken place, she +had abstained, in justice to the sincerity of Sydney's +repentance, from mentioning Sydney's name. "Another instance," +the Captain thought bitterly, as he closed the letter, "of the +virtues which might have made the happiness of my life!" + +But he was bound to remember--and he did remember--that there was +now a new interest, tenderly associating itself with his life to +come. The one best way of telling Sydney how dear she was to him +already, for her father's sake, would be to answer her in person. +He hurried away to London by the first train, and drove at once +to Randal's place of abode to ask for Sydney's address. + +Wondering what had become of the postscript to his letter, which +had given Bennydeck the information of which he was now in +search, Randal complied with his friend's request, and then +ventured to allude to the report of the Captain's marriage +engagement. + +"Am I to congratulate you?" he asked. + +"Congratulate me on having discovered Roderick Westerfield's +daughter." + +That reply, and the tone in which it was given, led Randal to ask +if the engagement had been prematurely announced. + +"There is no engagement at all," Bennydeck answered, with a look +which suggested that it might be wise not to dwell on the +subject. + +But the discovery was welcome to Randal, for his brother's sake. +He ran the risk of consequences, and inquired if Catherine was +still to be found at the hotel. + +The Captain answered by a sign in the negative. + +Randal persisted. "Do you know where she has gone?" + +"Nobody knows but her lawyer." + +"In that case," Randal concluded, "I shall get the information +that I want." Noticing that Bennydeck looked surprised, he +mentioned his motive. "Herbert is pining to see Kitty," h +continued; "and I mean to help him. He has done all that a man +could do to atone for the past. As things are, I believe I shall +not offend Catherine, if I arrange for a meeting between father +and child. What do you say?" + +Bennydeck answered, earnestly and eagerly: "Do it at once!" + +They left the house together--one to go to Sydney's lodgings, the +other on his way to Mr. Sarrazin's office. + + + +Chapter LIV. + + +Let Bygones Be Bygones. + + +When the servant at the lodgings announced a visitor, and +mentioned his name, Sydney's memory (instead of dwelling on the +recollection of the Captain's kindness) perversely recalled the +letter that she had addressed to him, and reminded her that she +stood in need of indulgence, which even so good a man might +hesitate to grant. Bennydeck's first words told the friendless +girl that her fears had wronged him. + +"My dear, how like your father you are! You have his eyes and his +smile; I can't tell you how pleasantly you remind me of my dear +old friend." He took her hand, and kissed her as he might have +kissed a daughter of his own. "Do you remember me at home, +Sydney, when you were a child? No: you must have been too young +for that." + +She was deeply touched. In faint trembling tones she said; "I +remember your name; my poor father often spoke of you." + +A man who feels true sympathy is never in danger of mistaking his +way to a woman's heart, when that woman has suffered. Bennydeck +consoled, interested, charmed Sydney, by still speaking of the +bygone days at home. + +"I well remember how fond your father was of you, and what a +bright little girl you were," the Captain went on. "You have +forgotten, I dare say, the old-fashioned sea-songs that he used +to be so fond of teaching you. It was the strangest and prettiest +contrast, to hear your small piping child's voice singing of +storms and shipwrecks, and thunder and lightning, and reefing +sails in cold and darkness, without the least idea of what it all +meant. Your mother was strict in those days; you never amused her +as you used to amuse your father and me. When she caught you +searching my pockets for sweetmeats, she accused me of destroying +your digestion before you were five years old. I went on spoiling +it, for all that. The last time I saw you, my child, your father +was singing 'The Mariners of England,' and you were on his knee +trying to sing with him. You must have often wondered why you +never saw anything more of me. Did you think I had forgotten +you?" + +"I am quite sure I never thought that!" + +"You see I was in the Navy at the time," the Captain resumed; +"and we were ordered away to a foreign station. When I got back +to England, miserable news was waiting for me. I heard of your +father's death and of that shameful Trial. Poor fellow! He was as +innocent, Sydney, as you are of the offense which he was accused +of committing. The first thing I did was to set inquiries on foot +after your mother and her children. It was some consolation to me +to feel that I was rich enough to make your lives easy and +agreeable to you. I thought money could do anything. A serious +mistake, my dear--money couldn't find the widow and her children. +We supposed you were somewhere in London; and there, to my great +grief, it ended. From time to time--long afterward, when we +thought we had got the clew in our hands--I continued my +inquiries, still without success. A poor woman and her little +family are so easily engulfed in the big city! Years passed (more +of them than I like to reckon up) before I heard of you at last +by name. The person from whom I got my information told me how +you were employed, and where." + +"Oh, Captain Bennydeck, who could the person have been?" + +"A poor old broken-down actor, Sydney. You were his favorite +pupil. Do you remember him?" + +"I should be ungrateful indeed if I could forget him. He was the +only person in the school who was kind to me. Is the good old man +still living?" + +"No; he rests at last. I am glad to say I was able to make his +last days on earth the happiest days of his life." + +"I wonder," Sydney confessed, "how you met with him." + +"There was nothing at all romantic in my first discovery of him. +I was reading the police reports in a newspaper. The poor wretch +was brought before a magistrate, charged with breaking a window. +His one last chance of escaping starvation in the streets was to +get sent to prison. The magistrate questioned him, and brought to +light a really heart-breaking account of misfortune, imbittered +by neglect on the part of people in authority who were bound to +help him. He was remanded, so that inquiries might be made. I +attended the court on the day when he appeared there again, and +heard his statement confirmed. I paid his fine, and contrived to +put him in a way of earning a little money. He was very grateful, +and came now and then to thank me. In that way I heard how his +troubles had begun. He had asked for a small advance on the +wretched wages that he received. Can you guess how the +schoolmistress answered him?" + +"I know but too well how she answered him," Sydney said; "I was +turned out of the house, too." + +"And I heard of it," the Captain replied, "from the woman +herself. Everything that could distress me she was ready to +mention. She told me of your mother's second marriage, of her +miserable death, of the poor boy, your brother, missing, and +never heard of since. But when I asked where you had gone she had +nothing more to say. She knew nothing, and cared nothing, about +you. If I had not become acquainted with Mr. Randal Linley, I +might never have heard of you again. We will say no more of that, +and no more of anything that has happened in the past time. From +to-day, my dear, we begin a new life, and (please God) a happier +life. Have you any plans of your own for the future?" + +"Perhaps, if I could find help," Sydney said resignedly, "I might +emigrate. Pride wouldn't stand in my way; no honest employment +would be beneath my notice. Besides, if I went to America, I +might meet with my brother." + +"My dear child, after the time that has passed, there is no +imaginable chance of your meeting with your brother--and you +wouldn't know each other again if you did meet. Give up that vain +hope and stay here with me. Be useful and be happy in your own +country." + +"Useful?" Sydney repeated sadly. "Your own kind heart, Captain +Bennydeck, is deceiving you. To be useful means, I suppose, to +help others. Who will accept help from me?" + +"I will, for one," the Captain answered. + +"You!" + +"Yes. You can be of the greatest use to me--you shall hear how." + +He told her of the founding of his Home and of the good it had +done. "You are the very person," he resumed, "to be the good +sister-friend that I want for my poor girls: _you_ can say for +them what they cannot always say to me for themselves." + +The tears rose in Sydney's eyes. "It is hard to see such a +prospect as that," she said, "and to give it up as soon as it is +seen." + +"Why give it up?" + +"Because I am not fit for it. You are as good as a father to +those lost daughters of yours. If you give them a sister-friend +she ought to have set them a good example. Have I done that? Will +they listen to a girl who is no better than themselves?" + +"Gladly! _Your_ sympathy will find its way to their hearts, +because it is animated by something that they can all feel in +common--something nearer and dearer to them than a sense of duty. +You won't consent, Sydney, for their sakes? Will you do what I +ask of you, for my sake?" + +She looked at him, hardly able to understand--or, as it might +have been, perhaps afraid to understand him. He spoke to her more +plainly. + +"I have kept it concealed from you," he continued--"for why +should I lay my load of suffering on a friend so young as you +are, so cruelly tried already? Let me only say that I am in great +distress. If you were with me, my child, I might be better able +to bear it." + +He held out his hand. Even a happy woman could hardly have found +it in her heart to resist him. In silent sympathy and respect, +Sydney kissed the hand that he had offered to her. It was the one +way in which she could trust herself to answer him. + +Still encouraging her to see new hopes and new interests in the +future, the good Captain spoke of the share which she might take +in the management of the Home, if she would like to be his +secretary. With this view he showed her some written reports, +relating to the institution, which had been sent to him during +the time of his residence at Sydenham. She read them with an +interest and attention which amply justified his confidence in +her capacity. + +"These reports," he explained to her, "are kept for reference; +but as a means of saving time, the substance of them is entered +in the daily journal of our proceedings. Come, Sydney! venture on +a first experiment in your new character. I see pen, ink, and +paper on the table; try if you can shorten one of the reports, +without leaving out anything which it is important to know. For +instance, the writer gives reasons for making his statement. Very +well expressed, no doubt, but we don't want reasons. Then, again, +he offers his own opinion on the right course to take. Very +creditable to him, but I don't want his opinion--I want his +facts. Take the pen, my secretary, and set down his facts. Never +mind his reflections." + +Proud and pleased, Sydney obeyed him. She had made her little +abstract, and was reading it to him at his request, while he +compared it with the report, when they were interrupted by a +visitor. Randal Linley came in, and noticed the papers on the +table with surprise. "Is it possible that I am interrupting +business?" he asked. + +Bennydeck answered with the assumed air of importance which was +in itself a compliment to Sydney: "You find me engaged on the +business of the Home with my new secretary." + +Randal at once understood what had happened. He took his friend's +arm, and led him to the other end of the room. + +"You good fellow!" he said. "Add to your kindness by excusing me +if I ask for a word with you in private." + +Sydney rose to retire. After having encouraged her by a word of +praise, the Captain proposed that she should get ready to go out, +and should accompany him on a visit to the Home. He opened the +door for her as respectfully as if the poor girl had been one of +the highest ladies in the land. + +"I have seen my friend Sarrazin," Randal began, "and I have +persuaded him to trust me with Catherine's present address. I can +send Herbert there immediately, if you will only help me." + +"How can I help you?" + +"Will you allow me to tell my brother that your engagement is +broken off?" + +Bennydeck shrank from the painful allusion, and showed it. + +Randal explained. "I am grieved," he said, "to distress you by +referring to this subject again. But if my brother is left under +the false impression that your engagement will be followed by +your marriage, he will refuse to intrude himself on the lady who +was once his wife." + +The Captain understood. "Say what you please about me," he +replied. "Unite the father and child--and you may reconcile the +husband and wife." + +"Have you forgotten," Randal asked, "that the marriage has been +dissolved?" + +Bennydeck's answer ignored the law. "I remember," he said, "that +the marriage has been profaned." + + + +Chapter LV. + + +Leave It to the Child. + + +The front windows of Brightwater Cottage look out on a quiet +green lane in Middlesex, which joins the highroad within a few +miles of the market town of Uxbridge. Through the pretty garden +at the back runs a little brook, winding its merry way to a +distant river. The few rooms in this pleasant place of residence +are well (too well) furnished, having regard to the limits of a +building which is a cottage in the strictest sense of the word. +Water-color drawings by the old English masters of the art +ornament the dining-room. The parlor has been transformed into a +library. From floor to ceiling all four of its walls are covered +with books. Their old and well-chosen bindings, seen in the mass, +present nothing less than a feast of color to the eye. The +library and the works of art are described as heirlooms, which +have passed into the possession of the present proprietor--one +more among the hundreds of Englishmen who are ruined every year +by betting on the Turf. + +So sorely in need of a little ready money was this victim of +gambling--tacitly permitted or conveniently ignored by the +audacious hypocrisy of a country which rejoiced in the extinction +of Baden, and which still shudders at the name of Monaco--that he +was ready to let his pretty cottage for no longer a term than one +month certain; and he even allowed the elderly lady, who drove +the hardest of hard bargains with him, to lessen by one guinea +the house-rent paid for each week. He took his revenge by means +of an ironical compliment, addressed to Mrs. Presty. "What a +saving it would be to the country, ma'am, if you were Chancellor +of the Exchequer!" With perfect gravity Mrs. Presty accepted that +well-earned tribute of praise. "You are quite right, sir; I +should be the first official person known to the history of +England who took proper care of the public money." + +Within two days of the time when they had left the hotel at +Sydenham, Catherine and her little family circle had taken +possession of the cottage. + +The two ladies were sitting in the library each occupied with a +book chosen from the well-stocked shelves. Catherine's reading +appeared to be more than once interrupted by Catherine's +thoughts. Noticing this circumstance, Mrs. Presty asked if some +remarkable event had happened, and if it was weighing heavily on +her daughter's mind. + +Catherine answered that she was thinking of Kitty, and that +anxiety connected with the child did weigh heavily on her mind. + +Some days had passed (she reminded Mrs. Presty) since the +interview at which Herbert Linley had bidden her farewell. On +that occasion he had referred to her proposed marriage (never to +be a marriage now!) in terms of forbearance and generosity which +claimed her sincerest admiration. It might be possible for her to +show a grateful appreciation of his conduct. Devotedly fond of +his little daughter, he must have felt acutely his long +separation from her; and it was quite likely that he might ask to +see Kitty. But there was an obstacle in the way of her willing +compliance with that request, which it was impossible to think of +without remorse, and which it was imperatively necessary to +remove. Mrs. Presty would understand that she alluded to the +shameful falsehood which had led the child to suppose that her +father was dead. + +Strongly disapproving of the language in which her daughter had +done justice to the conduct of the divorced husband, Mrs. Presty +merely replied: "You are Kitty's mother; I leave it to you"--and +returned to her reading. + +Catherine could not feel that she had deserved such an answer as +this. "Did I plan the deception?" she asked. "Did I tell the +lie?" + +Mrs. Presty was not in the least offended. "You are comparatively +innocent, my dear," she admitted, with an air of satirical +indulgence. "You only consented to the deception, and profited by +the lie. Suppose we own the truth? You are afraid." + +Catherine owned the truth in the plainest terms: + +"Yes, I _am_ afraid." + +"And you leave it to me?" + +"I leave it to you." + +Mrs. Presty complacently closed her book. "I was quite prepared +to hear it," she said; "all the unpleasant complications since +your Divorce--and Heaven only knows how many of them have +presented themselves--have been left for me to unravel. It so +happens--though I was too modest to mention it prematurely--that +I have unraveled _this_ complication. If one only has eyes to see +it, there is a way out of every difficulty that can possibly +happen." She pushed the book that she had been reading across the +table to Catherine. "Turn to page two hundred and forty," she +said. "There is the way out." + +The title of the book was "Disasters at Sea"; and the page +contained the narrative of a shipwreck. On evidence apparently +irresistible, the drowning of every soul on board the lost vessel +had been taken for granted--when a remnant of the passengers and +crew had been discovered on a desert island, and had been safely +restored to their friends. Having read this record of suffering +and suspense, Catherine looked at her mother, and waited for an +explanation. + +"Don't you see it?" Mrs. Presty asked. + +"I can't say that I do." + +The old lady's excellent temper was not in the least ruffled, +even by this. + +"Quite inexcusable on my part," she acknowledged; "I ought to +have remembered that you don't inherit your mother's vivid +imagination. Age has left me in full possession of those powers +of invention which used to amaze your poor father. He wondered +how it was that I never wrote a novel. Mr. Presty's appreciation +of my intellect was equally sincere; but he took a different +view. 'Beware, my dear,' he said, 'of trifling with the +distinction which you now enjoy: you are one of the most +remarkable women in England--you have never written a novel.' +Pardon me; I am wandering into the region of literary anecdote, +when I ought to explain myself. Now pray attend to this:--I +propose to tell Kitty that I have found a book which is sure to +interest her; and I shall direct her attention to the lamentable +story which you have just read. She is quite sharp enough (there +are sparks of my intellectual fire in Kitty) to ask if the +friends of the poor shipwrecked people were not very much +surprised to see them again. To this I shall answer: 'Very much, +indeed, for their friends thought they were dead.' Ah, you dear +dull child, you see it now!" + +Catherine saw it so plainly that she was eager to put the first +part of the experiment to an immediate trial. + +Kitty was sent for, and made her appearance with a fishing-rod +over her shoulder. "I'm going to the brook," she announced; +"expect some fish for dinner to-day." + +A wary old hand stopped Catherine, in the act of presenting +"Disasters at Sea," to Kitty's notice; and a voice, distinguished +by insinuating kindness, said to the child: "When you have done +fishing, my dear, come to me; I have got a nice book for you to +read.--How very absurd of you, Catherine," Mrs. Presty continued, +when they were alone again, "to expect the child to read, and +draw her own conclusions, while her head is full of fishing! If +there are any fish in the brook, _she_ won't catch them. When she +comes back disappointed and says: 'What am I to do now?' the +'Disasters at Sea' will have a chance. I make it a rule never to +boast; but if there is a thing that I understand, it's the +management of children. Why didn't I have a large family?" + +Attended by the faithful Susan, Kitty baited her hook, and began +to fish where the waters of the brook were overshadowed by trees. + +A little arbor covered by a thatched roof, and having walls of +wooden lattice-work, hidden by creepers climbing over them inside +and out, offered an attractive place of rest on this sheltered +side of the garden. Having brought her work with her, the +nursemaid retired to the summer-house and diligently plied her +needle, looking at Kitty from time to time through the open door. +The air was delightfully cool, the pleasant rippling of the brook +fell soothingly on the ear, the seat in the summer-house received +a sitter with the softly-yielding submission of elastic wires. +Susan had just finished her early dinner: in mind and body alike, +this good girl was entirely and deservedly at her ease. By finely +succeeding degrees, her eyelids began to show a tendency +downward; her truant needle-work escaped from her fingers, and +lay lazily on her lap. She snatched it up with a start, and sewed +with severe resolution until her thread was exhausted. The reel +was ready at her side; she took it up for a fresh supply, and +innocently rested her head against the leafy and flowery wall of +the arbor. Was it thought that gradually closed her eyes again? +or was it sleep? In either case, Susan was lost to all sense of +passing events; and Susan's breathing became musically regular, +emulous of the musical regularity of the brook. + +As a lesson in patience, the art of angling pursued in a shallow +brook has its moral uses. Kitty fished, and waited, and renewed +the bait and tried again, with a command of temper which would +have been a novelty in Susan's experience, if Susan had been +awake. But the end which comes to all things came also to Kitty's +patience. Leaving her rod on the bank, she let the line and hook +take care of themselves, and wandered away in search of some new +amusement. + +Lingering here and there to gather flowers from the beds as she +passed them, Kitty was stopped by a shrubbery, with a rustic seat +placed near it, which marked the limits of the garden on that +side. The path that she had been following led her further and +further away from the brook, but still left it well in view. She +could see, on her right hand, the clumsy old wooden bridge which +crossed the stream, and served as a means of communication for +the servants and the tradespeople, between the cottage and the +village on the lower ground a mile away. + +The child felt hot and tired. She rested herself on the bench, +and, spreading the flowers by her side, began to arrange them in +the form of a nosegay. Still true to her love for Sydney, she had +planned to present the nosegay to her mother, offering the gift +as an excuse for returning to the forbidden subject of her +governess, and for asking when they might hope to see each other +again. + +Choosing flowers and then rejecting them, trying other colors and +wondering whether she had accomplished a change for the better, +Kitty was startled by the sound of a voice calling to her from +the direction of the brook. + +She looked round, and saw a gentleman crossing the bridge. He +asked the way to Brightwater Cottage. + +There was something in his voice that attracted her--how or why, +at her age, she never thought of inquiring. Eager and excited, +she ran across the lawn which lay between her and the brook, +before she answered the gentleman's question. + +As they approached each other, his eyes sparkled, his face +flushed; he cried out joyfully, "Here she is!"--and then changed +again in an instant. A horrid pallor overspread his face as the +child stood looking at him with innocent curiosity. He startled +Kitty, not because he seemed to be shocked and distressed, she +hardly noticed that; but because he was so like--although he was +thinner and paler and older--oh, so like her lost father! + +"This is the cottage, sir," she said faintly. + +His sorrowful eyes rested kindly on her. And yet, it seemed as if +she had in some way disappointed him. The child ventured to say: +"Do you know me, sir?" + +He answered in the saddest voice that Kitty had ever heard: "My +little girl, what makes you think I know you?" + +She was at a loss how to reply, fearing to distress him. She +could only say: "You are so like my poor papa." + +He shook and shuddered, as if she had said something to frighten +him. He took her hand. On that hot day, his fingers felt as cold +as if it had been winter time. He led her back to the seat that +she had left. "I'm tired, my dear," he said. "Shall we sit down?" +It was surely true that he was tired. He seemed hardly able to +lift one foot after the other; Kitty pitied him. "I think you +must be ill;" she said, as they took their places, side by side, +on the bench. + +"No; not ill. Only weary, and perhaps a little afraid of +frightening you." He kept her hand in his hand, and patted it +from time to time. "My dear, why did you say '_poor_ papa,' when +you spoke of your father just now?" + +"My father is dead, sir." + +He turned his face away from her, and pressed both hands on his +breast, as if he had felt some dreadful pain there, and was +trying to hide it. But he mastered the pain; and he said a +strange thing to her--very gently, but still it was strange. He +wished to know who had told her that her father was dead. + +"Grandmamma told me." + +"Do you remember what grandmamma said?" + +"Yes--she told me papa was drowned at sea." + +He said something to himself, and said it twice over. "Not her +mother! Thank God, not her mother!" What did he mean? + +Kitty looked and looked at him, and wondered and wondered. He put +his arm round her. "Come near to me," he said. "Don't be afraid +of me, my dear." She moved nearer and showed him that she was not +afraid. The poor man seemed hardly to understand her. His eyes +grew dim; he sighed like a person in distress; he said: "Your +father would have kissed you, little one, if he had been alive. +You say I am like your father. May I kiss you?" + +She put her hands on his shoulder and lifted her face to him. In +the instant when he kissed her, the child knew him. Her heart +beat suddenly with an overpowering delight; she started back from +his embrace. "That's how papa used to kiss me!" she cried. "Oh! +you _are_ papa! Not drowned! not drowned!" She flung her arms +round his neck, and held him as if she would never let him go +again. "Dear papa! Poor lost papa!" His tears fell on her face; +he sobbed over her. "My sweet darling! my own little Kitty!" + +The hysterical passion that had overcome her father filled her +with piteous surprise. How strange, how dreadful that he should +cry--that he should be so sorry when she was so glad! She took +her little handkerchief out of the pocket of her pinafore, and +dried his eyes. "Are you thinking of the cruel sea, papa? No! the +good sea, the kind, bright, beautiful sea that has given you back +to me, and to mamma--!" + +They had forgotten her mother!--and Kitty only discovered it now. +She caught at one of her father's hands hanging helpless at his +side, and pulled at it as if her little strength could force him +to his feet. "Come," she cried, "and make mamma as happy as I +am!" + +He hesitated. She sprang on his knee; she pressed her cheek +against his cheek with the caressing tenderness, familiar to him +in the first happy days when she was an infant. "Oh, papa, are +you going to be unkind to me for the first time in your life?" + +His momentary resistance was at an end. He was as weak in her +hands now as if he had been the child and she had been the man. + +Laughing and singing and dancing round him, Kitty led the way to +the window of the room that opened on the garden. Some one had +closed it on the inner side. She tapped impatiently at the glass. +Her mother heard the tapping; her mother came to the window; her +mother ran out to meet them. Since the miserable time when they +left Mount Morven, since the long unnatural separation of the +parents and the child, those three were together once more! + + + +AFTER THE STORY + + + +1.--The Lawyer's Apology. + + +That a woman of my wife's mature years should be jealous of one +of the most exemplary husbands that the records of matrimony can +produce is, to say the least of it, a discouraging circumstance. +A man forgets that virtue is its own reward, and asks, What is +the use of conjugal fidelity? + +However, the motto of married life is (or ought to be): Peace at +any price. I have been this day relieved from the condition of +secrecy that has been imposed on me. You insisted on an +explanation some time since. Here it is at last. + +For the ten-thousandth time, my dear, in our joint lives, you are +again right. That letter, marked private, which I received at the +domestic tea-table, was what you positively declared it to be, a +letter from a lady--a charming lady, plunged in the deepest +perplexity. We had been well known to each other for many years, +as lawyer and client. She wanted advice on this occasion +also--and wanted it in the strictest confidence. Was it +consistent with my professional duty to show her letter to my +wife? Mrs. Sarrazin says Yes; Mrs. Sarrazin's husband says No. + +Let me add that the lady was a person of unblemished reputation, +and that she was placed in a false position through no fault of +her own. In plain English, she was divorced. Ah, my dear (to +speak in the vivid language of the people), do you smell a rat? + +Yes: my client was Mrs. Norman; and to her pretty cottage in the +country I betook myself the next day. There I found my excellent +friend Randal Linley, present by special invitation. + +Stop a minute. Why do I write all this, instead of explaining +myself by word of mouth? My love, you are a member of an old and +illustrious family; you honored me when you married me; and you +have (as your father told me on our wedding day) the high and +haughty temper of your race. I foresee an explosion of this +temper, and I would rather have my writing-paper blown up than be +blown up myself. + +Is this a cowardly confession on my part? All courage, Mrs. +Sarrazin, is relative; the bravest man living has a cowardly side +to his character, though it may not always be found out. Some +years ago, at a public dinner, I sat next to an officer in the +British army. At one time in his life he had led a forlorn hope. +At another time, he had picked up a wounded soldier, and had +carried him to the care of the surgeons through a hail-storm of +the enemy's bullets. Hot courage and cool courage, this true hero +possessed both. _I_ saw the cowardly side of his character. He +lost his color; perspiration broke out on his forehead; he +trembled; he talked nonsense; he was frightened out of his wits. +And all for what? Because he had to get on his legs and make a +speech! + +Well: Mrs. Norman, and Randal Linley, and I, sat down to our +consultation at the cottage. + +What did my fair client want? + +She contemplated marrying for the second time, and she wanted my +advice as a lawyer, and my encouragement as an old friend. I was +quite ready; I only waited for particulars. Mrs. Norman became +dreadfully embarrassed, and said: "I refer you to my +brother-in-law." + +I looked at Randal. "Once her brother-in-law, no doubt," I said; +"but after the Divorce--" My friend stopped me there. "After the +Divorce," he remarked, "I may be her brother-in-law again." + +If this meant anything, it meant that she was actually going to +marry Herbert Linley again. This was too ridiculous. "If it's a +joke," I said, "I have heard better fun in my time. If it's only +an assertion, I don't believe it." + +"Why not?" Randal asked. + +"Saying I do want you, in one breath--and I don't want you, in +another--seems to be a little hard on Divorce," I ventured to +suggest. + +"Don't expect _me_ to sympathize with Divorce," Randal said. + +I answered that smartly. "No; I'll wait till you are married." + +He took it seriously. "Don't misunderstand me," he replied. +"Where there is absolute cruelty, or where there is deliberate +desertion, on the husband's part, I see the use and the reason +for Divorce. If the unhappy wife can find an honorable man who +will protect her, or an honorable man who will offer her a home, +Society and Law, which are responsible for the institution of +marriage, are bound to allow a woman outraged under the shelter +of their institution to marry again. But, where the husband's +fault is sexual frailty, I say the English law which refuses +Divorce on that ground alone is right, and the Scotch law which +grants it is wrong. Religion, which rightly condemns the sin, +pardons it on the condition of true penitence. Why is a wife not +to pardon it for the same reason? Why are the lives of a father, +a mother, and a child to be wrecked, when those lives may be +saved by the exercise of the first of Christian +virtues--forgiveness of injuries? In such a case as this I regret +that Divorce exists; and I rejoice when husband and wife and +child are one flesh again, re-united by the law of Nature, which +is the law of God." + +I might have disputed with him; but I thought he was right. I +also wanted to make sure of the facts. "Am I really to +understand," I asked, "that Mr. Herbert Linley is to be this +lady's husband for the second time?" + +"If there is no lawful objection to it," Randal said--"decidedly +Yes." + +My good wife, in all your experience you never saw your husband +stare as he stared at that moment. Here was a lady divorced by +her own lawful desire and at her own personal expense, thinking +better of it after no very long interval, and proposing to marry +the man again. Was there ever anything so grossly improbable? +Where is the novelist who would be bold enough to invent such an +incident as this? + +Never mind the novelist. How did it end? + +Of course it could only end in one way, so far as I was +concerned. The case being without precedent in my experience, I +dropped my professional character at the outset. Speaking next as +a friend, I had only to say to Mrs. Norman: "The Law has declared +you and Mr. Herbert Linley to be single people. Do what other +single people do. Buy a license, and give notice at a church--and +by all means send wedding cards to the judge who divorced you." + +Said; and, in another fortnight, done. Mr. and Mrs. Herbert +Linley were married again this morning; and Randal and I were the +only witnesses present at the ceremony, which was strictly +private. + + + +2.--The Lawyer's Defense. + + + +I wonder whether the foregoing pages of my writing-paper have +been torn to pieces and thrown into the waste-paper basket? You +wouldn't litter the carpet. No. I may be torn in pieces, but I do +you justice for all that. + +What are the objections to the divorced husband and wife becoming +husband and wife again? Mrs. Presty has stated them in the +following order. Am I wrong in assuming that, on this occasion at +least, you will agree with Mrs. Presty? + +First Objection: Nobody has ever done such a thing before. + +Second Objection: Penitent or not penitent, Mr. Herbert Linley +doesn't deserve it. + +Third Objection: No respectable person will visit them. + +First Reply: The question is not whether the thing has been done +before, but whether the doing of the thing is right in itself +There is no clause in the marriage service forbidding a wife to +forgive her husband; but there is a direct prohibition to any +separation between them. It is, therefore, not wrong to forgive +Mr. Herbert Linley, and it is absolutely right to marry him +again. + +Second Reply: When their child brings him home, and takes it for +granted that her father and mother should live together, +_because_ they are her father and mother, innocent Kitty has +appealed from the Law of Divorce to the Law of Nature. Whether +Herbert Linley has deserved it or whether he has not, there he is +in the only fit place for him--and there is an end of the second +objection. + +Third Reply: A flat contradiction to the assertion that no +respectable person will visit her. Mrs. Sarrazin will visit her. +Yes, you will, my dear! Not because I insist upon it--Do I ever +insist on anything? No; you will act on your own responsibility, +out of compassion for a misguided old woman. Judge for yourself +when you read what follows, if Mrs. Presty is not sadly in need +of the good example of an ornament to her sex. + +The Evil Genius of the family joined us in the cottage parlor +when our consultations had come to an end. I had the honor of +communicating the decision at which we had arrived. Mrs. Presty +marched to the door; and, from that commanding position, +addressed a few farewell remarks to her daughter. + +"I have done with you, Catherine. You have reached the limits of +my maternal endurance at last. I shall set up my own +establishment, and live again--in memory--with Mr. Norman and Mr. +Presty. May you be happy. I don't anticipate it." + +She left the room--and came back again for a last word, addressed +this time to Randal Linley. + +"When you next see your friend, Captain Bennydeck, give him my +compliments, Mr. Randal, and say I congratulate him on having +been jilted by my daughter. It would have been a sad thing, +indeed, if such a sensible man had married an idiot. +Good-morning." + +She left the room again, and came back again for another last +word, addressed on this occasion to me. Her better nature made an +effort to express itself, not altogether without success. + +"I think it is quite likely, Mr. Sarrazin, that some dreadful +misfortune will fall on my daughter, as the punishment of her +undutiful disregard of her mother's objections. In that case, I +shall feel it my duty to return and administer maternal +consolation. When you write, address me at my banker's. I make +allowances for a lawyer, sir; I don't blame You." + +She opened the door for the third time--stepped out, and stepped +back again into the room--suddenly gave her daughter a fierce +kiss--returned to the door--shook her fist at Mrs. Linley with a +theatrically-threatening gesture--said, "Unnatural child!"--and, +after this exhibition of her better nature, and her worse, left +us at last. When you visit the remarried pair on their return +from their second honeymoon, take Mrs. Presty with you. + + + +3.--The Lawyer's Last Word. + + +"When you force this ridiculous and regrettable affair on my +attention" (I think I hear Mrs. Sarrazin say), "the least you can +do is to make your narrative complete. But perhaps you propose to +tell me personally what has become of Kitty, and what +well-deserved retribution has overtaken Miss Westerfield." + +No: I propose in this case also to communicate my information in +writing--at the safe distance from home of Lincoln's Inn Fields. + +Kitty accompanies her father and mother to the Continent, of +course. But she insisted on first saying good-by to the dear +friend, once the dear governess, whom she loves. Randal and I +volunteered to take her (with her mother's ready permission) to +see Miss Westerfield. Try not to be angry. Try not to tear me up. + +We found Captain Bennydeck and his pretty secretary enjoying a +little rest and refreshment, after a long morning's work for the +good of the Home. The Captain was carving the chicken; and +Sydney, by his side, was making the salad. The house-cat occupied +a third chair, with her eyes immovably fixed on the movements of +the knife and fork. Perhaps I was thinking of sad past days. +Anyway, it seemed to me to be as pretty a domestic scene as a man +could wish to look at. The arrival of Kitty made the picture +complete. + +Our visit was necessarily limited by a due remembrance of the +hour of departure, by an early tidal train. Kitty's last words to +Sydney bade her bear their next meeting in mind, and not be +melancholy at only saying good-by for a time. Like all children, +she asks strange questions. When we were out in the street again, +she said to her uncle: "Do you think my nice Captain will marry +Syd?" + +Randal had noticed, in Captain Bennydeck's face, signs which +betrayed that the bitterest disappointment of his life was far +from being a forgotten disappointment yet. If it had been put by +any other person, poor Kitty's absurd question might have met +with a bitter reply. As it was, her uncle only said: "My dear +child, that is no business of yours or mine." + +Not in the least discouraged, Kitty turned to me. "What do _you_ +think, Samuel?" + +I followed Randal's lead, and answered, "How should I know?" + +The child looked from one to the other of us. "Shall I tell you +what I think?" she said, "I think you are both of you humbugs." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext of The Evil Genius, by Wilkie Collins + diff --git a/old/vlgns10.zip b/old/vlgns10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5362e17 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/vlgns10.zip |