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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:17:28 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1628-0.txt b/1628-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..03fa80d --- /dev/null +++ b/1628-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6268 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of My Lady’s Money, by Wilkie Collins + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: My Lady’s Money + +Author: Wilkie Collins + +Release Date: March 21, 2006 [EBook #1628] +Last Updated: September 13, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY LADY’S MONEY *** + + + + +Produced by James Rusk and David Widger + + + + + +MY LADY’S MONEY + +by Wilkie Collins + + + + +AN EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF A YOUNG GIRL + +PERSONS OF THE STORY + + +Women: + + +Lady Lydiard (Widow of Lord Lydiard) + +Isabel Miller (her Adopted Daughter) + +Miss Pink (of South Morden) + +The Hon. Mrs. Drumblade (Sister to the Hon. A. Hardyman) + + +Men + +The Hon. Alfred Hardyman (of the Stud Farm) + +Mr. Felix Sweetsir (Lady Lydiard’s Nephew) + +Robert Moody (Lady Lydiard’s Steward) + +Mr. Troy (Lady Lydiard’s Lawyer) + +Old Sharon (in the Byways of Legal Bohemia) + + +Animal + +Tommie (Lady Lydiard’s Dog) + + + + +PART THE FIRST. + +THE DISAPPEARANCE. + + + +CHAPTER I. + +OLD Lady Lydiard sat meditating by the fireside, with three letters +lying open on her lap. + +Time had discolored the paper, and had turned the ink to a brownish hue. +The letters were all addressed to the same person--“THE RT. HON. LORD +LYDIARD”--and were all signed in the same way--“Your affectionate +cousin, James Tollmidge.” Judged by these specimens of his +correspondence, Mr. Tollmidge must have possessed one great merit as a +letter-writer--the merit of brevity. He will weary nobody’s patience, +if he is allowed to have a hearing. Let him, therefore, be permitted, in +his own high-flown way, to speak for himself. + +_First Letter._--“My statement, as your Lordship requests, shall be +short and to the point. I was doing very well as a portrait-painter +in the country; and I had a wife and children to consider. Under +the circumstances, if I had been left to decide for myself, I should +certainly have waited until I had saved a little money before I ventured +on the serious expense of taking a house and studio at the west end of +London. Your Lordship, I positively declare, encouraged me to try the +experiment without waiting. And here I am, unknown and unemployed, a +helpless artist lost in London--with a sick wife and hungry children, +and bankruptcy staring me in the face. On whose shoulders does this +dreadful responsibility rest? On your Lordship’s!” + +_Second Letter._--“After a week’s delay, you favor me, my Lord, with a +curt reply. I can be equally curt on my side. I indignantly deny that +I or my wife ever presumed to see your Lordship’s name as a means +of recommendation to sitters without your permission. Some enemy has +slandered us. I claim as my right to know the name of that enemy.” + +_Third (and last) Letter._--“Another week has passed--and not a word +of answer has reached me from your Lordship. It matters little. I have +employed the interval in making inquiries, and I have at last discovered +the hostile influence which has estranged you from me. I have been, it +seems, so unfortunate as to offend Lady Lydiard (how, I cannot imagine); +and the all-powerful influence of this noble lady is now used against +the struggling artist who is united to you by the sacred ties of +kindred. Be it so. I can fight my way upwards, my Lord, as other men +have done before me. A day may yet come when the throng of carriages +waiting at the door of the fashionable portrait-painter will include her +Ladyship’s vehicle, and bring me the tardy expression of her Ladyship’s +regret. I refer you, my Lord Lydiard, to that day!” + +Having read Mr. Tollmidge’s formidable assertions relating to herself +for the second time, Lady Lydiard’s meditations came to an abrupt end. +She rose, took the letters in both hands to tear them up, hesitated, and +threw them back in the cabinet drawer in which she had discovered them, +among other papers that had not been arranged since Lord Lydiard’s +death. + +“The idiot!” said her Ladyship, thinking of Mr. Tollmidge, “I never even +heard of him, in my husband’s lifetime; I never even knew that he was +really related to Lord Lydiard, till I found his letters. What is to be +done next?” + +She looked, as she put that question to herself, at an open newspaper +thrown on the table, which announced the death of “that accomplished +artist Mr. Tollmidge, related, it is said, to the late well-known +connoisseur, Lord Lydiard.” In the next sentence the writer of the +obituary notice deplored the destitute condition of Mrs. Tollmidge and +her children, “thrown helpless on the mercy of the world.” Lady Lydiard +stood by the table with her eyes on those lines, and saw but too plainly +the direction in which they pointed--the direction of her check-book. + +Turning towards the fireplace, she rang the bell. “I can do nothing in +this matter,” she thought to herself, “until I know whether the report +about Mrs. Tollmidge and her family is to be depended on. Has Moody +come back?” she asked, when the servant appeared at the door. “Moody” + (otherwise her Ladyship’s steward) had not come back. Lady Lydiard +dismissed the subject of the artist’s widow from further consideration +until the steward returned, and gave her mind to a question of domestic +interest which lay nearer to her heart. Her favorite dog had been ailing +for some time past, and no report of him had reached her that morning. +She opened a door near the fireplace, which led, through a little +corridor hung with rare prints, to her own boudoir. “Isabel!” she called +out, “how is Tommie?” + +A fresh young voice answered from behind the curtain which closed the +further end of the corridor, “No better, my Lady.” + +A low growl followed the fresh young voice, and added (in dog’s +language), “Much worse, my Lady--much worse!” + +Lady Lydiard closed the door again, with a compassionate sigh for +Tommie, and walked slowly to and fro in her spacious drawing-room, +waiting for the steward’s return. + +Accurately described, Lord Lydiard’s widow was short and fat, and, in +the matter of age, perilously near her sixtieth birthday. But it may be +said, without paying a compliment, that she looked younger than her age +by ten years at least. Her complexion was of that delicate pink tinge +which is sometimes seen in old women with well-preserved constitutions. +Her eyes (equally well preserved) were of that hard light blue color +which wears well, and does not wash out when tried by the test of +tears. Add to this her short nose, her plump cheeks that set wrinkles at +defiance, her white hair dressed in stiff little curls; and, if a doll +could grow old, Lady Lydiard, at sixty, would have been the living +image of that doll, taking life easily on its journey downwards to the +prettiest of tombs, in a burial-ground where the myrtles and roses grew +all the year round. + +These being her Ladyship’s personal merits, impartial history must +acknowledge, on the list of her defects, a total want of tact and taste +in her attire. The lapse of time since Lord Lydiard’s death had left her +at liberty to dress as she pleased. She arrayed her short, clumsy figure +in colors that were far too bright for a woman of her age. Her dresses, +badly chosen as to their hues, were perhaps not badly made, but were +certainly badly worn. Morally, as well as physically, it must be said of +Lady Lydiard that her outward side was her worst side. The anomalies +of her dress were matched by the anomalies of her character. There were +moments when she felt and spoke as became a lady of rank; and there were +other moments when she felt and spoke as might have become the cook in +the kitchen. Beneath these superficial inconsistencies, the great heart, +the essentially true and generous nature of the woman, only waited the +sufficient occasion to assert themselves. In the trivial intercourse +of society she was open to ridicule on every side of her. But when a +serious emergency tried the metal of which she was really made, the +people who were loudest in laughing at her stood aghast, and wondered +what had become of the familiar companion of their everyday lives. + +Her Ladyship’s promenade had lasted but a little while, when a man in +black clothing presented himself noiselessly at the great door which +opened on the staircase. Lady Lydiard signed to him impatiently to enter +the room. + +“I have been expecting you for some time, Moody,” she said. “You look +tired. Take a chair.” + +The man in black bowed respectfully, and took his seat. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +ROBERT MOODY was at this time nearly forty years of age. He was a +shy, quiet, dark person, with a pale, closely-shaven face, agreeably +animated by large black eyes, set deep in their orbits. His mouth was +perhaps his best feature; he had firm, well-shaped lips, which softened +on rare occasions into a particularly winning smile. The whole look of +the man, in spite of his habitual reserve, declared him to be eminently +trustworthy. His position in Lady Lydiard’s household was in no sense +of the menial sort. He acted as her almoner and secretary as well as her +steward--distributed her charities, wrote her letters on business, paid +her bills, engaged her servants, stocked her wine-cellar, was authorized +to borrow books from her library, and was served with his meals in his +own room. His parentage gave him claims to these special favors; he was +by birth entitled to rank as a gentleman. His father had failed at a +time of commercial panic as a country banker, had paid a good dividend, +and had died in exile abroad a broken-hearted man. Robert had tried +to hold his place in the world, but adverse fortune kept him down. +Undeserved disaster followed him from one employment to another, until +he abandoned the struggle, bade a last farewell to the pride of other +days, and accepted the position considerately and delicately offered to +him in Lady Lydiard’s house. He had now no near relations living, and +he had never made many friends. In the intervals of occupation he led a +lonely life in his little room. It was a matter of secret wonder among +the women in the servants’ hall, considering his personal advantages and +the opportunities which must surely have been thrown in his way, that +he had never tempted fortune in the character of a married man. Robert +Moody entered into no explanations on that subject. In his own sad and +quiet way he continued to lead his own sad and quiet life. The women all +failing, from the handsome housekeeper downward, to make the smallest +impression on him, consoled themselves by prophetic visions of his +future relations with the sex, and predicted vindictively that “his time +would come.” + +“Well,” said Lady Lydiard, “and what have you done?” + +“Your Ladyship seemed to be anxious about the dog,” Moody answered, in +the low tone which was habitual to him. “I went first to the veterinary +surgeon. He had been called away into the country; and--” + +Lady Lydiard waved away the conclusion of the sentence with her hand. +“Never mind the surgeon. We must find somebody else. Where did you go +next?” + +“To your Ladyship’s lawyer. Mr. Troy wished me to say that he will have +the honor of waiting on you--” + +“Pass over the lawyer, Moody. I want to know about the painter’s widow. +Is it true that Mrs. Tollmidge and her family are left in helpless +poverty?” + +“Not quite true, my Lady. I have seen the clergyman of the parish, who +takes an interest in the case--” + +Lady Lydiard interrupted her steward for the third time. “Did you +mention my name?” she asked sharply. + +“Certainly not, my Lady. I followed my instructions, and described you +as a benevolent person in search of cases of real distress. It is quite +true that Mr. Tollmidge has died, leaving nothing to his family. But the +widow has a little income of seventy pounds in her own right.” + +“Is that enough to live on, Moody?” her Ladyship asked. + +“Enough, in this case, for the widow and her daughter,” Moody answered. +“The difficulty is to pay the few debts left standing, and to start the +two sons in life. They are reported to be steady lads; and the family is +much respected in the neighborhood. The clergyman proposes to get a few +influential names to begin with, and to start a subscription.” + +“No subscription!” protested Lady Lydiard. “Mr. Tollmidge was Lord +Lydiard’s cousin; and Mrs. Tollmidge is related to his Lordship by +marriage. It would be degrading to my husband’s memory to have the +begging-box sent round for his relations, no matter how distant they may +be. Cousins!” exclaimed her Ladyship, suddenly descending from the lofty +ranges of sentiment to the low. “I hate the very name of them! A person +who is near enough to me to be my relation and far enough off from me +to be my sweetheart, is a double-faced sort of person that I don’t like. +Let’s get back to the widow and her sons. How much do they want?” + +“A subscription of five hundred pounds, my Lady, would provide for +everything--if it could only be collected.” + +“It _shall_ be collected, Moody! I will pay the subscription out of my +own purse.” Having asserted herself in those noble terms, she spoilt the +effect of her own outburst of generosity by dropping to the sordid view +of the subject in her next sentence. “Five hundred pounds is a good bit +of money, though; isn’t it, Moody?” + +“It is, indeed, my Lady.” Rich and generous as he knew his mistress +to be, her proposal to pay the whole subscription took the steward by +surprise. Lady Lydiard’s quick perception instantly detected what was +passing in his mind. + +“You don’t quite understand my position in this matter,” she said. “When +I read the newspaper notice of Mr. Tollmidge’s death, I searched among +his Lordship’s papers to see if they really were related. I discovered +some letters from Mr. Tollmidge, which showed me that he and Lord +Lydiard were cousins. One of those letters contains some very painful +statements, reflecting most untruly and unjustly on my conduct; lies, +in short,” her Ladyship burst out, losing her dignity, as usual. “Lies, +Moody, for which Mr. Tollmidge deserved to be horsewhipped. I would have +done it myself if his Lordship had told me at the time. No matter; it’s +useless to dwell on the thing now,” she continued, ascending again to +the forms of expression which became a lady of rank. “This unhappy man +has done me a gross injustice; my motives may be seriously misjudged, if +I appear personally in communicating with his family. If I relieve them +anonymously in their present trouble, I spare them the exposure of a +public subscription, and I do what I believe his Lordship would have +done himself if he had lived. My desk is on the other table. Bring it +here, Moody; and let me return good for evil, while I’m in the humor for +it!” + +Moody obeyed in silence. Lady Lydiard wrote a check. + +“Take that to the banker’s, and bring back a five-hundred pound note,” + she said. “I’ll inclose it to the clergyman as coming from ‘an unknown +friend.’ And be quick about it. I am only a fallible mortal, Moody. +Don’t leave me time enough to take the stingy view of five hundred +pounds.” + +Moody went out with the check. No delay was to be apprehended in +obtaining the money; the banking-house was hard by, in St. James’s +Street. Left alone, Lady Lydiard decided on occupying her mind in the +generous direction by composing her anonymous letter to the clergyman. +She had just taken a sheet of note-paper from her desk, when a servant +appeared at the door announcing a visitor-- + +“Mr. Felix Sweetsir!” + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +“MY nephew!” Lady Lydiard exclaimed in a tone which expressed +astonishment, but certainly not pleasure as well. “How many years is it +since you and I last met?” she asked, in her abruptly straightforward +way, as Mr. Felix Sweetsir approached her writing-table. + +The visitor was not a person easily discouraged. He took Lady Lydiard’s +hand, and kissed it with easy grace. A shade of irony was in his manner, +agreeably relieved by a playful flash of tenderness. + +“Years, my dear aunt?” he said. “Look in your glass and you will see +that time has stood still since we met last. How wonderfully well you +wear! When shall we celebrate the appearance of your first wrinkle? I am +too old; I shall never live to see it.” + +He took an easychair, uninvited; placed himself close at his aunt’s +side, and ran his eye over her ill-chosen dress with an air of satirical +admiration. “How perfectly successful!” he said, with his well-bred +insolence. “What a chaste gayety of color!” + +“What do you want?” asked her Ladyship, not in the least softened by the +compliment. + +“I want to pay my respects to my dear aunt,” Felix answered, perfectly +impenetrable to his ungracious reception, and perfectly comfortable in a +spacious arm-chair. + +No pen-and-ink portrait need surely be drawn of Felix Sweetsir--he is +too well-known a picture in society. The little lithe man, with his +bright, restless eyes, and his long iron-gray hair falling in curls to +his shoulders, his airy step and his cordial manner; his uncertain age, +his innumerable accomplishments, and his unbounded popularity--is he not +familiar everywhere, and welcome everywhere? How gratefully he receives, +how prodigally he repays, the cordial appreciation of an admiring +world! Every man he knows is “a charming fellow.” Every woman he sees +is “sweetly pretty.” What picnics he gives on the banks of the Thames in +the summer season! What a well-earned little income he derives from the +whist-table! What an inestimable actor he is at private theatricals +of all sorts (weddings included)! Did you never read Sweetsir’s novel, +dashed off in the intervals of curative perspiration at a German bath? +Then you don’t know what brilliant fiction really is. He has never +written a second work; he does everything, and only does it once. One +song--the despair of professional composers. One picture--just to show +how easily a gentleman can take up an art and drop it again. A +really multiform man, with all the graces and all the accomplishments +scintillating perpetually at his fingers’ ends. If these poor pages +have achieved nothing else, they have done a service to persons not +in society by presenting them to Sweetsir. In his gracious company +the narrative brightens; and writer and reader (catching reflected +brilliancy) understand each other at last, thanks to Sweetsir. + +“Well,” said Lady Lydiard, “now you are here, what have you got to say +for yourself? You have been abroad, of course! Where?” + +“Principally at Paris, my dear aunt. The only place that is fit to live +in--for this excellent reason, that the French are the only people who +know how to make the most of life. One has relations and friends in +England and every now and then one returns to London--” + +“When one has spent all one’s money in Paris,” her Ladyship interposed. +“That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?” + +Felix submitted to the interruption with his delightful good-humor. + +“What a bright creature you are!” he exclaimed. “What would I not give +for your flow of spirits! Yes--one does spend money in Paris, as you +say. The clubs, the stock exchange, the race-course: you try your luck +here, there, and everywhere; and you lose and win, win and lose--and you +haven’t a dull day to complain of.” He paused, his smile died away, he +looked inquiringly at Lady Lydiard. “What a wonderful existence +yours must be,” he resumed. “The everlasting question with your needy +fellow-creatures, ‘Where am I to get money?’ is a question that has +never passed your lips. Enviable woman!” He paused once more--surprised +and puzzled this time. “What is the matter, my dear aunt? You seem to be +suffering under some uneasiness.” + +“I am suffering under your conversation,” her Ladyship answered sharply. +“Money is a sore subject with me just now,” she went on, with her eyes +on her nephew, watching the effect of what she said. “I have spent five +hundred pounds this morning with a scrape of my pen. And, only a +week since, I yielded to temptation and made an addition to my +picture-gallery.” She looked, as she said those words, towards an +archway at the further end of the room, closed by curtains of purple +velvet. “I really tremble when I think of what that one picture cost me +before I could call it mine. A landscape by Hobbema; and the National +Gallery bidding against me. Never mind!” she concluded, consoling +herself, as usual, with considerations that were beneath her. “Hobbema +will sell at my death for a bigger price than I gave for him--that’s one +comfort!” She looked again at Felix; a smile of mischievous +satisfaction began to show itself in her face. “Anything wrong with your +watch-chain?” she asked. + +Felix, absently playing with his watch-chain, started as if his aunt +had suddenly awakened him. While Lady Lydiard had been speaking, his +vivacity had subsided little by little, and had left him looking so +serious and so old that his most intimate friend would hardly have known +him again. Roused by the sudden question that had been put to him, he +seemed to be casting about in his mind in search of the first excuse for +his silence that might turn up. + +“I was wondering,” he began, “why I miss something when I look round +this beautiful room; something familiar, you know, that I fully expected +to find here.” + +“Tommie?” suggested Lady Lydiard, still watching her nephew as +maliciously as ever. + +“That’s it!” cried Felix, seizing his excuse, and rallying his spirits. +“Why don’t I hear Tommie snarling behind me; why don’t I feel Tommie’s +teeth in my trousers?” + +The smile vanished from Lady Lydiard’s face; the tone taken by her +nephew in speaking of her dog was disrespectful in the extreme. +She showed him plainly that she disapproved of it. Felix went on, +nevertheless, impenetrable to reproof of the silent sort. “Dear little +Tommie! So delightfully fat; and such an infernal temper! I don’t know +whether I hate him or love him. Where is he?” + +“Ill in bed,” answered her ladyship, with a gravity which startled even +Felix himself. “I wish to speak to you about Tommie. You know everybody. +Do you know of a good dog-doctor? The person I have employed so far +doesn’t at all satisfy me.” + +“Professional person?” inquired Felix. + +“Yes.” + +“All humbugs, my dear aunt. The worse the dog gets the bigger the bill +grows, don’t you see? I have got the man for you--a gentleman. Knows +more about horses and dogs than all the veterinary surgeons put +together. We met in the boat yesterday crossing the Channel. You +know him by name, of course? Lord Rotherfield’s youngest son, Alfred +Hardyman.” + +“The owner of the stud farm? The man who has bred the famous +racehorses?” cried Lady Lydiard. “My dear Felix, how can I presume to +trouble such a great personage about my dog?” + +Felix burst into his genial laugh. “Never was modesty more woefully +out of place,” he rejoined. “Hardyman is dying to be presented to your +Ladyship. He has heard, like everybody, of the magnificent decorations +of this house, and he is longing to see them. His chambers are close by, +in Pall Mall. If he is at home we will have him here in five minutes. +Perhaps I had better see the dog first?” + +Lady Lydiard shook her head. “Isabel says he had better not be +disturbed,” she answered. “Isabel understands him better than anybody.” + +Felix lifted his lively eyebrows with a mixed expression of curiosity +and surprise. “Who is Isabel?” + +Lady Lydiard was vexed with herself for carelessly mentioning Isabel’s +name in her nephew’s presence. Felix was not the sort of person whom she +was desirous of admitting to her confidence in domestic matters. “Isabel +is an addition to my household since you were here last,” she answered +shortly. + +“Young and pretty?” inquired Felix. “Ah! you look serious, and you +don’t answer me. Young and pretty, evidently. Which may I see first, the +addition to your household or the addition to your picture-gallery? You +look at the picture-gallery--I am answered again.” He rose to approach +the archway, and stopped at his first step forward. “A sweet girl is a +dreadful responsibility, aunt,” he resumed, with an ironical assumption +of gravity. “Do you know, I shouldn’t be surprised if Isabel, in the +long run, cost you more than Hobbema. Who is this at the door?” + +The person at the door was Robert Moody, returned from the bank. Mr. +Felix Sweetsir, being near-sighted, was obliged to fit his eye-glass in +position before he could recognize the prime minister of Lady Lydiard’s +household. + +“Ha! our worthy Moody. How well he wears! Not a gray hair on his +head--and look at mine! What dye do you use, Moody? If he had my open +disposition he would tell. As it is, he looks unutterable things, and +holds his tongue. Ah! if I could only have held _my_ tongue--when I +was in the diplomatic service, you know--what a position I might have +occupied by this time! Don’t let me interrupt you, Moody, if you have +anything to say to Lady Lydiard.” + +Having acknowledged Mr. Sweetsir’s lively greeting by a formal bow, +and a grave look of wonder which respectfully repelled that vivacious +gentleman’s flow of humor, Moody turned towards his mistress. + +“Have you got the bank-note?” asked her Ladyship. + +Moody laid the bank-note on the table. + +“Am I in the way?” inquired Felix. + +“No,” said his aunt. “I have a letter to write; it won’t occupy me +for more than a few minutes. You can stay here, or go and look at the +Hobbema, which you please.” + +Felix made a second sauntering attempt to reach the picture-gallery. +Arrived within a few steps of the entrance, he stopped again, attracted +by an open cabinet of Italian workmanship, filled with rare old china. +Being nothing if not a cultivated amateur, Mr. Sweetsir paused to pay +his passing tribute of admiration before the contents of the cabinet. +“Charming! charming!” he said to himself, with his head twisted +appreciatively a little on one side. Lady Lydiard and Moody left him in +undisturbed enjoyment of the china, and went on with the business of the +bank-note. + +“Ought we to take the number of the note, in case of accident?” asked +her Ladyship. + +Moody produced a slip of paper from his waistcoat pocket. “I took the +number, my Lady, at the bank.” + +“Very well. You keep it. While I am writing my letter, suppose you +direct the envelope. What is the clergyman’s name?” + +Moody mentioned the name and directed the envelope. Felix, happening to +look round at Lady Lydiard and the steward while they were both engaged +in writing, returned suddenly to the table as if he had been struck by a +new idea. + +“Is there a third pen?” he asked. “Why shouldn’t I write a line at once +to Hardyman, aunt? The sooner you have his opinion about Tommie the +better--don’t you think so?” + +Lady Lydiard pointed to the pen tray, with a smile. To show +consideration for her dog was to seize irresistibly on the high-road +to her favor. Felix set to work on his letter, in a large scrambling +handwriting, with plenty of ink and a noisy pen. “I declare we are like +clerks in an office,” he remarked, in his cheery way. “All with our +noses to the paper, writing as if we lived by it! Here, Moody, let one +of the servants take this at once to Mr. Hardyman’s.” + +The messenger was despatched. Robert returned, and waited near his +mistress, with the directed envelope in his hand. Felix sauntered back +slowly towards the picture-gallery, for the third time. In a moment more +Lady Lydiard finished her letter, and folded up the bank-note in it. She +had just taken the directed envelope from Moody, and had just placed the +letter inside it, when a scream from the inner room, in which Isabel was +nursing the sick dog, startled everybody. “My Lady! my Lady!” cried the +girl, distractedly, “Tommie is in a fit? Tommie is dying!” + +Lady Lydiard dropped the unclosed envelope on the table, and ran--yes, +short as she was and fat as she was, ran--into the inner room. The two +men, left together, looked at each other. + +“Moody,” said Felix, in his lazily-cynical way, “do you think if you or +I were in a fit that her Ladyship would run? Bah! these are the things +that shake one’s faith in human nature. I feel infernally seedy. That +cursed Channel passage--I tremble in my inmost stomach when I think of +it. Get me something, Moody.” + +“What shall I send you, sir?” Moody asked coldly. + +“Some dry curacoa and a biscuit. And let it be brought to me in the +picture-gallery. Damn the dog! I’ll go and look at Hobbema.” + +This time he succeeded in reaching the archway, and disappeared behind +the curtains of the picture-gallery. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +LEFT alone in the drawing-room, Moody looked at the unfastened envelope +on the table. + +Considering the value of the inclosure, might he feel justified in +wetting the gum and securing the envelope for safety’s sake? After +thinking it over, Moody decided that he was not justified in meddling +with the letter. On reflection, her Ladyship might have changes to make +in it or might have a postscript to add to what she had already written. +Apart too, from these considerations, was it reasonable to act as if +Lady Lydiard’s house was a hotel, perpetually open to the intrusion of +strangers? Objects worth twice five hundred pounds in the aggregate were +scattered about on the tables and in the unlocked cabinets all round +him. Moody withdrew, without further hesitation, to order the light +restorative prescribed for himself by Mr. Sweetsir. + +The footman who took the curacoa into the picture gallery found Felix +recumbent on a sofa, admiring the famous Hobbema. + +“Don’t interrupt me,” he said peevishly, catching the servant in the act +of staring at him. “Put down the bottle and go!” Forbidden to look at +Mr. Sweetsir, the man’s eyes as he left the gallery turned wonderingly +towards the famous landscape. And what did he see? He saw one towering +big cloud in the sky that threatened rain, two withered mahogany-colored +trees sorely in want of rain, a muddy road greatly the worse for rain, +and a vagabond boy running home who was afraid of the rain. That was the +picture, to the footman’s eye. He took a gloomy view of the state of Mr. +Sweetsir’s brains on his return to the servants’ hall. “A slate loose, +poor devil!” That was the footman’s report of the brilliant Felix. + +Immediately on the servant’s departure, the silence in the +picture-gallery was broken by voices penetrating into it from the +drawing-room. Felix rose to a sitting position on the sofa. He had +recognized the voice of Alfred Hardyman saying, “Don’t disturb Lady +Lydiard,” and the voice of Moody answering, “I will just knock at the +door of her Ladyship’s room, sir; you will find Mr. Sweetsir in the +picture-gallery.” + +The curtains over the archway parted, and disclosed the figure of a tall +man, with a closely cropped head set a little stiffly on his shoulders. +The immovable gravity of face and manner which every Englishman seems to +acquire who lives constantly in the society of horses, was the gravity +which this gentleman displayed as he entered the picture-gallery. He was +a finely made, sinewy man, with clearly cut, regular features. If he had +not been affected with horses on the brain he would doubtless have been +personally popular with the women. As it was, the serene and hippic +gloom of the handsome horse-breeder daunted the daughters of Eve, +and they failed to make up their minds about the exact value of him, +socially considered. Alfred Hardyman was nevertheless a remarkable man +in his way. He had been offered the customary alternatives submitted +to the younger sons of the nobility--the Church or the diplomatic +service--and had refused the one and the other. “I like horses,” he +said, “and I mean to get my living out of them. Don’t talk to me about +my position in the world. Talk to my eldest brother, who gets the money +and the title.” Starting in life with these sensible views, and with a +small capital of five thousand pounds, Hardyman took his own place in +the sphere that was fitted for him. At the period of this narrative +he was already a rich man, and one of the greatest authorities on +horse-breeding in England. His prosperity made no change in him. He was +always the same grave, quiet, obstinately resolute man--true to the few +friends whom he admitted to his intimacy, and sincere to a fault in the +expression of his feelings among persons whom he distrusted or disliked. +As he entered the picture-gallery and paused for a moment looking at +Felix on the sofa, his large, cold, steady gray eyes rested on the +little man with an indifference that just verged on contempt. Felix, on +the other hand, sprang to his feet with alert politeness and greeted his +friend with exuberant cordiality. + +“Dear old boy! This is so good of you,” he began. “I feel it--I do +assure you I feel it!” + +“You needn’t trouble yourself to feel it,” was the quietly-ungracious +answer. “Lady Lydiard brings me here. I come to see the house--and the +dog.” He looked round the gallery in his gravely attentive way. “I don’t +understand pictures,” he remarked resignedly. “I shall go back to the +drawing-room.” + +After a moment’s consideration, Felix followed him into the +drawing-room, with the air of a man who was determined not to be +repelled. + +“Well?” asked Hardyman. “What is it?” + +“About that matter?” Felix said, inquiringly. + +“What matter?” + +“Oh, you know. Will next week do?” + +“Next week _won’t_ do.” + +Mr. Felix Sweetsir cast one look at his friend. His friend was too +intently occupied with the decorations of the drawing-room to notice the +look. + +“Will to-morrow do?” Felix resumed, after an interval. + +“Yes.” + +“At what time?” + +“Between twelve and one in the afternoon.” + +“Between twelve and one in the afternoon,” Felix repeated. He looked +again at Hardyman and took his hat. “Make my apologies to my aunt,” he +said. “You must introduce yourself to her Ladyship. I can’t wait here +any longer.” He walked out of the room, having deliberately returned the +contemptuous indifference of Hardyman by a similar indifference on his +own side, at parting. + +Left by himself, Hardyman took a chair and glanced at the door which led +into the boudoir. The steward had knocked at that door, had disappeared +through it, and had not appeared again. How much longer was Lady +Lydiard’s visitor to be left unnoticed in Lady Lydiard’s house? + +As the question passed through his mind the boudoir door opened. For +once in his life, Alfred Hardyman’s composure deserted him. He started +to his feet, like an ordinary mortal taken completely by surprise. + +Instead of Mr. Moody, instead of Lady Lydiard, there appeared in the +open doorway a young woman in a state of embarrassment, who actually +quickened the beat of Mr. Hardyman’s heart the moment he set eyes on +her. Was the person who produced this amazing impression at first sight +a person of importance? Nothing of the sort. She was only “Isabel” + surnamed “Miller.” Even her name had nothing in it. Only “Isabel +Miller!” + +Had she any pretensions to distinction in virtue of her personal +appearance? + +It is not easy to answer the question. The women (let us put the +worst judges first) had long since discovered that she wanted that +indispensable elegance of figure which is derived from slimness of +waist and length of limb. The men (who were better acquainted with the +subject) looked at her figure from their point of view; and, finding it +essentially embraceable, asked for nothing more. It might have been her +bright complexion or it might have been the bold luster of her eyes (as +the women considered it), that dazzled the lords of creation generally, +and made them all alike incompetent to discover her faults. Still, +she had compensating attractions which no severity of criticism could +dispute. Her smile, beginning at her lips, flowed brightly and instantly +over her whole face. A delicious atmosphere of health, freshness, and +good humor seemed to radiate from her wherever she went and whatever she +did. For the rest her brown hair grew low over her broad white forehead, +and was topped by a neat little lace cap with ribbons of a violet color. +A plain collar and plain cuffs encircled her smooth, round neck, and +her plump dimpled hands. Her merino dress, covering but not hiding the +charming outline of her bosom, matched the color of the cap-ribbons, and +was brightened by a white muslin apron coquettishly trimmed about the +pockets, a gift from Lady Lydiard. Blushing and smiling, she let the +door fall to behind her, and, shyly approaching the stranger, said +to him, in her small, clear voice, “If you please, sir, are you Mr. +Hardyman?” + +The gravity of the great horse-breeder deserted him at her first +question. He smiled as he acknowledged that he was “Mr. Hardyman”--he +smiled as he offered her a chair. + +“No, thank you, sir,” she said, with a quaintly pretty inclination of +her head. “I am only sent here to make her Ladyship’s apologies. She has +put the poor dear dog into a warm bath, and she can’t leave him. And Mr. +Moody can’t come instead of me, because I was too frightened to be of +any use, and so he had to hold the dog. That’s all. We are very anxious +sir, to know if the warm bath is the right thing. Please come into the +room and tell us.” + +She led the way back to the door. Hardyman, naturally enough, was +slow to follow her. When a man is fascinated by the charm of youth and +beauty, he is in no hurry to transfer his attention to a sick animal +in a bath. Hardyman seized on the first excuse that he could devise +for keeping Isabel to himself--that is to say, for keeping her in the +drawing-room. + +“I think I shall be better able to help you,” he said, “if you will tell +me something about the dog first.” + +Even his accent in speaking had altered to a certain degree. The quiet, +dreary monotone in which he habitually spoke quickened a little under +his present excitement. As for Isabel, she was too deeply interested +in Tommie’s welfare to suspect that she was being made the victim of a +stratagem. She left the door and returned to Hardyman with eager eyes. +“What can I tell you, sir?” she asked innocently. + +Hardyman pressed his advantage without mercy. + +“You can tell me what sort of dog he is?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“How old he is?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“What his name is?--what his temper is?--what his illness is? what +diseases his father and mother had?--what--” + +Isabel’s head began to turn giddy. “One thing at a time, sir!” she +interposed, with a gesture of entreaty. “The dog sleeps on my bed, and I +had a bad night with him, he disturbed me so, and I am afraid I am very +stupid this morning. His name is Tommie. We are obliged to call him by +it, because he won’t answer to any other than the name he had when my +Lady bought him. But we spell it with an _i e_ at the end, which makes +it less vulgar than Tommy with a _y_. I am very sorry, sir--I forget +what else you wanted to know. Please to come in here and my Lady will +tell you everything.” + +She tried to get back to the door of the boudoir. Hardyman, feasting +his eyes on the pretty, changeful face that looked up at him with such +innocent confidence in his authority, drew her away from the door by the +one means at his disposal. He returned to his questions about Tommie. + +“Wait a little, please. What sort of dog is he?” + +Isabel turned back again from the door. To describe Tommie was a labor +of love. “He is the most beautiful dog in the world!” the girl began, +with kindling eyes. “He has the most exquisite white curly hair and two +light brown patches on his back--and, oh! _such_ lovely dark eyes! +They call him a Scotch terrier. When he is well his appetite is truly +wonderful--nothing comes amiss to him, sir, from pate de foie gras to +potatoes. He has his enemies, poor dear, though you wouldn’t think it. +People who won’t put up with being bitten by him (what shocking tempers +one does meet with, to be sure!) call him a mongrel. Isn’t it a shame? +Please come in and see him, sir; my Lady will be tired of waiting.” + +Another journey to the door followed those words, checked instantly by a +serious objection. + +“Stop a minute! You must tell me what his temper is, or I can do nothing +for him.” + +Isabel returned once more, feeling that it was really serious this time. +Her gravity was even more charming than her gayety. As she lifted +her face to him, with large solemn eyes, expressive of her sense of +responsibility, Hardyman would have given every horse in his stables to +have had the privilege of taking her in his arms and kissing her. + +“Tommie has the temper of an angel with the people he likes,” she said. +“When he bites, it generally means that he objects to strangers. He +loves my Lady, and he loves Mr. Moody, and he loves me, and--and I think +that’s all. This way, sir, if you please, I am sure I heard my Lady +call.” + +“No,” said Hardyman, in his immovably obstinate way. “Nobody called. +About this dog’s temper? Doesn’t he take to any strangers? What sort of +people does he bite in general?” + +Isabel’s pretty lips began to curl upward at the corners in a quaint +smile. Hardyman’s last imbecile question had opened her eyes to the +true state of the case. Still, Tommie’s future was in this strange +gentleman’s hands; she felt bound to consider that. And, moreover, it +was no everyday event, in Isabel’s experience, to fascinate a famous +personage, who was also a magnificent and perfectly dressed man. She ran +the risk of wasting another minute or two, and went on with the memoirs +of Tommie. + +“I must own, sir,” she resumed, “that he behaves a little +ungratefully--even to strangers who take an interest in him. When he +gets lost in the streets (which is very often), he sits down on the +pavement and howls till he collects a pitying crowd round him; and when +they try to read his name and address on his collar he snaps at them. +The servants generally find him and bring him back; and as soon as he +gets home he turns round on the doorstep and snaps at the servants. I +think it must be his fun. You should see him sitting up in his chair at +dinner-time, waiting to be helped, with his fore paws on the edge of the +table, like the hands of a gentleman at a public dinner making a speech. +But, oh!” cried Isabel, checking herself, with the tears in her eyes, +“how can I talk of him in this way when he is so dreadfully ill! Some of +them say it’s bronchitis, and some say it’s his liver. Only yesterday I +took him to the front door to give him a little air, and he stood still +on the pavement, quite stupefied. For the first time in his life, he +snapped at nobody who went by; and, oh, dear, he hadn’t even the heart +to smell a lamp-post!” + +Isabel had barely stated this last afflicting circumstance when +the memoirs of Tommie were suddenly cut short by the voice of Lady +Lydiard--really calling this time--from the inner room. + +“Isabel! Isabel!” cried her Ladyship, “what are you about?” + +Isabel ran to the door of the boudoir and threw it open. “Go in, sir! +Pray go in!” she said. + +“Without you?” Hardyman asked. + +“I will follow you, sir. I have something to do for her Ladyship first.” + +She still held the door open, and pointed entreatingly to the passage +which led to the boudoir “I shall be blamed, sir,” she said, “if you +don’t go in.” + +This statement of the case left Hardyman no alternative. He presented +himself to Lady Lydiard without another moment of delay. + +Having closed the drawing-room door on him, Isabel waited a little, +absorbed in her own thoughts. + +She was now perfectly well aware of the effect which she had produced +on Hardyman. Her vanity, it is not to be denied, was flattered by his +admiration--he was so grand and so tall, and he had such fine large +eyes. The girl looked prettier than ever as she stood with her head +down and her color heightened, smiling to herself. A clock on the +chimney-piece striking the half-hour roused her. She cast one look at +the glass, as she passed it, and went to the table at which Lady Lydiard +had been writing. + +Methodical Mr. Moody, in submitting to be employed as bath-attendant +upon Tommie, had not forgotten the interests of his mistress. He +reminded her Ladyship that she had left her letter, with a bank-note +inclosed in it, unsealed. Absorbed in the dog, Lady Lydiard answered, +“Isabel is doing nothing, let Isabel seal it. Show Mr. Hardyman in +here,” she continued, turning to Isabel, “and then seal a letter of +mine which you will find on the table.” “And when you have sealed it,” + careful Mr. Moody added, “put it back on the table; I will take charge +of it when her Ladyship has done with me.” + +Such were the special instructions which now detained Isabel in the +drawing-room. She lighted the taper, and closed and sealed the open +envelope, without feeling curiosity enough even to look at the address. +Mr. Hardyman was the uppermost subject in her thoughts. Leaving the +sealed letter on the table, she returned to the fireplace, and studied +her own charming face attentively in the looking-glass. The time +passed--and Isabel’s reflection was still the subject of Isabel’s +contemplation. “He must see many beautiful ladies,” she thought, +veering backward and forward between pride and humility. “I wonder what +he sees in Me?” + +The clock struck the hour. Almost at the same moment the boudoir-door +opened, and Robert Moody, released at last from attendance on Tommie, +entered the drawing-room. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +“WELL?” asked Isabel eagerly, “what does Mr. Hardyman say? Does he think +he can cure Tommie?” + +Moody answered a little coldly and stiffly. His dark, deeply-set eyes +rested on Isabel with an uneasy look. + +“Mr. Hardyman seems to understand animals,” he said. “He lifted the +dog’s eyelid and looked at his eyes, and then he told us the bath was +useless.” + +“Go on!” said Isabel impatiently. “He did something, I suppose, besides +telling you that the bath was useless?” + +“He took a knife out of his pocket, with a lancet in it.” + +Isabel clasped her hands with a faint cry of horror. “Oh, Mr. Moody! did +he hurt Tommie?” + +“Hurt him?” Moody repeated, indignant at the interest which she felt in +the animal, and the indifference which she exhibited towards the man +(as represented by himself). “Hurt him, indeed! Mr. Hardyman bled the +brute--” + +“Brute?” Isabel reiterated, with flashing eyes. “I know some people, Mr. +Moody, who really deserve to be called by that horrid word. If you can’t +say ‘Tommie,’ when you speak of him in my presence, be so good as to say +‘the dog.’” + +Moody yielded with the worst possible grace. “Oh, very well! Mr. +Hardyman bled the dog, and brought him to his senses directly. I am +charged to tell you--” He stopped, as if the message which he was +instructed to deliver was in the last degree distasteful to him. + +“Well, what were you charged to tell me?” + +“I was to say that Mr. Hardyman will give you instructions how to treat +the dog for the future.” + +Isabel hastened to the door, eager to receive her instructions. Moody +stopped her before she could open it. + +“You are in a great hurry to get to Mr. Hardyman,” he remarked. + +Isabel looked back at him in surprise. “You said just now that Mr. +Hardyman was waiting to tell me how to nurse Tommie.” + +“Let him wait,” Moody rejoined sternly. “When I left him, he was +sufficiently occupied in expressing his favorable opinion of you to her +Ladyship.” + +The steward’s pale face turned paler still as he said those words. +With the arrival of Isabel in Lady Lydiard’s house “his time had +come”--exactly as the women in the servants’ hall had predicted. At last +the impenetrable man felt the influence of the sex; at last he knew the +passion of love misplaced, ill-starred, hopeless love, for a woman who +was young enough to be his child. He had already spoken to Isabel +more than once in terms which told his secret plainly enough. But the +smouldering fire of jealousy in the man, fanned into flame by Hardyman, +now showed itself for the first time. His looks, even more than his +words, would have warned a woman with any knowledge of the natures of +men to be careful how she answered him. Young, giddy, and inexperienced, +Isabel followed the flippant impulse of the moment, without a thought +of the consequences. “I’m sure it’s very kind of Mr. Hardyman to speak +favorably of me,” she said, with a pert little laugh. “I hope you are +not jealous of him, Mr. Moody?” + +Moody was in no humor to make allowances for the unbridled gayety of +youth and good spirits. + +“I hate any man who admires you,” he burst out passionately, “let him be +who he may!” + +Isabel looked at her strange lover with unaffected astonishment. How +unlike Mr. Hardyman, who had treated her as a lady from first to last! +“What an odd man you are!” she said. “You can’t take a joke. I’m sure I +didn’t mean to offend you.” + +“You don’t offend me--you do worse, you distress me.” + +Isabel’s color began to rise. The merriment died out of her face; she +looked at Moody gravely. “I don’t like to be accused of distressing +people when I don’t deserve it,” she said. “I had better leave you. Let +me by, if you please.” + +Having committed one error in offending her, Moody committed another in +attempting to make his peace with her. Acting under the fear that she +would really leave him, he took her roughly by the arm. + +“You are always trying to get away from me,” he said. “I wish I knew how +to make you like me, Isabel.” + +“I don’t allow you to call me Isabel!” she retorted, struggling to free +herself from his hold. “Let go of my arm. You hurt me.” + +Moody dropped her arm with a bitter sigh. “I don’t know how to deal with +you,” he said simply. “Have some pity on me!” + +If the steward had known anything of women (at Isabel’s age) he would +never have appealed to her mercy in those plain terms, and at the +unpropitious moment. “Pity you?” she repeated contemptuously. “Is that +all you have to say to me after hurting my arm? What a bear you are!” + She shrugged her shoulders and put her hands coquettishly into the +pockets of her apron. That was how she pitied him! His face turned paler +and paler--he writhed under it. + +“For God’s sake, don’t turn everything I say to you into ridicule!” he +cried. “You know I love you with all my heart and soul. Again and again +I have asked you to be my wife--and you laugh at me as if it was a joke. +I haven’t deserved to be treated in that cruel way. It maddens me--I +can’t endure it!” + +Isabel looked down on the floor, and followed the lines in the pattern +of the carpet with the end of her smart little shoe. She could hardly +have been further away from really understanding Moody if he had spoken +in Hebrew. She was partly startled, partly puzzled, by the strong +emotions which she had unconsciously called into being. “Oh dear +me!” she said, “why can’t you talk of something else? Why can’t we be +friends? Excuse me for mentioning it,” she went on, looking up at him +with a saucy smile, “you are old enough to be my father.” + +Moody’s head sank on his breast. “I own it,” he answered humbly. “But +there is something to be said for me. Men as old as I am have made good +husbands before now. I would devote my whole life to make you happy. +There isn’t a wish you could form which I wouldn’t be proud to obey. You +must not reckon me by years. My youth has not been wasted in a profligate +life; I can be truer to you and fonder of you than many a younger man. +Surely my heart is not quite unworthy of you, when it is all yours. +I have lived such a lonely, miserable life--and you might so easily +brighten it. You are kind to everybody else, Isabel. Tell me, dear, why +are you so hard on _me?_” + +His voice trembled as he appealed to her in those simple words. He had +taken the right way at last to produce an impression on her. She really +felt for him. All that was true and tender in her nature began to rise +in her and take his part. Unhappily, he felt too deeply and too strongly +to be patient, and give her time. He completely misinterpreted her +silence--completely mistook the motive that made her turn aside for a +moment, to gather composure enough to speak to him. “Ah!” he burst out +bitterly, turning away on his side, “you have no heart.” + +She instantly resented those unjust words. At that moment they wounded +her to the quick. + +“You know best,” she said. “I have no doubt you are right. Remember one +thing, however, that though I have no heart, I have never encouraged +you, Mr. Moody. I have declared over and over again that I could only +be your friend. Understand that for the future, if you please. There are +plenty of nice women who will be glad to marry you, I have no doubt. +You will always have my best wishes for your welfare. Good-morning. +Her Ladyship will wonder what has become of me. Be so kind as to let me +pass.” + +Tortured by the passion that consumed him, Moody obstinately kept his +place between Isabel and the door. The unworthy suspicion of her, which +had been in his mind all through the interview, now forced its way +outwards to expression at last. + +“No woman ever used a man as you use me without some reason for it,” he +said. “You have kept your secret wonderfully well--but sooner or later +all secrets get found out. I know what is in your mind as well as you +know it yourself. You are in love with some other man.” + +Isabel’s face flushed deeply; the defensive pride of her sex was up +in arms in an instant. She cast one disdainful look at Moody, without +troubling herself to express her contempt in words. “Stand out of my +way, sir!”--that was all she said to him. + +“You are in love with some other man,” he reiterated passionately. “Deny +it if you can!” + +“Deny it?” she repeated, with flashing eyes. “What right have you to ask +the question? Am I not free to do as I please?” + +He stood looking at her, meditating his next words with a sudden and +sinister change to self-restraint. Suppressed rage was in his rigidly +set eyes, suppressed rage was in his trembling hand as he raised it +emphatically while he spoke his next words. + +“I have one thing more to say,” he answered, “and then I have done. If +I am not your husband, no other man shall be. Look well to it, Isabel +Miller. If there _is_ another man between us, I can tell him this--he +shall find it no easy matter to rob me of you!” + +She started, and turned pale--but it was only for a moment. The high +spirit that was in her rose brightly in her eyes, and faced him without +shrinking. + +“Threats?” she said, with quiet contempt. “When you make love, Mr. +Moody, you take strange ways of doing it. My conscience is easy. You may +try to frighten me, but you will not succeed. When you have recovered +your temper I will accept your excuses.” She paused, and pointed to the +table. “There is the letter that you told me to leave for you when I +had sealed it,” she went on. “I suppose you have her Ladyship’s orders. +Isn’t it time you began to think of obeying them?” + +The contemptuous composure of her tone and manner seemed to act on Moody +with crushing effect. Without a word of answer, the unfortunate steward +took up the letter from the table. Without a word of answer, he walked +mechanically to the great door which opened on the staircase--turned on +the threshold to look at Isabel--waited a moment, pale and still--and +suddenly left the room. + +That silent departure, that hopeless submission, impressed Isabel in +spite of herself. The sustaining sense of injury and insult sank, as it +were, from under her the moment she was alone. He had not been gone a +minute before she began to be sorry for him once more. The interview had +taught her nothing. She was neither old enough nor experienced enough +to understand the overwhelming revolution produced in a man’s character +when he feels the passion of love for the first time in the maturity of +his life. If Moody had stolen a kiss at the first opportunity, she would +have resented the liberty he had taken with her; but she would have +thoroughly understood him. His terrible earnestness, his overpowering +agitation, his abrupt violence--all these evidences of a passion that +was a mystery to himself--simply puzzled her. “I’m sure I didn’t wish to +hurt his feelings” (such was the form that her reflections took, in her +present penitent frame of mind); “but why did he provoke me? It is a +shame to tell me that I love some other man--when there is no other man. +I declare I begin to hate the men, if they are all like Mr. Moody. I +wonder whether he will forgive me when he sees me again? I’m sure I’m +willing to forget and forgive on my side--especially if he won’t insist +on my being fond of him because he is fond of me. Oh, dear! I wish he +would come back and shake hands. It’s enough to try the patience of a +saint to be treated in this way. I wish I was ugly! The ugly ones have +a quiet time of it--the men let them be. Mr. Moody! Mr. Moody!” She went +out to the landing and called to him softly. There was no answer. He was +no longer in the house. She stood still for a moment in silent vexation. +“I’ll go to Tommie!” she decided. “I’m sure he’s the more agreeable +company of the two. And--oh, good gracious! there’s Mr. Hardyman waiting +to give me my instructions! How do I look, I wonder?” + +She consulted the glass once more--gave one or two corrective touches to +her hair and her cap--and hastened into the boudoir. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +FOR a quarter of an hour the drawing-room remained empty. At the end of +that time the council in the boudoir broke up. Lady Lydiard led the way +back into the drawing-room, followed by Hardyman, Isabel being left to +look after the dog. Before the door closed behind him, Hardyman turned +round to reiterate his last medical directions--or, in plainer words, to +take a last look at Isabel. + +“Plenty of water, Miss Isabel, for the dog to lap, and a little bread or +biscuit, if he wants something to eat. Nothing more, if you please, till +I see him to-morrow.” + +“Thank you, sir. I will take the greatest care--” + +At that point Lady Lydiard cut short the interchange of instructions +and civilities. “Shut the door, if you please, Mr. Hardyman. I feel the +draught. Many thanks! I am really at a loss to tell you how gratefully I +feel your kindness. But for you my poor little dog might be dead by this +time.” + +Hardyman answered, in the quiet melancholy monotone which was habitual +with him, “Your Ladyship need feel no further anxiety about the dog. +Only be careful not to overfeed him. He will do very well under Miss +Isabel’s care. By the bye, her family name is Miller--is it not? Is she +related to the Warwickshire Millers of Duxborough House?” + +Lady Lydiard looked at him with an expression of satirical surprise. +“Mr. Hardyman,” she said, “this makes the fourth time you have +questioned me about Isabel. You seem to take a great interest in my +little companion. Don’t make any apologies, pray! You pay Isabel a +compliment, and, as I am very fond of her, I am naturally gratified when +I find her admired. At the same time,” she added, with one of her abrupt +transitions of language, “I had my eye on you, and I had my eye on her, +when you were talking in the next room; and I don’t mean to let you make +a fool of the girl. She is not in your line of life, and the sooner you +know it the better. You make me laugh when you ask if she is related to +gentlefolks. She is the orphan daughter of a chemist in the country. Her +relations haven’t a penny to bless themselves with, except an old aunt, +who lives in a village on two or three hundred a year. I heard of the +girl by accident. When she lost her father and mother, her aunt offered +to take her. Isabel said, ‘No, thank you; I will not be a burden on +a relation who has only enough for herself. A girl can earn an honest +living if she tries; and I mean to try’--that’s what she said. I admired +her independence,” her Ladyship proceeded, ascending again to the higher +regions of thought and expression. “My niece’s marriage, just at that +time, had left me alone in this great house. I proposed to Isabel to +come to me as companion and reader for a few weeks, and to decide for +herself whether she liked the life or not. We have never been separated +since that time. I could hardly be fonder of her if she were my own +daughter; and she returns my affection with all her heart. She has +excellent qualities--prudent, cheerful, sweet-tempered; with good sense +enough to understand what her place is in the world, as distinguished +from her place in my regard. I have taken care, for her own sake, never +to leave that part of the question in any doubt. It would be cruel +kindness to deceive her as to her future position when she marries. I +shall take good care that the man who pays his addresses to her is a man +in her rank of life. I know but too well, in the case of one of my own +relatives, what miseries unequal marriages bring with them. Excuse me +for troubling you at this length on domestic matters. I am very fond +of Isabel; and a girl’s head is so easily turned. Now you know what her +position really is, you will also know what limits there must be to the +expression of your interest in her. I am sure we understand each other; +and I say no more.” + +Hardyman listened to this long harangue with the immovable gravity which +was part of his character--except when Isabel had taken him by surprise. +When her Ladyship gave him the opportunity of speaking on his side, +he had very little to say, and that little did not suggest that he had +greatly profited by what he had heard. His mind had been full of Isabel +when Lady Lydiard began, and it remained just as full of her, in just +the same way, when Lady Lydiard had done. + +“Yes,” he remarked quietly, “Miss Isabel is an uncommonly nice girl, as +you say. Very pretty, and such frank, unaffected manners. I don’t deny +that I feel an interest in her. The young ladies one meets in society +are not much to my taste. Miss Isabel is my taste.” + +Lady Lydiard’s face assumed a look of blank dismay. “I am afraid I have +failed to convey my exact meaning to you,” she said. + +Hardyman gravely declared that he understood her perfectly. “Perfectly!” + he repeated, with his impenetrable obstinacy. “Your Ladyship exactly +expresses my opinion of Miss Isabel. Prudent, and cheerful, and +sweet-tempered, as you say--all the qualities in a woman that I admire. +With good looks, too--of course, with good looks. She will be a perfect +treasure (as you remarked just now) to the man who marries her. I may +claim to know something about it. I have twice narrowly escaped being +married myself; and, though I can’t exactly explain it, I’m all the +harder to please in consequence. Miss Isabel pleases me. I think I +have said that before? Pardon me for saying it again. I’ll call again +to-morrow morning and look at the dog as early as eleven o’clock, if you +will allow me. Later in the day I must be off to France to attend a sale +of horses. Glad to have been of any use to your Ladyship, I am sure. +Good-morning.” + +Lady Lydiard let him go, wisely resigning any further attempt to +establish an understanding between her visitor and herself. + +“He is either a person of very limited intelligence when he is away from +his stables,” she thought, “or he deliberately declines to take a plain +hint when it is given to him. I can’t drop his acquaintance, on Tommie’s +account. The only other alternative is to keep Isabel out of his way. My +good little girl shall not drift into a false position while I am living +to look after her. When Mr. Hardyman calls to-morrow she shall be out +on an errand. When he calls the next time she shall be upstairs with a +headache. And if he tries it again she shall be away at my house in the +country. If he makes any remarks on her absence--well, he will find that +I can be just as dull of understanding as he is when the occasion calls +for it.” + +Having arrived at this satisfactory solution of the difficulty, Lady +Lydiard became conscious of an irresistible impulse to summon Isabel to +her presence and caress her. In the nature of a warm-hearted woman, +this was only the inevitable reaction which followed the subsidence of +anxiety about the girl, after her own resolution had set that anxiety at +rest. She threw open the door and made one of her sudden appearances at +the boudoir. Even in the fervent outpouring of her affection, there was +still the inherent abruptness of manner which so strongly marked Lady +Lydiard’s character in all the relations of life. + +“Did I give you a kiss, this morning?” she asked, when Isabel rose to +receive her. + +“Yes, my Lady,” said the girl, with her charming smile. + +“Come, then, and give me a kiss in return. Do you love me? Very well, +then, treat me like your mother. Never mind ‘my lady’ this time. Give me +a good hug!” + +Something in those homely words, or something perhaps in the look that +accompanied them, touched sympathies in Isabel which seldom showed +themselves on the surface. Her smiling lips trembled, the bright tears +rose in her eyes. “You are too good to me,” she murmured, with her head +on Lady Lydiard’s bosom. “How can I ever love you enough in return?” + +Lady Lydiard patted the pretty head that rested on her with such filial +tenderness. “There! there!” she said, “Go back and play with Tommie, my +dear. We may be as fond of each other as we like; but we mustn’t cry. +God bless you! Go away--go away!” + +She turned aside quickly; her own eyes were moistening, and it was part +of her character to be reluctant to let Isabel see it. “Why have I made +a fool of myself?” she wondered, as she approached the drawing-room +door. “It doesn’t matter. I am all the better for it. Odd, that Mr. +Hardyman should have made me feel fonder of Isabel than ever!” + +With those reflections she re-entered the drawing-room--and suddenly +checked herself with a start. “Good Heavens!” she exclaimed irritably, +“how you frightened me! Why was I not told you were here?” + +Having left the drawing-room in a state of solitude, Lady Lydiard on her +return found herself suddenly confronted with a gentleman, mysteriously +planted on the hearth-rug in her absence. The new visitor may be rightly +described as a gray man. He had gray hair, eyebrows, and whiskers; he +wore a gray coat, waistcoat, and trousers, and gray gloves. For +the rest, his appearance was eminently suggestive of wealth and +respectability and, in this case, appearances were really to be trusted. +The gray man was no other than Lady Lydiard’s legal adviser, Mr. Troy. + +“I regret, my Lady, that I should have been so unfortunate as to startle +you,” he said, with a certain underlying embarrassment in his manner. +“I had the honor of sending word by Mr. Moody that I would call at this +hour, on some matters of business connected with your Ladyship’s house +property. I presumed that you expected to find me here, waiting your +pleasure--” + +Thus far Lady Lydiard had listened to her legal adviser, fixing her eyes +on his face in her usually frank, straightforward way. She now stopped +him in the middle of a sentence, with a change of expression in her own +face which was undisguisedly a change to alarm. + +“Don’t apologize, Mr. Troy,” she said. “I am to blame for forgetting +your appointment and for not keeping my nerves under proper control.” + She paused for a moment and took a seat before she said her next words. +“May I ask,” she resumed, “if there is something unpleasant in the +business that brings you here?” + +“Nothing whatever, my Lady; mere formalities, which can wait till +to-morrow or next day, if you wish it.” + +Lady Lydiard’s fingers drummed impatiently on the table. “You have known +me long enough, Mr. Troy, to know that I cannot endure suspense. You +_have_ something unpleasant to tell me.” + +The lawyer respectfully remonstrated. “Really, Lady Lydiard!--” he +began. + +“It won’t do, Mr. Troy! I know how you look at me on ordinary occasions, +and I see how you look at me now. You are a very clever lawyer; but, +happily for the interests that I commit to your charge, you are also a +thoroughly honest man. After twenty years’ experience of you, you can’t +deceive _me_. You bring me bad news. Speak at once, sir, and speak +plainly.” + +Mr. Troy yielded--inch by inch, as it were. “I bring news which, I fear, +may annoy your Ladyship.” He paused, and advanced another inch. “It is +news which I only became acquainted with myself on entering this house.” + +He waited again, and made another advance. “I happened to meet your +Ladyship’s steward, Mr. Moody, in the hall--” + +“Where is he?” Lady Lydiard interposed angrily. “I can make _him_ speak +out, and I will. Send him here instantly.” + +The lawyer made a last effort to hold off the coming disclosure a little +longer. “Mr. Moody will be here directly,” he said. “Mr. Moody requested +me to prepare your Ladyship--” + +“Will you ring the bell, Mr. Troy, or must I?” + +Moody had evidently been waiting outside while the lawyer spoke for him. +He saved Mr. Troy the trouble of ringing the bell by presenting himself +in the drawing-room. Lady Lydiard’s eyes searched his face as he +approached. Her bright complexion faded suddenly. Not a word more passed +her lips. She looked, and waited. + +In silence on his part, Moody laid an open sheet of paper on the table. +The paper quivered in his trembling hand. + +Lady Lydiard recovered herself first. “Is that for me?” she asked. + +“Yes, my Lady.” + +She took up the paper without an instant’s hesitation. Both the men +watched her anxiously as she read it. + +The handwriting was strange to her. The words were these:-- + +“I hereby certify that the bearer of these lines, Robert Moody by name, +has presented to me the letter with which he was charged, addressed to +myself, with the seal intact. I regret to add that there is, to say the +least of it, some mistake. The inclosure referred to by the anonymous +writer of the letter, who signs ‘a friend in need,’ has not reached me. +No five-hundred pound bank-note was in the letter when I opened it. +My wife was present when I broke the seal, and can certify to this +statement if necessary. Not knowing who my charitable correspondent is +(Mr. Moody being forbidden to give me any information), I can only take +this means of stating the case exactly as it stands, and hold myself at +the disposal of the writer of the letter. My private address is at the +head of the page.--Samuel Bradstock, Rector, St. Anne’s, Deansbury, +London.” + +Lady Lydiard dropped the paper on the table. For the moment, plainly as +the Rector’s statement was expressed, she appeared to be incapable of +understanding it. “What, in God’s name, does this mean?” she asked. + +The lawyer and the steward looked at each other. Which of the two was +entitled to speak first? Lady Lydiard gave them no time to decide. +“Moody,” she said sternly, “you took charge of the letter--I look to you +for an explanation.” + +Moody’s dark eyes flashed. He answered Lady Lydiard without caring to +conceal that he resented the tone in which she had spoken to him. + +“I undertook to deliver the letter at its address,” he said. “I found +it, sealed, on the table. Your Ladyship has the clergyman’s written +testimony that I handed it to him with the seal unbroken. I have done my +duty; and I have no explanation to offer.” + +Before Lady Lydiard could speak again, Mr. Troy discreetly interfered. +He saw plainly that his experience was required to lead the +investigation in the right direction. + +“Pardon me, my Lady,” he said, with that happy mixture of the positive +and the polite in his manner, of which lawyers alone possess the secret. +“There is only one way of arriving at the truth in painful matters of +this sort. We must begin at the beginning. May I venture to ask your +Ladyship a question?” + +Lady Lydiard felt the composing influence of Mr. Troy. “I am at your +disposal, sir,” she said, quietly. + +“Are you absolutely certain that you inclosed the bank-note in the +letter?” the lawyer asked. + +“I certainly believe I inclosed it,” Lady Lydiard answered. “But I was so +alarmed at the time by the sudden illness of my dog, that I do not feel +justified in speaking positively.” + +“Was anybody in the room with your Ladyship when you put the inclosure +in the letter--as you believe?” + +“_I_ was in the room,” said Moody. “I can swear that I saw her Ladyship +put the bank-note in the letter, and the letter in the envelope.” + +“And seal the envelope?” asked Mr. Troy. + +“No, sir. Her Ladyship was called away into the next room to the dog, +before she could seal the envelope.” + +Mr. Troy addressed himself once more to Lady Lydiard. “Did your Ladyship +take the letter into the next room with you?” + +“I was too much alarmed to think of it, Mr. Troy. I left it here, on the +table.” + +“With the envelope open?” + +“Yes.” + +“How long were you absent in the other room?” + +“Half an hour or more.” + +“Ha!” said Mr. Troy to himself. “This complicates it a little.” He +reflected for a while, and then turned again to Moody. “Did any of the +servants know of this bank-note being in her Ladyship’s possession?” + +“Not one of them,” Moody answered. + +“Do you suspect any of the servants?” + +“Certainly not, sir.” + +“Are there any workmen employed in the house?” + +“No, sir.” + +“Do you know of any persons who had access to the room while Lady +Lydiard was absent from it?” + +“Two visitors called, sir.” + +“Who were they?” + +“Her Ladyship’s nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir, and the Honorable Alfred +Hardyman.” + +Mr. Troy shook his head irritably. “I am not speaking of gentlemen of +high position and repute,” he said. “It’s absurd even to mention Mr. +Sweetsir and Mr. Hardyman. My question related to strangers who might +have obtained access to the drawing-room--people calling, with her +Ladyship’s sanction, for subscriptions, for instance; or people calling +with articles of dress or ornament to be submitted to her Ladyship’s +inspection.” + +“No such persons came to the house with my knowledge,” Moody answered. + +Mr. Troy suspended the investigation, and took a turn thoughtfully in +the room. The theory on which his inquiries had proceeded thus far had +failed to produce any results. His experience warned him to waste +no more time on it, and to return to the starting-point of the +investigation--in other words, to the letter. Shifting his point of +view, he turned again to Lady Lydiard, and tried his questions in a new +direction. + +“Mr. Moody mentioned just now,” he said, “that your Ladyship was called +into the next room before you could seal your letter. On your return to +this room, did you seal the letter?” + +“I was busy with the dog,” Lady Lydiard answered. “Isabel Miller was of +no use in the boudoir, and I told her to seal it for me.” + +Mr. Troy started. The new direction in which he was pushing his +inquiries began to look like the right direction already. “Miss Isabel +Miller,” he proceeded, “has been a resident under your Ladyship’s roof +for some little time, I believe?” + +“For nearly two years, Mr. Troy.” + +“As your Ladyship’s companion and reader?” + +“As my adopted daughter,” her Ladyship answered, with marked emphasis. + +Wise Mr. Troy rightly interpreted the emphasis as a warning to him to +suspend the examination of her Ladyship, and to address to Mr. Moody the +far more serious questions which were now to come. + +“Did anyone give you the letter before you left the house with it?” he +said to the steward. “Or did you take it yourself?” + +“I took it myself, from the table here.” + +“Was it sealed?” + +“Yes.” + +“Was anybody present when you took the letter from the table?” + +“Miss Isabel was present.” + +“Did you find her alone in the room?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +Lady Lydiard opened her lips to speak, and checked herself. Mr. Troy, +having cleared the ground before him, put the fatal question. + +“Mr. Moody,” he said, “when Miss Isabel was instructed to seal the +letter, did she know that a bank-note was inclosed in it?” + +Instead of replying, Robert drew back from the lawyer with a look of +horror. Lady Lydiard started to her feet--and checked herself again, on +the point of speaking. + +“Answer him, Moody,” she said, putting a strong constraint on herself. + +Robert answered very unwillingly. “I took the liberty of reminding +her ladyship that she had left her letter unsealed,” he said. “And +I mentioned as my excuse for speaking,”--he stopped, and corrected +himself--“_I believe_ I mentioned that a valuable inclosure was in the +letter.” + +“You believe?” Mr. Troy repeated. “Can’t you speak more positively than +that?” + +“_I_ can speak positively,” said Lady Lydiard, with her eyes on the +lawyer. “Moody did mention the inclosure in the letter--in Isabel +Miller’s hearing as well as in mine.” She paused, steadily controlling +herself. “And what of that, Mr. Troy?” she added, very quietly and +firmly. + +Mr. Troy answered quietly and firmly, on his side. “I am surprised that +your Ladyship should ask the question,” he said. + +“I persist in repeating the question,” Lady Lydiard rejoined. “I say +that Isabel Miller knew of the inclosure in my letter--and I ask, What +of that?” + +“And I answer,” retorted the impenetrable lawyer, “that the suspicion of +theft rests on your Ladyship’s adopted daughter, and on nobody else.” + +“It’s false!” cried Robert, with a burst of honest indignation. “I wish +to God I had never said a word to you about the loss of the bank-note! +Oh, my Lady! my Lady! don’t let him distress you! What does _he_ know +about it?” + +“Hush!” said Lady Lydiard. “Control yourself, and hear what he has to +say.” She rested her hand on Moody’s shoulder, partly to encourage +him, partly to support herself; and, fixing her eyes again on Mr. Troy, +repeated his last words, “‘Suspicion rests on my adopted daughter, and +on nobody else.’ Why on nobody else?” + +“Is your Ladyship prepared to suspect the Rector of St. Anne’s of +embezzlement, or your own relatives and equals of theft?” Mr. Troy +asked. “Does a shadow of doubt rest on the servants? Not if Mr. Moody’s +evidence is to be believed. Who, to our own certain knowledge, had +access to the letter while it was unsealed? Who was alone in the room +with it? And who knew of the inclosure in it? I leave the answer to your +Ladyship.” + +“Isabel Miller is as incapable of an act of theft as I am. There is my +answer, Mr. Troy.” + +The lawyer bowed resignedly, and advanced to the door. + +“Am I to take your Ladyship’s generous assertion as finally disposing of +the question of the lost bank-note?” he inquired. + +Lady Lydiard met the challenge without shrinking from it. + +“No!” she said. “The loss of the bank-note is known out of my house. +Other persons may suspect this innocent girl as you suspect her. It is +due to Isabel’s reputation--her unstained reputation, Mr. Troy!--that +she should know what has happened, and should have an opportunity of +defending herself. She is in the next room, Moody. Bring her here.” + +Robert’s courage failed him: he trembled at the bare idea of exposing +Isabel to the terrible ordeal that awaited her. “Oh, my Lady!” he +pleaded, “think again before you tell the poor girl that she is +suspected of theft. Keep it a secret from her--the shame of it will +break her heart!” + +“Keep it a secret,” said Lady Lydiard, “when the Rector and the Rector’s +wife both know of it! Do you think they will let the matter rest where +it is, even if I could consent to hush it up? I must write to them; +and I can’t write anonymously after what has happened. Put yourself in +Isabel’s place, and tell me if you would thank the person who knew you +to be innocently exposed to a disgraceful suspicion, and who concealed +it from you? Go, Moody! The longer you delay, the harder it will be.” + +With his head sunk on his breast, with anguish written in every line +of his face, Moody obeyed. Passing slowly down the short passage which +connected the two rooms, and still shrinking from the duty that had +been imposed on him, he paused, looking through the curtains which hung +over the entrance to the boudoir. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE sight that met Moody’s view wrung him to the heart. + +Isabel and the dog were at play together. Among the varied +accomplishments possessed by Tommie, the capacity to take his part at a +game of hide-and-seek was one. His playfellow for the time being put a +shawl or a handkerchief over his head, so as to prevent him from seeing, +and then hid among the furniture a pocketbook, or a cigar-case, or a +purse, or anything else that happened to be at hand, leaving the dog to +find it, with his keen sense of smell to guide him. Doubly relieved +by the fit and the bleeding, Tommie’s spirits had revived; and he +and Isabel had just begun their game when Moody looked into the room, +charged with his terrible errand. “You’re burning, Tommie, you’re +burning!” cried the girl, laughing and clapping her hands. The next +moment she happened to look round and saw Moody through the parted +curtains. His face warned her instantly that something serious had +happened. She advanced a few steps, her eyes resting on him in silent +alarm. He was himself too painfully agitated to speak. Not a word was +exchanged between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy in the next room. In the +complete stillness that prevailed, the dog was heard sniffing and +fidgeting about the furniture. Robert took Isabel by the hand and led +her into the drawing-room. “For God’s sake, spare her, my Lady!” he +whispered. The lawyer heard him. “No,” said Mr. Troy. “Be merciful, and +tell her the truth!” + +He spoke to a woman who stood in no need of his advice. The inherent +nobility in Lady Lydiard’s nature was aroused: her great heart offered +itself patiently to any sorrow, to any sacrifice. + +Putting her arm round Isabel--half caressing her, half supporting +her--Lady Lydiard accepted the whole responsibility and told the whole +truth. + +Reeling under the first shock, the poor girl recovered herself with +admirable courage. She raised her head, and eyed the lawyer without +uttering a word. In its artless consciousness of innocence the look was +nothing less than sublime. Addressing herself to Mr. Troy, Lady Lydiard +pointed to Isabel. “Do you see guilt there?” she asked. + +Mr. Troy made no answer. In the melancholy experience of humanity to +which his profession condemned him, he had seen conscious guilt assume +the face of innocence, and helpless innocence admit the disguise of +guilt: the keenest observation, in either case, failing completely to +detect the truth. Lady Lydiard misinterpreted his silence as expressing +the sullen self-assertion of a heartless man. She turned from him, in +contempt, and held out her hand to Isabel. + +“Mr. Troy is not satisfied yet,” she said bitterly. “My love, take my +hand, and look me in the face as your equal; I know no difference of +rank at such a time as this. Before God, who hears you, are you innocent +of the theft of the bank-note?” + +“Before God, who hears me,” Isabel answered, “I am innocent.” + +Lady Lydiard looked once more at the lawyer, and waited to hear if he +believed _that_. + +Mr. Troy took refuge in dumb diplomacy--he made a low bow. It might have +meant that he believed Isabel, or it might have meant that he modestly +withdrew his own opinion into the background. Lady Lydiard did not +condescend to inquire what it meant. + +“The sooner we bring this painful scene to an end the better,” she said. +“I shall be glad to avail myself of your professional assistance, Mr. +Troy, within certain limits. Outside of my house, I beg that you will +spare no trouble in tracing the lost money to the person who has really +stolen it. Inside of my house, I must positively request that the +disappearance of the note may never be alluded to, in any way whatever, +until your inquiries have been successful in discovering the thief. In +the meanwhile, Mrs. Tollmidge and her family must not be sufferers by +my loss: I shall pay the money again.” She paused, and pressed Isabel’s +hand with affectionate fervor. “My child,” she said, “one last word to +you, and I have done. You remain here, with my trust in you, and my love +for you, absolutely unshaken. When you think of what has been said here +to-day, never forget that.” + +Isabel bent her head, and kissed the kind hand that still held hers. The +high spirit that was in her, inspired by Lady Lydiard’s example, rose +equal to the dreadful situation in which she was placed. + +“No, my Lady,” she said calmly and sadly; “it cannot be. What this +gentleman has said of me is not to be denied--the appearances are +against me. The letter was open, and I was alone in the room with it, +and Mr. Moody told me that a valuable inclosure was inside it. Dear and +kind mistress! I am not fit to be a member of your household, I am not +worthy to live with the honest people who serve you, while my innocence +is in doubt. It is enough for me now that _you_ don’t doubt it. I can +wait patiently, after that, for the day that gives me back my good name. +Oh, my Lady, don’t cry about it! Pray, pray don’t cry!” + +Lady Lydiard’s self-control failed her for the first time. Isabel’s +courage had made Isabel dearer to her than ever. She sank into a chair, +and covered her face with her handkerchief. Mr. Troy turned aside +abruptly, and examined a Japanese vase, without any idea in his mind +of what he was looking at. Lady Lydiard had gravely misjudged him in +believing him to be a heartless man. + +Isabel followed the lawyer, and touched him gently on the arm to rouse +his attention. + +“I have one relation living, sir--an aunt--who will receive me if I go +to her,” she said simply. “Is there any harm in my going? Lady Lydiard +will give you the address when you want me. Spare her Ladyship, sir, all +the pain and trouble that you can.” + +At last the heart that was in Mr. Troy asserted itself. “You are a +fine creature!” he said, with a burst of enthusiasm. “I agree with Lady +Lydiard--I believe you are innocent, too; and I will leave no effort +untried to find the proof of it.” He turned aside again, and had another +look at the Japanese vase. + +As the lawyer withdrew himself from observation, Moody approached +Isabel. + +Thus far he had stood apart, watching her and listening to her in +silence. Not a look that had crossed her face, not a word that +had fallen from her, had escaped him. Unconsciously on her side, +unconsciously on his side, she now wrought on his nature with a +purifying and ennobling influence which animated it with a new life. +All that had been selfish and violent in his passion for her left him to +return no more. The immeasurable devotion which he laid at her feet, in +the days that were yet to come--the unyielding courage which cheerfully +accepted the sacrifice of himself when events demanded it at a later +period of his life--struck root in him now. Without attempting to +conceal the tears that were falling fast over his cheeks--striving +vainly to express those new thoughts in him that were beyond the reach +of words--he stood before her the truest friend and servant that ever +woman had. + +“Oh, my dear! my heart is heavy for you. Take me to serve you and help +you. Her Ladyship’s kindness will permit it, I am sure.” + +He could say no more. In those simple words the cry of his heart reached +her. “Forgive me, Robert,” she answered, gratefully, “if I said anything +to pain you when we spoke together a little while since. I didn’t mean +it.” She gave him her hand, and looked timidly over her shoulder at Lady +Lydiard. “Let me go!” she said, in low, broken tones, “Let me go!” + +Mr. Troy heard her, and stepped forward to interfere before Lady Lydiard +could speak. The man had recovered his self-control; the lawyer took his +place again on the scene. + +“You must not leave us, my dear,” he said to Isabel, “until I have put a +question to Mr. Moody in which you are interested. Do you happen to have +the number of the lost bank-note?” he asked, turning to the steward. + +Moody produced his slip of paper with the number on it. Mr. Troy made +two copies of it before he returned the paper. One copy he put in his +pocket, the other he handed to Isabel. + +“Keep it carefully,” he said. “Neither you nor I know how soon it may be +of use to you.” + +Receiving the copy from him, she felt mechanically in her apron for her +pocketbook. She had used it, in playing with the dog, as an object to +hide from him; but she had suffered, and was still suffering, too keenly +to be capable of the effort of remembrance. Moody, eager to help her +even in the most trifling thing, guessed what had happened. “You were +playing with Tommie,” he said; “is it in the next room?” + +The dog heard his name pronounced through the open door. The next moment +he trotted into the drawing-room with Isabel’s pocketbook in his mouth. +He was a strong, well-grown Scotch terrier of the largest size, with +bright, intelligent eyes, and a coat of thick curling white hair, +diversified by two light brown patches on his back. As he reached +the middle of the room, and looked from one to another of the persons +present, the fine sympathy of his race told him that there was trouble +among his human friends. His tail dropped; he whined softly as he +approached Isabel, and laid her pocketbook at her feet. + +She knelt as she picked up the pocketbook, and raised her playfellow of +happier days to take her leave of him. As the dog put his paws on her +shoulders, returning her caress, her first tears fell. “Foolish of +me,” she said, faintly, “to cry over a dog. I can’t help it. Good-by, +Tommie!” + +Putting him away from her gently, she walked towards the door. The dog +instantly followed. She put him away from her, for the second time, and +left him. He was not to be denied; he followed her again, and took the +skirt of her dress in his teeth, as if to hold her back. Robert forced +the dog, growling and resisting with all his might, to let go of +the dress. “Don’t be rough with him,” said Isabel. “Put him on her +ladyship’s lap; he will be quieter there.” Robert obeyed. He whispered +to Lady Lydiard as she received the dog; she seemed to be still +incapable of speaking--she bowed her head in silent assent. Robert +hurried back to Isabel before she had passed the door. “Not alone!” he +said entreatingly. “Her Ladyship permits it, Isabel. Let me see you safe +to your aunt’s house.” + +Isabel looked at him, felt for him, and yielded. + +“Yes,” she answered softly; “to make amends for what I said to you when +I was thoughtless and happy!” She waited a little to compose herself +before she spoke her farewell words to Lady Lydiard. “Good-by, my Lady. +Your kindness has not been thrown away on an ungrateful girl. I love +you, and thank you, with all my heart.” + +Lady Lydiard rose, placing the dog on the chair as she left it. She +seemed to have grown older by years, instead of by minutes, in the short +interval that had passed since she had hidden her face from view. “I +can’t bear it!” she cried, in husky, broken tones. “Isabel! Isabel! I +forbid you to leave me!” + +But one person could venture to resist her. That person was Mr. +Troy--and Mr. Troy knew it. + +“Control yourself,” he said to her in a whisper. “The girl is doing +what is best and most becoming in her position--and is doing it with +a patience and courage wonderful to see. She places herself under the +protection of her nearest relative, until her character is vindicated +and her position in your house is once more beyond a doubt. Is this a +time to throw obstacles in her way? Be worthy of yourself, Lady Lydiard +and think of the day when she will return to you without the breath of a +suspicion to rest on her!” + +There was no disputing with him--he was too plainly in the right. Lady +Lydiard submitted; she concealed the torture that her own resolution +inflicted on her with an endurance which was, indeed, worthy of herself. +Taking Isabel in her arms she kissed her in a passion of sorrow and +love. “My poor dear! My own sweet girl! don’t suppose that this is a +parting kiss! I shall see you again--often and often I shall see you +again at your aunt’s!” At a sign from Mr. Troy, Robert took Isabel’s arm +in his and led her away. Tommie, watching her from his chair, lifted +his little white muzzle as his playfellow looked back on passing the +doorway. The long, melancholy, farewell howl of the dog was the last +sound Isabel Miller heard as she left the house. + + + + + +PART THE SECOND. + +THE DISCOVERY. + +CHAPTER VIII. + +ON the day after Isabel’s departure, diligent Mr. Troy set forth for the +Head Office in Whitehall to consult the police on the question of the +missing money. He had previously sent information of the robbery to +the Bank of England, and had also advertised the loss in the daily +newspapers. + +The air was so pleasant, and the sun was so bright, that he determined +on proceeding to his destination on foot. He was hardly out of sight of +his own offices when he was overtaken by a friend, who was also +walking in the direction of Whitehall. This gentleman was a person +of considerable worldly wisdom and experience; he had been officially +associated with cases of striking and notorious crime, in which +Government had lent its assistance to discover and punish the criminals. +The opinion of a person in this position might be of the greatest value +to Mr. Troy, whose practice as a solicitor had thus far never brought +him into collision with thieves and mysteries. He accordingly decided, +in Isabel’s interests, on confiding to his friend the nature of his +errand to the police. Concealing the name, but concealing nothing else, +he described what had happened on the previous day at Lady Lydiard’s +house, and then put the question plainly to his companion. + +“What would you do in my place?” + +“In your place,” his friend answered quietly, “I should not waste time +and money in consulting the police.” + +“Not consult the police!” exclaimed Mr. Troy in amazement. “Surely, I +have not made myself understood? I am going to the Head Office; and +I have got a letter of introduction to the chief inspector in the +detective department. I am afraid I omitted to mention that?” + +“It doesn’t make any difference,” proceeded the other, as coolly as +ever. “You have asked for my advice, and I give you my advice. Tear +up your letter of introduction, and don’t stir a step further in the +direction of Whitehall.” + +Mr. Troy began to understand. “You don’t believe in the detective +police?” he said. + +“Who _can_ believe in them, who reads his newspaper and remembers +what he reads?” his friend rejoined. “Fortunately for the detective +department, the public in general forgets what it reads. Go to your +club, and look at the criminal history of our own time, recorded in the +newspapers. Every crime is more or less a mystery. You will see that +the mysteries which the police discover are, almost without exception, +mysteries made penetrable by the commonest capacity, through the +extraordinary stupidity exhibited in the means taken to hide the +crime. On the other hand, let the guilty man or woman be a resolute and +intelligent person, capable of setting his (or her) wits fairly against +the wits of the police--in other words, let the mystery really _be_ +a mystery--and cite me a case if you can (a really difficult and +perplexing case) in which the criminal has not escaped. Mind! I don’t +charge the police with neglecting their work. No doubt they do their +best, and take the greatest pains in following the routine to which they +have been trained. It is their misfortune, not their fault, that there +is no man of superior intelligence among them--I mean no man who is +capable, in great emergencies, of placing himself above conventional +methods, and following a new way of his own. There have been such men in +the police--men naturally endowed with that faculty of mental analysis +which can decompose a mystery, resolve it into its component parts, +and find the clue at the bottom, no matter how remote from ordinary +observation it may be. But those men have died, or have retired. One +of them would have been invaluable to you in the case you have just +mentioned to me. As things are, unless you are wrong in believing in the +young lady’s innocence, the person who has stolen that bank-note will +be no easy person to find. In my opinion, there is only one man now in +London who is likely to be of the slightest assistance to you--and he is +not in the police.” + +“Who is he?” asked Mr. Troy. + +“An old rogue, who was once in your branch of the legal profession,” + the friend answered. “You may, perhaps, remember the name: they call him +‘Old Sharon.’” + +“What! The scoundrel who was struck off the Roll of Attorneys, years +since? Is he still alive?” + +“Alive and prospering. He lives in a court or lane running out of Long +Acre, and he offers advice to persons interested in recovering missing +objects of any sort. Whether you have lost your wife, or lost your +cigar-case, Old Sharon is equally useful to you. He has an inbred +capacity for reading the riddle the right way in cases of mystery, great +or small. In short, he possesses exactly that analytical faculty to +which I alluded just now. I have his address at my office, if you think +it worth while to try him.” + +“Who can trust such a man?” Mr. Troy objected. “He would be sure to +deceive me.” + +“You are entirely mistaken. Since he was struck off the Rolls Old Sharon +has discovered that the straight way is, on the whole, the best way, +even in a man’s own interests. His consultation fee is a guinea; and he +gives a signed estimate beforehand for any supplementary expenses +that may follow. I can tell you (this is, of course, strictly between +ourselves) that the authorities at my office took his advice in a +Government case that puzzled the police. We approached him, of course, +through persons who were to be trusted to represent us, without +betraying the source from which their instructions were derived; and we +found the old rascal’s advice well worth paying for. It is quite likely +that he may not succeed so well in your case. Try the police, by all +means; and, if they fail, why, there is Sharon as a last resort.” + +This arrangement commended itself to Mr. Troy’s professional caution. He +went on to Whitehall, and he tried the detective police. + +They at once adopted the obvious conclusion to persons of ordinary +capacity--the conclusion that Isabel was the thief. + +Acting on this conviction, the authorities sent an experienced woman +from the office to Lady Lydiard’s house, to examine the poor girl’s +clothes and ornaments before they were packed up and sent after her to +her aunt’s. The search led to nothing. The only objects of any value +that were discovered had been presents from Lady Lydiard. No jewelers’ +or milliners’ bills were among the papers found in her desk. Not a sign +of secret extravagance in dress was to be seen anywhere. Defeated so +far, the police proposed next to have Isabel privately watched. There +might be a prodigal lover somewhere in the background, with ruin staring +him in the face unless he could raise five hundred pounds. Lady Lydiard +(who had only consented to the search under stress of persuasive +argument from Mr. Troy) resented this ingenious idea as an insult. She +declared that if Isabel was watched the girl should know of it instantly +from her own lips. The police listened with perfect resignation and +decorum, and politely shifted their ground. A certain suspicion (they +remarked) always rested in cases of this sort on the servants. Would +her Ladyship object to private inquiries into the characters and +proceedings of the servants? Her Ladyship instantly objected, in the +most positive terms. Thereupon the “Inspector” asked for a minute’s +private conversation with Mr. Troy. “The thief is certainly a member +of Lady Lydiard’s household,” this functionary remarked, in his +politely-positive way. “If her Ladyship persists in refusing to let us +make the necessary inquiries, our hands are tied, and the case comes +to an end through no fault of ours. If her Ladyship changes her mind, +perhaps you will drop me a line, sir, to that effect. Good-morning.” + +So the experiment of consulting the police came to an untimely end. +The one result obtained was the expression of purblind opinion by the +authorities of the detective department which pointed to Isabel, or to +one of the servants, as the undiscovered thief. Thinking the matter over +in the retirement of his own office--and not forgetting his promise to +Isabel to leave no means untried of establishing her innocence--Mr. Troy +could see but one alternative left to him. He took up his pen, and wrote +to his friend at the Government office. There was nothing for it now but +to run the risk, and try Old Sharon. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE next day, Mr. Troy (taking Robert Moody with him as a valuable +witness) rang the bell at the mean and dirty lodging-house in which Old +Sharon received the clients who stood in need of his advice. + +They were led up stairs to a back room on the second floor of the house. +Entering the room, they discovered through a thick cloud of tobacco +smoke, a small, fat, bald-headed, dirty, old man, in an arm-chair, robed +in a tattered flannel dressing-gown, with a short pipe in his mouth, a +pug-dog on his lap, and a French novel in his hands. + +“Is it business?” asked Old Sharon, speaking in a hoarse, asthmatical +voice, and fixing a pair of bright, shameless, black eyes attentively on +the two visitors. + +“It _is_ business,” Mr. Troy answered, looking at the old rogue who had +disgraced an honorable profession, as he might have looked at a reptile +which had just risen rampant at his feet. “What is your fee for a +consultation?” + +“You give me a guinea, and I’ll give you half an hour.” With this reply +Old Sharon held out his unwashed hand across the rickety ink-splashed +table at which he was sitting. + +Mr. Troy would not have touched him with the tips of his own fingers for +a thousand pounds. He laid the guinea on the table. + +Old Sharon burst into a fierce laugh--a laugh strangely accompanied by a +frowning contraction of his eyebrows, and a frightful exhibition of the +whole inside of his mouth. “I’m not clean enough for you--eh?” he said, +with an appearance of being very much amused. “There’s a dirty old man +described in this book that is a little like me.” He held up his French +novel. “Have you read it? A capital story--well put together. Ah, you +haven’t read it? You have got a pleasure to come. I say, do you mind +tobacco-smoke? I think faster while I smoke--that’s all.” + +Mr. Troy’s respectable hand waved a silent permission to smoke, given +under dignified protest. + +“All right,” said Old Sharon. “Now, get on.” + +He laid himself back in his chair, and puffed out his smoke, with eyes +lazily half closed, like the eyes of the pug-dog on his lap. At that +moment, indeed there was a curious resemblance between the two. They +both seemed to be preparing themselves, in the same idle way, for the +same comfortable nap. + +Mr. Troy stated the circumstances under which the five hundred pound +note had disappeared, in clear and consecutive narrative. When he had +done, Old Sharon suddenly opened his eyes. The pug-dog suddenly opened +his eyes. Old Sharon looked hard at Mr. Troy. The pug looked hard at Mr. +Troy. Old Sharon spoke. The pug growled. + +“I know who you are--you’re a lawyer. Don’t be alarmed! I never saw +you before; and I don’t know your name. What I do know is a lawyer’s +statement of facts when I hear it. Who’s this?” Old Sharon looked +inquisitively at Moody as he put the question. + +Mr. Troy introduced Moody as a competent witness, thoroughly acquainted +with the circumstances, and ready and willing to answer any questions +relating to them. Old Sharon waited a little, smoking hard and thinking +hard. “Now, then!” he burst out in his fiercely sudden way. “I’m going +to get to the root of the matter.” + +He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, and began his +examination of Moody. Heartily as Mr. Troy despised and disliked the old +rogue, he listened with astonishment and admiration--literally extorted +from him by the marvelous ability with which the questions were adapted +to the end in view. In a quarter of an hour Old Sharon had extracted +from the witness everything, literally everything down to the smallest +detail, that Moody could tell him. Having now, in his own phrase, +“got to the root of the matter,” he relighted his pipe with a grunt of +satisfaction, and laid himself back in his old armchair. + +“Well?” said Mr. Troy. “Have you formed your opinion?” + +“Yes; I’ve formed my opinion.” + +“What is it?” + +Instead of replying, Old Sharon winked confidentially at Mr. Troy, and +put a question on his side. + +“I say! is a ten-pound note much of an object to you?” + +“It depends on what the money is wanted for,” answered Mr. Troy. + +“Look here,” said Old Sharon; “I give you an opinion for your guinea; +but, mind this, it’s an opinion founded on hearsay--and you know as a +lawyer what that is worth. Venture your ten pounds--in plain English, +pay me for my time and trouble in a baffling and difficult case--and +I’ll give you an opinion founded on my own experience.” + +“Explain yourself a little more clearly,” said Mr. Troy. “What do you +guarantee to tell us if we venture the ten pounds?” + +“I guarantee to name the person, or the persons, on whom the suspicion +really rests. And if you employ me after that, I guarantee (before you +pay me a halfpenny more) to prove that I am right by laying my hand on +the thief.” + +“Let us have the guinea opinion first,” said Mr. Troy. + +Old Sharon made another frightful exhibition of the whole inside of his +mouth; his laugh was louder and fiercer than ever. “I like you!” he said +to Mr. Troy, “you are so devilish fond of your money. Lord! how rich you +must be! Now listen. Here’s the guinea opinion: Suspect, in this case, +the very last person on whom suspicion could possibly fall.” + +Moody, listening attentively, started, and changed color at those last +words. Mr. Troy looked thoroughly disappointed and made no attempt to +conceal it. + +“Is that all?” he asked. + +“All?” retorted the cynical vagabond. “You’re a pretty lawyer! What more +can I say, when I don’t know for certain whether the witness who has +given me my information has misled me or not? Have I spoken to the girl +and formed my own opinion? No! Have I been introduced among the servants +(as errand-boy, or to clean the boots and shoes, or what not), and +have I formed my own judgement of _them?_ No! I take your opinions for +granted, and I tell you how I should set to work myself if they +were _my_ opinions too--and that’s a guinea’s-worth, a devilish good +guinea’s-worth to a rich man like you!” + +Old Sharon’s logic produced a certain effect on Mr. Troy, in spite of +himself. It was smartly put from his point of view--there was no denying +that. + +“Even if I consented to your proposal,” he said, “I should object to +your annoying the young lady with impertinent questions, or to your +being introduced as a spy into a respectable house.” + +Old Sharon doubled his dirty fists and drummed with them on the rickety +table in a comical frenzy of impatience while Mr. Troy was speaking. + +“What the devil do you know about my way of doing my business?” he burst +out when the lawyer had done. “One of us two is talking like a born +idiot--and (mind this) it isn’t me. Look here! Your young lady goes out +for a walk, and she meets with a dirty, shabby old beggar--I look like +a shabby old beggar already, don’t I? Very good. This dirty old wretch +whines and whimpers and tells a long story, and gets sixpence out of the +girl--and knows her by that time, inside and out, as well as if he had +made her--and, mark! hasn’t asked her a single question, and, instead +of annoying her, has made her happy in the performance of a charitable +action. Stop a bit! I haven’t done with you yet. Who blacks your boots +and shoes? Look here!” He pushed his pug-dog off his lap, dived under +the table, appeared again with an old boot and a bottle of blackening, +and set to work with tigerish activity. “I’m going out for a walk, you +know, and I may as well make myself smart.” With that announcement, he +began to sing over his work--a song of sentiment, popular in England in +the early part of the present century--“She’s all my fancy painted her; +she’s lovely, she’s divine; but her heart it is another’s; and it never +can be mine! Too-ral-loo-ral-loo’. I like a love-song. Brush away! brush +away! till I see my own pretty face in the blacking. Hey! Here’s a nice, +harmless, jolly old man! sings and jokes over his work, and makes the +kitchen quite cheerful. What’s that you say? He’s a stranger, and don’t +talk to him too freely. You ought to be ashamed of yourself to speak in +that way of a poor old fellow with one foot in the grave. Mrs. Cook will +give him a nice bit of dinner in the scullery; and John Footman will +look out an old coat for him. And when he’s heard everything he wants to +hear, and doesn’t come back again the next day to his work--what do they +think of it in the servants’ hall? Do they say, ‘We’ve had a spy among +us!’ Yah! you know better than that, by this time. The cheerful old +man has been run over in the street, or is down with the fever, or has +turned up his toes in the parish dead-house--that’s what they say in +the servants’ hall. Try me in your own kitchen, and see if your servants +take me for a spy. Come, come, Mr. Lawyer! out with your ten pounds, and +don’t waste any more precious time about it!” + +“I will consider and let you know,” said Mr. Troy. + +Old Sharon laughed more ferociously than ever, and hobbled round the +table in a great hurry to the place at which Moody was sitting. He laid +one hand on the steward’s shoulder, and pointed derisively with the +other to Mr. Troy. + +“I say, Mr. Silent-man! Bet you five pounds I never hear of that lawyer +again!” + +Silently attentive all through the interview (except when he was +answering questions), Moody only replied in the fewest words. “I don’t +bet,” was all he said. He showed no resentment at Sharon’s familiarity, +and he appeared to find no amusement in Sharon’s extraordinary talk. +The old vagabond seemed actually to produce a serious impression on him! +When Mr. Troy set the example of rising to go, he still kept his seat, +and looked at the lawyer as if he regretted leaving the atmosphere of +tobacco smoke reeking in the dirty room. + +“Have you anything to say before we go?” Mr. Troy asked. + +Moody rose slowly and looked at Old Sharon. “Not just now, sir,” he +replied, looking away again, after a moment’s reflection. + +Old Sharon interpreted Moody’s look and Moody’s reply from his own +peculiar point of view. He suddenly drew the steward away into a corner +of the room. + +“I say!” he began, in a whisper. “Upon your solemn word of honor, you +know--are you as rich as the lawyer there?” + +“Certainly not.” + +“Look here! It’s half price to a poor man. If you feel like coming back, +on your own account--five pounds will do from _you_. There! there! Think +of it!--think of it!” + +“Now, then!” said Mr. Troy, waiting for his companion, with the door +open in his hand. He looked back at Sharon when Moody joined him. The +old vagabond was settled again in his armchair, with his dog in his +lap, his pipe in his mouth, and his French novel in his hand; exhibiting +exactly the picture of frowzy comfort which he had presented when his +visitors first entered the room. + +“Good-day,” said Mr. Troy, with haughty condescension. + +“Don’t interrupt me!” rejoined Old Sharon, absorbed in his novel. +“You’ve had your guinea’s worth. Lord! what a lovely book this is! Don’t +interrupt me!” + +“Impudent scoundrel!” said Mr. Troy, when he and Moody were in the +street again. “What could my friend mean by recommending him? Fancy his +expecting me to trust him with ten pounds! I consider even the guinea +completely thrown away.” + +“Begging your pardon, sir,” said Moody, “I don’t quite agree with you +there.” + +“What! you don’t mean to tell me you understand that oracular sentence +of his--‘Suspect the very last person on whom suspicion could possibly +fall.’ Rubbish!” + +“I don’t say I understand it, sir. I only say it has set me thinking.” + +“Thinking of what? Do your suspicions point to the thief?” + +“If you will please to excuse me, Mr. Troy, I should like to wait a +while before I answer that.” + +Mr. Troy suddenly stood still, and eyed his companion a little +distrustfully. + +“Are you going to turn detective-policeman on your own account?” he +asked. + +“There’s nothing I won’t turn to, and try, to help Miss Isabel in this +matter,” Moody answered, firmly. “I have saved a few hundred pounds in +Lady Lydiard’s service, and I am ready to spend every farthing of it, if +I can only discover the thief.” + +Mr. Troy walked on again. “Miss Isabel seems to have a good friend in +you,” he said. He was (perhaps unconsciously) a little offended by +the independent tone in which the steward spoke, after he had himself +engaged to take the vindication of the girl’s innocence into his own +hands. + +“Miss Isabel has a devoted servant and slave in me!” Moody answered, +with passionate enthusiasm. + +“Very creditable; I haven’t a word to say against it,” Mr. Troy +rejoined. “But don’t forget that the young lady has other devoted +friends besides you. I am her devoted friend, for instance--I have +promised to serve her, and I mean to keep my word. You will excuse me +for adding that my experience and discretion are quite as likely to be +useful to her as your enthusiasm. I know the world well enough to be +careful in trusting strangers. It will do you no harm, Mr. Moody, to +follow my example.” + +Moody accepted his reproof with becoming patience and resignation. +“If you have anything to propose, sir, that will be of service to Miss +Isabel,” he said, “I shall be happy if I can assist you in the humblest +capacity.” + +“And if not?” Mr. Troy inquired, conscious of having nothing to propose +as he asked the question. + +“In that case, sir, I must take my own course, and blame nobody but +myself if it leads me astray.” + +Mr. Troy said no more: he parted from Moody at the next turning. + +Pursuing the subject privately in his own mind, he decided on taking +the earliest opportunity of visiting Isabel at her aunt’s house, and on +warning her, in her future intercourse with Moody, not to trust too much +to the steward’s discretion. “I haven’t a doubt,” thought the lawyer, +“of what he means to do next. The infatuated fool is going back to Old +Sharon!” + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +RETURNING to his office, Mr. Troy discovered, among the correspondence +that was waiting for him, a letter from the very person whose welfare +was still the uppermost subject in his mind. Isabel Miller wrote in +these terms: + +“Dear Sir--My aunt, Miss Pink, is very desirous of consulting you +professionally at the earliest opportunity. Although South Morden is +within little more than half an hour’s railway ride from London, Miss +Pink does not presume to ask you to visit her, being well aware of the +value of your time. Will you, therefore, be so kind as to let me know +when it will be convenient to you to receive my aunt at your office in +London? Believe me, dear sir, respectfully yours, ISABEL MILLER. +P.S.--I am further instructed to say that the regrettable event at Lady +Lydiard’s house is the proposed subject of the consultation. The Lawn, +South Morden. Thursday.” + +Mr. Troy smiled as he read the letter. “Too formal for a young girl!” he +said to himself. “Every word of it has been dictated by Miss Pink.” + He was not long in deciding what course he should take. There was a +pressing necessity for cautioning Isabel, and here was his opportunity. +He sent for his head clerk, and looked at his list of engagements for +the day. There was nothing set down in the book which the clerk was +not quite as well able to do as the master. Mr. Troy consulted his +railway-guide, ordered his cab, and caught the next train to South Morden. + +South Morden was then (and remains to this day) one of those primitive +agricultural villages, passed over by the march of modern progress, +which are still to be found in the near neighborhood of London. Only the +slow trains stopped at the station and there was so little to do that +the station-master and his porter grew flowers on the embankment, and +trained creepers over the waiting-room window. Turning your back on the +railway, and walking along the one street of South Morden, you found +yourself in the old England of two centuries since. Gabled cottages, +with fast-closed windows; pigs and poultry in quiet possession of the +road; the venerable church surrounded by its shady burial-ground; the +grocer’s shop which sold everything, and the butcher’s shop which sold +nothing; the scarce inhabitants who liked a good look at a stranger, and +the unwashed children who were pictures of dirty health; the clash of +the iron-chained bucket in the public well, and the thump of the falling +nine-pins in the skittle-ground behind the public-house; the horse-pond +on the one bit of open ground, and the old elm-tree with the wooden seat +round it on the other--these were some of the objects that you saw, and +some of the noises that you heard in South Morden, as you passed from +one end of the village to the other. + +About half a mile beyond the last of the old cottages, modern England +met you again under the form of a row of little villas, set up by an +adventurous London builder who had bought the land a bargain. Each villa +stood in its own little garden, and looked across a stony road at the +meadow lands and softly-rising wooded hills beyond. Each villa faced you +in the sunshine with the horrid glare of new red brick, and forced its +nonsensical name on your attention, traced in bright paint on the posts +of its entrance gate. Consulting the posts as he advanced, Mr. Troy +arrived in due course of time at the villa called The Lawn, which +derived its name apparently from a circular patch of grass in front of +the house. The gate resisting his efforts to open it, he rang the bell. + +Admitted by a trim, clean, shy little maid-servant, Mr. Troy looked +about him in amazement. Turn which way he might, he found himself +silently confronted by posted and painted instructions to visitors, +which forbade him to do this, and commanded him to do that, at every +step of his progress from the gate to the house. On the side of the lawn +a label informed him that he was not to walk on the grass. On the other +side a painted hand pointed along a boundary-wall to an inscription +which warned him to go that way if he had business in the kitchen. On +the gravel walk at the foot of the housesteps words, neatly traced in +little white shells, reminded him not to “forget the scraper”. On the +doorstep he was informed, in letters of lead, that he was “Welcome!” + On the mat in the passage bristly black words burst on his attention, +commanding him to “wipe his shoes.” Even the hat-stand in the hall was +not allowed to speak for itself; it had “Hats and Cloaks” inscribed on +it, and it issued its directions imperatively in the matter of your wet +umbrella--“Put it here!” + +Giving the trim little servant his card, Mr. Troy was introduced to a +reception-room on the lower floor. Before he had time to look round him +the door was opened again from without, and Isabel stole into the room +on tiptoe. She looked worn and anxious. When she shook hands with the +old lawyer the charming smile that he remembered so well was gone. + +“Don’t say you have seen me,” she whispered. “I am not to come into the +room till my aunt sends for me. Tell me two things before I run away +again. How is Lady Lydiard? And have you discovered the thief?” + +“Lady Lydiard was well when I last saw her; and we have not yet +succeeded in discovering the thief.” Having answered the questions in +those terms, Mr. Troy decided on cautioning Isabel on the subject of +the steward while he had the chance. “One question on my side,” he said, +holding her back from the door by the arm. “Do you expect Moody to visit +you here?” + +“I am _sure_ he will visit me,” Isabel answered warmly. “He has promised +to come here at my request. I never knew what a kind heart Robert Moody +had till this misfortune fell on me. My aunt, who is not easily taken +with strangers, respects and admires him. I can’t tell you how good he +was to me on the journey here--and how kindly, how nobly, he spoke to +me when we parted.” She paused, and turned her head away. The tears were +rising in her eyes. “In my situation,” she said faintly, “kindness is +very keenly felt. Don’t notice me, Mr. Troy.” + +The lawyer waited a moment to let her recover herself. + +“I agree entirely, my dear, in your opinion of Moody,” he said. “At the +same time, I think it right to warn you that his zeal in your service +may possibly outrun his discretion. He may feel too confidently about +penetrating the mystery of the missing money; and, unless you are on +your guard, he may raise false hopes in you when you next see him. +Listen to any advice that he may give you, by all means. But, before you +decide on being guided by his opinion, consult my older experience, +and hear what I have to say on the subject. Don’t suppose that I am +attempting to make you distrust this good friend,” he added, noticing +the look of uneasy surprise which Isabel fixed on him. “No such idea is +in my mind. I only warn you that Moody’s eagerness to be of service to +you may mislead him. You understand me.” + +“Yes, sir,” replied Isabel coldly; “I understand you. Please let me go +now. My aunt will be down directly; and she must not find me here.” She +curtseyed with distant respect, and left the room. + +“So much for trying to put two ideas together into a girl’s mind!” + thought Mr. Troy, when he was alone again. “The little fool evidently +thinks I am jealous of Moody’s place in her estimation. Well! I have +done my duty--and I can do no more.” + +He looked round the room. Not a chair was out of its place, not a speck +of dust was to be seen. The brightly-perfect polish of the table made +your eyes ache; the ornaments on it looked as if they had never been +touched by mortal hand; the piano was an object for distant admiration, +not an instrument to be played on; the carpet made Mr. Troy look +nervously at the soles of his shoes; and the sofa (protected by layers +of white crochet-work) said as plainly as if in words, “Sit on me if you +dare!” Mr. Troy retreated to a bookcase at the further end of the room. +The books fitted the shelves to such absolute perfection that he had +some difficulty in taking one of them out. When he had succeeded, he +found himself in possession of a volume of the History of England. On +the fly-leaf he encountered another written warning:--“This book belongs +to Miss Pink’s Academy for Young Ladies, and is not to be removed from +the library.” The date, which was added, referred to a period of ten +years since. Miss Pink now stood revealed as a retired schoolmistress, +and Mr. Troy began to understand some of the characteristic +peculiarities of that lady’s establishment which had puzzled him up to +the present time. + +He had just succeeded in putting the book back again when the door +opened once more, and Isabel’s aunt entered the room. + +If Miss Pink could, by any possible conjuncture of circumstances, have +disappeared mysteriously from her house and her friends, the police +would have found the greatest difficulty in composing the necessary +description of the missing lady. The acutest observer could have +discovered nothing that was noticeable or characteristic in her personal +appearance. The pen of the present writer portrays her in despair by a +series of negatives. She was not young, she was not old; she was neither +tall nor short, nor stout nor thin; nobody could call her features +attractive, and nobody could call them ugly; there was nothing in her +voice, her expression, her manner, or her dress that differed in any +appreciable degree from the voice, expression, manner, and dress of +five hundred thousand other single ladies of her age and position in +the world. If you had asked her to describe herself, she would have +answered, “I am a gentlewoman”; and if you had further inquired which +of her numerous accomplishments took highest rank in her own esteem, she +would have replied, “My powers of conversation.” For the rest, she was +Miss Pink, of South Morden; and, when that has been said, all has been +said. + +“Pray be seated, sir. We have had a beautiful day, after the +long-continued wet weather. I am told that the season is very +unfavorable for wall-fruit. May I offer you some refreshment after +your journey?” In these terms and in the smoothest of voices, Miss Pink +opened the interview. + +Mr. Troy made a polite reply, and added a few strictly conventional +remarks on the beauty of the neighborhood. Not even a lawyer could sit +in Miss Pink’s presence, and hear Miss Pink’s conversation, without +feeling himself called upon (in the nursery phrase) to “be on his best +behavior”. + +“It is extremely kind of you, Mr. Troy, to favor me with this visit,” + Miss Pink resumed. “I am well aware that the time of professional +gentlemen is of especial value to them; and I will therefore ask you +to excuse me if I proceed abruptly to the subject on which I desire to +consult your experience.” + +Here the lady modestly smoothed out her dress over her knees, and the +lawyer made a bow. Miss Pink’s highly-trained conversation had perhaps +one fault--it was not, strictly speaking, conversation at all. In its +effect on her hearers it rather resembled the contents of a fluently +conventional letter, read aloud. + +“The circumstances under which my niece Isabel has left Lady Lydiard’s +house,” Miss Pink proceeded, “are so indescribably painful--I will go +further, I will say so deeply humiliating--that I have forbidden her to +refer to them again in my presence, or to mention them in the future +to any living creature besides myself. You are acquainted with those +circumstances, Mr. Troy; and you will understand my indignation when I +first learnt that my sister’s child had been suspected of theft. I +have not the honor of being acquainted with Lady Lydiard. She is not +a Countess, I believe? Just so! Her husband was only a Baron. I am not +acquainted with Lady Lydiard; and I will not trust myself to say what I +think of her conduct to my niece.” + +“Pardon me, madam,” Mr. Troy interposed. “Before you say any more about +Lady Lydiard, I really must beg leave to observe--” + +“Pardon _me_,” Miss Pink rejoined. “I never form a hasty judgment. Lady +Lydiard’s conduct is beyond the reach of any defense, no matter how +ingenious it may be. You may not be aware, sir, that in receiving my +niece under her roof her Ladyship was receiving a gentlewoman by birth +as well as by education. My late lamented sister was the daughter of a +clergyman of the Church of England. I need hardly remind you that, +as such, she was a born lady. Under favoring circumstances, Isabel’s +maternal grandfather might have been Archbishop of Canterbury, and have +taken precedence of the whole House of Peers, the Princes of the blood +Royal alone excepted. I am not prepared to say that my niece is equally +well connected on her father’s side. My sister surprised--I will not add +shocked--us when she married a chemist. At the same time, a chemist +is not a tradesman. He is a gentleman at one end of the profession of +Medicine, and a titled physician is a gentleman at the other end. That +is all. In inviting Isabel to reside with her, Lady Lydiard, I repeat, +was bound to remember that she was associating herself with a young +gentlewoman. She has _not_ remembered this, which is one insult; and she +has suspected my niece of theft, which is another.” + +Miss Pink paused to take breath. Mr. Troy made a second attempt to get a +hearing. + +“Will you kindly permit me, madam, to say a few words?” + +“No!” said Miss Pink, asserting the most immovable obstinacy under +the blandest politeness of manner. “Your time, Mr. Troy, is really too +valuable! Not even your trained intellect can excuse conduct which is +manifestly _in_excusable on the face of it. Now you know my opinion of +Lady Lydiard, you will not be surprised to hear that I decline to trust +her Ladyship. She may, or she may not, cause the necessary inquiries +to be made for the vindication of my niece’s character. In a matter so +serious as this--I may say, in a duty which I owe to the memories of +my sister and my parents--I will not leave the responsibility to Lady +Lydiard. I will take it on myself. Let me add that I am able to pay the +necessary expenses. The earlier years of my life, Mr. Troy, have been +passed in the tuition of young ladies. I have been happy in meriting the +confidence of parents; and I have been strict in observing the golden +rules of economy. On my retirement, I have been able to invest a modest, +a very modest, little fortune in the Funds. A portion of it is at the +service of my niece for the recovery of her good name; and I desire to +place the necessary investigation confidentially in your hands. You are +acquainted with the case, and the case naturally goes to you. I could +not prevail on myself--I really could not prevail on myself--to mention +it to a stranger. That is the business on which I wished to consult you. +Please say nothing more about Lady Lydiard--the subject is inexpressibly +disagreeable to me. I will only trespass on your kindness to tell me if +I have succeeded in making myself understood.” + +Miss Pink leaned back in her chair, at the exact angle permitted by the +laws of propriety; rested her left elbow on the palm of her right hand, +and lightly supported her cheek with her forefinger and thumb. In this +position she waited Mr. Troy’s answer--the living picture of human +obstinacy in its most respectable form. + +If Mr. Troy had not been a lawyer--in other words, if he had not been +professionally capable of persisting in his own course, in the face of +every conceivable difficulty and discouragement--Miss Pink might have +remained in undisturbed possession of her own opinions. As it was, Mr. +Troy had got his hearing at last; and no matter how obstinately she +might close her eyes to it, Miss Pink was now destined to have the other +side of the case presented to her view. + +“I am sincerely obliged to you, madam, for the expression of your +confidence in me,” Mr. Troy began; “at the same time, I must beg you to +excuse me if I decline to accept your proposal.” + +Miss Pink had not expected to receive such an answer as this. The +lawyer’s brief refusal surprised and annoyed her. + +“Why do you decline to assist me?” she asked. + +“Because,” answered Mr. Troy, “my services are already engaged, in Miss +Isabel’s interest, by a client whom I have served for more than twenty +years. My client is--” + +Miss Pink anticipated the coming disclosure. “You need not trouble +yourself, sir, to mention your client’s name,” she said. + +“My client,” persisted Mr. Troy, “loves Miss Isabel dearly.” + +“That is a matter of opinion,” Miss Pink interposed. + +“And believes in Miss Isabel’s innocence,” proceeded the irrepressible +lawyer, “as firmly as you believe in it yourself.” + +Miss Pink (being human) had a temper; and Mr. Troy had found his way to +it. + +“If Lady Lydiard believes in my niece’s innocence,” said Miss Pink, +suddenly sitting bolt upright in her chair, “why has my niece been +compelled, in justice to herself, to leave Lady Lydiard’s house?” + +“You will admit, madam,” Mr. Troy answered cautiously, “that we are all +of us liable, in this wicked world, to be the victims of appearances. +Your niece is a victim--an innocent victim. She wisely withdraws from +Lady Lydiard’s house until appearances are proved to be false and her +position is cleared up.” + +Miss Pink had her reply ready. “That is simply acknowledging, in other +words, that my niece is suspected. I am only a woman, Mr. Troy--but it +is not quite so easy to mislead me as you seem to suppose.” + +Mr. Troy’s temper was admirably trained. But it began to acknowledge +that Miss Pink’s powers of irritation could sting to some purpose. + +“No intention of misleading you, madam, has ever crossed my mind,” he +rejoined warmly. “As for your niece, I can tell you this. In all my +experience of Lady Lydiard, I never saw her so distressed as she was +when Miss Isabel left the house!” + +“Indeed!” said Miss Pink, with an incredulous smile. “In my rank of +life, when we feel distressed about a person, we do our best to comfort +that person by a kind letter or an early visit. But then I am not a lady +of title.” + +“Lady Lydiard engaged herself to call on Miss Isabel in my hearing,” + said Mr. Troy. “Lady Lydiard is the most generous woman living!” + +“Lady Lydiard is here!” cried a joyful voice on the other side of the +door. + +At the same moment, Isabel burst into the room in a state of excitement +which actually ignored the formidable presence of Miss Pink. “I beg your +pardon, aunt! I was upstairs at the window, and I saw the carriage +stop at the gate. And Tommie has come, too! The darling saw me at the +window!” cried the poor girl, her eyes sparkling with delight as a +perfect explosion of barking made itself heard over the tramp of horses’ +feet and the crash of carriage wheels outside. + +Miss Pink rose slowly, with a dignity that looked capable of adequately +receiving--not one noble lady only, but the whole peerage of England. + +“Control yourself, dear Isabel,” she said. “No well-bred young lady +permits herself to become unduly excited. Stand by my side--a little +behind me.” + +Isabel obeyed. Mr. Troy kept his place, and privately enjoyed his +triumph over Miss Pink. If Lady Lydiard had been actually in league with +him, she could not have chosen a more opportune time for her visit. A +momentary interval passed. The carriage drew up at the door; the horses +trampled on the gravel; the bell rung madly; the uproar of Tommie, +released from the carriage and clamoring to be let in, redoubled its +fury. Never before had such an unruly burst of noises invaded the +tranquility of Miss Pink’s villa! + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE trim little maid-servant ran upstairs from her modest little +kitchen, trembling at the terrible prospect of having to open the door. +Miss Pink, deafened by the barking, had just time to say, “What a very +ill-behaved dog!” when a sound of small objects overthrown in the hall, +and a scurrying of furious claws across the oil-cloth, announced that +Tommie had invaded the house. As the servant appeared, introducing Lady +Lydiard, the dog ran in. He made one frantic leap at Isabel, which would +certainly have knocked her down but for the chair that happened to be +standing behind her. Received on her lap, the faithful creature half +smothered her with his caresses. He barked, he shrieked, in his joy at +seeing her again. He jumped off her lap and tore round and round the +room at the top of his speed; and every time he passed Miss Pink he +showed the whole range of his teeth and snarled ferociously at her +ankles. Having at last exhausted his superfluous energy, he leaped back +again on Isabel’s lap, with his tongue quivering in his open mouth--his +tail wagging softly, and his eye on Miss Pink, inquiring how she liked a +dog in her drawing-room! + +“I hope my dog has not disturbed you, ma’am?” said Lady Lydiard, +advancing from the mat at the doorway, on which she had patiently waited +until the raptures of Tommie subsided into repose. + +Miss Pink, trembling between terror and indignation, acknowledged Lady +Lydiard’s polite inquiry by a ceremonious bow, and an answer which +administered by implication a dignified reproof. “Your Ladyship’s dog +does not appear to be a very well-trained animal,” the ex-schoolmistress +remarked. + +“Well trained?” Lady Lydiard repeated, as if the expression was +perfectly unintelligible to her. “I don’t think you have had much +experience of dogs, ma’am.” She turned to Isabel, and embraced her +tenderly. “Give me a kiss, my dear--you don’t know how wretched I have +been since you left me.” She looked back again at Miss Pink. “You are +not, perhaps, aware, ma’am, that my dog is devotedly attached to your +niece. A dog’s love has been considered by many great men (whose names +at the moment escape me) as the most touching and disinterested of +all earthly affections.” She looked the other way, and discovered the +lawyer. “How do you do, Mr. Troy? It’s a pleasant surprise to find you +here The house was so dull without Isabel that I really couldn’t put off +seeing her any longer. When you are more used to Tommie, Miss Pink, +you will understand and admire him. _You_ understand and admire him, +Isabel--don’t you? My child! you are not looking well. I shall take you +back with me, when the horses have had their rest. We shall never be +happy away from each other.” + +Having expressed her sentiments, distributed her greetings, and defended +her dog--all, as it were, in one breath--Lady Lydiard sat down by +Isabel’s side, and opened a large green fan that hung at her girdle. +“You have no idea, Miss Pink, how fat people suffer in hot weather,” + said the old lady, using her fan vigorously. + +Miss Pink’s eyes dropped modestly to the ground--“fat” was such a coarse +word to use, if a lady _must_ speak of her own superfluous flesh! “May I +offer some refreshment?” Miss Pink asked, mincingly. “A cup of tea?” + +Lady Lydiard shook her head. + +“A glass of water?” + +Lady Lydiard declined this last hospitable proposal with an exclamation +of disgust. “Have you got any beer?” she inquired. + +“I beg your Ladyship’s pardon,” said Miss Pink, doubting the evidence of +her own ears. “Did you say--beer?” + +Lady Lydiard gesticulated vehemently with her fan. “Yes, to be sure! +Beer! beer!” + +Miss Pink rose, with a countenance expressive of genteel disgust, and +rang the bell. “I think you have beer downstairs, Susan?” she said, when +the maid appeared at the door. + +“Yes, miss.” + +“A glass of beer for Lady Lydiard,” said Miss Pink--under protest. + +“Bring it in a jug,” shouted her Ladyship, as the maid left the room. +“I like to froth it up for myself,” she continued, addressing Miss Pink. +“Isabel sometimes does it for me, when she is at home--don’t you, my +dear?” + +Miss Pink had been waiting her opportunity to assert her own claim to +the possession of her own niece, from the time when Lady Lydiard had +coolly declared her intention of taking Isabel back with her. The +opportunity now presented itself. + +“Your Ladyship will pardon me,” she said, “if I remark that my niece’s +home is under my humble roof. I am properly sensible, I hope, of your +kindness to Isabel, but while she remains the object of a disgraceful +suspicion she remains with me.” + +Lady Lydiard closed her fan with an angry snap. + +“You are completely mistaken, Miss Pink. You may not mean it--but you +speak most unjustly if you say that your niece is an object of suspicion +to me, or to anybody in my house.” + +Mr. Troy, quietly listening up to this point now interposed to stop the +discussion before it could degenerate into a personal quarrel. His keen +observation, aided by his accurate knowledge of his client’s character, +had plainly revealed to him what was passing in Lady Lydiard’s mind. +She had entered the house, feeling (perhaps unconsciously) a jealousy of +Miss Pink, as her predecessor in Isabel’s affections, and as the natural +protectress of the girl under existing circumstances. Miss Pink’s +reception of her dog had additionally irritated the old lady. She had +taken a malicious pleasure in shocking the schoolmistress’s sense +of propriety--and she was now only too ready to proceed to further +extremities on the delicate question of Isabel’s justification for +leaving her house. For Isabel’s own sake, therefore--to say nothing of +other reasons--it was urgently desirable to keep the peace between the +two ladies. With this excellent object in view, Mr. Troy seized his +opportunity of striking into the conversation for the first time. + +“Pardon me, Lady Lydiard,” he said, “you are speaking of a subject which +has been already sufficiently discussed between Miss Pink and myself. I +think we shall do better not to dwell uselessly on past events, but to +direct our attention to the future. We are all equally satisfied of +the complete rectitude of Miss Isabel’s conduct, and we are all equally +interested in the vindication of her good name.” + +Whether these temperate words would of themselves have exercised the +pacifying influence at which Mr. Troy aimed may be doubtful. But, as he +ceased speaking, a powerful auxiliary appeared in the shape of the beer. +Lady Lydiard seized on the jug, and filled the tumbler for herself with +an unsteady hand. Miss Pink, trembling for the integrity of her carpet, +and scandalized at seeing a peeress drinking beer like a washer-woman, +forgot the sharp answer that was just rising to her lips when the lawyer +interfered. “Small!” said Lady Lydiard, setting down the empty tumbler, +and referring to the quality of the beer. “But very pleasant and +refreshing. What’s the servant’s name? Susan? Well, Susan, I was dying +of thirst and you have saved my life. You can leave the jug--I dare say +I shall empty it before I go.” + +Mr. Troy, watching Miss Pink’s face, saw that it was time to change the +subject again. + +“Did you notice the old village, Lady Lydiard, on your way here?” he +asked. “The artists consider it one of the most picturesque places in +England.” + +“I noticed that it was a very dirty village,” Lady Lydiard answered, +still bent on making herself disagreeable to Miss Pink. “The artists may +say what they please; I see nothing to admire in rotten cottages, and +bad drainage, and ignorant people. I suppose the neighborhood has its +advantages. It looks dull enough, to my mind.” + +Isabel had hitherto modestly restricted her exertions to keeping +Tommie quiet on her lap. Like Mr. Troy, she occasionally looked at her +aunt--and she now made a timid attempt to defend the neighborhood as a +duty that she owed to Miss Pink. + +“Oh, my Lady! don’t say it’s a dull neighborhood,” she pleaded. “There +are such pretty walks all round us. And, when you get to the hills, the +view is beautiful.” + +Lady Lydiard’s answer to this was a little masterpiece of good-humored +contempt. She patted Isabel’s cheek, and said, “Pooh! Pooh!” + +“Your Ladyship does not admire the beauties of Nature,” Miss Pink +remarked, with a compassionate smile. “As we get older, no doubt our +sight begins to fail--” + +“And we leave off canting about the beauties of Nature,” added Lady +Lydiard. “I hate the country. Give me London, and the pleasures of +society.” + +“Come! come! Do the country justice, Lady Lydiard!” put in peace-making +Mr. Troy. “There is plenty of society to be found out of London--as good +society as the world can show.” + +“The sort of society,” added Miss Pink, “which is to be found, for +example, in this neighborhood. Her Ladyship is evidently not aware +that persons of distinction surround us, whichever way we turn. I may +instance among others, the Honorable Mr. Hardyman--” + +Lady Lydiard, in the act of pouring out a second glassful of beer, +suddenly set down the jug. + +“Who is that you’re talking of, Miss Pink?” + +“I am talking of our neighbor, Lady Lydiard--the Honorable Mr. +Hardyman.” + +“Do you mean Alfred Hardyman--the man who breeds the horses?” + +“The distinguished gentleman who owns the famous stud-farm,” said Miss +Pink, correcting the bluntly-direct form in which Lady Lydiard had put +her question. + +“Is he in the habit of visiting here?” the old lady inquired, with a +sudden appearance of anxiety. “Do you know him?” + +“I had the honor of being introduced to Mr. Hardyman at our last flower +show,” Miss Pink replied. “He has not yet favored me with a visit.” + +Lady Lydiard’s anxiety appeared to be to some extent relieved. + +“I knew that Hardyman’s farm was in this county,” she said; “but I had +no notion that it was in the neighborhood of South Morden. How far away +is he--ten or a dozen miles, eh?” + +“Not more than three miles,” answered Miss Pink. “We consider him quite +a near neighbor of ours.” + +Renewed anxiety showed itself in Lady Lydiard. She looked round sharply +at Isabel. The girl’s head was bent so low over the rough head of the +dog that her face was almost entirely concealed from view. So far as +appearances went, she seemed to be entirely absorbed in fondling Tommie. +Lady Lydiard roused her with a tap of the green fan. + +“Take Tommie out, Isabel, for a run in the garden,” she said. “He won’t +sit still much longer--and he may annoy Miss Pink. Mr. Troy, will you +kindly help Isabel to keep my ill-trained dog in order?” + +Mr. Troy got on his feet, and, not very willingly, followed Isabel out +of the room. “They will quarrel now, to a dead certainty!” he thought to +himself, as he closed the door. “Have you any idea of what this means?” + he said to his companion, as he joined her in the hall. “What has Mr. +Hardyman done to excite all this interest in him?” + +Isabel’s guilty color rose. She knew perfectly well that Hardyman’s +unconcealed admiration of her was the guiding motive of Lady Lydiard’s +inquiries. If she had told the truth, Mr. Troy would have unquestionably +returned to the drawing-room, with or without an acceptable excuse +for intruding himself. But Isabel was a woman; and her answer, it is +needless to say, was “I don’t know, I’m sure.” + +In the mean time, the interview between the two ladies began in a manner +which would have astonished Mr. Troy--they were both silent. For once +in her life Lady Lydiard was considering what she should say, before she +said it. Miss Pink, on her side, naturally waited to hear what object +her Ladyship had in view--waited, until her small reserve of patience +gave way. Urged by irresistible curiosity, she spoke first. + +“Have you anything to say to me in private?” she asked. + +Lady Lydiard had not got to the end of her reflections. She said +“Yes!”--and she said no more. + +“Is it anything relating to my niece?” persisted Miss Pink. + +Still immersed in her reflections, Lady Lydiard suddenly rose to the +surface, and spoke her mind, as usual. + +“About your niece, ma’am. The other day Mr. Hardyman called at my house, +and saw Isabel.” + +“Yes,” said Miss Pink, politely attentive, but not in the least +interested, so far. + +“That’s not all ma’am. Mr. Hardyman admires Isabel; he owned it to me +himself in so many words.” + +Miss Pink listened, with a courteous inclination of her head. She looked +mildly gratified, nothing more. Lady Lydiard proceeded: + +“You and I think differently on many matters,” she said. “But we are +both agreed, I am sure, in feeling the sincerest interest in Isabel’s +welfare. I beg to suggest to you, Miss Pink, that Mr. Hardyman, as a +near neighbor of yours, is a very undesirable neighbor while Isabel +remains in your house.” + +Saying those words, under a strong conviction of the serious importance +of the subject, Lady Lydiard insensibly recovered the manner and resumed +the language which befitted a lady of her rank. Miss Pink, noticing the +change, set it down to an expression of pride on the part of her visitor +which, in referring to Isabel, assailed indirectly the social position +of Isabel’s aunt. + +“I fail entirely to understand what your Ladyship means,” she said +coldly. + +Lady Lydiard, on her side, looked in undisguised amazement at Miss Pink. + +“Haven’t I told you already that Mr. Hardyman admires your niece?” she +asked. + +“Naturally,” said Miss Pink. “Isabel inherits her lamented mother’s +personal advantages. If Mr. Hardyman admires her, Mr. Hardyman shows his +good taste.” + +Lady Lydiard’s eyes opened wider and wider in wonder. “My good lady!” + she exclaimed, “is it possible you don’t know that when a man admires +a women he doesn’t stop there? He falls in love with her (as the saying +is) next.” + +“So I have heard,” said Miss Pink. + +“So you have _heard?_” repeated Lady Lydiard. “If Mr. Hardyman finds +his way to Isabel I can tell you what you will _see_. Catch the two +together, ma’am--and you will see Mr. Hardyman making love to your +niece.” + +“Under due restrictions, Lady Lydiard, and with my permission first +obtained, of course, I see no objection to Mr. Hardyman paying his +addresses to Isabel.” + +“The woman is mad!” cried Lady Lydiard. “Do you actually suppose, Miss +Pink, that Alfred Hardyman could, by any earthly possibility, marry your +niece!” + +Not even Miss Pink’s politeness could submit to such a question as this. +She rose indignantly from her chair. “As you aware, Lady Lydiard, that +the doubt you have just expressed is an insult to my niece, and a insult +to Me?” + +“Are _you_ aware of who Mr. Hardyman really is?” retorted her Ladyship. +“Or do you judge of his position by the vocation in life which he has +perversely chosen to adopt? I can tell you, if you do, that Alfred +Hardyman is the younger son of one of the oldest barons in the English +Peerage, and that his mother is related by marriage to the Royal family +of Wurtemberg.” + +Miss Pink received the full shock of this information without receding +from her position by a hair-breadth. + +“An English gentlewoman offers a fit alliance to any man living who +seeks her hand in marriage,” said Miss Pink. “Isabel’s mother (you may +not be aware of it) was the daughter of an English clergyman--” + +“And Isabel’s father was a chemist in a country town,” added Lady +Lydiard. + +“Isabel’s father,” rejoined Miss Pink, “was attached in a most +responsible capacity to the useful and honorable profession of Medicine. +Isabel is, in the strictest sense of the word, a young gentlewoman. If +you contradict that for a single instant, Lady Lydiard, you will oblige +me to leave the room.” + +Those last words produced a result which Miss Pink had not +anticipated--they roused Lady Lydiard to assert herself. As usual in +such cases, she rose superior to her own eccentricity. Confronting +Miss Pink, she now spoke and looked with the gracious courtesy and the +unpresuming self-confidence of the order to which she belonged. + +“For Isabel’s own sake, and for the quieting of my conscience,” she +answered, “I will say one word more, Miss Pink, before I relieve you +of my presence. Considering my age and my opportunities, I may claim +to know quite as much as you do of the laws and customs which +regulate society in our time. Without contesting your niece’s social +position--and without the slightest intention of insulting you--I repeat +that the rank which Mr. Hardyman inherits makes it simply impossible for +him even to think of marrying Isabel. You will do well not to give him +any opportunities of meeting with her alone. And you will do better +still (seeing that he is so near a neighbor of yours) if you permit +Isabel to return to my protection, for a time at least. I will wait to +hear from you when you have thought the matter over at your leisure. +In the mean time, if I have inadvertently offended you, I ask your +pardon--and I wish you good-evening.” + +She bowed, and walked to the door. Miss Pink, as resolute as ever in +maintaining her pretensions, made an effort to match the great lady on +her own ground. + +“Before you go, Lady Lydiard, I beg to apologize if I have spoken too +warmly on my side,” she said. “Permit me to send for your carriage.” + +“Thank you, Miss Pink. My carriage is only at the village inn. I shall +enjoy a little walk in the cool evening air. Mr. Troy, I have no doubt, +will give me his arm.” She bowed once more, and quietly left the room. + +Reaching the little back garden of the villa, through an open door +at the further end of the hall, Lady Lydiard found Tommie rolling +luxuriously on Miss Pink’s flower-beds, and Isabel and Mr. Troy in close +consultation on the gravel walk. + +She spoke to the lawyer first. + +“They are baiting the horses at the inn,” she said. “I want your arm, +Mr. Troy, as far as the village--and, in return, I will take you back +to London with me. I have to ask your advice about one or two little +matters, and this is a good opportunity.” + +“With the greatest pleasure, Lady Lydiard. I suppose I must say good-by +to Miss Pink?” + +“A word of advice to you, Mr. Troy. Take care how you ruffle Miss Pink’s +sense of her own importance. Another word for your private ear. Miss +Pink is a fool.” + +On the lawyer’s withdrawal, Lady Lydiard put her arm fondly round +Isabel’s waist. “What were you and Mr. Troy so busy in talking about?” + she asked. + +“We were talking, my Lady, about tracing the person who stole the +money,” Isabel answered, rather sadly. “It seems a far more difficult +matter than I supposed it to be. I try not to lose patience and +hope--but it is a little hard to feel that appearances are against me, +and to wait day after day in vain for the discovery that is to set me +right.” + +“You are a dear good child,” said Lady Lydiard; “and you are more +precious to me than ever. Don’t despair, Isabel. With Mr. Troy’s means +of inquiring, and with my means of paying, the discovery of the thief +cannot be much longer delayed. If you don’t return to me soon, I shall +come back and see you again. Your aunt hates the sight of me--but I +don’t care two straws for that,” remarked Lady Lydiard, showing the +undignified side of her character once more. “Listen to me, Isabel! I +have no wish to lower your aunt in your estimation, but I feel far more +confidence in your good sense than in hers. Mr. Hardyman’s business has +taken him to France for the present. It is at least possible that you +may meet with him on his return. If you do, keep him at a distance, my +dear--politely, of course. There! there! you needn’t turn red; I am not +blaming you; I am only giving you a little good advice. In your position +you cannot possibly be too careful. Here is Mr. Troy! You must come to +the gate with us, Isabel, or we shall never get Tommie away from you; I +am only his second favorite; you have the first place in his affections. +God bless and prosper you, my child!--I wish to heaven you were going +back to London with me! Well, Mr. Troy, how have you done with Miss +Pink? Have you offended that terrible ‘gentlewoman’ (hateful word!); or +has it been all the other way, and has she given you a kiss at parting?” + +Mr. Troy smiled mysteriously, and changed the subject. His brief parting +interview with the lady of the house was not of a nature to be rashly +related. Miss Pink had not only positively assured him that her visitor +was the most ill-bred woman she had ever met with, but had further +accused Lady Lydiard of shaking her confidence in the aristocracy of her +native country. “For the first time in my life,” said Miss Pink, “I feel +that something is to be said for the Republican point of view; and I am +not indisposed to admit that the constitution of the United States _has_ +its advantages!” + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE conference between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy, on the way back to +London, led to some practical results. + +Hearing from her legal adviser that the inquiry after the missing money +was for a moment at a standstill, Lady Lydiard made one of those bold +suggestions with which she was accustomed to startle her friends in +cases of emergency. She had heard favorable reports of the extraordinary +ingenuity of the French police; and she now proposed sending to Paris +for assistance, after first consulting her nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir. +“Felix knows Paris as well as he knows London,” she remarked. “He is an +idle man, and it is quite likely that he will relieve us of all trouble +by taking the matter into his own hands. In any case, he is sure to know +who are the right people to address in our present necessity. What do +you say?” + +Mr. Troy, in reply, expressed his doubts as to the wisdom of employing +foreigners in a delicate investigation which required an accurate +knowledge of English customs and English character. Waiving this +objection, he approved of the idea of consulting her Ladyship’s nephew. +“Mr. Sweetsir is a man of the world,” he said. “In putting the case +before him, we are sure to have it presented to us from a new point +of view.” Acting on this favorable expression of opinion, Lady Lydiard +wrote to her nephew. On the day after the visit to Miss Pink, the +proposed council of three was held at Lady Lydiard’s house. + +Felix, never punctual at keeping an appointment, was even later than +usual on this occasion. He made his apologies with his hand pressed upon +his forehead, and his voice expressive of the languor and discouragement +of a suffering man. + +“The beastly English climate is telling on my nerves,” said Mr. +Sweetsir--“the horrid weight of the atmosphere, after the exhilarating +air of Paris; the intolerable dirt and dullness of London, you know. I +was in bed, my dear aunt, when I received your letter. You may imagine +the completely demoralised state I was in, when I tell you of the +effect which the news of the robbery produced on me. I fell back on my +pillow, as if I had been shot. Your Ladyship should really be a +little more careful in communicating these disagreeable surprises to a +sensitively-organised man. Never mind--my valet is a perfect treasure; +he brought me some drops of ether on a lump of sugar. I said, ‘Alfred’ +(his name is Alfred), ‘put me into my clothes!’ Alfred put me in. I +assure you it reminded me of my young days, when I was put into my first +pair of trousers. Has Alfred forgotten anything? Have I got my braces +on? Have I come out in my shirt-sleeves? Well, dear aunt;--well, Mr. +Troy!--what can I say? What can I do?” + +Lady Lydiard, entirely without sympathy for nervous suffering, nodded to +the lawyer. “You tell him,” she said. + +“I believe I speak for her Ladyship,” Mr. Troy began, “when I say that +we should like to hear, in the first place, how the whole case strikes +you, Mr. Sweetsir?” + +“Tell it me all over again,” said Felix. + +Patient Mr. Troy told it all over again--and waited for the result. + +“Well?” said Felix. + +“Well?” said Mr. Troy. “Where does the suspicion of robbery rest in your +opinion? You look at the theft of the bank-note with a fresh eye.” + +“You mentioned a clergyman just now,” said Felix. “The man, you know, to +whom the money was sent. What was his name?” + +“The Reverend Samuel Bradstock.” + +“You want me to name the person whom I suspect?” + +“Yes, if you please,” said Mr. Troy. + +“I suspect the Reverend Samuel Bradstock,” said Felix. + +“If you have come here to make stupid jokes,” interposed Lady Lydiard, +“you had better go back to your bed again. We want a serious opinion.” + +“You _have_ a serious opinion,” Felix coolly rejoined. “I never was more +in earnest in my life. Your Ladyship is not aware of the first principle +to be adopted in cases of suspicion. One proceeds on what I will call +the exhaustive system of reasoning. Thus: Does suspicion point to the +honest servants downstairs? No. To your Ladyship’s adopted daughter? +Appearances are against the poor girl; but you know her better than to +trust to appearances. Are you suspicious of Moody? No. Of Hardyman--who +was in the house at the time? Ridiculous! But I was in the house at the +time, too. Do you suspect Me? Just so! That idea is ridiculous, too. +Now let us sum up. Servants, adopted daughter, Moody, Hardyman, +Sweetsir--all beyond suspicion. Who is left? The Reverend Samuel +Bradstock.” + +This ingenious exposition of “the exhaustive system of reasoning,” + failed to produce any effect on Lady Lydiard. “You are wasting our +time,” she said sharply. “You know as well as I do that you are talking +nonsense.” + +“I don’t,” said Felix. “Taking the gentlemanly professions all round, +I know of no men who are so eager to get money, and who have so few +scruples about how they get it, as the parsons. Where is there a man in +any other profession who perpetually worries you for money?--who holds +the bag under your nose for money?--who sends his clerk round from +door to door to beg a few shillings of you, and calls it an ‘Easter +offering’? The parson does all this. Bradstock is a parson. I put it +logically. Bowl me over, if you can.” + +Mr. Troy attempted to “bowl him over,” nevertheless. Lady Lydiard wisely +interposed. + +“When a man persists in talking nonsense,” she said, “silence is the +best answer; anything else only encourages him.” She turned to Felix. +“I have a question to ask you,” she went on. “You will either give me +a serious reply, or wish me good-morning.” With this brief preface, +she made her inquiry as to the wisdom and possibility of engaging the +services of the French police. + +Felix took exactly the view of the matter which had been already +expressed by Mr. Troy. “Superior in intelligence,” he said, “but not +superior in courage, to the English police. Capable of performing +wonders on their own ground and among their own people. But, my dear +aunt, the two most dissimilar nations on the face of the earth are the +English and the French. The French police may speak our language--but +they are incapable of understanding our national character and our +national manners. Set them to work on a private inquiry in the city of +Pekin--and they would get on in time with the Chinese people. Set them +to work in the city of London--and the English people would remain, from +first to last, the same impenetrable mystery to them. In my belief the +London Sunday would be enough of itself to drive them back to Paris +in despair. No balls, no concerts, no theaters, not even a museum or a +picture-gallery open; every shop shut up but the gin-shop; and nothing +moving but the church bells and the men who sell the penny ices. +Hundreds of Frenchmen come to see me on their first arrival in England. +Every man of them rushes back to Paris on the second Saturday of his +visit, rather than confront the horrors of a second Sunday in London! +However, you can try it if you like. Send me a written abstract of the +case, and I will forward it to one of the official people in the Rue +Jerusalem, who will do anything he can to oblige me. Of course,” said +Felix, turning to Mr. Troy, “some of you have got the number of the lost +bank-note? If the thief has tried to pass it in Paris, my man may be of +some use to you.” + +“Three of us have got the number of the note,” answered Mr. Troy; “Miss +Isabel Miller, Mr. Moody, and myself.” + +“Very good,” said Felix. “Send me the number, with the abstract of the +case. Is there anything else I can do towards recovering the money?” + he asked, turning to his aunt. “There is one lucky circumstance in +connection with this loss--isn’t there? It has fallen on a person who +is rich enough to take it easy. Good heavens! suppose it had been _my_ +loss!” + +“It has fallen doubly on me,” said Lady Lydiard; “and I am certainly +not rich enough to take it _that_ easy. The money was destined to a +charitable purpose; and I have felt it my duty to pay it again.” + +Felix rose and approached his aunt’s chair with faltering steps, as +became a suffering man. He took Lady Lydiard’s hand and kissed it with +enthusiastic admiration. + +“You excellent creature!” he said. “You may not think it, but you +reconcile me to human nature. How generous! how noble! I think I’ll go +to bed again, Mr. Troy, if you really don’t want any more of me. My head +feels giddy and my legs tremble under me. It doesn’t matter; I shall +feel easier when Alfred has taken me out of my clothes again. God bless +you, my dear aunt! I never felt so proud of being related to you as I +do to-day. Good-morning Mr. Troy! Don’t forget the abstract of the case; +and don’t trouble yourself to see me to the door. I dare say I shan’t +tumble downstairs; and, if I do, there’s the porter in the hall to pick +me up again. Enviable porter! as fat as butter and as idle as a pig! _Au +revoir! au revoir!_” He kissed his hand, and drifted feebly out of +the room. Sweetsir one might say, in a state of eclipse; but still the +serviceable Sweetsir, who was never consulted in vain by the fortunate +people privileged to call him friend! + +“Is he really ill, do you think?” Mr. Troy asked. + +“My nephew has turned fifty,” Lady Lydiard answered, “and he persists in +living as if he was a young man. Every now and then Nature says to him, +‘Felix, you are old!’ And Felix goes to bed, and says it’s his nerves.” + +“I suppose he is to be trusted to keep his word about writing to Paris?” + pursued the lawyer. + +“Oh, yes! He may delay doing it but he will do it. In spite of his +lackadaisical manner, he has moments of energy that would surprise you. +Talking of surprises, I have something to tell you about Moody. Within +the last day or two there has been a marked change in him--a change for +the worse.” + +“You astonish me, Lady Lydiard! In what way has Moody deteriorated?” + +“You shall hear. Yesterday was Friday. You took him out with you, on +business, early in the morning.” + +Mr. Troy bowed, and said nothing. He had not thought it desirable to +mention the interview at which Old Sharon had cheated him of his guinea. + +“In the course of the afternoon,” pursued Lady Lydiard, “I happened to +want him, and I was informed that Moody had gone out again. Where had he +gone? Nobody knew. Had he left word when he would be back? He had left +no message of any sort. Of course, he is not in the position of an +ordinary servant. I don’t expect him to ask permission to go out. But I +do expect him to leave word downstairs of the time at which he is likely +to return. When he did come back, after an absence of some hours, I +naturally asked for an explanation. Would you believe it? he simply +informed me that he had been away on business of his own; expressed +no regret, and offered no explanation--in short, spoke as if he was an +independent gentleman. You may not think it, but I kept my temper. I +merely remarked that I hoped it would not happen again. He made me a +bow, and he said, ‘My business is not completed yet, my Lady. I cannot +guarantee that it may not call me away again at a moment’s notice.’ +What do you think of that? Nine people out of ten would have given +him warning to leave their service. I begin to think I am a wonderful +woman--I only pointed to the door. One does hear sometimes of men’s +brains softening in the most unexpected manner. I have my suspicions of +Moody’s brains, I can tell you.” + +Mr. Troy’s suspicions took a different direction: they pointed along the +line of streets which led to Old Sharon’s lodgings. Discreetly silent as +to the turn which his thoughts had taken, he merely expressed himself as +feeling too much surprised to offer any opinion at all. + +“Wait a little,” said Lady Lydiard, “I haven’t done surprising you yet. +You have seen a boy here in a page’s livery, I think? Well, he is a good +boy; and he has gone home for a week’s holiday with his friends. The +proper person to supply his place with the boots and shoes and other +small employments, is of course the youngest footman, a lad only a +few years older than himself. What do you think Moody does? Engages a +stranger, with the house full of idle men-servants already, to fill the +page’s place. At intervals this morning I heard them wonderfully merry +in the servants hall--_so_ merry that the noise and laughter found its +way upstairs to the breakfast-room. I like my servants to be in good +spirits; but it certainly did strike me that they were getting beyond +reasonable limits. I questioned my maid, and was informed that the noise +was all due to the jokes of the strangest old man that ever was seen. +In other words, to the person whom my steward had taken it on himself +to engage in the page’s absence. I spoke to Moody on the subject. He +answered in an odd, confused way, that he had exercised his discretion +to the best of his judgment and that (if I wished it), he would tell the +old man to keep his good spirits under better control. I asked him +how he came to hear of the man. He only answered, ‘By accident, my +Lady’--and not one more word could I get out of him, good or bad. Moody +engages the servants, as you know; but on every other occasion he has +invariably consulted me before an engagement was settled. I really don’t +feel at all sure about this person who has been so strangely introduced +into the house--he may be a drunkard or a thief. I wish you would speak +to Moody yourself, Mr. Troy. Do you mind ringing the bell?” + +Mr. Troy rose, as a matter of course, and rang the bell. + +He was by this time, it is needless to say, convinced that Moody had +not only gone back to consult Old Sharon on his own responsibility, but +worse still, had taken the unwarrantable liberty of introducing him, as +a spy, into the house. To communicate this explanation to Lady Lydiard +would, in her present humor, be simply to produce the dismissal of the +steward from her service. The only other alternative was to ask leave to +interrogate Moody privately, and, after duly reproving him, to insist on +the departure of Old Sharon as the one condition on which Mr. Troy would +consent to keep Lady Lydiard in ignorance of the truth. + +“I think I shall manage better with Moody, if your Ladyship will permit +me to see him in private,” the lawyer said. “Shall I go downstairs and +speak with him in his own room?” + +“Why should you trouble yourself to do that?” said her Ladyship. “See +him here; and I will go into the boudoir.” + +As she made that reply, the footman appeared at the drawing-room door. + +“Send Moody here,” said Lady Lydiard. + +The footman’s answer, delivered at that moment, assumed an importance +which was not expressed in the footman’s words. “My Lady,” he said, “Mr. +Moody has gone out.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +WHILE the strange proceedings of the steward were the subject of +conversation between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy, Moody was alone in his +room, occupied in writing to Isabel. Being unwilling that any eyes but +his own should see the address, he had himself posted his letter; the +time that he had chosen for leaving the house proving, unfortunately, +to be also the time proposed by her Ladyship for his interview with the +lawyer. In ten minutes after the footman had reported his absence, Moody +returned. It was then too late to present himself in the drawing-room. +In the interval, Mr. Troy had taken his leave, and Moody’s position had +dropped a degree lower in Lady Lydiard’s estimation. + +Isabel received her letter by the next morning’s post. If any +justification of Mr. Troy’s suspicions had been needed, the terms in +which Moody wrote would have amply supplied it. + + +“DEAR ISABEL (I hope I may call you ‘Isabel’ without offending you, in +your present trouble?)--I have a proposal to make, which, whether +you accept it or not, I beg you will keep a secret from every living +creature but ourselves. You will understand my request, when I add that +these lines relate to the matter of tracing the stolen bank-note. + +“I have been privately in communication with a person in London, who is, +as I believe, the one person competent to help us in gaining our end. +He has already made many inquiries in private. With some of them I am +acquainted; the rest he has thus far kept to himself. The person to whom +I allude, particularly wishes to have half an hour’s conversation with +you in my presence. I am bound to warn you that he is a very strange +and very ugly old man; and I can only hope that you will look over his +personal appearance in consideration of what he is likely to do for your +future advantage. + +“Can you conveniently meet us, at the further end of the row of villas +in which your aunt lives, the day after to-morrow, at four o’clock? Let +me have a line to say if you will keep the appointment, and if the hour +named will suit you. And believe me your devoted friend and servant, + +“ROBERT MOODY.” + + +The lawyer’s warning to her to be careful how she yielded too readily to +any proposal of Moody’s recurred to Isabel’s mind while she read those +lines. Being pledged to secrecy, she could not consult Mr. Troy--she was +left to decide for herself. + +No obstacle stood in the way of her free choice of alternatives. After +their early dinner at three o’clock, Miss Pink habitually retired to +her own room “to meditate,” as she expressed it. Her “meditations” + inevitably ended in a sound sleep of some hours; and during that +interval Isabel was at liberty to do as she pleased. After considerable +hesitation, her implicit belief in Moody’s truth and devotion, assisted +by a strong feeling of curiosity to see the companion with whom the +steward had associated himself, decided Isabel on consenting to keep the +appointment. + +Taking up her position beyond the houses, on the day and at the hour +mentioned by Moody, she believed herself to be fully prepared for the +most unfavorable impression which the most disagreeable of all possible +strangers could produce. + +But the first appearance of Old Sharon--as dirty as ever, clothed in +a long, frowzy, gray overcoat, with his pug-dog at his heels, and his +smoke-blackened pipe in his mouth, with a tan white hat on his head, +which looked as if it had been picked up in a gutter, a hideous leer +in his eyes, and a jaunty trip in his walk--took her so completely +by surprise that she could only return Moody’s friendly greeting by +silently pressing his hand. As for Moody’s companion, to look at him for +a second time was more than she had resolution to do. She kept her eyes +fixed on the pug-dog, and with good reason; as far as appearances went, +he was indisputably the nobler animal of the two. + +Under the circumstances, the interview threatened to begin in a very +embarrassing manner. Moody, disheartened by Isabel’s silence, made no +attempt to set the conversation going; he looked as if he meditated +a hasty retreat to the railway station which he had just left. +Fortunately, he had at his side the right man (for once) in the right +place. Old Sharon’s effrontery was equal to any emergency. + +“I am not a nice-looking old man, my dear, am I?” he said, leering at +Isabel with cunning, half-closed eyes. “Bless your heart! you’ll soon +get used to me! You see, I am the sort of color, as they say at the +linen-drapers, that doesn’t wash well. It’s all through love; upon +my life it is! Early in the present century I had my young affections +blighted; and I’ve neglected myself ever since. Disappointment takes +different forms, miss, in different men. I don’t think I have had heart +enough to brush my hair for the last fifty years. She was a magnificent +woman, Mr. Moody, and she dropped me like a hot potato. Dreadful! +dreadful! Let us pursue this painful subject no further. Ha! here’s a +pretty country! Here’s a nice blue sky! I admire the country, miss; I +see so little of it, you know. Have you any objection to walk along into +the fields? The fields, my dear, bring out all the poetry of my nature. +Where’s the dog? Here, Puggy! Puggy! hunt about, my man, and find some +dog-grass. Does his inside good, you know, after a meat diet in London. +Lord! how I feel my spirits rising in this fine air! Does my complexion +look any brighter, miss? Will you run a race with me, Mr. Moody, or will +you oblige me with a back at leap-frog? I’m not mad, my dear young lady; +I’m only merry. I live, you see, in the London stink; and the smell of +the hedges and the wild flowers is too much for me at first. It gets +into my head, it does. I’m drunk! As I live by bread, I’m drunk on fresh +air! Oh! what a jolly day! Oh! how young and innocent I do feel!” Here +his innocence got the better of him, and he began to sing, “I wish I +were a little fly, in my love’s bosom for to lie!” “Hullo! here we are +on the nice soft grass! and, oh, my gracious! there’s a bank running +down into a hollow! I can’t stand that, you know. Mr. Moody, hold my +hat, and take the greatest care of it. Here goes for a roll down the +bank!” + +He handed his horrible hat to the astonished Moody, laid himself flat +on the top of the bank, and deliberately rolled down it, exactly as he +might have done when he was a boy. The tails of his long gray coat flew +madly in the wind: the dog pursued him, jumping over him, and barking +with delight; he shouted and screamed in answer to the dog as he rolled +over and over faster and faster; and, when he got up, on the level +ground, and called out cheerfully to his companions standing above him, +“I say, you two, I feel twenty years younger already!”--human gravity +could hold out no longer. The sad and silent Moody smiled, and Isabel +burst into fits of laughter. + +“There,” he said “didn’t I tell you you would get used to me, Miss? +There’s a deal of life left in the old man yet--isn’t there? Shy me down +my hat, Mr. Moody. And now we’ll get to business!” He turned round to +the dog still barking at his heels. “Business, Puggy!” he called out +sharply, and Puggy instantly shut up his mouth, and said no more. + +“Well, now,” Old Sharon resumed when he had joined his friends and had +got his breath again, “let’s have a little talk about yourself, miss. +Has Mr. Moody told you who I am, and what I want with you? Very good. +May I offer you my arm? No! You like to be independent, don’t you? All +right--I don’t object. I am an amiable old man, I am. About this Lady +Lydiard, now? Suppose you tell me how you first got acquainted with +her?” + +In some surprise at this question, Isabel told her little story. +Observing Sharon’s face while she was speaking, Moody saw that he was +not paying the smallest attention to the narrative. His sharp, shameless +black eyes watched the girl’s face absently; his gross lips curled +upwards in a sardonic and self-satisfied smile. He was evidently setting +a trap for her of some kind. Without a word of warning--while Isabel was +in the middle of a sentence--the trap opened, with the opening of Old +Sharon’s lips. + +“I say,” he burst out. “How came _you_ to seal her Ladyship’s +letter--eh?” + +The question bore no sort of relation, direct or indirect, to what +Isabel happened to be saying at the moment. In the sudden surprise of +hearing it, she started and fixed her eyes in astonishment on Sharon’s +face. The old vagabond chuckled to himself. “Did you see that?” he +whispered to Moody. “I beg your pardon, miss,” he went on; “I won’t +interrupt you again. Lord! how interesting it is!--ain’t it, Mr. Moody? +Please to go on, miss.” + +But Isabel, though she spoke with perfect sweetness and temper, declined +to go on. “I had better tell you, sir, how I came to seal her Ladyship’s +letter,” she said. “If I may venture on giving my opinion, _that_ +part of my story seems to be the only part of it which relates to your +business with me to-day.” + +Without further preface she described the circumstances which had led +to her assuming the perilous responsibility of sealing the letter. Old +Sharon’s wandering attention began to wander again: he was evidently +occupied in setting another trap. For the second time he interrupted +Isabel in the middle of a sentence. Suddenly stopping short, he pointed +to some sheep, at the further end of the field through which they +happened to be passing at the moment. + +“There’s a pretty sight,” he said. “There are the innocent sheep +a-feeding--all following each other as usual. And there’s the sly dog +waiting behind the gate till the sheep wants his services. Reminds me +of Old Sharon and the public!” He chuckled over the discovery of the +remarkable similarity between the sheep-dog and himself, and the sheep +and the public--and then burst upon Isabel with a second question. “I +say! didn’t you look at the letter before you sealed it?” + +“Certainly not!” Isabel answered. + +“Not even at the address?” + +“No!” + +“Thinking of something else--eh?” + +“Very likely,” said Isabel. + +“Was it your new bonnet, my dear?” + +Isabel laughed. “Women are not always thinking of their new bonnets,” + she answered. + +Old Sharon, to all appearance, dropped the subject there. He lifted his +lean brown forefinger and pointed again--this time to a house at a short +distance from them. “That’s a farmhouse, surely?” he said. “I’m thirsty +after my roll down the hill. Do you think, Miss, they would give me a +drink of milk?” + +“I am sure they would,” said Isabel. “I know the people. Shall I go and +ask them?” + +“Thank you, my dear. One word more before you go. About the sealing of +that letter? What _could_ you have been thinking of while you were doing +it?” He looked hard at her, and took her suddenly by the arm. “Was it +your sweetheart?” he asked, in a whisper. + +The question instantly reminded Isabel that she had been thinking of +Hardyman while she sealed the letter. She blushed as the remembrance +crossed her mind. Robert, noticing the embarrassment, spoke sharply to +Old Sharon. “You have no right to put such a question to a young lady,” + he said. “Be a little more careful for the future.” + +“There! there! don’t be hard on me,” pleaded the old rogue. “An ugly old +man like me may make his innocent little joke--eh, miss? I’m sure you’re +too sweet-tempered to be angry when I meant no offense.. Show me that +you bear no malice. Go, like a forgiving young angel, and ask for the +milk.” + +Nobody appealed to Isabel’s sweetness of temper in vain. “I will do it +with pleasure,” she said--and hastened away to the farmhouse. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE instant Isabel was out of hearing, Old Sharon slapped Moody on the +shoulder to rouse his attention. “I’ve got her out of the way,” he said, +“now listen to me. My business with the young angel is done--I may go +back to London.” + +Moody looked at him with astonishment. + +“Lord! how little you know of thieves!” exclaimed Old Sharon. “Why, man +alive, I have tried her with two plain tests! If you wanted a proof of +her innocence, there it was, as plain as the nose in your face. Did you +hear me ask her how she came to seal the letter--just when her mind was +running on something else?” + +“I heard you,” said Moody. + +“Did you see how she started and stared at me?” + +“I did.” + +“Well, I can tell you this--if she _had_ stolen the money she would +neither have started nor stared. She would have had her answer ready +beforehand in her own mind, in case of accidents. There’s only one +thing in my experience that you can never do with a thief, when a thief +happens to be a woman--you can never take her by surprise. Put that +remark by in your mind; one day you may find a use for remembering it. +Did you see her blush, and look quite hurt in her feelings, pretty dear, +when I asked about her sweetheart? Do you think a thief, in her place, +would have shown such a face as that? Not she! The thief would have been +relieved. The thief would have said to herself, ‘All right! the more +the old fool talks about sweethearts the further he is from tracing the +robbery to Me!’ Yes! yes! the ground’s cleared now, Master Moody. I’ve +reckoned up the servants; I’ve questioned Miss Isabel; I’ve made my +inquiries in all the other quarters that may be useful to us--and what’s +the result? The advice I gave, when you and the lawyer first came to +me--I hate that fellow!--remains as sound and good advice as ever. I +have got the thief in my mind,” said Old Sharon, closing his cunning +eyes and then opening them again, “as plain as I’ve got you in my eye at +this minute. No more of that now,” he went on, looking round sharply at +the path that led to the farmhouse. “I’ve something particular to say to +you--and there’s barely time to say it before that nice girl comes back. +Look here! Do you happen to be acquainted with Mr.-Honorable-Hardyman’s +valet?” + +Moody’s eyes rested on Old Sharon with a searching and doubtful look. + +“Mr. Hardyman’s valet?” he repeated. “I wasn’t prepared to hear Mr. +Hardyman’s name.” + +Old Sharon looked at Moody, in his turn, with a flash of sardonic +triumph. + +“Oho!” he said. “Has my good boy learned his lesson? Do you see the +thief through my spectacles, already?” + +“I began to see him,” Moody answered, “when you gave us the guinea +opinion at your lodgings.” + +“Will you whisper his name?” asked Old Sharon. + +“Not yet. I distrust my own judgment. I wait till time proves that you +are right.” + +Old Sharon knitted his shaggy brows and shook his head. “If you had +only a little more dash and go in you,” he said, “you would be a clever +fellow. As it is--!” He finished the sentence by snapping his fingers +with a grin of contempt. “Let’s get to business. Are you going back by +the next train along with me? or are you going to stop with the young +lady?” + +“I will follow you by a later train,” Moody answered. + +“Then I must give you my instructions at once,” Sharon continued. “You +get better acquainted with Hardyman’s valet. Lend him money if he wants +it--stick at nothing to make a bosom friend of him. I can’t do that part +of it; my appearance would be against me. _You_ are the man--you are +respectable from the top of your hat to the tips of your boots; nobody +would suspect You. Don’t make objections! Can you fix the valet? Or +can’t you?” + +“I can try,” said Moody. “And what then?” + +Old Sharon put his gross lips disagreeably close to Moody’s ear. + +“Your friend the valet can tell you who his master’s bankers are,” + he said; “and he can supply you with a specimen of his master’s +handwriting.” + +Moody drew back, as suddenly as if his vagabond companion had put a +knife to his throat. “You old villain!” he said. “Are you tempting me to +forgery?” + +“You infernal fool!” retorted Old Sharon. “_Will_ you hold that long +tongue of yours, and hear what I have to say. You go to Hardyman’s +bankers, with a note in Hardyman’s handwriting (exactly imitated by me) +to this effect:--‘Mr. H. presents his compliments to Messrs. So-and-So, +and is not quite certain whether a payment of five hundred pounds has +been made within the last week to his account. He will be much obliged +if Messrs. So-and-So will inform him by a line in reply, whether there +is such an entry to his credit in their books, and by whom the payment +has been made.’ You wait for the bankers’ answer, and bring it to me. +It’s just possible that the name you’re afraid to whisper may appear +in the letter. If it does, we’ve caught our man. Is _that_ forgery, Mr. +Muddlehead Moody? I’ll tell you what--if I had lived to be your age, and +knew no more of the world than you do, I’d go and hang myself. Steady! +here’s our charming friend with the milk. Remember your instructions, +and don’t lose heart if my notion of the payment to the bankers comes +to nothing. I know what to do next, in that case--and, what’s more, I’ll +take all the risk and trouble on my own shoulders. Oh, Lord! I’m afraid +I shall be obliged to drink the milk, now it’s come!” + +With this apprehension in his mind, he advanced to relieve Isabel of the +jug that she carried. + +“Here’s a treat!” he burst out, with an affectation of joy, which was +completely belied by the expression of his dirty face. “Here’s a kind +and dear young lady, to help an old man to a drink with her own pretty +hands.” He paused, and looked at the milk very much as he might have +looked at a dose of physic. “Will anyone take a drink first?” he asked, +offering the jug piteously to Isabel and Moody. “You see, I’m not wed to +genuine milk; I’m used to chalk and water. I don’t know what effect the +unadulterated cow might have on my poor old inside.” He tasted the milk +with the greatest caution. “Upon my soul, this is too rich for me! The +unadulterated cow is a deal too strong to be drunk alone. If you’ll +allow me I’ll qualify it with a drop of gin. Here, Puggy, Puggy!” He +set the milk down before the dog; and, taking a flask out of his pocket, +emptied it at a draught. “That’s something like!” he said, smacking his +lips with an air of infinite relief. “So sorry, Miss, to have given you +all your trouble for nothing; it’s my ignorance that’s to blame, not me. +I couldn’t know I was unworthy of genuine milk till I tried--could I? +And do you know,” he proceeded, with his eyes directed slyly on the way +back to the station, “I begin to think I’m not worthy of the fresh air, +either. A kind of longing seems to come over me for the London stink. +I’m home-sick already for the soot of my happy childhood and my own dear +native mud. The air here is too thin for me, and the sky’s too clean; +and--oh, Lord!--when you’re wed to the roar of the traffic--the ‘busses +and the cabs and what not--the silence in these parts is downright +awful. I’ll wish you good evening, miss; and get back to London.” + +Isabel turned to Moody with disappointment plainly expressed in her face +and manner. + +“Is that all he has to say?” she asked. “You told me he could help us. +You led me to suppose he could find the guilty person.” + +Sharon heard her. “I could name the guilty person,” he answered, “as +easily, miss, as I could name you.” + +“Why don’t you do it then?” Isabel inquired, not very patiently + +“Because the time’s not ripe for it yet, miss--that’s one reason. +Because, if I mentioned the thief’s name, as things are now, you, Miss +Isabel, would think me mad; and you would tell Mr. Moody I had cheated +him out of his money--that’s another reason. The matter’s in train, if +you will only wait a little longer.” + +“So you say,” Isabel rejoined. “If you really could name the thief, I +believe you would do it now.” + +She turned away with a frown on her pretty face. Old Sharon followed +her. Even his coarse sensibilities appeared to feel the irresistible +ascendancy of beauty and youth. + +“I say!” he began, “we must part friends, you know--or I shall break my +heart over it. They have got milk at the farmhouse. Do you think they +have got pen, ink, and paper too?” + +Isabel answered, without turning to look at him, “Of course they have!” + +“And a bit of sealing-wax?” + +“I daresay!” + +Old Sharon laid his dirty claws on her shoulder and forced her to face +him as the best means of shaking them off. + +“Come along!” he said. “I am going to pacify you with some information +in writing.” + +“Why should you write it?” Isabel asked suspiciously. + +“Because I mean to make my own conditions, my dear, before I let you +into the secret.” + +In ten minutes more they were all three in the farmhouse parlor. Nobody +but the farmer’s wife was at home. The good woman trembled from head to +foot at the sight of Old Sharon. In all her harmless life she had never +yet seen humanity under the aspect in which it was now presented to her. +“Mercy preserve us, Miss!” she whispered to Isabel, “how come you to +be in such company as _that?_” Instructed by Isabel, she produced the +necessary materials for writing and sealing--and, that done, she shrank +away to the door. “Please to excuse me, miss,” she said with a last +horrified look at her venerable visitor; “I really can’t stand the sight +of such a blot of dirt as that in my nice clean parlor.” With those +words she disappeared, and was seen no more. + +Perfectly indifferent to his reception, Old Sharon wrote, inclosed what +he had written in an envelope; and sealed it (in the absence of anything +better fitted for his purpose) with the mouthpiece of his pipe. + +“Now, miss,” he said, “you give me your word of honor,”--he stopped and +looked round at Moody with a grin--“and you give me yours, that you +won’t either of you break the seal on this envelope till the expiration +of one week from the present day. There are the conditions, Miss Isabel, +on which I’ll give you your information. If you stop to dispute with me, +the candle’s alight, and I’ll burn it!” + +It was useless to contend with him. Isabel and Moody gave him the +promise that he required. He handed the sealed envelope to Isabel with +a low bow. “When the week’s out,” he said, “you will own I’m a cleverer +fellow than you think me now. Wish you good evening, Miss. Come along, +Puggy! Farewell to the horrid clean country, and back again to the nice +London stink!” + +He nodded to Moody--he leered at Isabel--he chuckled to himself--he left +the farmhouse. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +ISABEL looked down at the letter in her hand--considered it in +silence--and turned to Moody. “I feel tempted to open it already,” she +said. + +“After giving your promise?” Moody gently remonstrated. + +Isabel met that objection with a woman’s logic. + +“Does a promise matter?” she asked, “when one gives it to a dirty, +disreputable, presuming old wretch like Mr. Sharon? It’s a wonder to me +that you trust such a creature. _I_ wouldn’t!” + +“I doubted him just as you do,” Moody answered, “when I first saw him in +company with Mr. Troy. But there was something in the advice he gave +us at that first consultation which altered my opinion of him for the +better. I dislike his appearance and his manners as much as you do--I +may even say I felt ashamed of bringing such a person to see you. And +yet I can’t think that I have acted unwisely in employing Mr. Sharon.” + +Isabel listened absently. She had something more to say, and she was +considering how she should say it. “May I ask you a bold question?” she +began. + +“Any question you like.” + +“Have you--” she hesitated and looked embarrassed. “Have you paid Mr. +Sharon much money?” she resumed, suddenly rallying her courage. Instead +of answering, Moody suggested that it was time to think of returning +to Miss Pink’s villa. “Your aunt may be getting anxious about you.” he +said. + +Isabel led the way out of the farmhouse in silence. She reverted to Mr. +Sharon and the money, however, as they returned by the path across the +fields. + +“I am sure you will not be offended with me,” she said gently, “if I own +that I am uneasy about the expense. I am allowing you to use your purse +as if it was mine--and I have hardly any savings of my own.” + +Moody entreated her not to speak of it. “How can I put my money to a +better use than in serving your interests?” he asked. “My one object +in life is to relieve you of your present anxieties. I shall be +the happiest man living if you only owe a moment’s happiness to my +exertions!” + +Isabel took his hand, and looked at him with grateful tears in her eyes. + +“How good you are to me, Mr. Moody!” she said. “I wish I could tell you +how deeply I feel your kindness.” + +“You can do it easily,” he answered, with a smile. “Call me +‘Robert’--don’t call me ‘Mr. Moody.’” + +She took his arm with a sudden familiarity that charmed him. “If you had +been my brother I should have called you ‘Robert,’” she said; “and no +brother could have been more devoted to me than you are.” + +He looked eagerly at her bright face turned up to his. “May I never +hope to be something nearer and dearer to you than a brother?” he asked +timidly. + +She hung her head and said nothing. Moody’s memory recalled Sharon’s +coarse reference to her “sweetheart.” She had blushed when he put the +question? What had she done when Moody put _his_ question? Her face +answered for her--she had turned pale; she was looking more serious than +usual. Ignorant as he was of the ways of women, his instinct told him +that this was a bad sign. Surely her rising color would have confessed +it, if time and gratitude together were teaching her to love him? He +sighed as the inevitable conclusion forced itself on his mind. + +“I hope I have not offended you?” he said sadly. + +“Oh, no.” + +“I wish I had not spoken. Pray don’t think that I am serving you with +any selfish motive.” + +“I don’t think that, Robert. I never could think it of _you_.” + +He was not quite satisfied yet. “Even if you were to marry some other +man,” he went on earnestly, “it would make no difference in what I am +trying to do for you. No matter what I might suffer, I should still go +on--for your sake.” + +“Why do you talk so?” she burst out passionately. “No other man has such +a claim as you to my gratitude and regard. How can you let such thoughts +come to you? I have done nothing in secret. I have no friends who are +not known to you. Be satisfied with that, Robert--and let us drop the +subject.” + +“Never to take it up again?” he asked, with the infatuated pertinacity +of a man clinging to his last hope. + +At other times and under other circumstances, Isabel might have answered +him sharply. She spoke with perfect gentleness now. + +“Not for the present,” she said. “I don’t know my own heart. Give me +time.” + +His gratitude caught at those words, as the drowning man is said to +catch at the proverbial straw. He lifted her hand, and suddenly and +fondly pressed his lips on it. She showed no confusion. Was she sorry +for him, poor wretch!--and was that all? + +They walked on, arm-in-arm, in silence. + +Crossing the last field, they entered again on the high road leading +to the row of villas in which Miss Pink lived. The minds of both +were preoccupied. Neither of them noticed a gentleman approaching on +horseback, followed by a mounted groom. He was advancing slowly, at the +walking-pace of his horse, and he only observed the two foot-passengers +when he was close to them. + +“Miss Isabel!” + +She started, looked up, and discovered--Alfred Hardyman. + +He was dressed in a perfectly-made travelling suit of light brown, +with a peaked felt hat of a darker shade of the same color, which, in +a picturesque sense, greatly improved his personal appearance. His +pleasure at discovering Isabel gave the animation to his features which +they wanted on ordinary occasions. He sat his horse, a superb hunter, +easily and gracefully. His light amber-colored gloves fitted him +perfectly. His obedient servant, on another magnificent horse, waited +behind him. He looked the impersonation of rank and breeding--of wealth +and prosperity. What a contrast, in a woman’s eyes, to the shy, pale, +melancholy man, in the ill-fitting black clothes, with the wandering, +uneasy glances, who stood beneath him, and felt, and showed that he +felt, his inferior position keenly! In spite of herself, the treacherous +blush flew over Isabel’s face, in Moody’s presence, and with Moody’s +eyes distrustfully watching her. + +“This is a piece of good fortune that I hardly hoped for,” said +Hardyman, his cool, quiet, dreary way of speaking quickened as usual, +in Isabel’s presence. “I only got back from France this morning, and +I called on Lady Lydiard in the hope of seeing you. She was not at +home--and you were in the country--and the servants didn’t know the +address. I could get nothing out of them, except that you were on a +visit to a relation.” He looked at Moody while he was speaking. “Haven’t +I seen you before?” he said, carelessly. “Yes; at Lady Lydiard’s. You’re +her steward, are you not? How d’ye do?” Moody, with his eyes on the +ground, answered silently by a bow. Hardyman, perfectly indifferent +whether Lady Lydiard’s steward spoke or not, turned on his saddle and +looked admiringly at Isabel. “I begin to think I am a lucky man at +last,” he went on with a smile. “I was jogging along to my farm, and +despairing of ever seeing Miss Isabel again--and Miss Isabel herself +meets me at the roadside! I wonder whether you are as glad to see me as +I am to see you? You won’t tell me--eh? May I ask you something else? +Are you staying in our neighborhood?” + +There was no alternative before Isabel but to answer this last question. +Hardyman had met her out walking, and had no doubt drawn the inevitable +inference--although he was too polite to say so in plain words. + +“Yes, sir,” she answered, shyly, “I am staying in this neighborhood.” + +“And who is your relation?” Hardyman proceeded, in his easy, +matter-of-course way. “Lady Lydiard told me, when I had the pleasure of +meeting you at her house, that you had an aunt living in the country. +I have a good memory, Miss Isabel, for anything that I hear about You! +It’s your aunt, isn’t it? Yes? I know everybody about hew. What is your +aunt’s name?” + +Isabel, still resting her hand on Robert’s arm, felt it tremble a little +as Hardyman made this last inquiry. If she had been speaking to one of +her equals she would have known how to dispose of the question without +directly answering it. But what could she say to the magnificent +gentleman on the stately horse? He had only to send his servant into the +village to ask who the young lady from London was staying with, and the +answer, in a dozen mouths at least, would direct him to her aunt. She +cast one appealing look at Moody and pronounced the distinguished name +of Miss Pink. + +“Miss Pink?” Hardyman repeated. “Surely I know Miss Pink?” (He had not +the faintest remembrances of her.) “Where did I meet her last?” (He ran +over in his memory the different local festivals at which strangers +had been introduced to him.) “Was it at the archery meeting? or at the +grammar-school when the prizes were given? No? It must have been at the +flower show, then, surely?” + +It _had_ been at the flower show. Isabel had heard it from Miss Pink +fifty times at least, and was obliged to admit it now. + +“I am quite ashamed of never having called,” Hardyman proceeded. “The +fact is, I have so much to do. I am a bad one at paying visits. Are you +on your way home? Let me follow you and make my apologies personally to +Miss Pink.” + +Moody looked at Isabel. It was only a momentary glance, but she +perfectly understood it. + +“I am afraid, sir, my aunt cannot have the honor of seeing you to-day,” + she said. + +Hardyman was all compliance. He smiled and patted his horse’s neck. +“To-morrow, then,” he said. “My compliments, and I will call in the +afternoon. Let me see: Miss Pink lives at--?” He waited, as if he +expected Isabel to assist his treacherous memory once more. She +hesitated again. Hardyman looked round at his groom. The groom could +find out the address, even if he did not happen to know it already. +Besides, there was the little row of houses visible at the further end +of the road. Isabel pointed to the villas, as a necessary concession +to good manners, before the groom could anticipate her. “My aunt lives +there, sir; at the house called The Lawn.” + +“Ah! to be sure!” said Hardyman. “I oughtn’t to have wanted reminding; +but I have so many things to think of at the farm. And I am afraid I +must be getting old--my memory isn’t as good as it was. I am so glad to +have seen you, Miss Isabel. You and your aunt must come and look at my +horses. Do you like horses? Are you fond of riding? I have a quiet roan +mare that is used to carrying ladies; she would be just the thing for +you. Did I beg you to give my best compliments to your aunt? Yes? How +well you are looking! our air here agrees with you. I hope I haven’t +kept you standing too long? I didn’t think of it in the pleasure of +meeting you. Good-by, Miss Isabel; good-by, till to-morrow!” + +He took off his hat to Isabel, nodded to Moody, and pursued his way to +the farm. + +Isabel looked at her companion. His eyes were still on the ground. Pale, +silent, motionless, he waited by her like a dog, until she gave the +signal of walking on again towards the house. + +“You are not angry with me for speaking to Mr. Hardyman?” she asked, +anxiously. + +He lifted his head it the sound of her voice. “Angry with you, my dear! +why should I be angry?” + +“You seem so changed, Robert, since we met Mr. Hardyman. I couldn’t help +speaking to him--could I?” + +“Certainly not.” + +They moved on towards the villa. Isabel was still uneasy. There was +something in Moody’s silent submission to all that she said and all that +she did which pained and humiliated her. “You’re not jealous?” she said, +smiling timidly. + +He tried to speak lightly on his side. “I have no time to be jealous +while I have your affairs to look after,” he answered. + +She pressed his arm tenderly. “Never fear, Robert, that new friends will +make me forget the best and dearest friend who is now at my side.” She +paused, and looked up at him with a compassionate fondness that was very +pretty to see. “I can keep out of the way to-morrow, when Mr. Hardyman +calls,” she said. “It is my aunt he is coming to see--not me.” + +It was generously meant. But while her mind was only occupied with the +present time, Moody’s mind was looking into the future. He was learning +the hard lesson of self-sacrifice already. “Do what you think is right,” + he said quietly; “don’t think of me.” + +They reached the gate of the villa. He held out his hand to say good-by. + +“Won’t you come in?” she asked. “Do come in!” + +“Not now, my dear. I must get back to London as soon as I can. There is +some more work to be done for you, and the sooner I do it the better.” + +She heard his excuse without heeding it. + +“You are not like yourself, Robert,” she said. “Why is it? What are you +thinking of?” + +He was thinking of the bright blush that overspread her face when +Hardyman first spoke to her; he was thinking of the invitation to her +to see the stud-farm, and to ride the roan mare; he was thinking of the +utterly powerless position in which he stood towards Isabel and towards +the highly-born gentleman who admired her. But he kept his doubts and +fears to himself. “The train won’t wait for me,” he said, and held out +his hand once more. + +She was not only perplexed; she was really distressed. “Don’t take leave +of me in that cold way!” she pleaded. Her eyes dropped before his, and +her lips trembled a little. “Give me a kiss, Robert, at parting.” She +said those bold words softly and sadly, out of the depth of her pity +for him. He started; his face brightened suddenly; his sinking hope +rose again. In another moment the change came; in another moment he +understood her. As he touched her cheek with his lips, he turned pale +again. “Don’t quite forget me,” he said, in low, faltering tones--and +left her. + +Miss Pink met Isabel in the hall. Refreshed by unbroken repose, the +ex-schoolmistress was in the happiest frame of mind for the reception of +her niece’s news. + +Informed that Moody had travelled to South Morden to personally report +the progress of the inquiries, Miss Pink highly approved of him as a +substitute for Mr. Troy. “Mr. Moody, as a banker’s son, is a gentleman +by birth,” she remarked; “he has condescended, in becoming Lady +Lydiard’s steward. What I saw of him, when he came here with you, +prepossessed me in his favor. He has my confidence, Isabel, as well as +yours--he is in every respect a superior person to Mr. Troy. Did you +meet any friends, my dear, when you were out walking?” + +The answer to this question produced a species of transformation in Miss +Pink. The rapturous rank-worship of her nation feasted, so to speak, on +Hardyman’s message. She looked taller and younger than usual--she was +all smiles and sweetness. “At last, Isabel, you have seen birth and +breeding under their right aspect,” she said. “In the society of Lady +Lydiard, you cannot possibly have formed correct ideas of the English +aristocracy. Observe Mr. Hardyman when he does me the honor to call +to-morrow--and you will see the difference.” + +“Mr. Hardyman is your visitor, aunt--not mine. I was going to ask you to +let me remain upstairs in my room.” + +Miss Pink was unaffectedly shocked. “This is what you learn at Lady +Lydiard’s!” she observed. “No, Isabel, your absence would be a breach +of good manners--I cannot possibly permit it. You will be present to +receive our distinguished friend with me. And mind this!” added Miss +Pink, in her most impressive manner, “If Mr. Hardyman should by any +chance ask why you have left Lady Lydiard, not one word about those +disgraceful circumstances which connect you with the loss of the +banknote! I should sink into the earth if the smallest hint of what +has really happened should reach Mr. Hardyman’s ears. My child, I stand +towards you in the place of your lamented mother; I have the right to +command your silence on this horrible subject, and I do imperatively +command it.” + +In these words foolish Miss Pink sowed the seed for the harvest of +trouble that was soon to come. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +PAYING his court to the ex-schoolmistress on the next day, Hardyman made +such excellent use of his opportunities that the visit to the stud-farm +took place on the day after. His own carriage was placed at the disposal +of Isabel and her aunt; and his own sister was present to confer special +distinction on the reception of Miss Pink. + +In a country like England, which annually suspends the sitting of its +Legislature in honor of a horse-race, it is only natural and proper that +the comfort of the horses should be the first object of consideration at +a stud-farm. Nine-tenths of the land at Hardyman’s farm was devoted, in +one way or another, to the noble quadruped with the low forehead and the +long nose. Poor humanity was satisfied with second-rate and third-rate +accommodation. The ornamental grounds, very poorly laid out, were also +very limited in extent--and, as for the dwelling-house, it was literally +a cottage. A parlor and a kitchen, a smoking-room, a bed-room, and a +spare chamber for a friend, all scantily furnished, sufficed for the +modest wants of the owner of the property. If you wished to feast your +eyes on luxury you went to the stables. + +The stud-farm being described, the introduction to Hardyman’s sister +follows in due course. + +The Honorable Lavinia Hardyman was, as all persons in society know, +married rather late in life to General Drumblade. It is saying a great +deal, but it is not saying too much, to describe Mrs. Drumblade as the +most mischievous woman of her age in all England. Scandal was the breath +of her life; to place people in false positions, to divulge secrets +and destroy characters, to undermine friendships, and aggravate +enmities--these were the sources of enjoyment from which this dangerous +woman drew the inexhaustible fund of good spirits that made her a +brilliant light in the social sphere. She was one of the privileged +sinners of modern society. The worst mischief that she could work was +ascribed to her “exuberant vitality.” She had that ready familiarity of +manner which is (in _her_ class) so rarely discovered to be insolence in +disguise. Her power of easy self-assertion found people ready to accept +her on her own terms wherever she went. She was one of those big, +overpowering women, with blunt manners, voluble tongues, and goggle +eyes, who carry everything before them. The highest society modestly +considered itself in danger of being dull in the absence of Mrs. +Drumblade. Even Hardyman himself--who saw as little of her as possible, +whose frankly straightforward nature recoiled by instinct from contact +with his sister--could think of no fitter person to make Miss Pink’s +reception agreeable to her, while he was devoting his own attentions to +her niece. Mrs. Drumblade accepted the position thus offered with +the most amiable readiness. In her own private mind she placed an +interpretation on her brother’s motives which did him the grossest +injustice. She believed that Hardyman’s designs on Isabel contemplated +the most profligate result. To assist this purpose, while the girl’s +nearest relative was supposed to be taking care of her, was Mrs. +Drumblade’s idea of “fun.” Her worst enemies admitted that the honorable +Lavinia had redeeming qualities, and owned that a keen sense of humor was +one of her merits. + +Was Miss Pink a likely person to resist the fascinations of Mrs. +Drumblade? Alas, for the ex-schoolmistress! before she had been five +minutes at the farm, Hardyman’s sister had fished for her, caught her, +landed her. Poor Miss Pink! + +Mrs. Drumblade could assume a grave dignity of manner when the occasion +called for it. She was grave, she was dignified, when Hardyman performed +the ceremonies of introduction. She would not say she was charmed to +meet Miss Pink--the ordinary slang of society was not for Miss Pink’s +ears--she would say she felt this introduction as a privilege. It was +so seldom one met with persons of trained intellect in society. Mrs. +Drumblade was already informed of Miss Pink’s earlier triumphs in the +instruction of youth. Mrs. Drumblade had not been blessed with children +herself; but she had nephews and nieces, and she was anxious about their +education, especially the nieces. What a sweet, modest girl Miss Isabel +was! The fondest wish she could form for her nieces would be that they +should resemble Miss Isabel when they grew up. The question was, as to +the best method of education. She would own that she had selfish motives +in becoming acquainted with Miss Pink. They were at the farm, no doubt, +to see Alfred’s horses. Mrs. Drumblade did not understand horses; her +interest was in the question of education. She might even confess that +she had accepted Alfred’s invitation in the hope of hearing Miss +Pink’s views. There would be opportunities, she trusted, for a little +instructive conversation on that subject. It was, perhaps, ridiculous to +talk, at her age, of feeling as if she was Miss Pink’s pupil; and yet +it exactly expressed the nature of the aspiration which was then in her +mind. + +In these terms, feeling her way with the utmost nicety, Mrs. Drumblade +wound the net of flattery round and round Miss Pink until her hold on +that innocent lady was, in every sense of the word, secure. Before half +the horses had been passed under review, Hardyman and Isabel were out of +sight, and Mrs. Drumblade and Miss Pink were lost in the intricacies +of the stables. “Excessively stupid of me! We had better go back, and +establish ourselves comfortably in the parlor. When my brother misses +us, he and your charming niece will return to look for us in the +cottage.” Under cover of this arrangement the separation became +complete. Miss Pink held forth on education to Mrs. Drumblade in the +parlor; while Hardyman and Isabel were on their way to a paddock at the +farthest limits of the property. + +“I am afraid you are getting a little tired,” said Hardyman. “Won’t you +take my arm?” + +Isabel was on her guard: she had not forgotten what Lady Lydiard had +said to her. “No, thank you, Mr. Hardyman; I am a better walker than you +think.” + +Hardyman continued the conversation in his blunt, resolute way. “I +wonder whether you will believe me,” he asked, “if I tell you that this +is one of the happiest days of my life.” + +“I should think you were always happy,” Isabel cautiously replied, +“having such a pretty place to live in as this.” + +Hardyman met that answer with one of his quietly-positive denials. “A +man is never happy by himself,” he said. “He is happy with a companion. +For instance, I am happy with you.” + +Isabel stopped and looked back. Hardyman’s language was becoming a +little too explicit. “Surely we have lost Mrs. Drumblade and my aunt,” + she said. “I don’t see them anywhere.” + +“You will see them directly; they are only a long way behind.” With this +assurance, he returned, in his own obstinate way, to his one object in +view. “Miss Isabel, I want to ask you a question. I’m not a ladies’ man. +I speak my mind plainly to everybody--women included. Do you like being +here to-day?” + +Isabel’s gravity was not proof against this very downright question. +“I should be hard to please,” she said laughing, “if I didn’t enjoy my +visit to the farm.” + +Hardyman pushed steadily forward through the obstacle of the farm to +the question of the farm’s master. “You like being here,” he repeated. +“Do you like Me?” + +This was serious. Isabel drew back a little, and looked at him. He +waited with the most impenetrable gravity for her reply. + +“I think you can hardly expect me to answer that question,” she said + +“Why not?” + +“Our acquaintance has been a very short one, Mr. Hardyman. And, if _you_ +are so good as to forget the difference between us, I think _I_ ought to +remember it.” + +“What difference?” + +“The difference in rank.” + +Hardyman suddenly stood still, and emphasized his next words by digging +his stick into the grass. + +“If anything I have said has vexed you,” he began, “tell me so plainly, +Miss Isabel, and I’ll ask your pardon. But don’t throw my rank in my +face. I cut adrift from all that nonsense when I took this farm and got +my living out of the horses. What has a man’s rank to do with a man’s +feelings?” he went on, with another emphatic dig of his stick. “I am +quite serious in asking if you like me--for this good reason, that I +like you. Yes, I do. You remember that day when I bled the old +lady’s dog--well, I have found out since then that there’s a sort of +incompleteness in my life which I never suspected before. It’s you who +have put that idea into my head. You didn’t mean it, I dare say, but you +have done it all the same. I sat alone here yesterday evening smoking +my pipe--and I didn’t enjoy it. I breakfasted alone this morning--and I +didn’t enjoy _that_. I said to myself, She’s coming to lunch, that’s one +comfort--I shall enjoy lunch. That’s what I feel, roughly described. I +don’t suppose I’ve been five minutes together without thinking of you, +now in one way and now in another, since the day when I first saw you. +When a man comes to my time of life, and has had any experience, he +knows what that means. It means, in plain English, that his heart is set +on a woman. You’re the woman.” + +Isabel had thus far made several attempts to interrupt him, without +success. But, when Hardyman’s confession attained its culminating point, +she insisted on being heard. + +“If you will excuse me, sir,” she interposed gravely, “I think I had +better go back to the cottage. My aunt is a stranger here, and she +doesn’t know where to look for us.” + +“We don’t want your aunt,” Hardyman remarked, in his most positive +manner. + +“We do want her,” Isabel rejoined. “I won’t venture to say it’s wrong in +you, Mr. Hardyman, to talk to me as you have just done, but I am quite +sure it’s very wrong of me to listen.” + +He looked at her with such unaffected surprise and distress that she +stopped, on the point of leaving him, and tried to make herself better +understood. + +“I had no intention of offending you, sir,” she said, a little +confusedly. “I only wanted to remind you that there are some things +which a gentleman in your position--” She stopped, tried to finish the +sentence, failed, and began another. “If I had been a young lady in your +own rank of life,” she went on, “I might have thanked you for paying me +a compliment, and have given you a serious answer. As it is, I am afraid +that I must say that you have surprised and disappointed me. I can claim +very little for myself, I know. But I did imagine--so long as there +was nothing unbecoming in my conduct--that I had some right to your +respect.” + +Listening more and more impatiently, Hardyman took her by the hand, and +burst out with another of his abrupt questions. + +“What can you possibly be thinking of?” he asked. + +She gave him no answer; she only looked at him reproachfully, and tried +to release herself. + +Hardyman held her hand faster than ever. + +“I believe you think me an infernal scoundrel!” he said. “I can stand a +good deal, Miss Isabel, but I can’t stand _that_. How have I failed in +respect toward you, if you please? I have told you you’re the woman my +heart is set on. Well? Isn’t it plain what I want of you, when I say +that? Isabel Miller, I want you to be my wife!” + +Isabel’s only reply to this extraordinary proposal of marriage was a +faint cry of astonishment, followed by a sudden trembling that shook her +from head to foot. + +Hardyman put his arm round her with a gentleness which his oldest friend +would have been surprised to see in him. + +“Take your time to think of it,” he said, dropping back again into his +usual quiet tone. “If you had known me a little better you wouldn’t have +mistaken me, and you wouldn’t be looking at me now as if you were afraid +to believe your own ears. What is there so very wonderful in my wanting +to marry you? I don’t set up for being a saint. When I was a younger man +I was no better (and no worse) than other young men. I’m getting on now +to middle life. I don’t want romances and adventures--I want an easy +existence with a nice lovable woman who will make me a good wife. You’re +the woman, I tell you again. I know it by what I’ve seen of you myself, +and by what I have heard of you from Lady Lydiard. She said you were +prudent, and sweet-tempered, and affectionate; to which I wish to add +that you have just the face and figure that I like, and the modest +manners and the blessed absence of all slang in your talk, which I don’t +find in the young women I meet with in the present day. That’s my view +of it: I think for myself. What does it matter to me whether you’re the +daughter of a Duke or the daughter of a Dairyman? It isn’t your father I +want to marry--it’s you. Listen to reason, there’s a dear! We have only +one question to settle before we go back to your aunt. You wouldn’t +answer me when I asked it a little while since. Will you answer now? +_Do_ you like me?” + +Isabel looked up at him timidly. + +“In my position, sir,” she asked, “have I any right to like you? What +would your relations and friends think, if I said Yes?” + +Hardyman gave her waist a little admonitory squeeze with his arm + +“What? You’re at it again? A nice way to answer a man, to call him +‘Sir,’ and to get behind his rank as if it was a place of refuge from +him! I hate talking of myself, but you force me to it. Here is my +position in the world--I have got an elder brother; he is married, +and he has a son to succeed him, in the title and the property. You +understand, so far? Very well! Years ago I shifted my share of the rank +(whatever it may be) on to my brother’s shoulders. He is a thorough good +fellow, and he has carried my dignity for me, without once dropping it, +ever since. As for what people may say, they have said it already, from +my father and mother downward, in the time when I took to the horses and +the farm. If they’re the wise people I take them for, they won’t be at +the trouble of saying it all over again. No, no. Twist it how you may, +Miss Isabel, whether I’m single or whether I’m married, I’m plain Alfred +Hardyman; and everybody who knows me knows that I go on my way, +and please myself. If you don’t like me, it will be the bitterest +disappointment I ever had in my life; but say so honestly, all the +same.” + +Where is the woman in Isabel’s place whose capacity for resistance would +not have yielded a little to such an appeal as this? + +“I should be an insensible wretch,” she replied warmly, “if I didn’t feel +the honor you have done me, and feel it gratefully.” + +“Does that mean you will have me for a husband?” asked downright +Hardyman. + +She was fairly driven into a corner; but (being a woman) she tried to +slip through his fingers at the last moment. + +“Will you forgive me,” she said, “if I ask you for a little more time? I +am so bewildered, I hardly know what to say or do for the best. You see, +Mr. Hardyman, it would be a dreadful thing for me to be the cause of +giving offense to your family. I am obliged to think of that. It would +be so distressing for you (I will say nothing of myself) if your friends +closed their doors on me. They might say I was a designing girl, who had +taken advantage of your good opinion to raise herself in the world. Lady +Lydiard warned me long since not to be ambitious about myself and not +to forget my station in life, because she treated me like her adopted +daughter. Indeed--indeed, I can’t tell you how I feel your goodness, and +the compliment--the very great compliment, you pay me! My heart is free, +and if I followed my own inclinations--” She checked herself, conscious +that she was on the brink of saying too much. “Will you give me a few +days,” she pleaded, “to try if I can think composedly of all this? I +am only a girl, and I feel quite dazzled by the prospect that you set +before me.” + +Hardyman seized on those words as offering all the encouragement that he +desired to his suit. + +“Have your own way in this thing and in everything!” he said, with an +unaccustomed fervor of language and manner. “I am so glad to hear that +your heart is open to me, and that all your inclinations take my part.” + +Isabel instantly protested against this misrepresentation of what she +had really said, “Oh, Mr. Hardyman, you quite mistake me!” + +He answered her very much as he had answered Lady Lydiard, when she had +tried to make him understand his proper relations towards Isabel. + +“No, no; I don’t mistake you. I agree to every word you say. How can I +expect you to marry me, as you very properly remark, unless I give you a +day or two to make up your mind? It’s quite enough for me that you like +the prospect. If Lady Lydiard treated you as her daughter, why shouldn’t +you be my wife? It stands to reason that you’re quite right to marry a +man who can raise you in the world. I like you to be ambitious--though +Heaven knows it isn’t much I can do for you, except to love you with all +my heart. Still, it’s a great encouragement to hear that her Ladyship’s +views agree with mine--” + +“They don’t agree, Mr. Hardyman!” protested poor Isabel. “You are +entirely misrepresenting--” + +Hardyman cordially concurred in this view of the matter. “Yes! yes! I +can’t pretend to represent her Ladyship’s language, or yours either; I +am obliged to take my words as they come to me. Don’t disturb yourself: +it’s all right--I understand. You have made me the happiest man living. +I shall ride over to-morrow to your aunt’s house, and hear what you have +to say to me. Mind you’re at home! Not a day must pass now without my +seeing you. I do love you, Isabel--I do, indeed!” He stooped, and kissed +her heartily. “Only to reward me,” he explained, “for giving you time to +think.” + +She drew herself away from him--resolutely, not angrily. Before she +could make a third attempt to place the subject in its right light +before him, the luncheon bell rang at the cottage--and a servant +appeared evidently sent to look for them. + +“Don’t forget to-morrow,” Hardyman whispered confidentially. “I’ll call +early--and then go to London, and get the ring.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +EVENTS succeeded each other rapidly, after the memorable day to Isabel +of the luncheon at the farm. + +On the next day (the ninth of the month) Lady Lydiard sent for her +steward, and requested him to explain his conduct in repeatedly leaving +the house without assigning any reason for his absence. She did not +dispute his claims to a freedom of action which would not be permitted +to an ordinary servant. Her objection to his present course of +proceeding related entirely to the mystery in which it was involved, and +to the uncertainty in which the household was left as to the hour of +his return. On those grounds, she thought herself entitled to an +explanation. Moody’s habitual reserve--strengthened, on this occasion, +by his dread of ridicule, if his efforts to serve Isabel ended in +failure--disinclined him to take Lady Lydiard into his confidence, +while his inquiries were still beset with obstacles and doubts. He +respectfully entreated her Ladyship to grant him a delay of a few +weeks before he entered on his explanation. Lady Lydiard’s quick temper +resented his request. She told Moody plainly that he was guilty of an +act of presumption in making his own conditions with his employer. He +received the reproof with exemplary resignation; but he held to his +conditions nevertheless. From that moment the result of the interview +was no longer in doubt. Moody was directed to send in his accounts. The +accounts having been examined, and found to be scrupulously correct, he +declined accepting the balance of salary that was offered to him. The +next day he left Lady Lydiard’s service. + +On the tenth of the month her Ladyship received a letter from her +nephew. + +The health of Felix had not improved. He had made up his mind to go +abroad again towards the end of the month. In the meantime, he had +written to his friend in Paris, and he had the pleasure of forwarding an +answer. The letter inclosed announced that the lost five-hundred-pound +note had been made the subject of careful inquiry in Paris. It had not +been traced. The French police offered to send to London one of their +best men, well acquainted with the English language, if Lady Lydiard was +desirous of employing him. He would be perfectly willing to act with an +English officer in conducting the investigation, should it be thought +necessary. Mr. Troy being consulted as to the expediency of accepting +this proposal, objected to the pecuniary terms demanded as being +extravagantly high. He suggested waiting a little before any reply was +sent to Paris; and he engaged meanwhile to consult a London solicitor +who had great experience in cases of theft, and whose advice might +enable them to dispense entirely with the services of the French police. + +Being now a free man again, Moody was able to follow his own +inclinations in regard to the instructions which he had received from +Old Sharon. + +The course that had been recommended to him was repellent to the +self-respect and the sense of delicacy which were among the inbred +virtues of Moody’s character. He shrank from forcing himself as a friend +on Hardyman’s valet: he recoiled from the idea of tempting the man to +steal a specimen of his master’s handwriting. After some consideration, +he decided on applying to the agent who collected the rents at +Hardyman’s London chambers. Being an old acquaintance of Moody’s, +this person would certainly not hesitate to communicate the address of +Hardyman’s bankers, if he knew it. The experiment, tried under these +favoring circumstances, proved perfectly successful. Moody proceeded to +Sharon’s lodgings the same day, with the address of the bankers in his +pocketbook. The old vagabond, greatly amused by Moody’s scruples, +saw plainly enough that, so long as he wrote the supposed letter from +Hardyman in the third person, it mattered little what handwriting was +employed, seeing that no signature would be necessary. The letter was at +once composed, on the model which Sharon had already suggested to Moody, +and a respectable messenger (so far as outward appearances went) was +employed to take it to the bank. In half an hour the answer came back. +It added one more to the difficulties which beset the inquiry after the +lost money. No such sum as five hundred pounds had been paid, within the +dates mentioned, to the credit of Hardyman’s account. + +Old Sharon was not in the least discomposed by this fresh check. “Give +my love to the dear young lady,” he said with his customary impudence; +“and tell her we are one degree nearer to finding the thief.” + +Moody looked at him, doubting whether he was in jest or in earnest. + +“Must I squeeze a little more information into that thick head of +yours?” asked Sharon. With this question he produced a weekly newspaper, +and pointed to a paragraph which reported, among the items of sporting +news, Hardyman’s recent visit to a sale of horses at a town in the north +of France. “We know he didn’t pay the bank-note in to his account,” + Sharon remarked. “What else did he do with it? Took it to pay for the +horses that he bought in France! Do you see your way a little plainer +now? Very good. Let’s try next if your money holds out. Somebody must +cross the Channel in search of the note. Which of us two is to sit in +the steam-boat with a white basin on his lap? Old Sharon, of course!” He +stopped to count the money still left, out of the sum deposited by Moody +to defray the cost of the inquiry. “All right!” he went on. “I’ve got +enough to pay my expenses there and back. Don’t stir out of London till +you hear from me. I can’t tell how soon I may not want you. If there’s +any difficulty in tracing the note, your hand will have to go into your +pocket again. Can’t you get the lawyer to join you? Lord! how I should +enjoy squandering _his_ money! It’s a downright disgrace to me to have +only got one guinea out of him. I could tear my flesh off my bones when +I think of it.” + +The same night Old Sharon started for France, by way of Dover and +Calais. + +Two days elapsed, and brought no news from Moody’s agent. On the third +day, he received some information relating to Sharon--not from the man +himself, but in a letter from Isabel Miller. + +“For once, dear Robert,” she wrote, “my judgment has turned out to be +sounder than yours. That hateful old man has confirmed my worst opinion +of him. Pray have him punished. Take him before a magistrate and charge +him with cheating you out of your money. I inclose the sealed letter +which he gave me at the farmhouse. The week’s time before I was to +open it expired yesterday. Was there ever anything so impudent and so +inhuman? I am too vexed and angry about the money you have wasted on +this old wretch to write more. Yours, gratefully and affectionately, +Isabel.” + +The letter in which Old Sharon had undertaken (by way of pacifying +Isabel) to write the name of the thief, contained these lines: + +“You are a charming girl, my dear; but you still want one thing to make +you perfect--and that is a lesson in patience. I am proud and happy +to teach you. The name of the thief remains, for the present, Mr. ---- +(Blank).” + +From Moody’s point of view, there was but one thing to be said of this: +it was just like Old Sharon! Isabel’s letter was of infinitely greater +interest to him. He feasted his eyes on the words above the signature: +she signed herself, “Yours gratefully and affectionately.” Did the +last words mean that she was really beginning to be fond of him? After +kissing the word, he wrote a comforting letter to her, in which he +pledged himself to keep a watchful eye on Sharon, and to trust him with +no more money until he had honestly earned it first. + +A week passed. Moody (longing to see Isabel) still waited in vain for +news from France. He had just decided to delay his visit to South Morden +no longer, when the errand-boy employed by Sharon brought him this +message: “The old ‘un’s at home, and waitin’ to see yer.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +SHARON’S news was not of an encouraging character. He had met with +serious difficulties, and had spent the last farthing of Moody’s money +in attempting to overcome them. + +One discovery of importance he had certainly made. A horse withdrawn +from the sale was the only horse that had met with Hardyman’s approval. +He had secured the animal at the high reserved price of twelve thousand +francs--being four hundred and eighty pounds in English money; and he +had paid with an English bank-note. The seller (a French horse-dealer +resident in Brussels) had returned to Belgium immediately on completing +the negotiations. Sharon had ascertained his address, and had written to +him at Brussels, inclosing the number of the lost banknote. In two days +he had received an answer, informing him that the horse-dealer had been +called to England by the illness of a relative, and that he had hitherto +failed to send any address to which his letters could be forwarded. +Hearing this, and having exhausted his funds, Sharon had returned to +London. It now rested with Moody to decide whether the course of the +inquiry should follow the horse-dealer next. Here was the cash account, +showing how the money had been spent. And there was Sharon, with his +pipe in his mouth and his dog on his lap, waiting for orders. + +Moody wisely took time to consider before he committed himself to a +decision. In the meanwhile, he ventured to recommend a new course of +proceeding which Sharon’s report had suggested to his mind. + +“It seems to me,” he said, “that we have taken the roundabout way of +getting to our end in view, when the straight road lay before us. If Mr. +Hardyman has passed the stolen note, you know, as well as I do, that he +has passed it innocently. Instead of wasting time and money in trying to +trace a stranger, why not tell Mr. Hardyman what has happened, and ask +him to give us the number of the note? You can’t think of everything, I +know; but it does seem strange that this idea didn’t occur to you before +you went to France.” + +“Mr. Moody,” said Old Sharon, “I shall have to cut your acquaintance. +You are a man without faith; I don’t like you. As if I hadn’t thought of +Hardyman weeks since!” he exclaimed contemptuously. “Are you really soft +enough to suppose that a gentleman in his position would talk about +his money affairs to me? You know mighty little of him if you do. A +fortnight since I sent one of my men (most respectably dressed) to hang +about his farm, and see what information he could pick up. My man became +painfully acquainted with the toe of a boot. It was thick, sir; and it +was Hardyman’s.” + +“I will run the risk of the boot,” Moody replied, in his quiet way. + +“And put the question to Hardyman?” + +“Yes.” + +“Very good,” said Sharon. “If you get your answer from his tongue, +instead of his boot, the case is cleared up--unless I have made a +complete mess of it. Look here, Moody! If you want to do me a good turn, +tell the lawyer that the guinea-opinion was the right one. Let him know +that _he_ was the fool, not you, when he buttoned up his pockets and +refused to trust me. And, I say,” pursued Old Sharon, relapsing into his +customary impudence, “you’re in love, you know, with that nice girl. I +like her myself. When you marry her invite me to the wedding. I’ll +make a sacrifice; I’ll brush my hair and wash my face in honor of the +occasion.” + +Returning to his lodgings, Moody found two letters waiting on the table. +One of them bore the South Morden postmark. He opened that letter first. + +It was written by Miss Pink. The first lines contained an urgent +entreaty to keep the circumstances connected with the loss of the five +hundred pounds the strictest secret from everyone in general, and from +Hardyman in particular. The reasons assigned for making the strange +request were next expressed in these terms: “My niece Isabel is, I +am happy to inform you, engaged to be married to Mr. Hardyman. If the +slightest hint reached him of her having been associated, no matter how +cruelly and unjustly, with a suspicion of theft, the marriage would be +broken off, and the result to herself and to everybody connected with +her, would be disgrace for the rest of our lives.” + +On the blank space at the foot of the page a few words were added in +Isabel’s writing: “Whatever changes there may be in my life, your place +in my heart is one that no other person can fill: it is the place of my +dearest friend. Pray write and tell me that you are not distressed and +not angry. My one anxiety is that you should remember what I have always +told you about the state of my own feelings. My one wish is that you +will still let me love you and value you, as I might have loved and +valued a brother.” + +The letter dropped from Moody’s hand. Not a word--not even a +sigh--passed his lips. In tearless silence he submitted to the pang that +wrung him. In tearless silence he contemplated the wreck of his life. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE narrative returns to South Morden, and follows the events which +attended Isabel’s marriage engagement. + +To say that Miss Pink, inflated by the triumph, rose, morally speaking, +from the earth and floated among the clouds, is to indicate faintly the +effect produced on the ex-schoolmistress when her niece first informed +her of what had happened at the farm. Attacked on one side by her aunt, +and on the other by Hardyman, and feebly defended, at the best, by her +own doubts and misgivings, Isabel ended by surrendering at discretion. +Like thousands of other women in a similar position, she was in the last +degree uncertain as to the state of her own heart. To what extent she +was insensibly influenced by Hardyman’s commanding position in believing +herself to be sincerely attached to him, it was beyond her power of +self-examination to discover. He doubly dazzled her by his birth and +by his celebrity. Not in England only, but throughout Europe, he was a +recognized authority on his own subject. How could she--how could any +woman--resist the influence of his steady mind, his firmness of purpose, +his manly resolution to owe everything to himself and nothing to his +rank, set off as these attractive qualities were by the outward and +personal advantages which exercise an ascendancy of their own? Isabel +was fascinated, and yet Isabel was not at ease. In her lonely moments +she was troubled by regretful thoughts of Moody, which perplexed and +irritated her. She had always behaved honestly to him; she had never +encouraged him to hope that his love for her had the faintest prospect +of being returned. Yet, knowing, as she did, that her conduct was +blameless so far, there were nevertheless perverse sympathies in her +which took his part. In the wakeful hours of the night there were +whispering voices in her which said: “Think of Moody!” Had there been +a growing kindness towards this good friend in her heart, of which she +herself was not aware? She tried to detect it--to weigh it for what it +was really worth. But it lay too deep to be discovered and estimated, +if it did really exist--if it had any sounder origin than her own morbid +fancy. In the broad light of day, in the little bustling duties of life, +she forgot it again. She could think of what she ought to wear on the +wedding day; she could even try privately how her new signature, “Isabel +Hardyman,” would look when she had the right to use it. On the whole, it +may be said that the time passed smoothly--with some occasional checks +and drawbacks, which were the more easily endured seeing that they took +their rise in Isabel’s own conduct. Compliant as she was in general, +there were two instances, among others, in which her resolution to take +her own way was not to be overcome. She refused to write either to Moody +or to Lady Lydiard informing them of her engagement; and she steadily +disapproved of Miss Pink’s policy of concealment, in the matter of the +robbery at Lady Lydiard’s house. Her aunt could only secure her as a +passive accomplice by stating family considerations in the strongest +possible terms. “If the disgrace was confined to you, my dear, I might +leave you to decide. But I am involved in it, as your nearest relative; +and, what is more, even the sacred memories of your father and mother +might feel the slur cast on them.” This exaggerated language--like all +exaggerated language, a mischievous weapon in the arsenal of weakness +and prejudice--had its effect on Isabel. Reluctantly and sadly, she +consented to be silent. + +Miss Pink wrote word of the engagement to Moody first; reserving to a +later day the superior pleasure of informing Lady Lydiard of the very +event which that audacious woman had declared to be impossible. To her +aunt’s surprise, just as she was about to close the envelope Isabel +stepped forward, and inconsistently requested leave to add a postscript +to the very letter which she had refused to write! Miss Pink was not +even permitted to see the postscript. Isabel secured the envelope the +moment she laid down her pen, and retired to her room with a headache +(which was heartache in disguise) for the rest of the day. + +While the question of marriage was still in debate, an event occurred +which exercised a serious influence on Hardyman’s future plans. + +He received a letter from the Continent which claimed his immediate +attention. One of the sovereigns of Europe had decided on making some +radical changes in the mounting and equipment of a cavalry regiment; +and he required the assistance of Hardyman in that important part of the +contemplated reform which was connected with the choice and purchase +of horses. Setting his own interests out of the question, Hardyman owed +obligations to the kindness of his illustrious correspondent which made +it impossible for him to send an excuse. In a fortnight’s time, at the +latest, it would be necessary for him to leave England; and a month or +more might elapse before it would be possible for him to return. + +Under these circumstances, he proposed, in his own precipitate way, to +hasten the date of the marriage. The necessary legal delay would permit +the ceremony to be performed on that day fortnight. Isabel might then +accompany him on his journey, and spend a brilliant honeymoon at the +foreign Court. She at once refused, not only to accept his proposal, but +even to take it into consideration. While Miss Pink dwelt eloquently on +the shortness of the notice, Miss Pink’s niece based her resolution +on far more important grounds. Hardyman had not yet announced the +contemplated marriage to his parents and friends; and Isabel was +determined not to become his wife until she could be first assured of a +courteous and tolerant reception by the family--if she could hope for no +warmer welcome at their hands. + +Hardyman was not a man who yielded easily, even in trifles. In the +present case, his dearest interests were concerned in inducing Isabel +to reconsider her decision. He was still vainly trying to shake her +resolution, when the afternoon post brought a letter for Miss Pink which +introduced a new element of disturbance into the discussion. The letter +was nothing less than Lady Lydiard’s reply to the written announcement +of Isabel’s engagement, despatched on the previous day by Miss Pink. + +Her Ladyship’s answer was a surprisingly short one. It only contained +these lines: + +“Lady Lydiard begs to acknowledge the receipt of Miss Pink’s letter +requesting that she will say nothing to Mr. Hardyman of the loss of +a bank-note in her house, and, assigning as a reason that Miss Isabel +Miller is engaged to be married to Mr. Hardyman, and might be prejudiced +in his estimation if the facts were made known. Miss Pink may make her +mind easy. Lady Lydiard had not the slightest intention of taking Mr. +Hardyman into her confidence on the subject of her domestic affairs. +With regard to the proposed marriage, Lady Lydiard casts no doubt on +Miss Pink’s perfect sincerity and good faith; but, at the same time, +she positively declines to believe that Mr. Hardyman means to make +Miss Isabel Miller his wife. Lady L. will yield to the evidence of a +properly-attested certificate--and to nothing else.” + + +A folded piece of paper, directed to Isabel, dropped out of this +characteristic letter as Miss Pink turned from the first page to the +second. Lady Lydiard addressed her adopted daughter in these words: + +“I was on the point of leaving home to visit you again, when I received +your aunt’s letter. My poor deluded child, no words can tell how +distressed I am about you. You are already sacrificed to the folly of +the most foolish woman living. For God’s sake, take care you do not fall +a victim next to the designs of a profligate man. Come to me instantly, +Isabel, and I promise to take care of you.” + +Fortified by these letters, and aided by Miss Pink’s indignation, +Hardyman pressed his proposal on Isabel with renewed resolution. She +made no attempt to combat his arguments--she only held firmly to her +decision. Without some encouragement from Hardyman’s father and mother +she still steadily refused to become his wife. Irritated already by +Lady Lydiard’s letters, he lost the self-command which so eminently +distinguished him in the ordinary affairs of life, and showed the +domineering and despotic temper which was an inbred part of his +disposition. Isabel’s high spirit at once resented the harsh terms in +which he spoke to her. In the plainest words, she released him from his +engagement, and, without waiting for his excuses, quitted the room. + +Left together, Hardyman and Miss Pink devised an arrangement which +paid due respect to Isabel’s scruples, and at the same time met Lady +Lydiard’s insulting assertion of disbelief in Hardyman’s honor, by a +formal and public announcement of the marriage. + +It was proposed to give a garden party at the farm in a week’s time +for the express purpose of introducing Isabel to Hardyman’s family and +friends in the character of his betrothed wife. If his father and mother +accepted the invitation, Isabel’s only objection to hastening the union +would fall to the ground. Hardyman might, in that case, plead with his +Imperial correspondent for a delay in his departure of a few days more; +and the marriage might still take place before he left England. Isabel, +at Miss Pink’s intercession, was induced to accept her lover’s excuses, +and, in the event of her favorable reception by Hardyman’s parents at +the farm, to give her consent (not very willingly even yet) to hastening +the ceremony which was to make her Hardyman’s wife. + +On the next morning the whole of the invitations were sent out, +excepting the invitation to Hardyman’s father and mother. Without +mentioning it to Isabel, Hardyman decided on personally appealing to +his mother before he ventured on taking the head of the family into his +confidence. + +The result of the interview was partially successful--and no more. Lord +Rotherfield declined to see his youngest son; and he had engagements +which would, under any circumstances, prevent his being present at the +garden party. But at the express request of Lady Rotherfield, he was +willing to make certain concessions. + +“I have always regarded Alfred as a barely sane person,” said his +Lordship, “since he turned his back on his prospects to become a horse +dealer. If we decline altogether to sanction this new act--I won’t say, +of insanity, I will say, of absurdity--on his part, it is impossible to +predict to what discreditable extremities he may not proceed. We must +temporise with Alfred. In the meantime I shall endeavor to obtain some +information respecting this young person--named Miller, I think you +said, and now resident at South Morden. If I am satisfied that she is +a woman of reputable character, possessing an average education and +presentable manners, we may as well let Alfred take his own way. He is +out of the pale of Society, as it is; and Miss Miller has no father and +mother to complicate matters, which is distinctly a merit on her part +and, in short, if the marriage is not absolutely disgraceful, the wisest +way (as we have no power to prevent it) will be to submit. You will say +nothing to Alfred about what I propose to do. I tell you plainly I +don’t trust him. You will simply inform him from me that I want time to +consider, and that, unless he hears to the contrary in the interval, he +may expect to have the sanction of your presence at his breakfast, or +luncheon, or whatever it is. I must go to town in a day or two, and I +shall ascertain what Alfred’s friends know about this last of his many +follies, if I meet any of them at the club.” + +Returning to South Morden in no serene frame of mind, Hardyman found +Isabel in a state of depression which perplexed and alarmed him. + +The news that his mother might be expected to be present at the garden +party failed entirely to raise her spirits. The only explanation she +gave of the change in her was, that the dull heavy weather of the +last few days made her feel a little languid and nervous. Naturally +dissatisfied with this reply to his inquiries, Hardyman asked for +Miss Pink. He was informed that Miss Pink could not see him. She was +constitutionally subject to asthma, and, having warnings of the return +of the malady, she was (by the doctor’s advice) keeping her room. +Hardyman returned to the farm in a temper which was felt by everybody in +his employment, from the trainer to the stable-boys. + +While the apology made for Miss Pink stated no more than the plain +truth, it must be confessed that Hardyman was right in declining to be +satisfied with Isabel’s excuse for the melancholy that oppressed her. +She had that morning received Moody’s answer to the lines which she had +addressed to him at the end of her aunt’s letter; and she had not yet +recovered from the effect which it had produced on her spirits. + +“It is impossible for me to say honestly that I am not distressed (Moody +wrote) by the news of your marriage engagement. The blow has fallen very +heavily on me. When I look at the future now, I see only a dreary blank. +This is not your fault--you are in no way to blame. I remember the time +when I should have been too angry to own this--when I might have said or +done things which I should have bitterly repented afterwards. That time +is past. My temper has been softened, since I have befriended you in +your troubles. That good at least has come out of my foolish hopes, +and perhaps out of the true sympathy which I have felt for you. I +can honestly ask you to accept my heart’s dearest wishes for your +happiness--and I can keep the rest to myself. + +“Let me say a word now relating to the efforts that I have made to help +you, since that sad day when you left Lady Lydiard’s house. + +“I had hoped (for reasons which it is needless to mention here) to +interest Mr. Hardyman himself in aiding our inquiry. But your aunt’s +wishes, as expressed in her letter to me, close my lips. I will only +beg you, at some convenient time, to let me mention the last discoveries +that we have made; leaving it to your discretion, when Mr. Hardyman +has become your husband, to ask him the questions which, under other +circumstances, I should have put to him myself. + +“It is, of course, possible that the view I take of Mr. Hardyman’s +capacity to help us may be a mistaken one. In this case, if you still +wish the investigation to be privately carried on, I entreat you to let +me continue to direct it, as the greatest favor you can confer on your +devoted old friend. + +“You need be under no apprehension about the expense to which you are +likely to put me. I have unexpectedly inherited what is to me a handsome +fortune. + +“The same post which brought your aunt’s letter brought a line from a +lawyer asking me to see him on the subject of my late father’s affairs. +I waited a day or two before I could summon heart enough to see him, or +to see anybody; and then I went to his office. You have heard that +my father’s bank stopped payment, at a time of commercial panic. His +failure was mainly attributable to the treachery of a friend to whom +he had lent a large sum of money, and who paid him the yearly interest, +without acknowledging that every farthing of it had been lost in +unsuccessful speculations. The son of this man has prospered in +business, and he has honorably devoted a part of his wealth to the +payment of his father’s creditors. Half the sum due to _my_ father has +thus passed into my hands as his next of kin; and the other half is to +follow in course of time. If my hopes had been fulfilled, how gladly +I should have shared my prosperity with you! As it is, I have far more +than enough for my wants as a lonely man, and plenty left to spend in +your service. + +“God bless and prosper you, my dear. I shall ask you to accept a little +present from me, among the other offerings that are made to you before +the wedding day.--R.M.” + + +The studiously considerate and delicate tone in which these lines were +written had an effect on Isabel which was exactly the opposite of the +effect intended by the writer. She burst into a passionate fit of tears; +and in the safe solitude of her own room, the despairing words escaped +her, “I wish I had died before I met with Alfred Hardyman!” + +As the days wore on, disappointments and difficulties seemed by a kind +of fatality to beset the contemplated announcement of the marriage. + +Miss Pink’s asthma, developed by the unfavorable weather, set the +doctor’s art at defiance, and threatened to keep that unfortunate lady +a prisoner in her room on the day of the party. Hardyman’s invitations +were in some cases refused; and in others accepted by husbands with +excuses for the absence of their wives. His elder brother made an +apology for himself as well as for his wife. Felix Sweetsir wrote, “With +pleasure, dear Alfred, if my health permits me to leave the house.” Lady +Lydiard, invited at Miss Pink’s special request, sent no reply. The one +encouraging circumstance was the silence of Lady Rotherfield. So long as +her son received no intimation to the contrary, it was a sign that Lord +Rotherfield permitted his wife to sanction the marriage by her presence. + +Hardyman wrote to his Imperial correspondent, engaging to leave England +on the earliest possible day, and asking to be pardoned if he failed to +express himself more definitely, in consideration of domestic affairs, +which it was necessary to settle before he started for the Continent. +If there should not be time enough to write again, he promised to send +a telegraphic announcement of his departure. Long afterwards, Hardyman +remembered the misgivings that had troubled him when he wrote that +letter. In the rough draught of it, he had mentioned, as his excuse +for not being yet certain of his own movements, that he expected to +be immediately married. In the fair copy, the vague foreboding of some +accident to come was so painfully present to his mind, that he struck +out the words which referred to his marriage, and substituted the +designedly indefinite phrase, “domestic affairs.” + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE day of the garden party arrived. There was no rain; but the air was +heavy, and the sky was overcast by lowering clouds. + +Some hours before the guests were expected, Isabel arrived alone at +the farm, bearing the apologies of unfortunate Miss Pink, still kept a +prisoner in her bed-chamber by the asthma. In the confusion produced at +the cottage by the preparations for entertaining the company, the one +room in which Hardyman could receive Isabel with the certainty of not +being interrupted was the smoking-room. To this haven of refuge he led +her--still reserved and silent, still not restored to her customary +spirits. “If any visitors come before the time,” Hardyman said to his +servant, “tell them I am engaged at the stables. I must have an hour’s +quiet talk with you,” he continued, turning to Isabel, “or I shall be in +too bad a temper to receive my guests with common politeness. The worry +of giving this party is not to be told in words. I almost wish I had +been content with presenting you to my mother, and had let the rest of +my acquaintances go to the devil.” + +A quiet half hour passed; and the first visitor, a stranger to the +servants, appeared at the cottage-gate. He was a middle-aged man, and +he had no wish to disturb Mr. Hardyman. “I will wait in the grounds,” he +said, “and trouble nobody.” The middle-aged man, who expressed himself +in these modest terms, was Robert Moody. + +Five minutes later, a carriage drove up to the gate. An elderly lady got +out of it, followed by a fat white Scotch terrier, who growled at every +stranger within his reach. It is needless to introduce Lady Lydiard and +Tommie. + +Informed that Mr. Hardyman was at the stables, Lady Lydiard gave the +servant her card. “Take that to your master, and say I won’t detain +him five minutes.” With these words, her Ladyship sauntered into the +grounds. She looked about her with observant eyes; not only noticing +the tent which had been set up on the grass to accommodate the expected +guests, but entering it, and looking at the waiters who were engaged +in placing the luncheon on the table. Returning to the outer world, she +next remarked that Mr. Hardyman’s lawn was in very bad order. Barren +sun-dried patches, and little holes and crevices opened here and +there by the action of the summer heat, announced that the lawn, like +everything else at the farm, had been neglected, in the exclusive +attention paid to the claims of the horses. Reaching a shrubbery which +bounded one side of the grounds next, her Ladyship became aware of a man +slowly approaching her, to all appearance absorbed in thought. The +man drew a little nearer. She lifted her glasses to her eyes and +recognized--Moody. + +No embarrassment was produced on either side by this unexpected meeting. +Lady Lydiard had, not long since, sent to ask her former steward to +visit her; regretting, in her warm-hearted way, the terms on which they +had separated, and wishing to atone for the harsh language that had +escaped her at their parting interview. In the friendly talk which +followed the reconciliation, Lady Lydiard not only heard the news +of Moody’s pecuniary inheritance--but, noticing the change in his +appearance for the worse, contrived to extract from him the confession +of his ill-starred passion for Isabel. To discover him now, after all +that he had acknowledged, walking about the grounds at Hardyman’s farm, +took her Ladyship completely by surprise. “Good Heavens!” she exclaimed, +in her loudest tones, “what are you doing here?” + +“You mentioned Mr. Hardyman’s garden party, my Lady, when I had the +honor of waiting on you,” Moody answered. “Thinking over it afterward, +it seemed the fittest occasion I could find for making a little wedding +present to Miss Isabel. Is there any harm in my asking Mr. Hardyman to +let me put the present on her plate, so that she may see it when she +sits down to luncheon? If your Ladyship thinks so, I will go away +directly, and send the gift by post.” + +Lady Lydiard looked at him attentively. “You don’t despise the girl,” + she asked, “for selling herself for rank and money? I do--I can tell +you!” + +Moody’s worn white face flushed a little. “No, my Lady,” he answered, +“I can’t hear you say that! Isabel would not have engaged herself to Mr. +Hardyman unless she had been fond of him--as fond, I dare say, as I once +hoped she might be of me. It’s a hard thing to confess that; but I do +confess it, in justice to her--God bless her!” + +The generosity that spoke in those simple words touched the finest +sympathies in Lady Lydiard’s nature. “Give me your hand,” she said, with +her own generous spirit kindling in her eyes. “You have a great heart, +Moody. Isabel Miller is a fool for not marrying _you_--and one day she +will know it!” + +Before a word more could pass between them, Hardyman’s voice was audible +on the other side of the shrubbery, calling irritably to his servant to +find Lady Lydiard. + +Moody retired to the further end of the walk, while Lady Lydiard +advanced in the opposite direction, so as to meet Hardyman at the +entrance to the shrubbery. He bowed stiffly, and begged to know why her +Ladyship had honored him with a visit. + +Lady Lydiard replied without noticing the coldness of her reception. + +“I have not been very well, Mr. Hardyman, or you would have seen me +before this. My only object in presenting myself here is to make my +excuses personally for having written of you in terms which expressed +a doubt of your honor. I have done you an injustice, and I beg you to +forgive me.” + +Hardyman acknowledged this frank apology as unreservedly as it had been +offered to him. “Say no more, Lady Lydiard. And let me hope, now you are +here, that you will honor my little party with your presence.” + +Lady Lydiard gravely stated her reasons for not accepting the +invitation. + +“I disapprove so strongly of unequal marriages,” she said, walking +on slowly towards the cottage, “that I cannot, in common consistency, +become one of your guests. I shall always feel interested in Isabel +Miller’s welfare; and I can honestly say I shall be glad if your married +life proves that my old-fashioned prejudices are without justification +in your case. Accept my thanks for your invitation; and let me hope that +my plain speaking has not offended you.” + +She bowed, and looked about her for Tommie before she advanced to the +carriage waiting for her at the gate. In the surprise of seeing +Moody she had forgotten to look back for the dog when she entered +the shrubbery. She now called to him, and blew the whistle at her +watch-chain. Not a sign of Tommie was to be seen. Hardyman instantly +directed the servants to search in the cottage and out of the cottage +for the dog. The order was obeyed with all needful activity and +intelligence, and entirely without success. For the time being at any +rate, Tommie was lost. + +Hardyman promised to have the dog looked for in every part of the farm, +and to send him back in the care of one of his own men. With these +polite assurances Lady Lydiard was obliged to be satisfied. She drove +away in a very despondent frame of mind. “First Isabel, and now Tommie,” + thought her Ladyship. “I am losing the only companions who made life +tolerable to me.” + +Returning from the garden gate, after taking leave of his visitor, +Hardyman received from his servant a handful of letters which had just +arrived for him. Walking slowly over the lawn as he opened them, he +found nothing but excuses for the absence of guests who had already +accepted their invitations. He had just thrust the letters into his +pocket, when he heard footsteps behind him, and, looking round, found +himself confronted by Moody. + +“Hullo! have you come to lunch?” Hardyman asked, roughly. + +“I have come here, sir, with a little gift for Miss Isabel, in honor of +her marriage,” Moody answered quietly, “and I ask your permission to +put it on the table, so that she may see it when your guests sit down to +luncheon.” + +He opened a jeweler’s case as he spoke, containing a plain gold bracelet +with an inscription engraved on the inner side: “To Miss Isabel Miller, +with the sincere good wishes of Robert Moody.” + +Plain as it was, the design of the bracelet was unusually beautiful. +Hardyman had noticed Moody’s agitation on the day when he had met Isabel +near her aunt’s house, and had drawn his own conclusions from it. His +face darkened with a momentary jealousy as he looked at the bracelet. +“All right, old fellow!” he said, with contemptuous familiarity. “Don’t +be modest. Wait and give it to her with your own hand.” + +“No, sir,” said Moody “I would rather leave it, if you please, to speak +for itself.” + +Hardyman understood the delicacy of feeling which dictated those words, +and, without well knowing why, resented it. He was on the point of +speaking, under the influence of this unworthy motive, when Isabel’s +voice reached his ears, calling to him from the cottage. + +Moody’s face contracted with a sudden expression of pain as he, too, +recognized the voice. “Don’t let me detain you, sir,” he said, sadly. +“Good-morning!” + +Hardyman left him without ceremony. Moody, slowly following, entered the +tent. All the preparations for the luncheon had been completed; nobody +was there. The places to be occupied by the guests were indicated +by cards bearing their names. Moody found Isabel’s card, and put his +bracelet inside the folded napkin on her plate. For a while he stood +with his hand on the table, thinking. The temptation to communicate once +more with Isabel before he lost her forever, was fast getting the better +of his powers of resistance. + +“If I could persuade her to write a word to say she liked her bracelet,” + he thought, “it would be a comfort when I go back to my solitary life.” + He tore a leaf out of his pocket book and wrote on it, “One line to say +you accept my gift and my good wishes. Put it under the cushion of your +chair, and I shall find it when the company have left the tent.” He +slipped the paper into the case which held the bracelet, and instead of +leaving the farm as he had intended, turned back to the shelter of the +shrubbery. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +HARDYMAN went on to the cottage. He found Isabel in some agitation. +And there, by her side, with his tail wagging slowly, and his eye on +Hardyman in expectation of a possible kick--there was the lost Tommie! + +“Has Lady Lydiard gone?” Isabel asked eagerly. + +“Yes,” said Hardyman. “Where did you find the dog?” + +As events had ordered it, the dog had found Isabel, under these +circumstances. + +The appearance of Lady Lydiard’s card in the smoking-room had been an +alarming event for Lady Lydiard’s adopted daughter. She was guiltily +conscious of not having answered her Ladyship’s note, inclosed in +Miss Pink’s letter, and of not having taken her Ladyship’s advice in +regulating her conduct towards Hardyman. As he rose to leave the room +and receive his visitor in the grounds, Isabel begged him to say nothing +of her presence at the farm, unless Lady Lydiard exhibited a forgiving +turn of mind by asking to see her. Left by herself in the smoking-room, +she suddenly heard a bark in the passage which had a familiar sound in +her ears. She opened the door--and in rushed Tommie, with one of his +shrieks of delight! Curiosity had taken him into the house. He had heard +the voices in the smoking-room; had recognized Isabel’s voice; and +had waited, with his customary cunning and his customary distrust of +strangers, until Hardyman was out of the way. Isabel kissed and caressed +him, and then drove him out again to the lawn, fearing that Lady Lydiard +might return to look for him. Going back to the smoking-room, she stood +at the window watching for Hardyman’s return. When the servants came to +look for the dog, she could only tell them that she had last seen him +in the grounds, not far from the cottage. The useless search being +abandoned, and the carriage having left the gate, who should crawl out +from the back of a cupboard in which some empty hampers were placed but +Tommie himself! How he had contrived to get back to the smoking-room +(unless she had omitted to completely close the door on her return) it +was impossible to say. But there he was, determined this time to stay +with Isabel, and keeping in his hiding place until he heard the movement +of the carriage-wheels, which informed him that his lawful mistress had +left the cottage! Isabel had at once called Hardyman, on the chance +that the carriage might yet be stopped. It was already out of sight, and +nobody knew which of two roads it had taken, both leading to London. In +this emergency, Isabel could only look at Hardyman and ask what was to +be done. + +“I can’t spare a servant till after the party,” he answered. “The dog +must be tied up in the stables.” + +Isabel shook her head. Tommie was not accustomed to be tied up. He would +make a disturbance, and he would be beaten by the grooms. “I will take +care of him,” she said. “He won’t leave me.” + +“There’s something else to think of besides the dog,” Hardyman rejoined +irritably. “Look at these letters!” He pulled them out of his pocket as +he spoke. “Here are no less than seven men, all calling themselves my +friends, who accepted my invitation, and who write to excuse themselves +on the very day of the party. Do you know why? They’re all afraid of my +father--I forgot to tell you he’s a Cabinet Minister as well as a Lord. +Cowards and cads. They have heard he isn’t coming and they think to +curry favor with the great man by stopping away. Come along, Isabel! +Let’s take their names off the luncheon table. Not a man of them shall +ever darken my doors again!” + +“I am to blame for what has happened,” Isabel answered sadly. “I am +estranging you from your friends. There is still time, Alfred, to alter +your mind and let me go.” + +He put his arm round her with rough fondness. “I would sacrifice every +friend I have in the world rather than lose you. Come along!” + +They left the cottage. At the entrance to the tent, Hardyman noticed +the dog at Isabel’s heels, and vented his ill-temper, as usual with male +humanity, on the nearest unoffending creature that he could find. “Be +off, you mongrel brute!” he shouted. The tail of Tommie relaxed from its +customary tight curve over the small of his back; and the legs of Tommie +(with his tail between them) took him at full gallop to the friendly +shelter of the cupboard in the smoking-room. It was one of those +trifling circumstances which women notice seriously. Isabel said +nothing; she only thought to herself, “I wish he had shown his temper +when I first knew him!” + +They entered the tent. + +“I’ll read the names,” said Hardyman, “and you find the cards and tear +them up. Stop! I’ll keep the cards. You’re just the sort of woman my +father likes. He’ll be reconciled to me when he sees you, after we are +married. If one of those men ever asks him for a place, I’ll take +care, if it’s years hence, to put an obstacle in his way! Here; take my +pencil, and make a mark on the cards to remind me; the same mark I set +against a horse in my book when I don’t like him--a cross, inclosed in a +circle.” He produced his pocketbook. His hands trembled with anger as +he gave the pencil to Isabel and laid the book on the table. He had just +read the name of the first false friend, and Isabel had just found +the card, when a servant appeared with a message. “Mrs. Drumblade +has arrived, sir, and wishes to see you on a matter of the greatest +importance.” + +Hardyman left the tent, not very willingly. “Wait here,” he said to +Isabel; “I’ll be back directly.” + +She was standing near her own place at the table. Moody had left one +end of the jeweler’s case visible above the napkin, to attract her +attention. In a minute more the bracelet and note were in her hands. She +dropped on her chair, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions that rose +in her at the sight of the bracelet, at the reading of the note. Her +head drooped, and the tears filled her eyes. “Are all women as blind +as I have been to what is good and noble in the men who love them?” she +wondered, sadly. “Better as it is,” she thought, with a bitter sigh; “I +am not worthy of him.” + +As she took up the pencil to write her answer to Moody on the back of +her dinner-card, the servant appeared again at the door of the tent. + +“My master wants you at the cottage, miss, immediately.” + +Isabel rose, putting the bracelet and the note in the silver-mounted +leather pocket (a present from Hardyman) which hung at her belt. In the +hurry of passing round the table to get out, she never noticed that her +dress touched Hardyman’s pocketbook, placed close to the edge, and threw +it down on the grass below. The book fell into one of the heat cracks +which Lady Lydiard had noticed as evidence of the neglected condition of +the cottage lawn. + +“You ought to hear the pleasant news my sister has just brought me,” + said Hardyman, when Isabel joined him in the parlor. “Mrs. Drumblade has +been told, on the best authority, that my mother is not coming to the +party.” + +“There must be some reason, of course, dear Isabel,” added Mrs. +Drumblade. “Have you any idea of what it can be? I haven’t seen my +mother myself; and all my inquiries have failed to find it out.” + +She looked searchingly at Isabel as she spoke. The mask of sympathy on +her face was admirably worn. Nobody who possessed only a superficial +acquaintance with Mrs. Drumblade’s character would have suspected how +thoroughly she was enjoying in secret the position of embarrassment in +which her news had placed her brother. Instinctively doubting whether +Mrs. Drumblade’s friendly behavior was quite as sincere as it appeared +to be, Isabel answered that she was a stranger to Lady Rotherfield, and +was therefore quite at a loss to explain the cause of her ladyship’s +absence. As she spoke, the guests began to arrive in quick succession, +and the subject was dropped as a matter of course. + +It was not a merry party. Hardyman’s approaching marriage had been made +the topic of much malicious gossip, and Isabel’s character had, as usual +in such cases, become the object of all the false reports that +scandal could invent. Lady Rotherfield’s absence confirmed the general +conviction that Hardyman was disgracing himself. The men were all +more or less uneasy. The women resented the discovery that Isabel +was--personally speaking, at least--beyond the reach of hostile +criticism. Her beauty was viewed as a downright offense; her refined and +modest manners were set down as perfect acting; “really disgusting, +my dear, in so young a girl.” General Drumblade, a large and mouldy +veteran, in a state of chronic astonishment (after his own matrimonial +experience) at Hardyman’s folly in marrying at all, diffused a wide +circle of gloom, wherever he went and whatever he did. His accomplished +wife, forcing her high spirits on everybody’s attention with a sort of +kittenish playfulness, intensified the depressing effect of the general +dullness by all the force of the strongest contrast. After waiting half +an hour for his mother, and waiting in vain, Hardyman led the way to the +tent in despair. “The sooner I fill their stomachs and get rid of them,” + he thought savagely, “the better I shall be pleased!” + +The luncheon was attacked by the company with a certain silent ferocity, +which the waiters noticed as remarkable, even in their large experience. +The men drank deeply, but with wonderfully little effect in raising +their spirits; the women, with the exception of amiable Mrs. Drumblade, +kept Isabel deliberately out of the conversation that went on among +them. General Drumblade, sitting next to her in one of the places of +honor, discoursed to Isabel privately on “my brother-in-law Hardyman’s +infernal temper.” A young marquis, on her other side--a mere lad, +chosen to make the necessary speech in acknowledgment of his superior +rank--rose, in a state of nervous trepidation, to propose Isabel’s +health as the chosen bride of their host. Pale and trembling, conscious +of having forgotten the words which he had learnt beforehand, this +unhappy young nobleman began: “Ladies and gentlemen, I haven’t an +idea--” He stopped, put his hand to his head, stared wildly, and sat +down again; having contrived to state his own case with masterly brevity +and perfect truth, in a speech of seven words. + +While the dismay, in some cases, and the amusement in others, was still +at its height, Hardyman’s valet made his appearance, and, approaching +his master, said in a whisper, “Could I speak to you, sit, for a moment +outside?” + +“What the devil do you want?” Hardyman asked irritably. “Is that a +letter in your hand? Give it to me.” + +The valet was a Frenchman. In other words, he had a sense of what was +due to himself. His master had forgotten this. He gave up the letter +with a certain dignity of manner, and left the tent. Hardyman opened the +letter. He turned pale as he read it; crumpled it in his hand, and threw +it down on the table. “By G--d! it’s a lie!” he exclaimed furiously. + +The guests rose in confusion. Mrs. Drumblade, finding the letter within +her reach, coolly possessed herself of it; recognized her mother’s +handwriting; and read these lines: + +“I have only now succeeded in persuading your father to let me write +to you. For God’s sake, break off your marriage at any sacrifice. Your +father has heard, on unanswerable authority, that Miss Isabel Miller +left her situation in Lady Lydiard’s house on suspicion of theft.” + +While his sister was reading this letter, Hardyman had made his way to +Isabel’s chair. “I must speak to you, directly,” he whispered. “Come +away with me!” He turned, as he took her arm, and looked at the table. +“Where is my letter?” he asked. Mrs. Drumblade handed it to him, +dexterously crumpled up again as she had found it. “No bad news, dear +Alfred, I hope?” she said, in her most affectionate manner. Hardyman +snatched the letter from her, without answering, and led Isabel out of +the tent. + +“Read that!” he said, when they were alone. “And tell me at once whether +it’s true or false.” + +Isabel read the letter. For a moment the shock of the discovery held her +speechless. She recovered herself, and returned the letter. + +“It is true,” she answered. + +Hardyman staggered back as if she had shot him. + +“True that you are guilty?” he asked. + +“No; I am innocent. Everybody who knows me believes in my innocence. +It is true the appearances were against me. They are against me still.” + Having said this, she waited, quietly and firmly, for his next words. + +He passed his hand over his forehead with a sigh of relief. “It’s bad +enough as it is,” he said, speaking quietly on his side. “But the remedy +for it is plain enough. Come back to the tent.” + +She never moved. “Why?” she asked. + +“Do you suppose I don’t believe in your innocence too?” he answered. +“The one way of setting you right with the world now is for me to make +you my wife, in spite of the appearances that point to you. I’m too fond +of you, Isabel, to give you up. Come back with me, and I will announce +our marriage to my friends.” + +She took his hand, and kissed it. “It is generous and good of you,” she +said; “but it must not be.” + +He took a step nearer to her. “What do you mean?” he asked. + +“It was against my will,” she pursued, “that my aunt concealed the truth +from you. I did wrong to consent to it, I will do wrong no more. Your +mother is right, Alfred. After what has happened, I am not fit to be +your wife until my innocence is proved. It is not proved yet.” + +The angry color began to rise in his face once more. “Take care,” he +said; “I am not in a humor to be trifled with.” + +“I am not trifling with you,” she answered, in low, sad tones. + +“You really mean what you say?” + +“I mean it.” + +“Don’t be obstinate, Isabel. Take time to consider.” + +“You are very kind, Alfred. My duty is plain to me. I will marry you--if +you still wish it--when my good name is restored to me. Not before.” + +He laid one hand on her arm, and pointed with the other to the guests in +the distance, all leaving the tent on the way to their carriages. + +“Your good name will be restored to you,” he said, “on the day when I +make you my wife. The worst enemy you have cannot associate _my_ name +with a suspicion of theft. Remember that and think a little before you +decide. You see those people there. If you don’t change your mind by the +time they have got to the cottage, it’s good-by between us, and good-by +forever. I refuse to wait for you; I refuse to accept a conditional +engagement. Wait, and think. They’re walking slowly; you have got some +minutes more.” + +He still held her arm, watching the guests as they gradually receded +from view. It was not until they had all collected in a group outside +the cottage door that he spoke himself, or that he permitted Isabel to +speak again. + +“Now,” he said, “you have had your time to get cool. Will you take my +arm, and join those people with me? or will you say good-by forever?” + +“Forgive me, Alfred!” she began, gently. “I cannot consent, in justice +to you, to shelter myself behind your name. It is the name of your +family; and they have a right to expect that you will not degrade it--” + +“I want a plain answer,” he interposed sternly. “Which is it? Yes, or +No?” + +She looked at him with sad compassionate eyes. Her voice was firm as she +answered him in one word as he had desired. The word was-- + +“No.” + +Without speaking to her, without even looking at her, he turned and +walked back to the cottage. + +Making his way silently through the group of visitors--every one of whom +had been informed of what had happened by his sister--with his head down +and his lips fast closed, he entered the parlor and rang the bell which +communicated with his foreman’s rooms at the stables. + +“You know that I am going abroad on business?” he said, when the man +appeared. + +“Yes, sir.” + +“I am going to-day--going by the night train to Dover. Order the horse +to be put to instantly in the dogcart. Is there anything wanted before I +am off?” + +The inexorable necessities of business asserted their claims through +the obedient medium of the foreman. Chafing at the delay, Hardyman was +obliged to sit at his desk, signing checks and passing accounts, with +the dogcart waiting in the stable yard. + +A knock at the door startled him in the middle of his work. “Come in,” + he called out sharply. + +He looked up, expecting to see one of the guests or one of the servants. +It was Moody who entered the room. Hardyman laid down his pen, and fixed +his eyes sternly on the man who had dared to interrupt him. + +“What the devil do _you_ want?” he asked. + +“I have seen Miss Isabel, and spoken with her,” Moody replied. “Mr. +Hardyman, I believe it is in your power to set this matter right. For +the young lady’s sake, sir, you must not leave England without doing +it.” + +Hardyman turned to his foreman. “Is this fellow mad or drunk?” he asked. + +Moody proceeded as calmly and as resolutely as if those words had not +been spoken. “I apologize for my intrusion, sir. I will trouble you with +no explanations. I will only ask one question. Have you a memorandum of +the number of that five-hundred pound note you paid away in France?” + +Hardyman lost all control over himself. + +“You scoundrel!” he cried, “have you been prying into my private +affairs? Is it _your_ business to know what I did in France?” + +“Is it _your_ vengeance on a woman to refuse to tell her the number of a +bank-note?” Moody rejoined, firmly. + +That answer forced its way, through Hardyman’s anger, to Hardyman’s +sense of honor. He rose and advanced to Moody. For a moment the two men +faced each other in silence. “You’re a bold fellow,” said Hardyman, with +a sudden change from anger to irony. “I’ll do the lady justice. I’ll +look at my pocketbook.” + +He put his hand into the breast-pocket of his coat; he searched his +other pockets; he turned over the objects on his writing-table. The book +was gone. + +Moody watched him with a feeling of despair. “Oh! Mr. Hardyman, don’t +say you have lost your pocketbook!” + +He sat down again at his desk, with sullen submission to the new +disaster. “All I can say is you’re at liberty to look for it,” he +replied. “I must have dropped it somewhere.” He turned impatiently to +the foreman, “Now then! What is the next check wanted? I shall go mad if +I wait in this damned place much longer!” + +Moody left him, and found his way to the servants’ offices. “Mr. +Hardyman has lost his pocketbook,” he said. “Look for it, indoors and +out--on the lawn, and in the tent. Ten pounds reward for the man who +finds it!” + +Servants and waiters instantly dispersed, eager for the promised reward. +The men who pursued the search outside the cottage divided their forces. +Some of them examined the lawn and the flower-beds. Others went straight +to the empty tent. These last were too completely absorbed in pursuing +the object in view to notice that they disturbed a dog, eating a stolen +lunch of his own from the morsels left on the plates. The dog slunk away +under the canvas when the men came in, waited in hiding until they had +gone, then returned to the tent, and went on with his luncheon. + +Moody hastened back to the part of the grounds (close to the shrubbery) +in which Isabel was waiting his return. + +She looked at him, while he was telling her of his interview with +Hardyman, with an expression in her eyes which he had never seen in them +before--an expression which set his heart beating wildly, and made him +break off in his narrative before he had reached the end. + +“I understand,” she said quietly, as he stopped in confusion. “You have +made one more sacrifice to my welfare. Robert! I believe you are the +noblest man that ever breathed the breath of life!” + +His eyes sank before hers; he blushed like a boy. “I have done nothing +for you yet,” he said. “Don’t despair of the future, if the pocketbook +should not be found. I know who the man is who received the bank note; +and I have only to find him to decide the question whether it _is_ the +stolen note or not.” + +She smiled sadly as his enthusiasm. “Are you going back to Mr. Sharon to +help you?” she asked. “That trick he played me has destroyed _my_ belief +in him. He no more knows than I do who the thief really is.” + +“You are mistaken, Isabel. He knows--and I know.” He stopped there, and +made a sign to her to be silent. One of the servants was approaching +them. + +“Is the pocketbook found?” Moody asked. + +“No, sir.” + +“Has Mr. Hardyman left the cottage?” + +“He has just gone, sir. Have you any further instructions to give us?” + +“No. There is my address in London, if the pocketbook should be found.” + +The man took the card that was handed to him and retired. Moody offered +his arm to Isabel. “I am at your service,” he said, “when you wish to +return to your aunt.” + +They had advanced nearly as far as the tent, on their way out of the +grounds, when they were met by a gentleman walking towards them from the +cottage. He was a stranger to Isabel. Moody immediately recognized him +as Mr. Felix Sweetsir. + +“Ha! our good Moody!” cried Felix. “Enviable man! you look younger than +ever.” He took off his hat to Isabel; his bright restless eyes suddenly +became quiet as they rested on her. “Have I the honor of addressing +the future Mrs. Hardyman? May I offer my best congratulations? What has +become of our friend Alfred?” + +Moody answered for Isabel. “If you will make inquiries at the cottage, +sir,” he said, “you will find that you are mistaken, to say the least of +it, in addressing your questions to this young lady.” + +Felix took off his hat again--with the most becoming appearance of +surprise and distress. + +“Something wrong, I fear?” he said, addressing Isabel. “I am, indeed, +ashamed if I have ignorantly given you a moment’s pain. Pray accept +my most sincere apologies. I have only this instant arrived; my health +would not allow me to be present at the luncheon. Permit me to express +the earnest hope that matters may be set right to the satisfaction of +all parties. Good-afternoon!” + +He bowed with elaborate courtesy, and turned back to the cottage. + +“Who is that?” Isabel asked. + +“Lady Lydiard’s nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir,” Moody answered, with +a sudden sternness of tone, and a sudden coldness of manner, which +surprised Isabel. + +“You don’t like him?” she said. + +As she spoke, Felix stopped to give audience to one of the grooms, who +had apparently been sent with a message to him. He turned so that +his face was once more visible to Isabel. Moody pressed her hand +significantly as it rested on his arm. + +“Look well at that man,” he whispered. “It’s time to warn you. Mr. Felix +Sweetsir is the worst enemy you have!” + +Isabel heard him in speechless astonishment. He went on in tones that +trembled with suppressed emotion. + +“You doubt if Sharon knows the thief. You doubt if I know the thief. +Isabel! as certainly as the heaven is above us, there stands the wretch +who stole the bank-note!” + +She drew her hand out of his arm with a cry of terror. She looked at him +as if she doubted whether he was in his right mind. + +He took her hand, and waited a moment trying to compose himself. + +“Listen to me,” he said. “At the first consultation I had with Sharon he +gave this advice to Mr. Troy and to me. He said, ‘Suspect the very last +person on whom suspicion could possibly fall.’ Those words, taken with +the questions he had asked before he pronounced his opinion, struck +through me as if he had struck me with a knife. I instantly suspected +Lady Lydiard’s nephew. Wait! From that time to this I have said nothing +of my suspicion to any living soul. I knew in my own heart that it +took its rise in the inveterate dislike that I have always felt for Mr. +Sweetsir, and I distrusted it accordingly. But I went back to Sharon, +for all that, and put the case into his hands. His investigations +informed me that Mr. Sweetsir owed ‘debts of honor’ (as gentlemen call +them), incurred through lost bets, to a large number of persons, and +among them a bet of five hundred pounds lost to Mr. Hardyman. Further +inquiries showed that Mr. Hardyman had taken the lead in declaring that +he would post Mr. Sweetsir as a defaulter, and have him turned out of +his clubs, and turned out of the betting-ring. Ruin stared him in the +face if he failed to pay his debt to Mr. Hardyman on the last day left +to him--the day after the note was lost. On that very morning, Lady +Lydiard, speaking to me of her nephew’s visit to her, said, ‘If I had +given him an opportunity of speaking, Felix would have borrowed money +of me; I saw it in his face.’ One moment more, Isabel. I am not only +certain that Mr. Sweetsir took the five-hundred pound note out of the +open letter, I am firmly persuaded that he is the man who told Lord +Rotherfield of the circumstances under which you left Lady Lydiard’s +house. Your marriage to Mr. Hardyman might have put you in a position to +detect the theft. You, not I, might, in that case, have discovered from +your husband that the stolen note was the note with which Mr. Sweetsir +paid his debt. He came here, you may depend on it, to make sure that he +had succeeded in destroying your prospects. A more depraved villain at +heart than that man never swung from a gallows!” + +He checked himself at those words. The shock of the disclosure, the +passion and vehemence with which he spoke, overwhelmed Isabel. She +trembled like a frightened child. + +While he was still trying to soothe and reassure her, a low whining +made itself heard at her feet. They looked down, and saw Tommie. Finding +himself noticed at last, he expressed his sense of relief by a bark. +Something dropped out of his mouth. As Moody stooped to pick it up, the +dog ran to Isabel and pushed his head against her feet, as his way was +when he expected to have the handkerchief thrown over him, preparatory +to one of those games at hide-and-seek which have been already +mentioned. Isabel put out her hand to caress him, when she was stopped +by a cry from Moody. It was _his_ turn to tremble now. His voice +faltered as he said the words, “The dog has found the pocketbook!” + +He opened the book with shaking hands. A betting-book was bound up in +it, with the customary calendar. He turned to the date of the day after +the robbery. + +There was the entry: “Felix Sweetsir. Paid 500 pounds. Note numbered, N +8, 70564; dated 15th May, 1875.” + +Moody took from his waistcoat pocket his own memorandum of the number +of the lost bank-note. “Read it Isabel,” he said. “I won’t trust my +memory.” + +She read it. The number and date of the note entered in the pocketbook +exactly corresponded with the number and date of the note that Lady +Lydiard had placed in her letter. + +Moody handed the pocketbook to Isabel. “There is the proof of your +innocence,” he said, “thanks to the dog! Will you write and tell Mr. +Hardyman what has happened?” he asked, with his head down and his eyes +on the ground. + +She answered him, with the bright color suddenly flowing over her face. + +“_You_ shall write to him,” she said, “when the time comes.” + +“What time?” he asked. + +She threw her arms round his neck, and hid her face on his bosom. + +“The time,” she whispered, “when I am your wife.” + +A low growl from Tommie reminded them that he too had some claim to be +noticed. + +Isabel dropped on her knees, and saluted her old playfellow with +the heartiest kisses she had ever given him since the day when their +acquaintance began. “You darling!” she said, as she put him down again, +“what can I do to reward you?” + +Tommie rolled over on his back--more slowly than usual, in consequence +of his luncheon in the tent. He elevated his four paws in the air and +looked lazily at Isabel out of his bright brown eyes. If ever a dog’s +look spoke yet, Tommie’s look said, “I have eaten too much; rub my +stomach.” + + + + +POSTSCRIPT. + +Persons of a speculative turn of mind are informed that the following +document is for sale, and are requested to mention what sum they will +give for it. + +“IOU, Lady Lydiard, five hundred pounds (L500), Felix Sweetsir.” + +Her Ladyship became possessed of this pecuniary remittance under +circumstances which surround it with a halo of romantic interest. It was +the last communication she was destined to receive from her accomplished +nephew. There was a Note attached to it, which cannot fail to enhance +its value in the estimation of all right-minded persons who assist the +circulation of paper money. + +The lines that follow are strictly confidential: + +“Note.--Our excellent Moody informs me, my dear aunt, that you have +decided (against his advice) on ‘refusing to prosecute.’ I have not +the slightest idea of what he means; but I am very much obliged to +him, nevertheless, for reminding me of a circumstance which is of some +interest to yourself personally. + +“I am on the point of retiring to the Continent in search of health. +One generally forgets something important when one starts on a journey. +Before Moody called, I had entirely forgotten to mention that I had the +pleasure of borrowing five hundred pounds of you some little time since. + +“On the occasion to which I refer, your language and manner suggested +that you would not lend me the money if I asked for it. Obviously, the +only course left was to take it without asking. I took it while Moody +was gone to get some curacoa; and I returned to the picture-gallery in +time to receive that delicious liqueur from the footman’s hands. + +“You will naturally ask why I found it necessary to supply myself (if I +may borrow an expression from the language of State finance) with this +‘forced loan.’ I was actuated by motives which I think do me honor. My +position at the time was critical in the extreme. My credit with the +money-lenders was at an end; my friends had all turned their backs on +me. I must either take the money or disgrace my family. If there is a +man living who is sincerely attached to his family, I am that man. I +took the money. + +“Conceive your position as my aunt (I say nothing of myself), if I had +adopted the other alternative. Turned out of the Jockey Club, turned +out of Tattersalls’, turned out of the betting-ring; in short, posted +publicly as a defaulter before the noblest institution in England, the +Turf--and all for want of five hundred pounds to stop the mouth of +the greatest brute I know of, Alfred Hardyman! Let me not harrow your +feelings (and mine) by dwelling on it. Dear and admirable woman! To +you belongs the honor of saving the credit of the family; I can claim +nothing but the inferior merit of having offered you the opportunity. + +“My IOU, it is needless to say, accompanies these lines. Can I do +anything for you abroad?--F. S.” + + +To this it is only necessary to add (first) that Moody was perfectly +right in believing F. S. to be the person who informed Hardyman’s father +of Isabel’s position when she left Lady Lydiard’s house; and (secondly) +that Felix did really forward Mr. Troy’s narrative of the theft to +the French police, altering nothing in it but the number of the lost +bank-note. + + +What is there left to write about? Nothing is left--but to say good-by +(very sorrowfully on the writer’s part) to the Persons of the Story. + +Good-by to Miss Pink--who will regret to her dying day that Isabel’s +answer to Hardyman was No. + +Good-by to Lady Lydiard--who differs with Miss Pink, and would have +regretted it, to _her_ dying day, if the answer had been Yes. + +Good-by to Moody and Isabel--whose history has closed with the closing +of the clergyman’s book on their wedding-day. + +Good-by to Hardyman--who has sold his farm and his horses, and has begun +a new life among the famous fast trotters of America. + +Good-by to Old Sharon--who, a martyr to his promise, brushed his hair +and washed his face in honor of Moody’s marriage; and catching a +severe cold as the necessary consequence, declared, in the intervals of +sneezing, that he would “never do it again.” + +And last, not least, good-by to Tommie? No. The writer gave Tommie his +dinner not half an hour since, and is too fond of him to say good-by. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Lady’s Money, by Wilkie Collins + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY LADY’S MONEY *** + +***** This file should be named 1628-0.txt or 1628-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/2/1628/ + +Produced by James Rusk and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: My Lady's Money + +Author: Wilkie Collins + +Release Date: March 21, 2006 [EBook #1628] +Last Updated: September 13, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY LADY'S MONEY *** + + + + +Produced by James Rusk and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + MY LADY’S MONEY<br /><br /> AN EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF A YOUNG GIRL + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + by Wilkie Collins + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART1"> <b>PART THE FIRST.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART2"> <b>PART THE SECOND.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> POSTSCRIPT. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + PERSONS OF THE STORY + </h3> + <p> + Women: + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard (Widow of Lord Lydiard) + </p> + <p> + Isabel Miller (her Adopted Daughter) + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink (of South Morden) + </p> + <p> + The Hon. Mrs. Drumblade (Sister to the Hon. A. Hardyman) + </p> + <p> + Men + </p> + <p> + The Hon. Alfred Hardyman (of the Stud Farm) + </p> + <p> + Mr. Felix Sweetsir (Lady Lydiard’s Nephew) + </p> + <p> + Robert Moody (Lady Lydiard’s Steward) + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy (Lady Lydiard’s Lawyer) + </p> + <p> + Old Sharon (in the Byways of Legal Bohemia) + </p> + <p> + Animal + </p> + <p> + Tommie (Lady Lydiard’s Dog) + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART1" id="link2H_PART1"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART THE FIRST. + </h2> + <h3> + THE DISAPPEARANCE. + </h3> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + OLD Lady Lydiard sat meditating by the fireside, with three letters lying + open on her lap. + </p> + <p> + Time had discolored the paper, and had turned the ink to a brownish hue. + The letters were all addressed to the same person—“THE RT. HON. LORD + LYDIARD”—and were all signed in the same way—“Your + affectionate cousin, James Tollmidge.” Judged by these specimens of his + correspondence, Mr. Tollmidge must have possessed one great merit as a + letter-writer—the merit of brevity. He will weary nobody’s patience, + if he is allowed to have a hearing. Let him, therefore, be permitted, in + his own high-flown way, to speak for himself. + </p> + <p> + <i>First Letter.</i>—“My statement, as your Lordship requests, shall + be short and to the point. I was doing very well as a portrait-painter in + the country; and I had a wife and children to consider. Under the + circumstances, if I had been left to decide for myself, I should certainly + have waited until I had saved a little money before I ventured on the + serious expense of taking a house and studio at the west end of London. + Your Lordship, I positively declare, encouraged me to try the experiment + without waiting. And here I am, unknown and unemployed, a helpless artist + lost in London—with a sick wife and hungry children, and bankruptcy + staring me in the face. On whose shoulders does this dreadful + responsibility rest? On your Lordship’s!” + </p> + <p> + <i>Second Letter.</i>—“After a week’s delay, you favor me, my Lord, + with a curt reply. I can be equally curt on my side. I indignantly deny + that I or my wife ever presumed to see your Lordship’s name as a means of + recommendation to sitters without your permission. Some enemy has + slandered us. I claim as my right to know the name of that enemy.” + </p> + <p> + <i>Third (and last) Letter.</i>—“Another week has passed—and + not a word of answer has reached me from your Lordship. It matters little. + I have employed the interval in making inquiries, and I have at last + discovered the hostile influence which has estranged you from me. I have + been, it seems, so unfortunate as to offend Lady Lydiard (how, I cannot + imagine); and the all-powerful influence of this noble lady is now used + against the struggling artist who is united to you by the sacred ties of + kindred. Be it so. I can fight my way upwards, my Lord, as other men have + done before me. A day may yet come when the throng of carriages waiting at + the door of the fashionable portrait-painter will include her Ladyship’s + vehicle, and bring me the tardy expression of her Ladyship’s regret. I + refer you, my Lord Lydiard, to that day!” + </p> + <p> + Having read Mr. Tollmidge’s formidable assertions relating to herself for + the second time, Lady Lydiard’s meditations came to an abrupt end. She + rose, took the letters in both hands to tear them up, hesitated, and threw + them back in the cabinet drawer in which she had discovered them, among + other papers that had not been arranged since Lord Lydiard’s death. + </p> + <p> + “The idiot!” said her Ladyship, thinking of Mr. Tollmidge, “I never even + heard of him, in my husband’s lifetime; I never even knew that he was + really related to Lord Lydiard, till I found his letters. What is to be + done next?” + </p> + <p> + She looked, as she put that question to herself, at an open newspaper + thrown on the table, which announced the death of “that accomplished + artist Mr. Tollmidge, related, it is said, to the late well-known + connoisseur, Lord Lydiard.” In the next sentence the writer of the + obituary notice deplored the destitute condition of Mrs. Tollmidge and her + children, “thrown helpless on the mercy of the world.” Lady Lydiard stood + by the table with her eyes on those lines, and saw but too plainly the + direction in which they pointed—the direction of her check-book. + </p> + <p> + Turning towards the fireplace, she rang the bell. “I can do nothing in + this matter,” she thought to herself, “until I know whether the report + about Mrs. Tollmidge and her family is to be depended on. Has Moody come + back?” she asked, when the servant appeared at the door. “Moody” + (otherwise her Ladyship’s steward) had not come back. Lady Lydiard + dismissed the subject of the artist’s widow from further consideration + until the steward returned, and gave her mind to a question of domestic + interest which lay nearer to her heart. Her favorite dog had been ailing + for some time past, and no report of him had reached her that morning. She + opened a door near the fireplace, which led, through a little corridor + hung with rare prints, to her own boudoir. “Isabel!” she called out, “how + is Tommie?” + </p> + <p> + A fresh young voice answered from behind the curtain which closed the + further end of the corridor, “No better, my Lady.” + </p> + <p> + A low growl followed the fresh young voice, and added (in dog’s language), + “Much worse, my Lady—much worse!” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard closed the door again, with a compassionate sigh for Tommie, + and walked slowly to and fro in her spacious drawing-room, waiting for the + steward’s return. + </p> + <p> + Accurately described, Lord Lydiard’s widow was short and fat, and, in the + matter of age, perilously near her sixtieth birthday. But it may be said, + without paying a compliment, that she looked younger than her age by ten + years at least. Her complexion was of that delicate pink tinge which is + sometimes seen in old women with well-preserved constitutions. Her eyes + (equally well preserved) were of that hard light blue color which wears + well, and does not wash out when tried by the test of tears. Add to this + her short nose, her plump cheeks that set wrinkles at defiance, her white + hair dressed in stiff little curls; and, if a doll could grow old, Lady + Lydiard, at sixty, would have been the living image of that doll, taking + life easily on its journey downwards to the prettiest of tombs, in a + burial-ground where the myrtles and roses grew all the year round. + </p> + <p> + These being her Ladyship’s personal merits, impartial history must + acknowledge, on the list of her defects, a total want of tact and taste in + her attire. The lapse of time since Lord Lydiard’s death had left her at + liberty to dress as she pleased. She arrayed her short, clumsy figure in + colors that were far too bright for a woman of her age. Her dresses, + badly chosen as to their hues, were perhaps not badly made, but were + certainly badly worn. Morally, as well as physically, it must be said of + Lady Lydiard that her outward side was her worst side. The anomalies of + her dress were matched by the anomalies of her character. There were + moments when she felt and spoke as became a lady of rank; and there were + other moments when she felt and spoke as might have become the cook in the + kitchen. Beneath these superficial inconsistencies, the great heart, the + essentially true and generous nature of the woman, only waited the + sufficient occasion to assert themselves. In the trivial intercourse of + society she was open to ridicule on every side of her. But when a serious + emergency tried the metal of which she was really made, the people who + were loudest in laughing at her stood aghast, and wondered what had become + of the familiar companion of their everyday lives. + </p> + <p> + Her Ladyship’s promenade had lasted but a little while, when a man in + black clothing presented himself noiselessly at the great door which + opened on the staircase. Lady Lydiard signed to him impatiently to enter + the room. + </p> + <p> + “I have been expecting you for some time, Moody,” she said. “You look + tired. Take a chair.” + </p> + <p> + The man in black bowed respectfully, and took his seat. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + ROBERT MOODY was at this time nearly forty years of age. He was a shy, + quiet, dark person, with a pale, closely-shaven face, agreeably animated + by large black eyes, set deep in their orbits. His mouth was perhaps his + best feature; he had firm, well-shaped lips, which softened on rare + occasions into a particularly winning smile. The whole look of the man, in + spite of his habitual reserve, declared him to be eminently trustworthy. + His position in Lady Lydiard’s household was in no sense of the menial + sort. He acted as her almoner and secretary as well as her steward—distributed + her charities, wrote her letters on business, paid her bills, engaged her + servants, stocked her wine-cellar, was authorized to borrow books from her + library, and was served with his meals in his own room. His parentage gave + him claims to these special favors; he was by birth entitled to rank as a + gentleman. His father had failed at a time of commercial panic as a + country banker, had paid a good dividend, and had died in exile abroad a + broken-hearted man. Robert had tried to hold his place in the world, but + adverse fortune kept him down. Undeserved disaster followed him from one + employment to another, until he abandoned the struggle, bade a last + farewell to the pride of other days, and accepted the position + considerately and delicately offered to him in Lady Lydiard’s house. He + had now no near relations living, and he had never made many friends. In + the intervals of occupation he led a lonely life in his little room. It + was a matter of secret wonder among the women in the servants’ hall, + considering his personal advantages and the opportunities which must + surely have been thrown in his way, that he had never tempted fortune in + the character of a married man. Robert Moody entered into no explanations + on that subject. In his own sad and quiet way he continued to lead his own + sad and quiet life. The women all failing, from the handsome housekeeper + downward, to make the smallest impression on him, consoled themselves by + prophetic visions of his future relations with the sex, and predicted + vindictively that “his time would come.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Lady Lydiard, “and what have you done?” + </p> + <p> + “Your Ladyship seemed to be anxious about the dog,” Moody answered, in the + low tone which was habitual to him. “I went first to the veterinary + surgeon. He had been called away into the country; and—” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard waved away the conclusion of the sentence with her hand. + “Never mind the surgeon. We must find somebody else. Where did you go + next?” + </p> + <p> + “To your Ladyship’s lawyer. Mr. Troy wished me to say that he will have + the honor of waiting on you—” + </p> + <p> + “Pass over the lawyer, Moody. I want to know about the painter’s widow. Is + it true that Mrs. Tollmidge and her family are left in helpless poverty?” + </p> + <p> + “Not quite true, my Lady. I have seen the clergyman of the parish, who + takes an interest in the case—” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard interrupted her steward for the third time. “Did you mention + my name?” she asked sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not, my Lady. I followed my instructions, and described you as + a benevolent person in search of cases of real distress. It is quite true + that Mr. Tollmidge has died, leaving nothing to his family. But the widow + has a little income of seventy pounds in her own right.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that enough to live on, Moody?” her Ladyship asked. + </p> + <p> + “Enough, in this case, for the widow and her daughter,” Moody answered. + “The difficulty is to pay the few debts left standing, and to start the + two sons in life. They are reported to be steady lads; and the family is + much respected in the neighborhood. The clergyman proposes to get a few + influential names to begin with, and to start a subscription.” + </p> + <p> + “No subscription!” protested Lady Lydiard. “Mr. Tollmidge was Lord + Lydiard’s cousin; and Mrs. Tollmidge is related to his Lordship by + marriage. It would be degrading to my husband’s memory to have the + begging-box sent round for his relations, no matter how distant they may + be. Cousins!” exclaimed her Ladyship, suddenly descending from the lofty + ranges of sentiment to the low. “I hate the very name of them! A person + who is near enough to me to be my relation and far enough off from me to + be my sweetheart, is a double-faced sort of person that I don’t like. + Let’s get back to the widow and her sons. How much do they want?” + </p> + <p> + “A subscription of five hundred pounds, my Lady, would provide for + everything—if it could only be collected.” + </p> + <p> + “It <i>shall</i> be collected, Moody! I will pay the subscription out of + my own purse.” Having asserted herself in those noble terms, she spoilt + the effect of her own outburst of generosity by dropping to the sordid + view of the subject in her next sentence. “Five hundred pounds is a good + bit of money, though; isn’t it, Moody?” + </p> + <p> + “It is, indeed, my Lady.” Rich and generous as he knew his mistress to be, + her proposal to pay the whole subscription took the steward by surprise. + Lady Lydiard’s quick perception instantly detected what was passing in his + mind. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t quite understand my position in this matter,” she said. “When I + read the newspaper notice of Mr. Tollmidge’s death, I searched among his + Lordship’s papers to see if they really were related. I discovered some + letters from Mr. Tollmidge, which showed me that he and Lord Lydiard were + cousins. One of those letters contains some very painful statements, + reflecting most untruly and unjustly on my conduct; lies, in short,” her + Ladyship burst out, losing her dignity, as usual. “Lies, Moody, for which + Mr. Tollmidge deserved to be horsewhipped. I would have done it myself if + his Lordship had told me at the time. No matter; it’s useless to dwell on + the thing now,” she continued, ascending again to the forms of expression + which became a lady of rank. “This unhappy man has done me a gross + injustice; my motives may be seriously misjudged, if I appear personally + in communicating with his family. If I relieve them anonymously in their + present trouble, I spare them the exposure of a public subscription, and I + do what I believe his Lordship would have done himself if he had lived. My + desk is on the other table. Bring it here, Moody; and let me return good + for evil, while I’m in the humor for it!” + </p> + <p> + Moody obeyed in silence. Lady Lydiard wrote a check. + </p> + <p> + “Take that to the banker’s, and bring back a five-hundred pound note,” she + said. “I’ll inclose it to the clergyman as coming from ‘an unknown + friend.’ And be quick about it. I am only a fallible mortal, Moody. Don’t + leave me time enough to take the stingy view of five hundred pounds.” + </p> + <p> + Moody went out with the check. No delay was to be apprehended in obtaining + the money; the banking-house was hard by, in St. James’s Street. Left + alone, Lady Lydiard decided on occupying her mind in the generous + direction by composing her anonymous letter to the clergyman. She had just + taken a sheet of note-paper from her desk, when a servant appeared at the + door announcing a visitor— + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Felix Sweetsir!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + “MY nephew!” Lady Lydiard exclaimed in a tone which expressed + astonishment, but certainly not pleasure as well. “How many years is it + since you and I last met?” she asked, in her abruptly straightforward way, + as Mr. Felix Sweetsir approached her writing-table. + </p> + <p> + The visitor was not a person easily discouraged. He took Lady Lydiard’s + hand, and kissed it with easy grace. A shade of irony was in his manner, + agreeably relieved by a playful flash of tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “Years, my dear aunt?” he said. “Look in your glass and you will see that + time has stood still since we met last. How wonderfully well you wear! + When shall we celebrate the appearance of your first wrinkle? I am too + old; I shall never live to see it.” + </p> + <p> + He took an easychair, uninvited; placed himself close at his aunt’s side, + and ran his eye over her ill-chosen dress with an air of satirical + admiration. “How perfectly successful!” he said, with his well-bred + insolence. “What a chaste gayety of color!” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” asked her Ladyship, not in the least softened by the + compliment. + </p> + <p> + “I want to pay my respects to my dear aunt,” Felix answered, perfectly + impenetrable to his ungracious reception, and perfectly comfortable in a + spacious arm-chair. + </p> + <p> + No pen-and-ink portrait need surely be drawn of Felix Sweetsir—he is + too well-known a picture in society. The little lithe man, with his + bright, restless eyes, and his long iron-gray hair falling in curls to his + shoulders, his airy step and his cordial manner; his uncertain age, his + innumerable accomplishments, and his unbounded popularity—is he not + familiar everywhere, and welcome everywhere? How gratefully he receives, + how prodigally he repays, the cordial appreciation of an admiring world! + Every man he knows is “a charming fellow.” Every woman he sees is “sweetly + pretty.” What picnics he gives on the banks of the Thames in the summer + season! What a well-earned little income he derives from the whist-table! + What an inestimable actor he is at private theatricals of all sorts + (weddings included)! Did you never read Sweetsir’s novel, dashed off in + the intervals of curative perspiration at a German bath? Then you don’t + know what brilliant fiction really is. He has never written a second work; + he does everything, and only does it once. One song—the despair of + professional composers. One picture—just to show how easily a + gentleman can take up an art and drop it again. A really multiform man, + with all the graces and all the accomplishments scintillating perpetually + at his fingers’ ends. If these poor pages have achieved nothing else, they + have done a service to persons not in society by presenting them to + Sweetsir. In his gracious company the narrative brightens; and writer and + reader (catching reflected brilliancy) understand each other at last, + thanks to Sweetsir. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Lady Lydiard, “now you are here, what have you got to say for + yourself? You have been abroad, of course! Where?” + </p> + <p> + “Principally at Paris, my dear aunt. The only place that is fit to live in—for + this excellent reason, that the French are the only people who know how to + make the most of life. One has relations and friends in England and every + now and then one returns to London—” + </p> + <p> + “When one has spent all one’s money in Paris,” her Ladyship interposed. + “That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + Felix submitted to the interruption with his delightful good-humor. + </p> + <p> + “What a bright creature you are!” he exclaimed. “What would I not give for + your flow of spirits! Yes—one does spend money in Paris, as you say. + The clubs, the stock exchange, the race-course: you try your luck here, + there, and everywhere; and you lose and win, win and lose—and you + haven’t a dull day to complain of.” He paused, his smile died away, he + looked inquiringly at Lady Lydiard. “What a wonderful existence yours must + be,” he resumed. “The everlasting question with your needy + fellow-creatures, ‘Where am I to get money?’ is a question that has never + passed your lips. Enviable woman!” He paused once more—surprised and + puzzled this time. “What is the matter, my dear aunt? You seem to be + suffering under some uneasiness.” + </p> + <p> + “I am suffering under your conversation,” her Ladyship answered sharply. + “Money is a sore subject with me just now,” she went on, with her eyes on + her nephew, watching the effect of what she said. “I have spent five + hundred pounds this morning with a scrape of my pen. And, only a week + since, I yielded to temptation and made an addition to my + picture-gallery.” She looked, as she said those words, towards an archway + at the further end of the room, closed by curtains of purple velvet. “I + really tremble when I think of what that one picture cost me before I + could call it mine. A landscape by Hobbema; and the National Gallery + bidding against me. Never mind!” she concluded, consoling herself, as + usual, with considerations that were beneath her. “Hobbema will sell at my + death for a bigger price than I gave for him—that’s one comfort!” + She looked again at Felix; a smile of mischievous satisfaction began to + show itself in her face. “Anything wrong with your watch-chain?” she + asked. + </p> + <p> + Felix, absently playing with his watch-chain, started as if his aunt had + suddenly awakened him. While Lady Lydiard had been speaking, his vivacity + had subsided little by little, and had left him looking so serious and so + old that his most intimate friend would hardly have known him again. + Roused by the sudden question that had been put to him, he seemed to be + casting about in his mind in search of the first excuse for his silence + that might turn up. + </p> + <p> + “I was wondering,” he began, “why I miss something when I look round this + beautiful room; something familiar, you know, that I fully expected to + find here.” + </p> + <p> + “Tommie?” suggested Lady Lydiard, still watching her nephew as maliciously + as ever. + </p> + <p> + “That’s it!” cried Felix, seizing his excuse, and rallying his spirits. + “Why don’t I hear Tommie snarling behind me; why don’t I feel Tommie’s + teeth in my trousers?” + </p> + <p> + The smile vanished from Lady Lydiard’s face; the tone taken by her nephew + in speaking of her dog was disrespectful in the extreme. She showed him + plainly that she disapproved of it. Felix went on, nevertheless, + impenetrable to reproof of the silent sort. “Dear little Tommie! So + delightfully fat; and such an infernal temper! I don’t know whether I hate + him or love him. Where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Ill in bed,” answered her ladyship, with a gravity which startled even + Felix himself. “I wish to speak to you about Tommie. You know everybody. + Do you know of a good dog-doctor? The person I have employed so far + doesn’t at all satisfy me.” + </p> + <p> + “Professional person?” inquired Felix. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “All humbugs, my dear aunt. The worse the dog gets the bigger the bill + grows, don’t you see? I have got the man for you—a gentleman. Knows + more about horses and dogs than all the veterinary surgeons put together. + We met in the boat yesterday crossing the Channel. You know him by name, + of course? Lord Rotherfield’s youngest son, Alfred Hardyman.” + </p> + <p> + “The owner of the stud farm? The man who has bred the famous racehorses?” + cried Lady Lydiard. “My dear Felix, how can I presume to trouble such a + great personage about my dog?” + </p> + <p> + Felix burst into his genial laugh. “Never was modesty more woefully out of + place,” he rejoined. “Hardyman is dying to be presented to your Ladyship. + He has heard, like everybody, of the magnificent decorations of this + house, and he is longing to see them. His chambers are close by, in Pall + Mall. If he is at home we will have him here in five minutes. Perhaps I + had better see the dog first?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard shook her head. “Isabel says he had better not be disturbed,” + she answered. “Isabel understands him better than anybody.” + </p> + <p> + Felix lifted his lively eyebrows with a mixed expression of curiosity and + surprise. “Who is Isabel?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard was vexed with herself for carelessly mentioning Isabel’s + name in her nephew’s presence. Felix was not the sort of person whom she + was desirous of admitting to her confidence in domestic matters. “Isabel + is an addition to my household since you were here last,” she answered + shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Young and pretty?” inquired Felix. “Ah! you look serious, and you don’t + answer me. Young and pretty, evidently. Which may I see first, the + addition to your household or the addition to your picture-gallery? You + look at the picture-gallery—I am answered again.” He rose to + approach the archway, and stopped at his first step forward. “A sweet girl + is a dreadful responsibility, aunt,” he resumed, with an ironical + assumption of gravity. “Do you know, I shouldn’t be surprised if Isabel, + in the long run, cost you more than Hobbema. Who is this at the door?” + </p> + <p> + The person at the door was Robert Moody, returned from the bank. Mr. Felix + Sweetsir, being near-sighted, was obliged to fit his eye-glass in position + before he could recognize the prime minister of Lady Lydiard’s household. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! our worthy Moody. How well he wears! Not a gray hair on his head—and + look at mine! What dye do you use, Moody? If he had my open disposition he + would tell. As it is, he looks unutterable things, and holds his tongue. + Ah! if I could only have held <i>my</i> tongue—when I was in the + diplomatic service, you know—what a position I might have occupied + by this time! Don’t let me interrupt you, Moody, if you have anything to + say to Lady Lydiard.” + </p> + <p> + Having acknowledged Mr. Sweetsir’s lively greeting by a formal bow, and a + grave look of wonder which respectfully repelled that vivacious + gentleman’s flow of humor, Moody turned towards his mistress. + </p> + <p> + “Have you got the bank-note?” asked her Ladyship. + </p> + <p> + Moody laid the bank-note on the table. + </p> + <p> + “Am I in the way?” inquired Felix. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said his aunt. “I have a letter to write; it won’t occupy me for + more than a few minutes. You can stay here, or go and look at the Hobbema, + which you please.” + </p> + <p> + Felix made a second sauntering attempt to reach the picture-gallery. + Arrived within a few steps of the entrance, he stopped again, attracted by + an open cabinet of Italian workmanship, filled with rare old china. Being + nothing if not a cultivated amateur, Mr. Sweetsir paused to pay his + passing tribute of admiration before the contents of the cabinet. + “Charming! charming!” he said to himself, with his head twisted + appreciatively a little on one side. Lady Lydiard and Moody left him in + undisturbed enjoyment of the china, and went on with the business of the + bank-note. + </p> + <p> + “Ought we to take the number of the note, in case of accident?” asked her + Ladyship. + </p> + <p> + Moody produced a slip of paper from his waistcoat pocket. “I took the + number, my Lady, at the bank.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. You keep it. While I am writing my letter, suppose you direct + the envelope. What is the clergyman’s name?” + </p> + <p> + Moody mentioned the name and directed the envelope. Felix, happening to + look round at Lady Lydiard and the steward while they were both engaged in + writing, returned suddenly to the table as if he had been struck by a new + idea. + </p> + <p> + “Is there a third pen?” he asked. “Why shouldn’t I write a line at once to + Hardyman, aunt? The sooner you have his opinion about Tommie the better—don’t + you think so?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard pointed to the pen tray, with a smile. To show consideration + for her dog was to seize irresistibly on the high-road to her favor. Felix + set to work on his letter, in a large scrambling handwriting, with plenty + of ink and a noisy pen. “I declare we are like clerks in an office,” he + remarked, in his cheery way. “All with our noses to the paper, writing as + if we lived by it! Here, Moody, let one of the servants take this at once + to Mr. Hardyman’s.” + </p> + <p> + The messenger was despatched. Robert returned, and waited near his + mistress, with the directed envelope in his hand. Felix sauntered back + slowly towards the picture-gallery, for the third time. In a moment more + Lady Lydiard finished her letter, and folded up the bank-note in it. She + had just taken the directed envelope from Moody, and had just placed the + letter inside it, when a scream from the inner room, in which Isabel was + nursing the sick dog, startled everybody. “My Lady! my Lady!” cried the + girl, distractedly, “Tommie is in a fit? Tommie is dying!” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard dropped the unclosed envelope on the table, and ran—yes, + short as she was and fat as she was, ran—into the inner room. The + two men, left together, looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “Moody,” said Felix, in his lazily-cynical way, “do you think if you or I + were in a fit that her Ladyship would run? Bah! these are the things that + shake one’s faith in human nature. I feel infernally seedy. That cursed + Channel passage—I tremble in my inmost stomach when I think of it. + Get me something, Moody.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall I send you, sir?” Moody asked coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Some dry curacoa and a biscuit. And let it be brought to me in the + picture-gallery. Damn the dog! I’ll go and look at Hobbema.” + </p> + <p> + This time he succeeded in reaching the archway, and disappeared behind the + curtains of the picture-gallery. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + LEFT alone in the drawing-room, Moody looked at the unfastened envelope on + the table. + </p> + <p> + Considering the value of the inclosure, might he feel justified in wetting + the gum and securing the envelope for safety’s sake? After thinking it + over, Moody decided that he was not justified in meddling with the letter. + On reflection, her Ladyship might have changes to make in it or might have + a postscript to add to what she had already written. Apart too, from these + considerations, was it reasonable to act as if Lady Lydiard’s house was a + hotel, perpetually open to the intrusion of strangers? Objects worth twice + five hundred pounds in the aggregate were scattered about on the tables + and in the unlocked cabinets all round him. Moody withdrew, without + further hesitation, to order the light restorative prescribed for himself + by Mr. Sweetsir. + </p> + <p> + The footman who took the curacoa into the picture gallery found Felix + recumbent on a sofa, admiring the famous Hobbema. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t interrupt me,” he said peevishly, catching the servant in the act + of staring at him. “Put down the bottle and go!” Forbidden to look at Mr. + Sweetsir, the man’s eyes as he left the gallery turned wonderingly towards + the famous landscape. And what did he see? He saw one towering big cloud + in the sky that threatened rain, two withered mahogany-colored trees + sorely in want of rain, a muddy road greatly the worse for rain, and a + vagabond boy running home who was afraid of the rain. That was the + picture, to the footman’s eye. He took a gloomy view of the state of Mr. + Sweetsir’s brains on his return to the servants’ hall. “A slate loose, + poor devil!” That was the footman’s report of the brilliant Felix. + </p> + <p> + Immediately on the servant’s departure, the silence in the picture-gallery + was broken by voices penetrating into it from the drawing-room. Felix rose + to a sitting position on the sofa. He had recognized the voice of Alfred + Hardyman saying, “Don’t disturb Lady Lydiard,” and the voice of Moody + answering, “I will just knock at the door of her Ladyship’s room, sir; you + will find Mr. Sweetsir in the picture-gallery.” + </p> + <p> + The curtains over the archway parted, and disclosed the figure of a tall + man, with a closely cropped head set a little stiffly on his shoulders. + The immovable gravity of face and manner which every Englishman seems to + acquire who lives constantly in the society of horses, was the gravity + which this gentleman displayed as he entered the picture-gallery. He was a + finely made, sinewy man, with clearly cut, regular features. If he had not + been affected with horses on the brain he would doubtless have been + personally popular with the women. As it was, the serene and hippic gloom + of the handsome horse-breeder daunted the daughters of Eve, and they + failed to make up their minds about the exact value of him, socially + considered. Alfred Hardyman was nevertheless a remarkable man in his way. + He had been offered the customary alternatives submitted to the younger + sons of the nobility—the Church or the diplomatic service—and + had refused the one and the other. “I like horses,” he said, “and I mean + to get my living out of them. Don’t talk to me about my position in the + world. Talk to my eldest brother, who gets the money and the title.” + Starting in life with these sensible views, and with a small capital of + five thousand pounds, Hardyman took his own place in the sphere that was + fitted for him. At the period of this narrative he was already a rich man, + and one of the greatest authorities on horse-breeding in England. His + prosperity made no change in him. He was always the same grave, quiet, + obstinately resolute man—true to the few friends whom he admitted to + his intimacy, and sincere to a fault in the expression of his feelings + among persons whom he distrusted or disliked. As he entered the + picture-gallery and paused for a moment looking at Felix on the sofa, his + large, cold, steady gray eyes rested on the little man with an + indifference that just verged on contempt. Felix, on the other hand, + sprang to his feet with alert politeness and greeted his friend with + exuberant cordiality. + </p> + <p> + “Dear old boy! This is so good of you,” he began. “I feel it—I do + assure you I feel it!” + </p> + <p> + “You needn’t trouble yourself to feel it,” was the quietly-ungracious + answer. “Lady Lydiard brings me here. I come to see the house—and + the dog.” He looked round the gallery in his gravely attentive way. “I + don’t understand pictures,” he remarked resignedly. “I shall go back to + the drawing-room.” + </p> + <p> + After a moment’s consideration, Felix followed him into the drawing-room, + with the air of a man who was determined not to be repelled. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” asked Hardyman. “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “About that matter?” Felix said, inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “What matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you know. Will next week do?” + </p> + <p> + “Next week <i>won’t</i> do.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Felix Sweetsir cast one look at his friend. His friend was too + intently occupied with the decorations of the drawing-room to notice the + look. + </p> + <p> + “Will to-morrow do?” Felix resumed, after an interval. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “At what time?” + </p> + <p> + “Between twelve and one in the afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Between twelve and one in the afternoon,” Felix repeated. He looked again + at Hardyman and took his hat. “Make my apologies to my aunt,” he said. + “You must introduce yourself to her Ladyship. I can’t wait here any + longer.” He walked out of the room, having deliberately returned the + contemptuous indifference of Hardyman by a similar indifference on his own + side, at parting. + </p> + <p> + Left by himself, Hardyman took a chair and glanced at the door which led + into the boudoir. The steward had knocked at that door, had disappeared + through it, and had not appeared again. How much longer was Lady Lydiard’s + visitor to be left unnoticed in Lady Lydiard’s house? + </p> + <p> + As the question passed through his mind the boudoir door opened. For once + in his life, Alfred Hardyman’s composure deserted him. He started to his + feet, like an ordinary mortal taken completely by surprise. + </p> + <p> + Instead of Mr. Moody, instead of Lady Lydiard, there appeared in the open + doorway a young woman in a state of embarrassment, who actually quickened + the beat of Mr. Hardyman’s heart the moment he set eyes on her. Was the + person who produced this amazing impression at first sight a person of + importance? Nothing of the sort. She was only “Isabel” surnamed “Miller.” + Even her name had nothing in it. Only “Isabel Miller!” + </p> + <p> + Had she any pretensions to distinction in virtue of her personal + appearance? + </p> + <p> + It is not easy to answer the question. The women (let us put the worst + judges first) had long since discovered that she wanted that indispensable + elegance of figure which is derived from slimness of waist and length of + limb. The men (who were better acquainted with the subject) looked at her + figure from their point of view; and, finding it essentially embraceable, + asked for nothing more. It might have been her bright complexion or it + might have been the bold luster of her eyes (as the women considered it), + that dazzled the lords of creation generally, and made them all alike + incompetent to discover her faults. Still, she had compensating + attractions which no severity of criticism could dispute. Her smile, + beginning at her lips, flowed brightly and instantly over her whole face. + A delicious atmosphere of health, freshness, and good humor seemed to + radiate from her wherever she went and whatever she did. For the rest her + brown hair grew low over her broad white forehead, and was topped by a + neat little lace cap with ribbons of a violet color. A plain collar and + plain cuffs encircled her smooth, round neck, and her plump dimpled hands. + Her merino dress, covering but not hiding the charming outline of her + bosom, matched the color of the cap-ribbons, and was brightened by a white + muslin apron coquettishly trimmed about the pockets, a gift from Lady + Lydiard. Blushing and smiling, she let the door fall to behind her, and, + shyly approaching the stranger, said to him, in her small, clear voice, + “If you please, sir, are you Mr. Hardyman?” + </p> + <p> + The gravity of the great horse-breeder deserted him at her first question. + He smiled as he acknowledged that he was “Mr. Hardyman”—he smiled as + he offered her a chair. + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you, sir,” she said, with a quaintly pretty inclination of her + head. “I am only sent here to make her Ladyship’s apologies. She has put + the poor dear dog into a warm bath, and she can’t leave him. And Mr. Moody + can’t come instead of me, because I was too frightened to be of any use, + and so he had to hold the dog. That’s all. We are very anxious sir, to + know if the warm bath is the right thing. Please come into the room and + tell us.” + </p> + <p> + She led the way back to the door. Hardyman, naturally enough, was slow to + follow her. When a man is fascinated by the charm of youth and beauty, he + is in no hurry to transfer his attention to a sick animal in a bath. + Hardyman seized on the first excuse that he could devise for keeping + Isabel to himself—that is to say, for keeping her in the + drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + “I think I shall be better able to help you,” he said, “if you will tell + me something about the dog first.” + </p> + <p> + Even his accent in speaking had altered to a certain degree. The quiet, + dreary monotone in which he habitually spoke quickened a little under his + present excitement. As for Isabel, she was too deeply interested in + Tommie’s welfare to suspect that she was being made the victim of a + stratagem. She left the door and returned to Hardyman with eager eyes. + “What can I tell you, sir?” she asked innocently. + </p> + <p> + Hardyman pressed his advantage without mercy. + </p> + <p> + “You can tell me what sort of dog he is?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “How old he is?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “What his name is?—what his temper is?—what his illness is? + what diseases his father and mother had?—what—” + </p> + <p> + Isabel’s head began to turn giddy. “One thing at a time, sir!” she + interposed, with a gesture of entreaty. “The dog sleeps on my bed, and I + had a bad night with him, he disturbed me so, and I am afraid I am very + stupid this morning. His name is Tommie. We are obliged to call him by it, + because he won’t answer to any other than the name he had when my Lady + bought him. But we spell it with an <i>i e</i> at the end, which makes it + less vulgar than Tommy with a <i>y</i>. I am very sorry, sir—I + forget what else you wanted to know. Please to come in here and my Lady + will tell you everything.” + </p> + <p> + She tried to get back to the door of the boudoir. Hardyman, feasting his + eyes on the pretty, changeful face that looked up at him with such + innocent confidence in his authority, drew her away from the door by the + one means at his disposal. He returned to his questions about Tommie. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a little, please. What sort of dog is he?” + </p> + <p> + Isabel turned back again from the door. To describe Tommie was a labor of + love. “He is the most beautiful dog in the world!” the girl began, with + kindling eyes. “He has the most exquisite white curly hair and two light + brown patches on his back—and, oh! <i>such</i> lovely dark eyes! + They call him a Scotch terrier. When he is well his appetite is truly + wonderful—nothing comes amiss to him, sir, from pate de foie gras to + potatoes. He has his enemies, poor dear, though you wouldn’t think it. + People who won’t put up with being bitten by him (what shocking tempers + one does meet with, to be sure!) call him a mongrel. Isn’t it a shame? + Please come in and see him, sir; my Lady will be tired of waiting.” + </p> + <p> + Another journey to the door followed those words, checked instantly by a + serious objection. + </p> + <p> + “Stop a minute! You must tell me what his temper is, or I can do nothing + for him.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel returned once more, feeling that it was really serious this time. + Her gravity was even more charming than her gayety. As she lifted her face + to him, with large solemn eyes, expressive of her sense of responsibility, + Hardyman would have given every horse in his stables to have had the + privilege of taking her in his arms and kissing her. + </p> + <p> + “Tommie has the temper of an angel with the people he likes,” she said. + “When he bites, it generally means that he objects to strangers. He loves + my Lady, and he loves Mr. Moody, and he loves me, and—and I think + that’s all. This way, sir, if you please, I am sure I heard my Lady call.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Hardyman, in his immovably obstinate way. “Nobody called. About + this dog’s temper? Doesn’t he take to any strangers? What sort of people + does he bite in general?” + </p> + <p> + Isabel’s pretty lips began to curl upward at the corners in a quaint + smile. Hardyman’s last imbecile question had opened her eyes to the true + state of the case. Still, Tommie’s future was in this strange gentleman’s + hands; she felt bound to consider that. And, moreover, it was no everyday + event, in Isabel’s experience, to fascinate a famous personage, who was + also a magnificent and perfectly dressed man. She ran the risk of wasting + another minute or two, and went on with the memoirs of Tommie. + </p> + <p> + “I must own, sir,” she resumed, “that he behaves a little ungratefully—even + to strangers who take an interest in him. When he gets lost in the streets + (which is very often), he sits down on the pavement and howls till he + collects a pitying crowd round him; and when they try to read his name and + address on his collar he snaps at them. The servants generally find him + and bring him back; and as soon as he gets home he turns round on the + doorstep and snaps at the servants. I think it must be his fun. You should + see him sitting up in his chair at dinner-time, waiting to be helped, with + his fore paws on the edge of the table, like the hands of a gentleman at a + public dinner making a speech. But, oh!” cried Isabel, checking herself, + with the tears in her eyes, “how can I talk of him in this way when he is + so dreadfully ill! Some of them say it’s bronchitis, and some say it’s his + liver. Only yesterday I took him to the front door to give him a little + air, and he stood still on the pavement, quite stupefied. For the first + time in his life, he snapped at nobody who went by; and, oh, dear, he + hadn’t even the heart to smell a lamp-post!” + </p> + <p> + Isabel had barely stated this last afflicting circumstance when the + memoirs of Tommie were suddenly cut short by the voice of Lady Lydiard—really + calling this time—from the inner room. + </p> + <p> + “Isabel! Isabel!” cried her Ladyship, “what are you about?” + </p> + <p> + Isabel ran to the door of the boudoir and threw it open. “Go in, sir! Pray + go in!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Without you?” Hardyman asked. + </p> + <p> + “I will follow you, sir. I have something to do for her Ladyship first.” + </p> + <p> + She still held the door open, and pointed entreatingly to the passage + which led to the boudoir “I shall be blamed, sir,” she said, “if you don’t + go in.” + </p> + <p> + This statement of the case left Hardyman no alternative. He presented + himself to Lady Lydiard without another moment of delay. + </p> + <p> + Having closed the drawing-room door on him, Isabel waited a little, + absorbed in her own thoughts. + </p> + <p> + She was now perfectly well aware of the effect which she had produced on + Hardyman. Her vanity, it is not to be denied, was flattered by his + admiration—he was so grand and so tall, and he had such fine large + eyes. The girl looked prettier than ever as she stood with her head down + and her color heightened, smiling to herself. A clock on the chimney-piece + striking the half-hour roused her. She cast one look at the glass, as she + passed it, and went to the table at which Lady Lydiard had been writing. + </p> + <p> + Methodical Mr. Moody, in submitting to be employed as bath-attendant upon + Tommie, had not forgotten the interests of his mistress. He reminded her + Ladyship that she had left her letter, with a bank-note inclosed in it, + unsealed. Absorbed in the dog, Lady Lydiard answered, “Isabel is doing + nothing, let Isabel seal it. Show Mr. Hardyman in here,” she continued, + turning to Isabel, “and then seal a letter of mine which you will find on + the table.” “And when you have sealed it,” careful Mr. Moody added, “put + it back on the table; I will take charge of it when her Ladyship has done + with me.” + </p> + <p> + Such were the special instructions which now detained Isabel in the + drawing-room. She lighted the taper, and closed and sealed the open + envelope, without feeling curiosity enough even to look at the address. + Mr. Hardyman was the uppermost subject in her thoughts. Leaving the sealed + letter on the table, she returned to the fireplace, and studied her own + charming face attentively in the looking-glass. The time passed—and + Isabel’s reflection was still the subject of Isabel’s contemplation. “He + must see many beautiful ladies,” she thought, veering backward and forward + between pride and humility. “I wonder what he sees in Me?” + </p> + <p> + The clock struck the hour. Almost at the same moment the boudoir-door + opened, and Robert Moody, released at last from attendance on Tommie, + entered the drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. + </h2> + <p> + “WELL?” asked Isabel eagerly, “what does Mr. Hardyman say? Does he think + he can cure Tommie?” + </p> + <p> + Moody answered a little coldly and stiffly. His dark, deeply-set eyes + rested on Isabel with an uneasy look. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Hardyman seems to understand animals,” he said. “He lifted the dog’s + eyelid and looked at his eyes, and then he told us the bath was useless.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on!” said Isabel impatiently. “He did something, I suppose, besides + telling you that the bath was useless?” + </p> + <p> + “He took a knife out of his pocket, with a lancet in it.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel clasped her hands with a faint cry of horror. “Oh, Mr. Moody! did + he hurt Tommie?” + </p> + <p> + “Hurt him?” Moody repeated, indignant at the interest which she felt in + the animal, and the indifference which she exhibited towards the man (as + represented by himself). “Hurt him, indeed! Mr. Hardyman bled the brute—” + </p> + <p> + “Brute?” Isabel reiterated, with flashing eyes. “I know some people, Mr. + Moody, who really deserve to be called by that horrid word. If you can’t + say ‘Tommie,’ when you speak of him in my presence, be so good as to say + ‘the dog.’” + </p> + <p> + Moody yielded with the worst possible grace. “Oh, very well! Mr. Hardyman + bled the dog, and brought him to his senses directly. I am charged to tell + you—” He stopped, as if the message which he was instructed to + deliver was in the last degree distasteful to him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what were you charged to tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “I was to say that Mr. Hardyman will give you instructions how to treat + the dog for the future.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel hastened to the door, eager to receive her instructions. Moody + stopped her before she could open it. + </p> + <p> + “You are in a great hurry to get to Mr. Hardyman,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + Isabel looked back at him in surprise. “You said just now that Mr. + Hardyman was waiting to tell me how to nurse Tommie.” + </p> + <p> + “Let him wait,” Moody rejoined sternly. “When I left him, he was + sufficiently occupied in expressing his favorable opinion of you to her + Ladyship.” + </p> + <p> + The steward’s pale face turned paler still as he said those words. With + the arrival of Isabel in Lady Lydiard’s house “his time had come”—exactly + as the women in the servants’ hall had predicted. At last the impenetrable + man felt the influence of the sex; at last he knew the passion of love + misplaced, ill-starred, hopeless love, for a woman who was young enough to + be his child. He had already spoken to Isabel more than once in terms + which told his secret plainly enough. But the smouldering fire of jealousy + in the man, fanned into flame by Hardyman, now showed itself for the first + time. His looks, even more than his words, would have warned a woman with + any knowledge of the natures of men to be careful how she answered him. + Young, giddy, and inexperienced, Isabel followed the flippant impulse of + the moment, without a thought of the consequences. “I’m sure it’s very + kind of Mr. Hardyman to speak favorably of me,” she said, with a pert + little laugh. “I hope you are not jealous of him, Mr. Moody?” + </p> + <p> + Moody was in no humor to make allowances for the unbridled gayety of youth + and good spirits. + </p> + <p> + “I hate any man who admires you,” he burst out passionately, “let him be + who he may!” + </p> + <p> + Isabel looked at her strange lover with unaffected astonishment. How + unlike Mr. Hardyman, who had treated her as a lady from first to last! + “What an odd man you are!” she said. “You can’t take a joke. I’m sure I + didn’t mean to offend you.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t offend me—you do worse, you distress me.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel’s color began to rise. The merriment died out of her face; she + looked at Moody gravely. “I don’t like to be accused of distressing people + when I don’t deserve it,” she said. “I had better leave you. Let me by, if + you please.” + </p> + <p> + Having committed one error in offending her, Moody committed another in + attempting to make his peace with her. Acting under the fear that she + would really leave him, he took her roughly by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “You are always trying to get away from me,” he said. “I wish I knew how + to make you like me, Isabel.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t allow you to call me Isabel!” she retorted, struggling to free + herself from his hold. “Let go of my arm. You hurt me.” + </p> + <p> + Moody dropped her arm with a bitter sigh. “I don’t know how to deal with + you,” he said simply. “Have some pity on me!” + </p> + <p> + If the steward had known anything of women (at Isabel’s age) he would + never have appealed to her mercy in those plain terms, and at the + unpropitious moment. “Pity you?” she repeated contemptuously. “Is that all + you have to say to me after hurting my arm? What a bear you are!” She + shrugged her shoulders and put her hands coquettishly into the pockets of + her apron. That was how she pitied him! His face turned paler and paler—he + writhed under it. + </p> + <p> + “For God’s sake, don’t turn everything I say to you into ridicule!” he + cried. “You know I love you with all my heart and soul. Again and again I + have asked you to be my wife—and you laugh at me as if it was a + joke. I haven’t deserved to be treated in that cruel way. It maddens me—I + can’t endure it!” + </p> + <p> + Isabel looked down on the floor, and followed the lines in the pattern of + the carpet with the end of her smart little shoe. She could hardly have + been further away from really understanding Moody if he had spoken in + Hebrew. She was partly startled, partly puzzled, by the strong emotions + which she had unconsciously called into being. “Oh dear me!” she said, + “why can’t you talk of something else? Why can’t we be friends? Excuse me + for mentioning it,” she went on, looking up at him with a saucy smile, + “you are old enough to be my father.” + </p> + <p> + Moody’s head sank on his breast. “I own it,” he answered humbly. “But + there is something to be said for me. Men as old as I am have made good + husbands before now. I would devote my whole life to make you happy. There + isn’t a wish you could form which I wouldn’t be proud to obey. You must + not reckon me by years. My youth has not been wasted in a profligate life; + I can be truer to you and fonder of you than many a younger man. Surely my + heart is not quite unworthy of you, when it is all yours. I have lived + such a lonely, miserable life—and you might so easily brighten it. + You are kind to everybody else, Isabel. Tell me, dear, why are you so hard + on <i>me?</i>” + </p> + <p> + His voice trembled as he appealed to her in those simple words. He had + taken the right way at last to produce an impression on her. She really + felt for him. All that was true and tender in her nature began to rise in + her and take his part. Unhappily, he felt too deeply and too strongly to + be patient, and give her time. He completely misinterpreted her silence—completely + mistook the motive that made her turn aside for a moment, to gather + composure enough to speak to him. “Ah!” he burst out bitterly, turning + away on his side, “you have no heart.” + </p> + <p> + She instantly resented those unjust words. At that moment they wounded her + to the quick. + </p> + <p> + “You know best,” she said. “I have no doubt you are right. Remember one + thing, however, that though I have no heart, I have never encouraged you, + Mr. Moody. I have declared over and over again that I could only be your + friend. Understand that for the future, if you please. There are plenty of + nice women who will be glad to marry you, I have no doubt. You will always + have my best wishes for your welfare. Good-morning. Her Ladyship will + wonder what has become of me. Be so kind as to let me pass.” + </p> + <p> + Tortured by the passion that consumed him, Moody obstinately kept his + place between Isabel and the door. The unworthy suspicion of her, which + had been in his mind all through the interview, now forced its way + outwards to expression at last. + </p> + <p> + “No woman ever used a man as you use me without some reason for it,” he + said. “You have kept your secret wonderfully well—but sooner or + later all secrets get found out. I know what is in your mind as well as + you know it yourself. You are in love with some other man.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel’s face flushed deeply; the defensive pride of her sex was up in + arms in an instant. She cast one disdainful look at Moody, without + troubling herself to express her contempt in words. “Stand out of my way, + sir!”—that was all she said to him. + </p> + <p> + “You are in love with some other man,” he reiterated passionately. “Deny + it if you can!” + </p> + <p> + “Deny it?” she repeated, with flashing eyes. “What right have you to ask + the question? Am I not free to do as I please?” + </p> + <p> + He stood looking at her, meditating his next words with a sudden and + sinister change to self-restraint. Suppressed rage was in his rigidly set + eyes, suppressed rage was in his trembling hand as he raised it + emphatically while he spoke his next words. + </p> + <p> + “I have one thing more to say,” he answered, “and then I have done. If I + am not your husband, no other man shall be. Look well to it, Isabel + Miller. If there <i>is</i> another man between us, I can tell him this—he + shall find it no easy matter to rob me of you!” + </p> + <p> + She started, and turned pale—but it was only for a moment. The high + spirit that was in her rose brightly in her eyes, and faced him without + shrinking. + </p> + <p> + “Threats?” she said, with quiet contempt. “When you make love, Mr. Moody, + you take strange ways of doing it. My conscience is easy. You may try to + frighten me, but you will not succeed. When you have recovered your temper + I will accept your excuses.” She paused, and pointed to the table. “There + is the letter that you told me to leave for you when I had sealed it,” she + went on. “I suppose you have her Ladyship’s orders. Isn’t it time you + began to think of obeying them?” + </p> + <p> + The contemptuous composure of her tone and manner seemed to act on Moody + with crushing effect. Without a word of answer, the unfortunate steward + took up the letter from the table. Without a word of answer, he walked + mechanically to the great door which opened on the staircase—turned + on the threshold to look at Isabel—waited a moment, pale and still—and + suddenly left the room. + </p> + <p> + That silent departure, that hopeless submission, impressed Isabel in spite + of herself. The sustaining sense of injury and insult sank, as it were, + from under her the moment she was alone. He had not been gone a minute + before she began to be sorry for him once more. The interview had taught + her nothing. She was neither old enough nor experienced enough to + understand the overwhelming revolution produced in a man’s character when + he feels the passion of love for the first time in the maturity of his + life. If Moody had stolen a kiss at the first opportunity, she would have + resented the liberty he had taken with her; but she would have thoroughly + understood him. His terrible earnestness, his overpowering agitation, his + abrupt violence—all these evidences of a passion that was a mystery + to himself—simply puzzled her. “I’m sure I didn’t wish to hurt his + feelings” (such was the form that her reflections took, in her present + penitent frame of mind); “but why did he provoke me? It is a shame to tell + me that I love some other man—when there is no other man. I declare + I begin to hate the men, if they are all like Mr. Moody. I wonder whether + he will forgive me when he sees me again? I’m sure I’m willing to forget + and forgive on my side—especially if he won’t insist on my being + fond of him because he is fond of me. Oh, dear! I wish he would come back + and shake hands. It’s enough to try the patience of a saint to be treated + in this way. I wish I was ugly! The ugly ones have a quiet time of it—the + men let them be. Mr. Moody! Mr. Moody!” She went out to the landing and + called to him softly. There was no answer. He was no longer in the house. + She stood still for a moment in silent vexation. “I’ll go to Tommie!” she + decided. “I’m sure he’s the more agreeable company of the two. And—oh, + good gracious! there’s Mr. Hardyman waiting to give me my instructions! + How do I look, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + She consulted the glass once more—gave one or two corrective touches + to her hair and her cap—and hastened into the boudoir. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. + </h2> + <p> + FOR a quarter of an hour the drawing-room remained empty. At the end of + that time the council in the boudoir broke up. Lady Lydiard led the way + back into the drawing-room, followed by Hardyman, Isabel being left to + look after the dog. Before the door closed behind him, Hardyman turned + round to reiterate his last medical directions—or, in plainer words, + to take a last look at Isabel. + </p> + <p> + “Plenty of water, Miss Isabel, for the dog to lap, and a little bread or + biscuit, if he wants something to eat. Nothing more, if you please, till I + see him to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir. I will take the greatest care—” + </p> + <p> + At that point Lady Lydiard cut short the interchange of instructions and + civilities. “Shut the door, if you please, Mr. Hardyman. I feel the + draught. Many thanks! I am really at a loss to tell you how gratefully I + feel your kindness. But for you my poor little dog might be dead by this + time.” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman answered, in the quiet melancholy monotone which was habitual + with him, “Your Ladyship need feel no further anxiety about the dog. Only + be careful not to overfeed him. He will do very well under Miss Isabel’s + care. By the bye, her family name is Miller—is it not? Is she + related to the Warwickshire Millers of Duxborough House?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard looked at him with an expression of satirical surprise. “Mr. + Hardyman,” she said, “this makes the fourth time you have questioned me + about Isabel. You seem to take a great interest in my little companion. + Don’t make any apologies, pray! You pay Isabel a compliment, and, as I am + very fond of her, I am naturally gratified when I find her admired. At the + same time,” she added, with one of her abrupt transitions of language, “I + had my eye on you, and I had my eye on her, when you were talking in the + next room; and I don’t mean to let you make a fool of the girl. She is not + in your line of life, and the sooner you know it the better. You make me + laugh when you ask if she is related to gentlefolks. She is the orphan + daughter of a chemist in the country. Her relations haven’t a penny to + bless themselves with, except an old aunt, who lives in a village on two + or three hundred a year. I heard of the girl by accident. When she lost + her father and mother, her aunt offered to take her. Isabel said, ‘No, + thank you; I will not be a burden on a relation who has only enough for + herself. A girl can earn an honest living if she tries; and I mean to try’—that’s + what she said. I admired her independence,” her Ladyship proceeded, + ascending again to the higher regions of thought and expression. “My + niece’s marriage, just at that time, had left me alone in this great + house. I proposed to Isabel to come to me as companion and reader for a + few weeks, and to decide for herself whether she liked the life or not. We + have never been separated since that time. I could hardly be fonder of her + if she were my own daughter; and she returns my affection with all her + heart. She has excellent qualities—prudent, cheerful, + sweet-tempered; with good sense enough to understand what her place is in + the world, as distinguished from her place in my regard. I have taken + care, for her own sake, never to leave that part of the question in any + doubt. It would be cruel kindness to deceive her as to her future position + when she marries. I shall take good care that the man who pays his + addresses to her is a man in her rank of life. I know but too well, in the + case of one of my own relatives, what miseries unequal marriages bring + with them. Excuse me for troubling you at this length on domestic matters. + I am very fond of Isabel; and a girl’s head is so easily turned. Now you + know what her position really is, you will also know what limits there + must be to the expression of your interest in her. I am sure we understand + each other; and I say no more.” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman listened to this long harangue with the immovable gravity which + was part of his character—except when Isabel had taken him by + surprise. When her Ladyship gave him the opportunity of speaking on his + side, he had very little to say, and that little did not suggest that he + had greatly profited by what he had heard. His mind had been full of + Isabel when Lady Lydiard began, and it remained just as full of her, in + just the same way, when Lady Lydiard had done. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he remarked quietly, “Miss Isabel is an uncommonly nice girl, as + you say. Very pretty, and such frank, unaffected manners. I don’t deny + that I feel an interest in her. The young ladies one meets in society are + not much to my taste. Miss Isabel is my taste.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard’s face assumed a look of blank dismay. “I am afraid I have + failed to convey my exact meaning to you,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Hardyman gravely declared that he understood her perfectly. “Perfectly!” + he repeated, with his impenetrable obstinacy. “Your Ladyship exactly + expresses my opinion of Miss Isabel. Prudent, and cheerful, and + sweet-tempered, as you say—all the qualities in a woman that I + admire. With good looks, too—of course, with good looks. She will be + a perfect treasure (as you remarked just now) to the man who marries her. + I may claim to know something about it. I have twice narrowly escaped + being married myself; and, though I can’t exactly explain it, I’m all the + harder to please in consequence. Miss Isabel pleases me. I think I have + said that before? Pardon me for saying it again. I’ll call again to-morrow + morning and look at the dog as early as eleven o’clock, if you will allow + me. Later in the day I must be off to France to attend a sale of horses. + Glad to have been of any use to your Ladyship, I am sure. Good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard let him go, wisely resigning any further attempt to establish + an understanding between her visitor and herself. + </p> + <p> + “He is either a person of very limited intelligence when he is away from + his stables,” she thought, “or he deliberately declines to take a plain + hint when it is given to him. I can’t drop his acquaintance, on Tommie’s + account. The only other alternative is to keep Isabel out of his way. My + good little girl shall not drift into a false position while I am living + to look after her. When Mr. Hardyman calls to-morrow she shall be out on + an errand. When he calls the next time she shall be upstairs with a + headache. And if he tries it again she shall be away at my house in the + country. If he makes any remarks on her absence—well, he will find + that I can be just as dull of understanding as he is when the occasion + calls for it.” + </p> + <p> + Having arrived at this satisfactory solution of the difficulty, Lady + Lydiard became conscious of an irresistible impulse to summon Isabel to + her presence and caress her. In the nature of a warm-hearted woman, this + was only the inevitable reaction which followed the subsidence of anxiety + about the girl, after her own resolution had set that anxiety at rest. She + threw open the door and made one of her sudden appearances at the boudoir. + Even in the fervent outpouring of her affection, there was still the + inherent abruptness of manner which so strongly marked Lady Lydiard’s + character in all the relations of life. + </p> + <p> + “Did I give you a kiss, this morning?” she asked, when Isabel rose to + receive her. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my Lady,” said the girl, with her charming smile. + </p> + <p> + “Come, then, and give me a kiss in return. Do you love me? Very well, + then, treat me like your mother. Never mind ‘my lady’ this time. Give me a + good hug!” + </p> + <p> + Something in those homely words, or something perhaps in the look that + accompanied them, touched sympathies in Isabel which seldom showed + themselves on the surface. Her smiling lips trembled, the bright tears + rose in her eyes. “You are too good to me,” she murmured, with her head on + Lady Lydiard’s bosom. “How can I ever love you enough in return?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard patted the pretty head that rested on her with such filial + tenderness. “There! there!” she said, “Go back and play with Tommie, my + dear. We may be as fond of each other as we like; but we mustn’t cry. God + bless you! Go away—go away!” + </p> + <p> + She turned aside quickly; her own eyes were moistening, and it was part of + her character to be reluctant to let Isabel see it. “Why have I made a + fool of myself?” she wondered, as she approached the drawing-room door. + “It doesn’t matter. I am all the better for it. Odd, that Mr. Hardyman + should have made me feel fonder of Isabel than ever!” + </p> + <p> + With those reflections she re-entered the drawing-room—and suddenly + checked herself with a start. “Good Heavens!” she exclaimed irritably, + “how you frightened me! Why was I not told you were here?” + </p> + <p> + Having left the drawing-room in a state of solitude, Lady Lydiard on her + return found herself suddenly confronted with a gentleman, mysteriously + planted on the hearth-rug in her absence. The new visitor may be rightly + described as a gray man. He had gray hair, eyebrows, and whiskers; he wore + a gray coat, waistcoat, and trousers, and gray gloves. For the rest, his + appearance was eminently suggestive of wealth and respectability and, in + this case, appearances were really to be trusted. The gray man was no + other than Lady Lydiard’s legal adviser, Mr. Troy. + </p> + <p> + “I regret, my Lady, that I should have been so unfortunate as to startle + you,” he said, with a certain underlying embarrassment in his manner. “I + had the honor of sending word by Mr. Moody that I would call at this hour, + on some matters of business connected with your Ladyship’s house property. + I presumed that you expected to find me here, waiting your pleasure—” + </p> + <p> + Thus far Lady Lydiard had listened to her legal adviser, fixing her eyes + on his face in her usually frank, straightforward way. She now stopped him + in the middle of a sentence, with a change of expression in her own face + which was undisguisedly a change to alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t apologize, Mr. Troy,” she said. “I am to blame for forgetting your + appointment and for not keeping my nerves under proper control.” She + paused for a moment and took a seat before she said her next words. “May I + ask,” she resumed, “if there is something unpleasant in the business that + brings you here?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing whatever, my Lady; mere formalities, which can wait till + to-morrow or next day, if you wish it.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard’s fingers drummed impatiently on the table. “You have known + me long enough, Mr. Troy, to know that I cannot endure suspense. You <i>have</i> + something unpleasant to tell me.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer respectfully remonstrated. “Really, Lady Lydiard!—” he + began. + </p> + <p> + “It won’t do, Mr. Troy! I know how you look at me on ordinary occasions, + and I see how you look at me now. You are a very clever lawyer; but, + happily for the interests that I commit to your charge, you are also a + thoroughly honest man. After twenty years’ experience of you, you can’t + deceive <i>me</i>. You bring me bad news. Speak at once, sir, and speak + plainly.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy yielded—inch by inch, as it were. “I bring news which, I + fear, may annoy your Ladyship.” He paused, and advanced another inch. “It + is news which I only became acquainted with myself on entering this + house.” + </p> + <p> + He waited again, and made another advance. “I happened to meet your + Ladyship’s steward, Mr. Moody, in the hall—” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he?” Lady Lydiard interposed angrily. “I can make <i>him</i> + speak out, and I will. Send him here instantly.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer made a last effort to hold off the coming disclosure a little + longer. “Mr. Moody will be here directly,” he said. “Mr. Moody requested + me to prepare your Ladyship—” + </p> + <p> + “Will you ring the bell, Mr. Troy, or must I?” + </p> + <p> + Moody had evidently been waiting outside while the lawyer spoke for him. + He saved Mr. Troy the trouble of ringing the bell by presenting himself in + the drawing-room. Lady Lydiard’s eyes searched his face as he approached. + Her bright complexion faded suddenly. Not a word more passed her lips. She + looked, and waited. + </p> + <p> + In silence on his part, Moody laid an open sheet of paper on the table. + The paper quivered in his trembling hand. + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard recovered herself first. “Is that for me?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my Lady.” + </p> + <p> + She took up the paper without an instant’s hesitation. Both the men + watched her anxiously as she read it. + </p> + <p> + The handwriting was strange to her. The words were these:— + </p> + <p> + “I hereby certify that the bearer of these lines, Robert Moody by name, + has presented to me the letter with which he was charged, addressed to + myself, with the seal intact. I regret to add that there is, to say the + least of it, some mistake. The inclosure referred to by the anonymous + writer of the letter, who signs ‘a friend in need,’ has not reached me. No + five-hundred pound bank-note was in the letter when I opened it. My wife + was present when I broke the seal, and can certify to this statement if + necessary. Not knowing who my charitable correspondent is (Mr. Moody being + forbidden to give me any information), I can only take this means of + stating the case exactly as it stands, and hold myself at the disposal of + the writer of the letter. My private address is at the head of the page.—Samuel + Bradstock, Rector, St. Anne’s, Deansbury, London.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard dropped the paper on the table. For the moment, plainly as + the Rector’s statement was expressed, she appeared to be incapable of + understanding it. “What, in God’s name, does this mean?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + The lawyer and the steward looked at each other. Which of the two was + entitled to speak first? Lady Lydiard gave them no time to decide. + “Moody,” she said sternly, “you took charge of the letter—I look to + you for an explanation.” + </p> + <p> + Moody’s dark eyes flashed. He answered Lady Lydiard without caring to + conceal that he resented the tone in which she had spoken to him. + </p> + <p> + “I undertook to deliver the letter at its address,” he said. “I found it, + sealed, on the table. Your Ladyship has the clergyman’s written testimony + that I handed it to him with the seal unbroken. I have done my duty; and I + have no explanation to offer.” + </p> + <p> + Before Lady Lydiard could speak again, Mr. Troy discreetly interfered. He + saw plainly that his experience was required to lead the investigation in + the right direction. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, my Lady,” he said, with that happy mixture of the positive and + the polite in his manner, of which lawyers alone possess the secret. + “There is only one way of arriving at the truth in painful matters of this + sort. We must begin at the beginning. May I venture to ask your Ladyship a + question?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard felt the composing influence of Mr. Troy. “I am at your + disposal, sir,” she said, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Are you absolutely certain that you inclosed the bank-note in the + letter?” the lawyer asked. + </p> + <p> + “I certainly believe I inclosed it,” Lady Lydiard answered. “But I was so + alarmed at the time by the sudden illness of my dog, that I do not feel + justified in speaking positively.” + </p> + <p> + “Was anybody in the room with your Ladyship when you put the inclosure in + the letter—as you believe?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> was in the room,” said Moody. “I can swear that I saw her + Ladyship put the bank-note in the letter, and the letter in the envelope.” + </p> + <p> + “And seal the envelope?” asked Mr. Troy. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. Her Ladyship was called away into the next room to the dog, + before she could seal the envelope.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy addressed himself once more to Lady Lydiard. “Did your Ladyship + take the letter into the next room with you?” + </p> + <p> + “I was too much alarmed to think of it, Mr. Troy. I left it here, on the + table.” + </p> + <p> + “With the envelope open?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “How long were you absent in the other room?” + </p> + <p> + “Half an hour or more.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” said Mr. Troy to himself. “This complicates it a little.” He + reflected for a while, and then turned again to Moody. “Did any of the + servants know of this bank-note being in her Ladyship’s possession?” + </p> + <p> + “Not one of them,” Moody answered. + </p> + <p> + “Do you suspect any of the servants?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Are there any workmen employed in the house?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know of any persons who had access to the room while Lady Lydiard + was absent from it?” + </p> + <p> + “Two visitors called, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Who were they?” + </p> + <p> + “Her Ladyship’s nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir, and the Honorable Alfred + Hardyman.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy shook his head irritably. “I am not speaking of gentlemen of high + position and repute,” he said. “It’s absurd even to mention Mr. Sweetsir + and Mr. Hardyman. My question related to strangers who might have obtained + access to the drawing-room—people calling, with her Ladyship’s + sanction, for subscriptions, for instance; or people calling with articles + of dress or ornament to be submitted to her Ladyship’s inspection.” + </p> + <p> + “No such persons came to the house with my knowledge,” Moody answered. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy suspended the investigation, and took a turn thoughtfully in the + room. The theory on which his inquiries had proceeded thus far had failed + to produce any results. His experience warned him to waste no more time on + it, and to return to the starting-point of the investigation—in + other words, to the letter. Shifting his point of view, he turned again to + Lady Lydiard, and tried his questions in a new direction. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Moody mentioned just now,” he said, “that your Ladyship was called + into the next room before you could seal your letter. On your return to + this room, did you seal the letter?” + </p> + <p> + “I was busy with the dog,” Lady Lydiard answered. “Isabel Miller was of no + use in the boudoir, and I told her to seal it for me.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy started. The new direction in which he was pushing his inquiries + began to look like the right direction already. “Miss Isabel Miller,” he + proceeded, “has been a resident under your Ladyship’s roof for some little + time, I believe?” + </p> + <p> + “For nearly two years, Mr. Troy.” + </p> + <p> + “As your Ladyship’s companion and reader?” + </p> + <p> + “As my adopted daughter,” her Ladyship answered, with marked emphasis. + </p> + <p> + Wise Mr. Troy rightly interpreted the emphasis as a warning to him to + suspend the examination of her Ladyship, and to address to Mr. Moody the + far more serious questions which were now to come. + </p> + <p> + “Did anyone give you the letter before you left the house with it?” he + said to the steward. “Or did you take it yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “I took it myself, from the table here.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it sealed?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Was anybody present when you took the letter from the table?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Isabel was present.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you find her alone in the room?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard opened her lips to speak, and checked herself. Mr. Troy, + having cleared the ground before him, put the fatal question. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Moody,” he said, “when Miss Isabel was instructed to seal the letter, + did she know that a bank-note was inclosed in it?” + </p> + <p> + Instead of replying, Robert drew back from the lawyer with a look of + horror. Lady Lydiard started to her feet—and checked herself again, + on the point of speaking. + </p> + <p> + “Answer him, Moody,” she said, putting a strong constraint on herself. + </p> + <p> + Robert answered very unwillingly. “I took the liberty of reminding her + ladyship that she had left her letter unsealed,” he said. “And I mentioned + as my excuse for speaking,”—he stopped, and corrected himself—“<i>I + believe</i> I mentioned that a valuable inclosure was in the letter.” + </p> + <p> + “You believe?” Mr. Troy repeated. “Can’t you speak more positively than + that?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> can speak positively,” said Lady Lydiard, with her eyes on the + lawyer. “Moody did mention the inclosure in the letter—in Isabel + Miller’s hearing as well as in mine.” She paused, steadily controlling + herself. “And what of that, Mr. Troy?” she added, very quietly and firmly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy answered quietly and firmly, on his side. “I am surprised that + your Ladyship should ask the question,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I persist in repeating the question,” Lady Lydiard rejoined. “I say that + Isabel Miller knew of the inclosure in my letter—and I ask, What of + that?” + </p> + <p> + “And I answer,” retorted the impenetrable lawyer, “that the suspicion of + theft rests on your Ladyship’s adopted daughter, and on nobody else.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s false!” cried Robert, with a burst of honest indignation. “I wish to + God I had never said a word to you about the loss of the bank-note! Oh, my + Lady! my Lady! don’t let him distress you! What does <i>he</i> know about + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said Lady Lydiard. “Control yourself, and hear what he has to + say.” She rested her hand on Moody’s shoulder, partly to encourage him, + partly to support herself; and, fixing her eyes again on Mr. Troy, + repeated his last words, “‘Suspicion rests on my adopted daughter, and on + nobody else.’ Why on nobody else?” + </p> + <p> + “Is your Ladyship prepared to suspect the Rector of St. Anne’s of + embezzlement, or your own relatives and equals of theft?” Mr. Troy asked. + “Does a shadow of doubt rest on the servants? Not if Mr. Moody’s evidence + is to be believed. Who, to our own certain knowledge, had access to the + letter while it was unsealed? Who was alone in the room with it? And who + knew of the inclosure in it? I leave the answer to your Ladyship.” + </p> + <p> + “Isabel Miller is as incapable of an act of theft as I am. There is my + answer, Mr. Troy.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer bowed resignedly, and advanced to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Am I to take your Ladyship’s generous assertion as finally disposing of + the question of the lost bank-note?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard met the challenge without shrinking from it. + </p> + <p> + “No!” she said. “The loss of the bank-note is known out of my house. Other + persons may suspect this innocent girl as you suspect her. It is due to + Isabel’s reputation—her unstained reputation, Mr. Troy!—that + she should know what has happened, and should have an opportunity of + defending herself. She is in the next room, Moody. Bring her here.” + </p> + <p> + Robert’s courage failed him: he trembled at the bare idea of exposing + Isabel to the terrible ordeal that awaited her. “Oh, my Lady!” he pleaded, + “think again before you tell the poor girl that she is suspected of theft. + Keep it a secret from her—the shame of it will break her heart!” + </p> + <p> + “Keep it a secret,” said Lady Lydiard, “when the Rector and the Rector’s + wife both know of it! Do you think they will let the matter rest where it + is, even if I could consent to hush it up? I must write to them; and I + can’t write anonymously after what has happened. Put yourself in Isabel’s + place, and tell me if you would thank the person who knew you to be + innocently exposed to a disgraceful suspicion, and who concealed it from + you? Go, Moody! The longer you delay, the harder it will be.” + </p> + <p> + With his head sunk on his breast, with anguish written in every line of + his face, Moody obeyed. Passing slowly down the short passage which + connected the two rooms, and still shrinking from the duty that had been + imposed on him, he paused, looking through the curtains which hung over + the entrance to the boudoir. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. + </h2> + <h3> + THE sight that met Moody’s view wrung him to the heart. + </h3> + <p> + Isabel and the dog were at play together. Among the varied accomplishments + possessed by Tommie, the capacity to take his part at a game of + hide-and-seek was one. His playfellow for the time being put a shawl or a + handkerchief over his head, so as to prevent him from seeing, and then hid + among the furniture a pocketbook, or a cigar-case, or a purse, or anything + else that happened to be at hand, leaving the dog to find it, with his + keen sense of smell to guide him. Doubly relieved by the fit and the + bleeding, Tommie’s spirits had revived; and he and Isabel had just begun + their game when Moody looked into the room, charged with his terrible + errand. “You’re burning, Tommie, you’re burning!” cried the girl, laughing + and clapping her hands. The next moment she happened to look round and saw + Moody through the parted curtains. His face warned her instantly that + something serious had happened. She advanced a few steps, her eyes resting + on him in silent alarm. He was himself too painfully agitated to speak. + Not a word was exchanged between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy in the next + room. In the complete stillness that prevailed, the dog was heard sniffing + and fidgeting about the furniture. Robert took Isabel by the hand and led + her into the drawing-room. “For God’s sake, spare her, my Lady!” he + whispered. The lawyer heard him. “No,” said Mr. Troy. “Be merciful, and + tell her the truth!” + </p> + <p> + He spoke to a woman who stood in no need of his advice. The inherent + nobility in Lady Lydiard’s nature was aroused: her great heart offered + itself patiently to any sorrow, to any sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + Putting her arm round Isabel—half caressing her, half supporting her—Lady + Lydiard accepted the whole responsibility and told the whole truth. + </p> + <p> + Reeling under the first shock, the poor girl recovered herself with + admirable courage. She raised her head, and eyed the lawyer without + uttering a word. In its artless consciousness of innocence the look was + nothing less than sublime. Addressing herself to Mr. Troy, Lady Lydiard + pointed to Isabel. “Do you see guilt there?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy made no answer. In the melancholy experience of humanity to which + his profession condemned him, he had seen conscious guilt assume the face + of innocence, and helpless innocence admit the disguise of guilt: the + keenest observation, in either case, failing completely to detect the + truth. Lady Lydiard misinterpreted his silence as expressing the sullen + self-assertion of a heartless man. She turned from him, in contempt, and + held out her hand to Isabel. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Troy is not satisfied yet,” she said bitterly. “My love, take my + hand, and look me in the face as your equal; I know no difference of rank + at such a time as this. Before God, who hears you, are you innocent of the + theft of the bank-note?” + </p> + <p> + “Before God, who hears me,” Isabel answered, “I am innocent.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard looked once more at the lawyer, and waited to hear if he + believed <i>that</i>. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy took refuge in dumb diplomacy—he made a low bow. It might + have meant that he believed Isabel, or it might have meant that he + modestly withdrew his own opinion into the background. Lady Lydiard did + not condescend to inquire what it meant. + </p> + <p> + “The sooner we bring this painful scene to an end the better,” she said. + “I shall be glad to avail myself of your professional assistance, Mr. + Troy, within certain limits. Outside of my house, I beg that you will + spare no trouble in tracing the lost money to the person who has really + stolen it. Inside of my house, I must positively request that the + disappearance of the note may never be alluded to, in any way whatever, + until your inquiries have been successful in discovering the thief. In the + meanwhile, Mrs. Tollmidge and her family must not be sufferers by my loss: + I shall pay the money again.” She paused, and pressed Isabel’s hand with + affectionate fervor. “My child,” she said, “one last word to you, and I + have done. You remain here, with my trust in you, and my love for you, + absolutely unshaken. When you think of what has been said here to-day, + never forget that.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel bent her head, and kissed the kind hand that still held hers. The + high spirit that was in her, inspired by Lady Lydiard’s example, rose + equal to the dreadful situation in which she was placed. + </p> + <p> + “No, my Lady,” she said calmly and sadly; “it cannot be. What this + gentleman has said of me is not to be denied—the appearances are + against me. The letter was open, and I was alone in the room with it, and + Mr. Moody told me that a valuable inclosure was inside it. Dear and kind + mistress! I am not fit to be a member of your household, I am not worthy + to live with the honest people who serve you, while my innocence is in + doubt. It is enough for me now that <i>you</i> don’t doubt it. I can wait + patiently, after that, for the day that gives me back my good name. Oh, my + Lady, don’t cry about it! Pray, pray don’t cry!” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard’s self-control failed her for the first time. Isabel’s + courage had made Isabel dearer to her than ever. She sank into a chair, + and covered her face with her handkerchief. Mr. Troy turned aside + abruptly, and examined a Japanese vase, without any idea in his mind of + what he was looking at. Lady Lydiard had gravely misjudged him in + believing him to be a heartless man. + </p> + <p> + Isabel followed the lawyer, and touched him gently on the arm to rouse his + attention. + </p> + <p> + “I have one relation living, sir—an aunt—who will receive me + if I go to her,” she said simply. “Is there any harm in my going? Lady + Lydiard will give you the address when you want me. Spare her Ladyship, + sir, all the pain and trouble that you can.” + </p> + <p> + At last the heart that was in Mr. Troy asserted itself. “You are a fine + creature!” he said, with a burst of enthusiasm. “I agree with Lady Lydiard—I + believe you are innocent, too; and I will leave no effort untried to find + the proof of it.” He turned aside again, and had another look at the + Japanese vase. + </p> + <p> + As the lawyer withdrew himself from observation, Moody approached Isabel. + </p> + <p> + Thus far he had stood apart, watching her and listening to her in silence. + Not a look that had crossed her face, not a word that had fallen from her, + had escaped him. Unconsciously on her side, unconsciously on his side, she + now wrought on his nature with a purifying and ennobling influence which + animated it with a new life. All that had been selfish and violent in his + passion for her left him to return no more. The immeasurable devotion + which he laid at her feet, in the days that were yet to come—the + unyielding courage which cheerfully accepted the sacrifice of himself when + events demanded it at a later period of his life—struck root in him + now. Without attempting to conceal the tears that were falling fast over + his cheeks—striving vainly to express those new thoughts in him that + were beyond the reach of words—he stood before her the truest friend + and servant that ever woman had. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear! my heart is heavy for you. Take me to serve you and help + you. Her Ladyship’s kindness will permit it, I am sure.” + </p> + <p> + He could say no more. In those simple words the cry of his heart reached + her. “Forgive me, Robert,” she answered, gratefully, “if I said anything + to pain you when we spoke together a little while since. I didn’t mean + it.” She gave him her hand, and looked timidly over her shoulder at Lady + Lydiard. “Let me go!” she said, in low, broken tones, “Let me go!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy heard her, and stepped forward to interfere before Lady Lydiard + could speak. The man had recovered his self-control; the lawyer took his + place again on the scene. + </p> + <p> + “You must not leave us, my dear,” he said to Isabel, “until I have put a + question to Mr. Moody in which you are interested. Do you happen to have + the number of the lost bank-note?” he asked, turning to the steward. + </p> + <p> + Moody produced his slip of paper with the number on it. Mr. Troy made two + copies of it before he returned the paper. One copy he put in his pocket, + the other he handed to Isabel. + </p> + <p> + “Keep it carefully,” he said. “Neither you nor I know how soon it may be + of use to you.” + </p> + <p> + Receiving the copy from him, she felt mechanically in her apron for her + pocketbook. She had used it, in playing with the dog, as an object to hide + from him; but she had suffered, and was still suffering, too keenly to be + capable of the effort of remembrance. Moody, eager to help her even in the + most trifling thing, guessed what had happened. “You were playing with + Tommie,” he said; “is it in the next room?” + </p> + <p> + The dog heard his name pronounced through the open door. The next moment + he trotted into the drawing-room with Isabel’s pocketbook in his mouth. He + was a strong, well-grown Scotch terrier of the largest size, with bright, + intelligent eyes, and a coat of thick curling white hair, diversified by + two light brown patches on his back. As he reached the middle of the room, + and looked from one to another of the persons present, the fine sympathy + of his race told him that there was trouble among his human friends. His + tail dropped; he whined softly as he approached Isabel, and laid her + pocketbook at her feet. + </p> + <p> + She knelt as she picked up the pocketbook, and raised her playfellow of + happier days to take her leave of him. As the dog put his paws on her + shoulders, returning her caress, her first tears fell. “Foolish of me,” + she said, faintly, “to cry over a dog. I can’t help it. Good-by, Tommie!” + </p> + <p> + Putting him away from her gently, she walked towards the door. The dog + instantly followed. She put him away from her, for the second time, and + left him. He was not to be denied; he followed her again, and took the + skirt of her dress in his teeth, as if to hold her back. Robert forced the + dog, growling and resisting with all his might, to let go of the dress. + “Don’t be rough with him,” said Isabel. “Put him on her ladyship’s lap; he + will be quieter there.” Robert obeyed. He whispered to Lady Lydiard as she + received the dog; she seemed to be still incapable of speaking—she + bowed her head in silent assent. Robert hurried back to Isabel before she + had passed the door. “Not alone!” he said entreatingly. “Her Ladyship + permits it, Isabel. Let me see you safe to your aunt’s house.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel looked at him, felt for him, and yielded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered softly; “to make amends for what I said to you when I + was thoughtless and happy!” She waited a little to compose herself before + she spoke her farewell words to Lady Lydiard. “Good-by, my Lady. Your + kindness has not been thrown away on an ungrateful girl. I love you, and + thank you, with all my heart.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard rose, placing the dog on the chair as she left it. She seemed + to have grown older by years, instead of by minutes, in the short interval + that had passed since she had hidden her face from view. “I can’t bear + it!” she cried, in husky, broken tones. “Isabel! Isabel! I forbid you to + leave me!” + </p> + <p> + But one person could venture to resist her. That person was Mr. Troy—and + Mr. Troy knew it. + </p> + <p> + “Control yourself,” he said to her in a whisper. “The girl is doing what + is best and most becoming in her position—and is doing it with a + patience and courage wonderful to see. She places herself under the + protection of her nearest relative, until her character is vindicated and + her position in your house is once more beyond a doubt. Is this a time to + throw obstacles in her way? Be worthy of yourself, Lady Lydiard and think + of the day when she will return to you without the breath of a suspicion + to rest on her!” + </p> + <p> + There was no disputing with him—he was too plainly in the right. + Lady Lydiard submitted; she concealed the torture that her own resolution + inflicted on her with an endurance which was, indeed, worthy of herself. + Taking Isabel in her arms she kissed her in a passion of sorrow and love. + “My poor dear! My own sweet girl! don’t suppose that this is a parting + kiss! I shall see you again—often and often I shall see you again at + your aunt’s!” At a sign from Mr. Troy, Robert took Isabel’s arm in his and + led her away. Tommie, watching her from his chair, lifted his little white + muzzle as his playfellow looked back on passing the doorway. The long, + melancholy, farewell howl of the dog was the last sound Isabel Miller + heard as she left the house. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART2" id="link2H_PART2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART THE SECOND. + </h2> + <h3> + THE DISCOVERY. + </h3> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. + </h2> + <p> + ON the day after Isabel’s departure, diligent Mr. Troy set forth for the + Head Office in Whitehall to consult the police on the question of the + missing money. He had previously sent information of the robbery to the + Bank of England, and had also advertised the loss in the daily newspapers. + </p> + <p> + The air was so pleasant, and the sun was so bright, that he determined on + proceeding to his destination on foot. He was hardly out of sight of his + own offices when he was overtaken by a friend, who was also walking in the + direction of Whitehall. This gentleman was a person of considerable + worldly wisdom and experience; he had been officially associated with + cases of striking and notorious crime, in which Government had lent its + assistance to discover and punish the criminals. The opinion of a person + in this position might be of the greatest value to Mr. Troy, whose + practice as a solicitor had thus far never brought him into collision with + thieves and mysteries. He accordingly decided, in Isabel’s interests, on + confiding to his friend the nature of his errand to the police. Concealing + the name, but concealing nothing else, he described what had happened on + the previous day at Lady Lydiard’s house, and then put the question + plainly to his companion. + </p> + <p> + “What would you do in my place?” + </p> + <p> + “In your place,” his friend answered quietly, “I should not waste time and + money in consulting the police.” + </p> + <p> + “Not consult the police!” exclaimed Mr. Troy in amazement. “Surely, I have + not made myself understood? I am going to the Head Office; and I have got + a letter of introduction to the chief inspector in the detective + department. I am afraid I omitted to mention that?” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn’t make any difference,” proceeded the other, as coolly as ever. + “You have asked for my advice, and I give you my advice. Tear up your + letter of introduction, and don’t stir a step further in the direction of + Whitehall.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy began to understand. “You don’t believe in the detective police?” + he said. + </p> + <p> + “Who <i>can</i> believe in them, who reads his newspaper and remembers + what he reads?” his friend rejoined. “Fortunately for the detective + department, the public in general forgets what it reads. Go to your club, + and look at the criminal history of our own time, recorded in the + newspapers. Every crime is more or less a mystery. You will see that the + mysteries which the police discover are, almost without exception, + mysteries made penetrable by the commonest capacity, through the + extraordinary stupidity exhibited in the means taken to hide the crime. On + the other hand, let the guilty man or woman be a resolute and intelligent + person, capable of setting his (or her) wits fairly against the wits of + the police—in other words, let the mystery really <i>be</i> a + mystery—and cite me a case if you can (a really difficult and + perplexing case) in which the criminal has not escaped. Mind! I don’t + charge the police with neglecting their work. No doubt they do their best, + and take the greatest pains in following the routine to which they have + been trained. It is their misfortune, not their fault, that there is no + man of superior intelligence among them—I mean no man who is + capable, in great emergencies, of placing himself above conventional + methods, and following a new way of his own. There have been such men in + the police—men naturally endowed with that faculty of mental + analysis which can decompose a mystery, resolve it into its component + parts, and find the clue at the bottom, no matter how remote from ordinary + observation it may be. But those men have died, or have retired. One of + them would have been invaluable to you in the case you have just mentioned + to me. As things are, unless you are wrong in believing in the young + lady’s innocence, the person who has stolen that bank-note will be no easy + person to find. In my opinion, there is only one man now in London who is + likely to be of the slightest assistance to you—and he is not in the + police.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is he?” asked Mr. Troy. + </p> + <p> + “An old rogue, who was once in your branch of the legal profession,” the + friend answered. “You may, perhaps, remember the name: they call him ‘Old + Sharon.’” + </p> + <p> + “What! The scoundrel who was struck off the Roll of Attorneys, years + since? Is he still alive?” + </p> + <p> + “Alive and prospering. He lives in a court or lane running out of Long + Acre, and he offers advice to persons interested in recovering missing + objects of any sort. Whether you have lost your wife, or lost your + cigar-case, Old Sharon is equally useful to you. He has an inbred capacity + for reading the riddle the right way in cases of mystery, great or small. + In short, he possesses exactly that analytical faculty to which I alluded + just now. I have his address at my office, if you think it worth while to + try him.” + </p> + <p> + “Who can trust such a man?” Mr. Troy objected. “He would be sure to + deceive me.” + </p> + <p> + “You are entirely mistaken. Since he was struck off the Rolls Old Sharon + has discovered that the straight way is, on the whole, the best way, even + in a man’s own interests. His consultation fee is a guinea; and he gives a + signed estimate beforehand for any supplementary expenses that may follow. + I can tell you (this is, of course, strictly between ourselves) that the + authorities at my office took his advice in a Government case that puzzled + the police. We approached him, of course, through persons who were to be + trusted to represent us, without betraying the source from which their + instructions were derived; and we found the old rascal’s advice well worth + paying for. It is quite likely that he may not succeed so well in your + case. Try the police, by all means; and, if they fail, why, there is + Sharon as a last resort.” + </p> + <p> + This arrangement commended itself to Mr. Troy’s professional caution. He + went on to Whitehall, and he tried the detective police. + </p> + <p> + They at once adopted the obvious conclusion to persons of ordinary + capacity—the conclusion that Isabel was the thief. + </p> + <p> + Acting on this conviction, the authorities sent an experienced woman from + the office to Lady Lydiard’s house, to examine the poor girl’s clothes and + ornaments before they were packed up and sent after her to her aunt’s. The + search led to nothing. The only objects of any value that were discovered + had been presents from Lady Lydiard. No jewelers’ or milliners’ bills were + among the papers found in her desk. Not a sign of secret extravagance in + dress was to be seen anywhere. Defeated so far, the police proposed next + to have Isabel privately watched. There might be a prodigal lover + somewhere in the background, with ruin staring him in the face unless he + could raise five hundred pounds. Lady Lydiard (who had only consented to + the search under stress of persuasive argument from Mr. Troy) resented + this ingenious idea as an insult. She declared that if Isabel was watched + the girl should know of it instantly from her own lips. The police + listened with perfect resignation and decorum, and politely shifted their + ground. A certain suspicion (they remarked) always rested in cases of this + sort on the servants. Would her Ladyship object to private inquiries into + the characters and proceedings of the servants? Her Ladyship instantly + objected, in the most positive terms. Thereupon the “Inspector” asked for + a minute’s private conversation with Mr. Troy. “The thief is certainly a + member of Lady Lydiard’s household,” this functionary remarked, in his + politely-positive way. “If her Ladyship persists in refusing to let us + make the necessary inquiries, our hands are tied, and the case comes to an + end through no fault of ours. If her Ladyship changes her mind, perhaps + you will drop me a line, sir, to that effect. Good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + So the experiment of consulting the police came to an untimely end. The + one result obtained was the expression of purblind opinion by the + authorities of the detective department which pointed to Isabel, or to one + of the servants, as the undiscovered thief. Thinking the matter over in + the retirement of his own office—and not forgetting his promise to + Isabel to leave no means untried of establishing her innocence—Mr. + Troy could see but one alternative left to him. He took up his pen, and + wrote to his friend at the Government office. There was nothing for it now + but to run the risk, and try Old Sharon. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. + </h2> + <p> + THE next day, Mr. Troy (taking Robert Moody with him as a valuable + witness) rang the bell at the mean and dirty lodging-house in which Old + Sharon received the clients who stood in need of his advice. + </p> + <p> + They were led up stairs to a back room on the second floor of the house. + Entering the room, they discovered through a thick cloud of tobacco smoke, + a small, fat, bald-headed, dirty, old man, in an arm-chair, robed in a + tattered flannel dressing-gown, with a short pipe in his mouth, a pug-dog + on his lap, and a French novel in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Is it business?” asked Old Sharon, speaking in a hoarse, asthmatical + voice, and fixing a pair of bright, shameless, black eyes attentively on + the two visitors. + </p> + <p> + “It <i>is</i> business,” Mr. Troy answered, looking at the old rogue who + had disgraced an honorable profession, as he might have looked at a + reptile which had just risen rampant at his feet. “What is your fee for a + consultation?” + </p> + <p> + “You give me a guinea, and I’ll give you half an hour.” With this reply + Old Sharon held out his unwashed hand across the rickety ink-splashed + table at which he was sitting. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy would not have touched him with the tips of his own fingers for a + thousand pounds. He laid the guinea on the table. + </p> + <p> + Old Sharon burst into a fierce laugh—a laugh strangely accompanied + by a frowning contraction of his eyebrows, and a frightful exhibition of + the whole inside of his mouth. “I’m not clean enough for you—eh?” he + said, with an appearance of being very much amused. “There’s a dirty old + man described in this book that is a little like me.” He held up his + French novel. “Have you read it? A capital story—well put together. + Ah, you haven’t read it? You have got a pleasure to come. I say, do you + mind tobacco-smoke? I think faster while I smoke—that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy’s respectable hand waved a silent permission to smoke, given + under dignified protest. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Old Sharon. “Now, get on.” + </p> + <p> + He laid himself back in his chair, and puffed out his smoke, with eyes + lazily half closed, like the eyes of the pug-dog on his lap. At that + moment, indeed there was a curious resemblance between the two. They both + seemed to be preparing themselves, in the same idle way, for the same + comfortable nap. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy stated the circumstances under which the five hundred pound note + had disappeared, in clear and consecutive narrative. When he had done, Old + Sharon suddenly opened his eyes. The pug-dog suddenly opened his eyes. Old + Sharon looked hard at Mr. Troy. The pug looked hard at Mr. Troy. Old + Sharon spoke. The pug growled. + </p> + <p> + “I know who you are—you’re a lawyer. Don’t be alarmed! I never saw + you before; and I don’t know your name. What I do know is a lawyer’s + statement of facts when I hear it. Who’s this?” Old Sharon looked + inquisitively at Moody as he put the question. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy introduced Moody as a competent witness, thoroughly acquainted + with the circumstances, and ready and willing to answer any questions + relating to them. Old Sharon waited a little, smoking hard and thinking + hard. “Now, then!” he burst out in his fiercely sudden way. “I’m going to + get to the root of the matter.” + </p> + <p> + He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, and began his examination + of Moody. Heartily as Mr. Troy despised and disliked the old rogue, he + listened with astonishment and admiration—literally extorted from + him by the marvelous ability with which the questions were adapted to the + end in view. In a quarter of an hour Old Sharon had extracted from the + witness everything, literally everything down to the smallest detail, that + Moody could tell him. Having now, in his own phrase, “got to the root of + the matter,” he relighted his pipe with a grunt of satisfaction, and laid + himself back in his old armchair. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Mr. Troy. “Have you formed your opinion?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I’ve formed my opinion.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + Instead of replying, Old Sharon winked confidentially at Mr. Troy, and put + a question on his side. + </p> + <p> + “I say! is a ten-pound note much of an object to you?” + </p> + <p> + “It depends on what the money is wanted for,” answered Mr. Troy. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” said Old Sharon; “I give you an opinion for your guinea; but, + mind this, it’s an opinion founded on hearsay—and you know as a + lawyer what that is worth. Venture your ten pounds—in plain English, + pay me for my time and trouble in a baffling and difficult case—and + I’ll give you an opinion founded on my own experience.” + </p> + <p> + “Explain yourself a little more clearly,” said Mr. Troy. “What do you + guarantee to tell us if we venture the ten pounds?” + </p> + <p> + “I guarantee to name the person, or the persons, on whom the suspicion + really rests. And if you employ me after that, I guarantee (before you pay + me a halfpenny more) to prove that I am right by laying my hand on the + thief.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us have the guinea opinion first,” said Mr. Troy. + </p> + <p> + Old Sharon made another frightful exhibition of the whole inside of his + mouth; his laugh was louder and fiercer than ever. “I like you!” he said + to Mr. Troy, “you are so devilish fond of your money. Lord! how rich you + must be! Now listen. Here’s the guinea opinion: Suspect, in this case, the + very last person on whom suspicion could possibly fall.” + </p> + <p> + Moody, listening attentively, started, and changed color at those last + words. Mr. Troy looked thoroughly disappointed and made no attempt to + conceal it. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “All?” retorted the cynical vagabond. “You’re a pretty lawyer! What more + can I say, when I don’t know for certain whether the witness who has given + me my information has misled me or not? Have I spoken to the girl and + formed my own opinion? No! Have I been introduced among the servants (as + errand-boy, or to clean the boots and shoes, or what not), and have I + formed my own judgement of <i>them?</i> No! I take your opinions for + granted, and I tell you how I should set to work myself if they were <i>my</i> + opinions too—and that’s a guinea’s-worth, a devilish good + guinea’s-worth to a rich man like you!” + </p> + <p> + Old Sharon’s logic produced a certain effect on Mr. Troy, in spite of + himself. It was smartly put from his point of view—there was no + denying that. + </p> + <p> + “Even if I consented to your proposal,” he said, “I should object to your + annoying the young lady with impertinent questions, or to your being + introduced as a spy into a respectable house.” + </p> + <p> + Old Sharon doubled his dirty fists and drummed with them on the rickety + table in a comical frenzy of impatience while Mr. Troy was speaking. + </p> + <p> + “What the devil do you know about my way of doing my business?” he burst + out when the lawyer had done. “One of us two is talking like a born idiot—and + (mind this) it isn’t me. Look here! Your young lady goes out for a walk, + and she meets with a dirty, shabby old beggar—I look like a shabby + old beggar already, don’t I? Very good. This dirty old wretch whines and + whimpers and tells a long story, and gets sixpence out of the girl—and + knows her by that time, inside and out, as well as if he had made her—and, + mark! hasn’t asked her a single question, and, instead of annoying her, + has made her happy in the performance of a charitable action. Stop a bit! + I haven’t done with you yet. Who blacks your boots and shoes? Look here!” + He pushed his pug-dog off his lap, dived under the table, appeared again + with an old boot and a bottle of blackening, and set to work with tigerish + activity. “I’m going out for a walk, you know, and I may as well make + myself smart.” With that announcement, he began to sing over his work—a + song of sentiment, popular in England in the early part of the present + century—“She’s all my fancy painted her; she’s lovely, she’s divine; + but her heart it is another’s; and it never can be mine! + Too-ral-loo-ral-loo’. I like a love-song. Brush away! brush away! till I + see my own pretty face in the blacking. Hey! Here’s a nice, harmless, + jolly old man! sings and jokes over his work, and makes the kitchen quite + cheerful. What’s that you say? He’s a stranger, and don’t talk to him too + freely. You ought to be ashamed of yourself to speak in that way of a poor + old fellow with one foot in the grave. Mrs. Cook will give him a nice bit + of dinner in the scullery; and John Footman will look out an old coat for + him. And when he’s heard everything he wants to hear, and doesn’t come + back again the next day to his work—what do they think of it in the + servants’ hall? Do they say, ‘We’ve had a spy among us!’ Yah! you know + better than that, by this time. The cheerful old man has been run over in + the street, or is down with the fever, or has turned up his toes in the + parish dead-house—that’s what they say in the servants’ hall. Try me + in your own kitchen, and see if your servants take me for a spy. Come, + come, Mr. Lawyer! out with your ten pounds, and don’t waste any more + precious time about it!” + </p> + <p> + “I will consider and let you know,” said Mr. Troy. + </p> + <p> + Old Sharon laughed more ferociously than ever, and hobbled round the table + in a great hurry to the place at which Moody was sitting. He laid one hand + on the steward’s shoulder, and pointed derisively with the other to Mr. + Troy. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Mr. Silent-man! Bet you five pounds I never hear of that lawyer + again!” + </p> + <p> + Silently attentive all through the interview (except when he was answering + questions), Moody only replied in the fewest words. “I don’t bet,” was all + he said. He showed no resentment at Sharon’s familiarity, and he appeared + to find no amusement in Sharon’s extraordinary talk. The old vagabond + seemed actually to produce a serious impression on him! When Mr. Troy set + the example of rising to go, he still kept his seat, and looked at the + lawyer as if he regretted leaving the atmosphere of tobacco smoke reeking + in the dirty room. + </p> + <p> + “Have you anything to say before we go?” Mr. Troy asked. + </p> + <p> + Moody rose slowly and looked at Old Sharon. “Not just now, sir,” he + replied, looking away again, after a moment’s reflection. + </p> + <p> + Old Sharon interpreted Moody’s look and Moody’s reply from his own + peculiar point of view. He suddenly drew the steward away into a corner of + the room. + </p> + <p> + “I say!” he began, in a whisper. “Upon your solemn word of honor, you know—are + you as rich as the lawyer there?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here! It’s half price to a poor man. If you feel like coming back, + on your own account—five pounds will do from <i>you</i>. There! + there! Think of it!—think of it!” + </p> + <p> + “Now, then!” said Mr. Troy, waiting for his companion, with the door open + in his hand. He looked back at Sharon when Moody joined him. The old + vagabond was settled again in his armchair, with his dog in his lap, his + pipe in his mouth, and his French novel in his hand; exhibiting exactly + the picture of frowzy comfort which he had presented when his visitors + first entered the room. + </p> + <p> + “Good-day,” said Mr. Troy, with haughty condescension. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t interrupt me!” rejoined Old Sharon, absorbed in his novel. “You’ve + had your guinea’s worth. Lord! what a lovely book this is! Don’t interrupt + me!” + </p> + <p> + “Impudent scoundrel!” said Mr. Troy, when he and Moody were in the street + again. “What could my friend mean by recommending him? Fancy his expecting + me to trust him with ten pounds! I consider even the guinea completely + thrown away.” + </p> + <p> + “Begging your pardon, sir,” said Moody, “I don’t quite agree with you + there.” + </p> + <p> + “What! you don’t mean to tell me you understand that oracular sentence of + his—‘Suspect the very last person on whom suspicion could possibly + fall.’ Rubbish!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t say I understand it, sir. I only say it has set me thinking.” + </p> + <p> + “Thinking of what? Do your suspicions point to the thief?” + </p> + <p> + “If you will please to excuse me, Mr. Troy, I should like to wait a while + before I answer that.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy suddenly stood still, and eyed his companion a little + distrustfully. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to turn detective-policeman on your own account?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “There’s nothing I won’t turn to, and try, to help Miss Isabel in this + matter,” Moody answered, firmly. “I have saved a few hundred pounds in + Lady Lydiard’s service, and I am ready to spend every farthing of it, if I + can only discover the thief.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy walked on again. “Miss Isabel seems to have a good friend in + you,” he said. He was (perhaps unconsciously) a little offended by the + independent tone in which the steward spoke, after he had himself engaged + to take the vindication of the girl’s innocence into his own hands. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Isabel has a devoted servant and slave in me!” Moody answered, with + passionate enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “Very creditable; I haven’t a word to say against it,” Mr. Troy rejoined. + “But don’t forget that the young lady has other devoted friends besides + you. I am her devoted friend, for instance—I have promised to serve + her, and I mean to keep my word. You will excuse me for adding that my + experience and discretion are quite as likely to be useful to her as your + enthusiasm. I know the world well enough to be careful in trusting + strangers. It will do you no harm, Mr. Moody, to follow my example.” + </p> + <p> + Moody accepted his reproof with becoming patience and resignation. “If you + have anything to propose, sir, that will be of service to Miss Isabel,” he + said, “I shall be happy if I can assist you in the humblest capacity.” + </p> + <p> + “And if not?” Mr. Troy inquired, conscious of having nothing to propose as + he asked the question. + </p> + <p> + “In that case, sir, I must take my own course, and blame nobody but myself + if it leads me astray.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy said no more: he parted from Moody at the next turning. + </p> + <p> + Pursuing the subject privately in his own mind, he decided on taking the + earliest opportunity of visiting Isabel at her aunt’s house, and on + warning her, in her future intercourse with Moody, not to trust too much + to the steward’s discretion. “I haven’t a doubt,” thought the lawyer, “of + what he means to do next. The infatuated fool is going back to Old + Sharon!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. + </h2> + <p> + RETURNING to his office, Mr. Troy discovered, among the correspondence + that was waiting for him, a letter from the very person whose welfare was + still the uppermost subject in his mind. Isabel Miller wrote in these + terms: + </p> + <p> + “Dear Sir—My aunt, Miss Pink, is very desirous of consulting you + professionally at the earliest opportunity. Although South Morden is + within little more than half an hour’s railway ride from London, Miss Pink + does not presume to ask you to visit her, being well aware of the value of + your time. Will you, therefore, be so kind as to let me know when it will + be convenient to you to receive my aunt at your office in London? Believe + me, dear sir, respectfully yours, ISABEL MILLER. P.S.—I am further + instructed to say that the regrettable event at Lady Lydiard’s house is + the proposed subject of the consultation. The Lawn, South Morden. + Thursday.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy smiled as he read the letter. “Too formal for a young girl!” he + said to himself. “Every word of it has been dictated by Miss Pink.” He was + not long in deciding what course he should take. There was a pressing + necessity for cautioning Isabel, and here was his opportunity. He sent for + his head clerk, and looked at his list of engagements for the day. There + was nothing set down in the book which the clerk was not quite as well + able to do as the master. Mr. Troy consulted his railway-guide, ordered + his cab, and caught the next train to South Morden. + </p> + <p> + South Morden was then (and remains to this day) one of those primitive + agricultural villages, passed over by the march of modern progress, which + are still to be found in the near neighborhood of London. Only the slow + trains stopped at the station and there was so little to do that the + station-master and his porter grew flowers on the embankment, and trained + creepers over the waiting-room window. Turning your back on the railway, + and walking along the one street of South Morden, you found yourself in + the old England of two centuries since. Gabled cottages, with fast-closed + windows; pigs and poultry in quiet possession of the road; the venerable + church surrounded by its shady burial-ground; the grocer’s shop which sold + everything, and the butcher’s shop which sold nothing; the scarce + inhabitants who liked a good look at a stranger, and the unwashed children + who were pictures of dirty health; the clash of the iron-chained bucket in + the public well, and the thump of the falling nine-pins in the + skittle-ground behind the public-house; the horse-pond on the one bit of + open ground, and the old elm-tree with the wooden seat round it on the + other—these were some of the objects that you saw, and some of the + noises that you heard in South Morden, as you passed from one end of the + village to the other. + </p> + <p> + About half a mile beyond the last of the old cottages, modern England met + you again under the form of a row of little villas, set up by an + adventurous London builder who had bought the land a bargain. Each villa + stood in its own little garden, and looked across a stony road at the + meadow lands and softly-rising wooded hills beyond. Each villa faced you + in the sunshine with the horrid glare of new red brick, and forced its + nonsensical name on your attention, traced in bright paint on the posts of + its entrance gate. Consulting the posts as he advanced, Mr. Troy arrived + in due course of time at the villa called The Lawn, which derived its name + apparently from a circular patch of grass in front of the house. The gate + resisting his efforts to open it, he rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + Admitted by a trim, clean, shy little maid-servant, Mr. Troy looked about + him in amazement. Turn which way he might, he found himself silently + confronted by posted and painted instructions to visitors, which forbade + him to do this, and commanded him to do that, at every step of his + progress from the gate to the house. On the side of the lawn a label + informed him that he was not to walk on the grass. On the other side a + painted hand pointed along a boundary-wall to an inscription which warned + him to go that way if he had business in the kitchen. On the gravel walk + at the foot of the housesteps words, neatly traced in little white shells, + reminded him not to “forget the scraper”. On the doorstep he was informed, + in letters of lead, that he was “Welcome!” On the mat in the passage + bristly black words burst on his attention, commanding him to “wipe his + shoes.” Even the hat-stand in the hall was not allowed to speak for + itself; it had “Hats and Cloaks” inscribed on it, and it issued its + directions imperatively in the matter of your wet umbrella—“Put it + here!” + </p> + <p> + Giving the trim little servant his card, Mr. Troy was introduced to a + reception-room on the lower floor. Before he had time to look round him + the door was opened again from without, and Isabel stole into the room on + tiptoe. She looked worn and anxious. When she shook hands with the old + lawyer the charming smile that he remembered so well was gone. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t say you have seen me,” she whispered. “I am not to come into the + room till my aunt sends for me. Tell me two things before I run away + again. How is Lady Lydiard? And have you discovered the thief?” + </p> + <p> + “Lady Lydiard was well when I last saw her; and we have not yet succeeded + in discovering the thief.” Having answered the questions in those terms, + Mr. Troy decided on cautioning Isabel on the subject of the steward while + he had the chance. “One question on my side,” he said, holding her back + from the door by the arm. “Do you expect Moody to visit you here?” + </p> + <p> + “I am <i>sure</i> he will visit me,” Isabel answered warmly. “He has + promised to come here at my request. I never knew what a kind heart Robert + Moody had till this misfortune fell on me. My aunt, who is not easily + taken with strangers, respects and admires him. I can’t tell you how good + he was to me on the journey here—and how kindly, how nobly, he spoke + to me when we parted.” She paused, and turned her head away. The tears + were rising in her eyes. “In my situation,” she said faintly, “kindness is + very keenly felt. Don’t notice me, Mr. Troy.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer waited a moment to let her recover herself. + </p> + <p> + “I agree entirely, my dear, in your opinion of Moody,” he said. “At the + same time, I think it right to warn you that his zeal in your service may + possibly outrun his discretion. He may feel too confidently about + penetrating the mystery of the missing money; and, unless you are on your + guard, he may raise false hopes in you when you next see him. Listen to + any advice that he may give you, by all means. But, before you decide on + being guided by his opinion, consult my older experience, and hear what I + have to say on the subject. Don’t suppose that I am attempting to make you + distrust this good friend,” he added, noticing the look of uneasy surprise + which Isabel fixed on him. “No such idea is in my mind. I only warn you + that Moody’s eagerness to be of service to you may mislead him. You + understand me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” replied Isabel coldly; “I understand you. Please let me go + now. My aunt will be down directly; and she must not find me here.” She + curtseyed with distant respect, and left the room. + </p> + <p> + “So much for trying to put two ideas together into a girl’s mind!” thought + Mr. Troy, when he was alone again. “The little fool evidently thinks I am + jealous of Moody’s place in her estimation. Well! I have done my duty—and + I can do no more.” + </p> + <p> + He looked round the room. Not a chair was out of its place, not a speck of + dust was to be seen. The brightly-perfect polish of the table made your + eyes ache; the ornaments on it looked as if they had never been touched by + mortal hand; the piano was an object for distant admiration, not an + instrument to be played on; the carpet made Mr. Troy look nervously at the + soles of his shoes; and the sofa (protected by layers of white + crochet-work) said as plainly as if in words, “Sit on me if you dare!” Mr. + Troy retreated to a bookcase at the further end of the room. The books + fitted the shelves to such absolute perfection that he had some difficulty + in taking one of them out. When he had succeeded, he found himself in + possession of a volume of the History of England. On the fly-leaf he + encountered another written warning:—“This book belongs to Miss + Pink’s Academy for Young Ladies, and is not to be removed from the + library.” The date, which was added, referred to a period of ten years + since. Miss Pink now stood revealed as a retired schoolmistress, and Mr. + Troy began to understand some of the characteristic peculiarities of that + lady’s establishment which had puzzled him up to the present time. + </p> + <p> + He had just succeeded in putting the book back again when the door opened + once more, and Isabel’s aunt entered the room. + </p> + <p> + If Miss Pink could, by any possible conjuncture of circumstances, have + disappeared mysteriously from her house and her friends, the police would + have found the greatest difficulty in composing the necessary description + of the missing lady. The acutest observer could have discovered nothing + that was noticeable or characteristic in her personal appearance. The pen + of the present writer portrays her in despair by a series of negatives. + She was not young, she was not old; she was neither tall nor short, nor + stout nor thin; nobody could call her features attractive, and nobody + could call them ugly; there was nothing in her voice, her expression, her + manner, or her dress that differed in any appreciable degree from the + voice, expression, manner, and dress of five hundred thousand other single + ladies of her age and position in the world. If you had asked her to + describe herself, she would have answered, “I am a gentlewoman”; and if + you had further inquired which of her numerous accomplishments took + highest rank in her own esteem, she would have replied, “My powers of + conversation.” For the rest, she was Miss Pink, of South Morden; and, when + that has been said, all has been said. + </p> + <p> + “Pray be seated, sir. We have had a beautiful day, after the + long-continued wet weather. I am told that the season is very unfavorable + for wall-fruit. May I offer you some refreshment after your journey?” In + these terms and in the smoothest of voices, Miss Pink opened the + interview. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy made a polite reply, and added a few strictly conventional + remarks on the beauty of the neighborhood. Not even a lawyer could sit in + Miss Pink’s presence, and hear Miss Pink’s conversation, without feeling + himself called upon (in the nursery phrase) to “be on his best behavior”. + </p> + <p> + “It is extremely kind of you, Mr. Troy, to favor me with this visit,” Miss + Pink resumed. “I am well aware that the time of professional gentlemen is + of especial value to them; and I will therefore ask you to excuse me if I + proceed abruptly to the subject on which I desire to consult your + experience.” + </p> + <p> + Here the lady modestly smoothed out her dress over her knees, and the + lawyer made a bow. Miss Pink’s highly-trained conversation had perhaps one + fault—it was not, strictly speaking, conversation at all. In its + effect on her hearers it rather resembled the contents of a fluently + conventional letter, read aloud. + </p> + <p> + “The circumstances under which my niece Isabel has left Lady Lydiard’s + house,” Miss Pink proceeded, “are so indescribably painful—I will go + further, I will say so deeply humiliating—that I have forbidden her + to refer to them again in my presence, or to mention them in the future to + any living creature besides myself. You are acquainted with those + circumstances, Mr. Troy; and you will understand my indignation when I + first learnt that my sister’s child had been suspected of theft. I have + not the honor of being acquainted with Lady Lydiard. She is not a + Countess, I believe? Just so! Her husband was only a Baron. I am not + acquainted with Lady Lydiard; and I will not trust myself to say what I + think of her conduct to my niece.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, madam,” Mr. Troy interposed. “Before you say any more about + Lady Lydiard, I really must beg leave to observe—” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon <i>me</i>,” Miss Pink rejoined. “I never form a hasty judgment. + Lady Lydiard’s conduct is beyond the reach of any defense, no matter how + ingenious it may be. You may not be aware, sir, that in receiving my niece + under her roof her Ladyship was receiving a gentlewoman by birth as well + as by education. My late lamented sister was the daughter of a clergyman + of the Church of England. I need hardly remind you that, as such, she was + a born lady. Under favoring circumstances, Isabel’s maternal grandfather + might have been Archbishop of Canterbury, and have taken precedence of the + whole House of Peers, the Princes of the blood Royal alone excepted. I am + not prepared to say that my niece is equally well connected on her + father’s side. My sister surprised—I will not add shocked—us + when she married a chemist. At the same time, a chemist is not a + tradesman. He is a gentleman at one end of the profession of Medicine, and + a titled physician is a gentleman at the other end. That is all. In + inviting Isabel to reside with her, Lady Lydiard, I repeat, was bound to + remember that she was associating herself with a young gentlewoman. She + has <i>not</i> remembered this, which is one insult; and she has suspected + my niece of theft, which is another.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink paused to take breath. Mr. Troy made a second attempt to get a + hearing. + </p> + <p> + “Will you kindly permit me, madam, to say a few words?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” said Miss Pink, asserting the most immovable obstinacy under the + blandest politeness of manner. “Your time, Mr. Troy, is really too + valuable! Not even your trained intellect can excuse conduct which is + manifestly <i>in</i>excusable on the face of it. Now you know my opinion + of Lady Lydiard, you will not be surprised to hear that I decline to trust + her Ladyship. She may, or she may not, cause the necessary inquiries to be + made for the vindication of my niece’s character. In a matter so serious + as this—I may say, in a duty which I owe to the memories of my + sister and my parents—I will not leave the responsibility to Lady + Lydiard. I will take it on myself. Let me add that I am able to pay the + necessary expenses. The earlier years of my life, Mr. Troy, have been + passed in the tuition of young ladies. I have been happy in meriting the + confidence of parents; and I have been strict in observing the golden + rules of economy. On my retirement, I have been able to invest a modest, a + very modest, little fortune in the Funds. A portion of it is at the + service of my niece for the recovery of her good name; and I desire to + place the necessary investigation confidentially in your hands. You are + acquainted with the case, and the case naturally goes to you. I could not + prevail on myself—I really could not prevail on myself—to + mention it to a stranger. That is the business on which I wished to + consult you. Please say nothing more about Lady Lydiard—the subject + is inexpressibly disagreeable to me. I will only trespass on your kindness + to tell me if I have succeeded in making myself understood.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink leaned back in her chair, at the exact angle permitted by the + laws of propriety; rested her left elbow on the palm of her right hand, + and lightly supported her cheek with her forefinger and thumb. In this + position she waited Mr. Troy’s answer—the living picture of human + obstinacy in its most respectable form. + </p> + <p> + If Mr. Troy had not been a lawyer—in other words, if he had not been + professionally capable of persisting in his own course, in the face of + every conceivable difficulty and discouragement—Miss Pink might have + remained in undisturbed possession of her own opinions. As it was, Mr. + Troy had got his hearing at last; and no matter how obstinately she might + close her eyes to it, Miss Pink was now destined to have the other side of + the case presented to her view. + </p> + <p> + “I am sincerely obliged to you, madam, for the expression of your + confidence in me,” Mr. Troy began; “at the same time, I must beg you to + excuse me if I decline to accept your proposal.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink had not expected to receive such an answer as this. The lawyer’s + brief refusal surprised and annoyed her. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you decline to assist me?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Because,” answered Mr. Troy, “my services are already engaged, in Miss + Isabel’s interest, by a client whom I have served for more than twenty + years. My client is—” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink anticipated the coming disclosure. “You need not trouble + yourself, sir, to mention your client’s name,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “My client,” persisted Mr. Troy, “loves Miss Isabel dearly.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a matter of opinion,” Miss Pink interposed. + </p> + <p> + “And believes in Miss Isabel’s innocence,” proceeded the irrepressible + lawyer, “as firmly as you believe in it yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink (being human) had a temper; and Mr. Troy had found his way to + it. + </p> + <p> + “If Lady Lydiard believes in my niece’s innocence,” said Miss Pink, + suddenly sitting bolt upright in her chair, “why has my niece been + compelled, in justice to herself, to leave Lady Lydiard’s house?” + </p> + <p> + “You will admit, madam,” Mr. Troy answered cautiously, “that we are all of + us liable, in this wicked world, to be the victims of appearances. Your + niece is a victim—an innocent victim. She wisely withdraws from Lady + Lydiard’s house until appearances are proved to be false and her position + is cleared up.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink had her reply ready. “That is simply acknowledging, in other + words, that my niece is suspected. I am only a woman, Mr. Troy—but + it is not quite so easy to mislead me as you seem to suppose.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy’s temper was admirably trained. But it began to acknowledge that + Miss Pink’s powers of irritation could sting to some purpose. + </p> + <p> + “No intention of misleading you, madam, has ever crossed my mind,” he + rejoined warmly. “As for your niece, I can tell you this. In all my + experience of Lady Lydiard, I never saw her so distressed as she was when + Miss Isabel left the house!” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said Miss Pink, with an incredulous smile. “In my rank of life, + when we feel distressed about a person, we do our best to comfort that + person by a kind letter or an early visit. But then I am not a lady of + title.” + </p> + <p> + “Lady Lydiard engaged herself to call on Miss Isabel in my hearing,” said + Mr. Troy. “Lady Lydiard is the most generous woman living!” + </p> + <p> + “Lady Lydiard is here!” cried a joyful voice on the other side of the + door. + </p> + <p> + At the same moment, Isabel burst into the room in a state of excitement + which actually ignored the formidable presence of Miss Pink. “I beg your + pardon, aunt! I was upstairs at the window, and I saw the carriage stop at + the gate. And Tommie has come, too! The darling saw me at the window!” + cried the poor girl, her eyes sparkling with delight as a perfect + explosion of barking made itself heard over the tramp of horses’ feet and + the crash of carriage wheels outside. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink rose slowly, with a dignity that looked capable of adequately + receiving—not one noble lady only, but the whole peerage of England. + </p> + <p> + “Control yourself, dear Isabel,” she said. “No well-bred young lady + permits herself to become unduly excited. Stand by my side—a little + behind me.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel obeyed. Mr. Troy kept his place, and privately enjoyed his triumph + over Miss Pink. If Lady Lydiard had been actually in league with him, she + could not have chosen a more opportune time for her visit. A momentary + interval passed. The carriage drew up at the door; the horses trampled on + the gravel; the bell rung madly; the uproar of Tommie, released from the + carriage and clamoring to be let in, redoubled its fury. Never before had + such an unruly burst of noises invaded the tranquility of Miss Pink’s + villa! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. + </h2> + <p> + THE trim little maid-servant ran upstairs from her modest little kitchen, + trembling at the terrible prospect of having to open the door. Miss Pink, + deafened by the barking, had just time to say, “What a very ill-behaved + dog!” when a sound of small objects overthrown in the hall, and a + scurrying of furious claws across the oil-cloth, announced that Tommie had + invaded the house. As the servant appeared, introducing Lady Lydiard, the + dog ran in. He made one frantic leap at Isabel, which would certainly have + knocked her down but for the chair that happened to be standing behind + her. Received on her lap, the faithful creature half smothered her with + his caresses. He barked, he shrieked, in his joy at seeing her again. He + jumped off her lap and tore round and round the room at the top of his + speed; and every time he passed Miss Pink he showed the whole range of his + teeth and snarled ferociously at her ankles. Having at last exhausted his + superfluous energy, he leaped back again on Isabel’s lap, with his tongue + quivering in his open mouth—his tail wagging softly, and his eye on + Miss Pink, inquiring how she liked a dog in her drawing-room! + </p> + <p> + “I hope my dog has not disturbed you, ma’am?” said Lady Lydiard, advancing + from the mat at the doorway, on which she had patiently waited until the + raptures of Tommie subsided into repose. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink, trembling between terror and indignation, acknowledged Lady + Lydiard’s polite inquiry by a ceremonious bow, and an answer which + administered by implication a dignified reproof. “Your Ladyship’s dog does + not appear to be a very well-trained animal,” the ex-schoolmistress + remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Well trained?” Lady Lydiard repeated, as if the expression was perfectly + unintelligible to her. “I don’t think you have had much experience of + dogs, ma’am.” She turned to Isabel, and embraced her tenderly. “Give me a + kiss, my dear—you don’t know how wretched I have been since you left + me.” She looked back again at Miss Pink. “You are not, perhaps, aware, + ma’am, that my dog is devotedly attached to your niece. A dog’s love has + been considered by many great men (whose names at the moment escape me) as + the most touching and disinterested of all earthly affections.” She looked + the other way, and discovered the lawyer. “How do you do, Mr. Troy? It’s a + pleasant surprise to find you here The house was so dull without Isabel + that I really couldn’t put off seeing her any longer. When you are more + used to Tommie, Miss Pink, you will understand and admire him. <i>You</i> + understand and admire him, Isabel—don’t you? My child! you are not + looking well. I shall take you back with me, when the horses have had + their rest. We shall never be happy away from each other.” + </p> + <p> + Having expressed her sentiments, distributed her greetings, and defended + her dog—all, as it were, in one breath—Lady Lydiard sat down + by Isabel’s side, and opened a large green fan that hung at her girdle. + “You have no idea, Miss Pink, how fat people suffer in hot weather,” said + the old lady, using her fan vigorously. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink’s eyes dropped modestly to the ground—“fat” was such a + coarse word to use, if a lady <i>must</i> speak of her own superfluous + flesh! “May I offer some refreshment?” Miss Pink asked, mincingly. “A cup + of tea?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “A glass of water?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard declined this last hospitable proposal with an exclamation of + disgust. “Have you got any beer?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your Ladyship’s pardon,” said Miss Pink, doubting the evidence of + her own ears. “Did you say—beer?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard gesticulated vehemently with her fan. “Yes, to be sure! Beer! + beer!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink rose, with a countenance expressive of genteel disgust, and rang + the bell. “I think you have beer downstairs, Susan?” she said, when the + maid appeared at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, miss.” + </p> + <p> + “A glass of beer for Lady Lydiard,” said Miss Pink—under protest. + </p> + <p> + “Bring it in a jug,” shouted her Ladyship, as the maid left the room. “I + like to froth it up for myself,” she continued, addressing Miss Pink. + “Isabel sometimes does it for me, when she is at home—don’t you, my + dear?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink had been waiting her opportunity to assert her own claim to the + possession of her own niece, from the time when Lady Lydiard had coolly + declared her intention of taking Isabel back with her. The opportunity now + presented itself. + </p> + <p> + “Your Ladyship will pardon me,” she said, “if I remark that my niece’s + home is under my humble roof. I am properly sensible, I hope, of your + kindness to Isabel, but while she remains the object of a disgraceful + suspicion she remains with me.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard closed her fan with an angry snap. + </p> + <p> + “You are completely mistaken, Miss Pink. You may not mean it—but you + speak most unjustly if you say that your niece is an object of suspicion + to me, or to anybody in my house.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy, quietly listening up to this point now interposed to stop the + discussion before it could degenerate into a personal quarrel. His keen + observation, aided by his accurate knowledge of his client’s character, + had plainly revealed to him what was passing in Lady Lydiard’s mind. She + had entered the house, feeling (perhaps unconsciously) a jealousy of Miss + Pink, as her predecessor in Isabel’s affections, and as the natural + protectress of the girl under existing circumstances. Miss Pink’s + reception of her dog had additionally irritated the old lady. She had + taken a malicious pleasure in shocking the schoolmistress’s sense of + propriety—and she was now only too ready to proceed to further + extremities on the delicate question of Isabel’s justification for leaving + her house. For Isabel’s own sake, therefore—to say nothing of other + reasons—it was urgently desirable to keep the peace between the two + ladies. With this excellent object in view, Mr. Troy seized his + opportunity of striking into the conversation for the first time. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, Lady Lydiard,” he said, “you are speaking of a subject which + has been already sufficiently discussed between Miss Pink and myself. I + think we shall do better not to dwell uselessly on past events, but to + direct our attention to the future. We are all equally satisfied of the + complete rectitude of Miss Isabel’s conduct, and we are all equally + interested in the vindication of her good name.” + </p> + <p> + Whether these temperate words would of themselves have exercised the + pacifying influence at which Mr. Troy aimed may be doubtful. But, as he + ceased speaking, a powerful auxiliary appeared in the shape of the beer. + Lady Lydiard seized on the jug, and filled the tumbler for herself with an + unsteady hand. Miss Pink, trembling for the integrity of her carpet, and + scandalized at seeing a peeress drinking beer like a washer-woman, forgot + the sharp answer that was just rising to her lips when the lawyer + interfered. “Small!” said Lady Lydiard, setting down the empty tumbler, + and referring to the quality of the beer. “But very pleasant and + refreshing. What’s the servant’s name? Susan? Well, Susan, I was dying of + thirst and you have saved my life. You can leave the jug—I dare say + I shall empty it before I go.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy, watching Miss Pink’s face, saw that it was time to change the + subject again. + </p> + <p> + “Did you notice the old village, Lady Lydiard, on your way here?” he + asked. “The artists consider it one of the most picturesque places in + England.” + </p> + <p> + “I noticed that it was a very dirty village,” Lady Lydiard answered, still + bent on making herself disagreeable to Miss Pink. “The artists may say + what they please; I see nothing to admire in rotten cottages, and bad + drainage, and ignorant people. I suppose the neighborhood has its + advantages. It looks dull enough, to my mind.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel had hitherto modestly restricted her exertions to keeping Tommie + quiet on her lap. Like Mr. Troy, she occasionally looked at her aunt—and + she now made a timid attempt to defend the neighborhood as a duty that she + owed to Miss Pink. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my Lady! don’t say it’s a dull neighborhood,” she pleaded. “There are + such pretty walks all round us. And, when you get to the hills, the view + is beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard’s answer to this was a little masterpiece of good-humored + contempt. She patted Isabel’s cheek, and said, “Pooh! Pooh!” + </p> + <p> + “Your Ladyship does not admire the beauties of Nature,” Miss Pink + remarked, with a compassionate smile. “As we get older, no doubt our sight + begins to fail—” + </p> + <p> + “And we leave off canting about the beauties of Nature,” added Lady + Lydiard. “I hate the country. Give me London, and the pleasures of + society.” + </p> + <p> + “Come! come! Do the country justice, Lady Lydiard!” put in peace-making + Mr. Troy. “There is plenty of society to be found out of London—as + good society as the world can show.” + </p> + <p> + “The sort of society,” added Miss Pink, “which is to be found, for + example, in this neighborhood. Her Ladyship is evidently not aware that + persons of distinction surround us, whichever way we turn. I may instance + among others, the Honorable Mr. Hardyman—” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard, in the act of pouring out a second glassful of beer, + suddenly set down the jug. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that you’re talking of, Miss Pink?” + </p> + <p> + “I am talking of our neighbor, Lady Lydiard—the Honorable Mr. + Hardyman.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean Alfred Hardyman—the man who breeds the horses?” + </p> + <p> + “The distinguished gentleman who owns the famous stud-farm,” said Miss + Pink, correcting the bluntly-direct form in which Lady Lydiard had put her + question. + </p> + <p> + “Is he in the habit of visiting here?” the old lady inquired, with a + sudden appearance of anxiety. “Do you know him?” + </p> + <p> + “I had the honor of being introduced to Mr. Hardyman at our last flower + show,” Miss Pink replied. “He has not yet favored me with a visit.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard’s anxiety appeared to be to some extent relieved. + </p> + <p> + “I knew that Hardyman’s farm was in this county,” she said; “but I had no + notion that it was in the neighborhood of South Morden. How far away is he—ten + or a dozen miles, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Not more than three miles,” answered Miss Pink. “We consider him quite a + near neighbor of ours.” + </p> + <p> + Renewed anxiety showed itself in Lady Lydiard. She looked round sharply at + Isabel. The girl’s head was bent so low over the rough head of the dog + that her face was almost entirely concealed from view. So far as + appearances went, she seemed to be entirely absorbed in fondling Tommie. + Lady Lydiard roused her with a tap of the green fan. + </p> + <p> + “Take Tommie out, Isabel, for a run in the garden,” she said. “He won’t + sit still much longer—and he may annoy Miss Pink. Mr. Troy, will you + kindly help Isabel to keep my ill-trained dog in order?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy got on his feet, and, not very willingly, followed Isabel out of + the room. “They will quarrel now, to a dead certainty!” he thought to + himself, as he closed the door. “Have you any idea of what this means?” he + said to his companion, as he joined her in the hall. “What has Mr. + Hardyman done to excite all this interest in him?” + </p> + <p> + Isabel’s guilty color rose. She knew perfectly well that Hardyman’s + unconcealed admiration of her was the guiding motive of Lady Lydiard’s + inquiries. If she had told the truth, Mr. Troy would have unquestionably + returned to the drawing-room, with or without an acceptable excuse for + intruding himself. But Isabel was a woman; and her answer, it is needless + to say, was “I don’t know, I’m sure.” + </p> + <p> + In the mean time, the interview between the two ladies began in a manner + which would have astonished Mr. Troy—they were both silent. For once + in her life Lady Lydiard was considering what she should say, before she + said it. Miss Pink, on her side, naturally waited to hear what object her + Ladyship had in view—waited, until her small reserve of patience + gave way. Urged by irresistible curiosity, she spoke first. + </p> + <p> + “Have you anything to say to me in private?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard had not got to the end of her reflections. She said “Yes!”—and + she said no more. + </p> + <p> + “Is it anything relating to my niece?” persisted Miss Pink. + </p> + <p> + Still immersed in her reflections, Lady Lydiard suddenly rose to the + surface, and spoke her mind, as usual. + </p> + <p> + “About your niece, ma’am. The other day Mr. Hardyman called at my house, + and saw Isabel.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Miss Pink, politely attentive, but not in the least + interested, so far. + </p> + <p> + “That’s not all ma’am. Mr. Hardyman admires Isabel; he owned it to me + himself in so many words.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink listened, with a courteous inclination of her head. She looked + mildly gratified, nothing more. Lady Lydiard proceeded: + </p> + <p> + “You and I think differently on many matters,” she said. “But we are both + agreed, I am sure, in feeling the sincerest interest in Isabel’s welfare. + I beg to suggest to you, Miss Pink, that Mr. Hardyman, as a near neighbor + of yours, is a very undesirable neighbor while Isabel remains in your + house.” + </p> + <p> + Saying those words, under a strong conviction of the serious importance of + the subject, Lady Lydiard insensibly recovered the manner and resumed the + language which befitted a lady of her rank. Miss Pink, noticing the + change, set it down to an expression of pride on the part of her visitor + which, in referring to Isabel, assailed indirectly the social position of + Isabel’s aunt. + </p> + <p> + “I fail entirely to understand what your Ladyship means,” she said coldly. + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard, on her side, looked in undisguised amazement at Miss Pink. + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t I told you already that Mr. Hardyman admires your niece?” she + asked. + </p> + <p> + “Naturally,” said Miss Pink. “Isabel inherits her lamented mother’s + personal advantages. If Mr. Hardyman admires her, Mr. Hardyman shows his + good taste.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard’s eyes opened wider and wider in wonder. “My good lady!” she + exclaimed, “is it possible you don’t know that when a man admires a women + he doesn’t stop there? He falls in love with her (as the saying is) next.” + </p> + <p> + “So I have heard,” said Miss Pink. + </p> + <p> + “So you have <i>heard?</i>” repeated Lady Lydiard. “If Mr. Hardyman finds + his way to Isabel I can tell you what you will <i>see</i>. Catch the two + together, ma’am—and you will see Mr. Hardyman making love to your + niece.” + </p> + <p> + “Under due restrictions, Lady Lydiard, and with my permission first + obtained, of course, I see no objection to Mr. Hardyman paying his + addresses to Isabel.” + </p> + <p> + “The woman is mad!” cried Lady Lydiard. “Do you actually suppose, Miss + Pink, that Alfred Hardyman could, by any earthly possibility, marry your + niece!” + </p> + <p> + Not even Miss Pink’s politeness could submit to such a question as this. + She rose indignantly from her chair. “As you aware, Lady Lydiard, that the + doubt you have just expressed is an insult to my niece, and a insult to + Me?” + </p> + <p> + “Are <i>you</i> aware of who Mr. Hardyman really is?” retorted her + Ladyship. “Or do you judge of his position by the vocation in life which + he has perversely chosen to adopt? I can tell you, if you do, that Alfred + Hardyman is the younger son of one of the oldest barons in the English + Peerage, and that his mother is related by marriage to the Royal family of + Wurtemberg.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink received the full shock of this information without receding + from her position by a hair-breadth. + </p> + <p> + “An English gentlewoman offers a fit alliance to any man living who seeks + her hand in marriage,” said Miss Pink. “Isabel’s mother (you may not be + aware of it) was the daughter of an English clergyman—” + </p> + <p> + “And Isabel’s father was a chemist in a country town,” added Lady Lydiard. + </p> + <p> + “Isabel’s father,” rejoined Miss Pink, “was attached in a most responsible + capacity to the useful and honorable profession of Medicine. Isabel is, in + the strictest sense of the word, a young gentlewoman. If you contradict + that for a single instant, Lady Lydiard, you will oblige me to leave the + room.” + </p> + <p> + Those last words produced a result which Miss Pink had not anticipated—they + roused Lady Lydiard to assert herself. As usual in such cases, she rose + superior to her own eccentricity. Confronting Miss Pink, she now spoke and + looked with the gracious courtesy and the unpresuming self-confidence of + the order to which she belonged. + </p> + <p> + “For Isabel’s own sake, and for the quieting of my conscience,” she + answered, “I will say one word more, Miss Pink, before I relieve you of my + presence. Considering my age and my opportunities, I may claim to know + quite as much as you do of the laws and customs which regulate society in + our time. Without contesting your niece’s social position—and + without the slightest intention of insulting you—I repeat that the + rank which Mr. Hardyman inherits makes it simply impossible for him even + to think of marrying Isabel. You will do well not to give him any + opportunities of meeting with her alone. And you will do better still + (seeing that he is so near a neighbor of yours) if you permit Isabel to + return to my protection, for a time at least. I will wait to hear from you + when you have thought the matter over at your leisure. In the mean time, + if I have inadvertently offended you, I ask your pardon—and I wish + you good-evening.” + </p> + <p> + She bowed, and walked to the door. Miss Pink, as resolute as ever in + maintaining her pretensions, made an effort to match the great lady on her + own ground. + </p> + <p> + “Before you go, Lady Lydiard, I beg to apologize if I have spoken too + warmly on my side,” she said. “Permit me to send for your carriage.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Miss Pink. My carriage is only at the village inn. I shall + enjoy a little walk in the cool evening air. Mr. Troy, I have no doubt, + will give me his arm.” She bowed once more, and quietly left the room. + </p> + <p> + Reaching the little back garden of the villa, through an open door at the + further end of the hall, Lady Lydiard found Tommie rolling luxuriously on + Miss Pink’s flower-beds, and Isabel and Mr. Troy in close consultation on + the gravel walk. + </p> + <p> + She spoke to the lawyer first. + </p> + <p> + “They are baiting the horses at the inn,” she said. “I want your arm, Mr. + Troy, as far as the village—and, in return, I will take you back to + London with me. I have to ask your advice about one or two little matters, + and this is a good opportunity.” + </p> + <p> + “With the greatest pleasure, Lady Lydiard. I suppose I must say good-by to + Miss Pink?” + </p> + <p> + “A word of advice to you, Mr. Troy. Take care how you ruffle Miss Pink’s + sense of her own importance. Another word for your private ear. Miss Pink + is a fool.” + </p> + <p> + On the lawyer’s withdrawal, Lady Lydiard put her arm fondly round Isabel’s + waist. “What were you and Mr. Troy so busy in talking about?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “We were talking, my Lady, about tracing the person who stole the money,” + Isabel answered, rather sadly. “It seems a far more difficult matter than + I supposed it to be. I try not to lose patience and hope—but it is a + little hard to feel that appearances are against me, and to wait day after + day in vain for the discovery that is to set me right.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a dear good child,” said Lady Lydiard; “and you are more precious + to me than ever. Don’t despair, Isabel. With Mr. Troy’s means of + inquiring, and with my means of paying, the discovery of the thief cannot + be much longer delayed. If you don’t return to me soon, I shall come back + and see you again. Your aunt hates the sight of me—but I don’t care + two straws for that,” remarked Lady Lydiard, showing the undignified side + of her character once more. “Listen to me, Isabel! I have no wish to lower + your aunt in your estimation, but I feel far more confidence in your good + sense than in hers. Mr. Hardyman’s business has taken him to France for + the present. It is at least possible that you may meet with him on his + return. If you do, keep him at a distance, my dear—politely, of + course. There! there! you needn’t turn red; I am not blaming you; I am + only giving you a little good advice. In your position you cannot possibly + be too careful. Here is Mr. Troy! You must come to the gate with us, + Isabel, or we shall never get Tommie away from you; I am only his second + favorite; you have the first place in his affections. God bless and + prosper you, my child!—I wish to heaven you were going back to + London with me! Well, Mr. Troy, how have you done with Miss Pink? Have you + offended that terrible ‘gentlewoman’ (hateful word!); or has it been all + the other way, and has she given you a kiss at parting?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy smiled mysteriously, and changed the subject. His brief parting + interview with the lady of the house was not of a nature to be rashly + related. Miss Pink had not only positively assured him that her visitor + was the most ill-bred woman she had ever met with, but had further accused + Lady Lydiard of shaking her confidence in the aristocracy of her native + country. “For the first time in my life,” said Miss Pink, “I feel that + something is to be said for the Republican point of view; and I am not + indisposed to admit that the constitution of the United States <i>has</i> + its advantages!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. + </h2> + <p> + THE conference between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy, on the way back to + London, led to some practical results. + </p> + <p> + Hearing from her legal adviser that the inquiry after the missing money + was for a moment at a standstill, Lady Lydiard made one of those bold + suggestions with which she was accustomed to startle her friends in cases + of emergency. She had heard favorable reports of the extraordinary + ingenuity of the French police; and she now proposed sending to Paris for + assistance, after first consulting her nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir. “Felix + knows Paris as well as he knows London,” she remarked. “He is an idle man, + and it is quite likely that he will relieve us of all trouble by taking + the matter into his own hands. In any case, he is sure to know who are the + right people to address in our present necessity. What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy, in reply, expressed his doubts as to the wisdom of employing + foreigners in a delicate investigation which required an accurate + knowledge of English customs and English character. Waiving this + objection, he approved of the idea of consulting her Ladyship’s nephew. + “Mr. Sweetsir is a man of the world,” he said. “In putting the case before + him, we are sure to have it presented to us from a new point of view.” + Acting on this favorable expression of opinion, Lady Lydiard wrote to her + nephew. On the day after the visit to Miss Pink, the proposed council of + three was held at Lady Lydiard’s house. + </p> + <p> + Felix, never punctual at keeping an appointment, was even later than usual + on this occasion. He made his apologies with his hand pressed upon his + forehead, and his voice expressive of the languor and discouragement of a + suffering man. + </p> + <p> + “The beastly English climate is telling on my nerves,” said Mr. Sweetsir—“the + horrid weight of the atmosphere, after the exhilarating air of Paris; the + intolerable dirt and dullness of London, you know. I was in bed, my dear + aunt, when I received your letter. You may imagine the completely + demoralised state I was in, when I tell you of the effect which the news + of the robbery produced on me. I fell back on my pillow, as if I had been + shot. Your Ladyship should really be a little more careful in + communicating these disagreeable surprises to a sensitively-organised man. + Never mind—my valet is a perfect treasure; he brought me some drops + of ether on a lump of sugar. I said, ‘Alfred’ (his name is Alfred), ‘put + me into my clothes!’ Alfred put me in. I assure you it reminded me of my + young days, when I was put into my first pair of trousers. Has Alfred + forgotten anything? Have I got my braces on? Have I come out in my + shirt-sleeves? Well, dear aunt;—well, Mr. Troy!—what can I + say? What can I do?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard, entirely without sympathy for nervous suffering, nodded to + the lawyer. “You tell him,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I speak for her Ladyship,” Mr. Troy began, “when I say that we + should like to hear, in the first place, how the whole case strikes you, + Mr. Sweetsir?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell it me all over again,” said Felix. + </p> + <p> + Patient Mr. Troy told it all over again—and waited for the result. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Felix. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Mr. Troy. “Where does the suspicion of robbery rest in your + opinion? You look at the theft of the bank-note with a fresh eye.” + </p> + <p> + “You mentioned a clergyman just now,” said Felix. “The man, you know, to + whom the money was sent. What was his name?” + </p> + <p> + “The Reverend Samuel Bradstock.” + </p> + <p> + “You want me to name the person whom I suspect?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if you please,” said Mr. Troy. + </p> + <p> + “I suspect the Reverend Samuel Bradstock,” said Felix. + </p> + <p> + “If you have come here to make stupid jokes,” interposed Lady Lydiard, + “you had better go back to your bed again. We want a serious opinion.” + </p> + <p> + “You <i>have</i> a serious opinion,” Felix coolly rejoined. “I never was + more in earnest in my life. Your Ladyship is not aware of the first + principle to be adopted in cases of suspicion. One proceeds on what I will + call the exhaustive system of reasoning. Thus: Does suspicion point to the + honest servants downstairs? No. To your Ladyship’s adopted daughter? + Appearances are against the poor girl; but you know her better than to + trust to appearances. Are you suspicious of Moody? No. Of Hardyman—who + was in the house at the time? Ridiculous! But I was in the house at the + time, too. Do you suspect Me? Just so! That idea is ridiculous, too. Now + let us sum up. Servants, adopted daughter, Moody, Hardyman, Sweetsir—all + beyond suspicion. Who is left? The Reverend Samuel Bradstock.” + </p> + <p> + This ingenious exposition of “the exhaustive system of reasoning,” failed + to produce any effect on Lady Lydiard. “You are wasting our time,” she + said sharply. “You know as well as I do that you are talking nonsense.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t,” said Felix. “Taking the gentlemanly professions all round, I + know of no men who are so eager to get money, and who have so few scruples + about how they get it, as the parsons. Where is there a man in any other + profession who perpetually worries you for money?—who holds the bag + under your nose for money?—who sends his clerk round from door to + door to beg a few shillings of you, and calls it an ‘Easter offering’? The + parson does all this. Bradstock is a parson. I put it logically. Bowl me + over, if you can.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy attempted to “bowl him over,” nevertheless. Lady Lydiard wisely + interposed. + </p> + <p> + “When a man persists in talking nonsense,” she said, “silence is the best + answer; anything else only encourages him.” She turned to Felix. “I have a + question to ask you,” she went on. “You will either give me a serious + reply, or wish me good-morning.” With this brief preface, she made her + inquiry as to the wisdom and possibility of engaging the services of the + French police. + </p> + <p> + Felix took exactly the view of the matter which had been already expressed + by Mr. Troy. “Superior in intelligence,” he said, “but not superior in + courage, to the English police. Capable of performing wonders on their own + ground and among their own people. But, my dear aunt, the two most + dissimilar nations on the face of the earth are the English and the + French. The French police may speak our language—but they are + incapable of understanding our national character and our national + manners. Set them to work on a private inquiry in the city of Pekin—and + they would get on in time with the Chinese people. Set them to work in the + city of London—and the English people would remain, from first to + last, the same impenetrable mystery to them. In my belief the London + Sunday would be enough of itself to drive them back to Paris in despair. + No balls, no concerts, no theaters, not even a museum or a picture-gallery + open; every shop shut up but the gin-shop; and nothing moving but the + church bells and the men who sell the penny ices. Hundreds of Frenchmen + come to see me on their first arrival in England. Every man of them rushes + back to Paris on the second Saturday of his visit, rather than confront + the horrors of a second Sunday in London! However, you can try it if you + like. Send me a written abstract of the case, and I will forward it to one + of the official people in the Rue Jerusalem, who will do anything he can + to oblige me. Of course,” said Felix, turning to Mr. Troy, “some of you + have got the number of the lost bank-note? If the thief has tried to pass + it in Paris, my man may be of some use to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Three of us have got the number of the note,” answered Mr. Troy; “Miss + Isabel Miller, Mr. Moody, and myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said Felix. “Send me the number, with the abstract of the + case. Is there anything else I can do towards recovering the money?” he + asked, turning to his aunt. “There is one lucky circumstance in connection + with this loss—isn’t there? It has fallen on a person who is rich + enough to take it easy. Good heavens! suppose it had been <i>my</i> loss!” + </p> + <p> + “It has fallen doubly on me,” said Lady Lydiard; “and I am certainly not + rich enough to take it <i>that</i> easy. The money was destined to a + charitable purpose; and I have felt it my duty to pay it again.” + </p> + <p> + Felix rose and approached his aunt’s chair with faltering steps, as became + a suffering man. He took Lady Lydiard’s hand and kissed it with + enthusiastic admiration. + </p> + <p> + “You excellent creature!” he said. “You may not think it, but you + reconcile me to human nature. How generous! how noble! I think I’ll go to + bed again, Mr. Troy, if you really don’t want any more of me. My head + feels giddy and my legs tremble under me. It doesn’t matter; I shall feel + easier when Alfred has taken me out of my clothes again. God bless you, my + dear aunt! I never felt so proud of being related to you as I do to-day. + Good-morning Mr. Troy! Don’t forget the abstract of the case; and don’t + trouble yourself to see me to the door. I dare say I shan’t tumble + downstairs; and, if I do, there’s the porter in the hall to pick me up + again. Enviable porter! as fat as butter and as idle as a pig! <i>Au + revoir! au revoir!</i>” He kissed his hand, and drifted feebly out of the + room. Sweetsir one might say, in a state of eclipse; but still the + serviceable Sweetsir, who was never consulted in vain by the fortunate + people privileged to call him friend! + </p> + <p> + “Is he really ill, do you think?” Mr. Troy asked. + </p> + <p> + “My nephew has turned fifty,” Lady Lydiard answered, “and he persists in + living as if he was a young man. Every now and then Nature says to him, + ‘Felix, you are old!’ And Felix goes to bed, and says it’s his nerves.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he is to be trusted to keep his word about writing to Paris?” + pursued the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! He may delay doing it but he will do it. In spite of his + lackadaisical manner, he has moments of energy that would surprise you. + Talking of surprises, I have something to tell you about Moody. Within the + last day or two there has been a marked change in him—a change for + the worse.” + </p> + <p> + “You astonish me, Lady Lydiard! In what way has Moody deteriorated?” + </p> + <p> + “You shall hear. Yesterday was Friday. You took him out with you, on + business, early in the morning.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy bowed, and said nothing. He had not thought it desirable to + mention the interview at which Old Sharon had cheated him of his guinea. + </p> + <p> + “In the course of the afternoon,” pursued Lady Lydiard, “I happened to + want him, and I was informed that Moody had gone out again. Where had he + gone? Nobody knew. Had he left word when he would be back? He had left no + message of any sort. Of course, he is not in the position of an ordinary + servant. I don’t expect him to ask permission to go out. But I do expect + him to leave word downstairs of the time at which he is likely to return. + When he did come back, after an absence of some hours, I naturally asked + for an explanation. Would you believe it? he simply informed me that he + had been away on business of his own; expressed no regret, and offered no + explanation—in short, spoke as if he was an independent gentleman. + You may not think it, but I kept my temper. I merely remarked that I hoped + it would not happen again. He made me a bow, and he said, ‘My business is + not completed yet, my Lady. I cannot guarantee that it may not call me + away again at a moment’s notice.’ What do you think of that? Nine people + out of ten would have given him warning to leave their service. I begin to + think I am a wonderful woman—I only pointed to the door. One does + hear sometimes of men’s brains softening in the most unexpected manner. I + have my suspicions of Moody’s brains, I can tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy’s suspicions took a different direction: they pointed along the + line of streets which led to Old Sharon’s lodgings. Discreetly silent as + to the turn which his thoughts had taken, he merely expressed himself as + feeling too much surprised to offer any opinion at all. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a little,” said Lady Lydiard, “I haven’t done surprising you yet. + You have seen a boy here in a page’s livery, I think? Well, he is a good + boy; and he has gone home for a week’s holiday with his friends. The + proper person to supply his place with the boots and shoes and other small + employments, is of course the youngest footman, a lad only a few years + older than himself. What do you think Moody does? Engages a stranger, with + the house full of idle men-servants already, to fill the page’s place. At + intervals this morning I heard them wonderfully merry in the servants hall—<i>so</i> + merry that the noise and laughter found its way upstairs to the + breakfast-room. I like my servants to be in good spirits; but it certainly + did strike me that they were getting beyond reasonable limits. I + questioned my maid, and was informed that the noise was all due to the + jokes of the strangest old man that ever was seen. In other words, to the + person whom my steward had taken it on himself to engage in the page’s + absence. I spoke to Moody on the subject. He answered in an odd, confused + way, that he had exercised his discretion to the best of his judgment and + that (if I wished it), he would tell the old man to keep his good spirits + under better control. I asked him how he came to hear of the man. He only + answered, ‘By accident, my Lady’—and not one more word could I get + out of him, good or bad. Moody engages the servants, as you know; but on + every other occasion he has invariably consulted me before an engagement + was settled. I really don’t feel at all sure about this person who has + been so strangely introduced into the house—he may be a drunkard or + a thief. I wish you would speak to Moody yourself, Mr. Troy. Do you mind + ringing the bell?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Troy rose, as a matter of course, and rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + He was by this time, it is needless to say, convinced that Moody had not + only gone back to consult Old Sharon on his own responsibility, but worse + still, had taken the unwarrantable liberty of introducing him, as a spy, + into the house. To communicate this explanation to Lady Lydiard would, in + her present humor, be simply to produce the dismissal of the steward from + her service. The only other alternative was to ask leave to interrogate + Moody privately, and, after duly reproving him, to insist on the departure + of Old Sharon as the one condition on which Mr. Troy would consent to keep + Lady Lydiard in ignorance of the truth. + </p> + <p> + “I think I shall manage better with Moody, if your Ladyship will permit me + to see him in private,” the lawyer said. “Shall I go downstairs and speak + with him in his own room?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should you trouble yourself to do that?” said her Ladyship. “See him + here; and I will go into the boudoir.” + </p> + <p> + As she made that reply, the footman appeared at the drawing-room door. + </p> + <p> + “Send Moody here,” said Lady Lydiard. + </p> + <p> + The footman’s answer, delivered at that moment, assumed an importance + which was not expressed in the footman’s words. “My Lady,” he said, “Mr. + Moody has gone out.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. + </h2> + <p> + WHILE the strange proceedings of the steward were the subject of + conversation between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy, Moody was alone in his + room, occupied in writing to Isabel. Being unwilling that any eyes but his + own should see the address, he had himself posted his letter; the time + that he had chosen for leaving the house proving, unfortunately, to be + also the time proposed by her Ladyship for his interview with the lawyer. + In ten minutes after the footman had reported his absence, Moody returned. + It was then too late to present himself in the drawing-room. In the + interval, Mr. Troy had taken his leave, and Moody’s position had dropped a + degree lower in Lady Lydiard’s estimation. + </p> + <p> + Isabel received her letter by the next morning’s post. If any + justification of Mr. Troy’s suspicions had been needed, the terms in which + Moody wrote would have amply supplied it. + </p> + <p> + “DEAR ISABEL (I hope I may call you ‘Isabel’ without offending you, in + your present trouble?)—I have a proposal to make, which, whether you + accept it or not, I beg you will keep a secret from every living creature + but ourselves. You will understand my request, when I add that these lines + relate to the matter of tracing the stolen bank-note. + </p> + <p> + “I have been privately in communication with a person in London, who is, + as I believe, the one person competent to help us in gaining our end. He + has already made many inquiries in private. With some of them I am + acquainted; the rest he has thus far kept to himself. The person to whom I + allude, particularly wishes to have half an hour’s conversation with you + in my presence. I am bound to warn you that he is a very strange and very + ugly old man; and I can only hope that you will look over his personal + appearance in consideration of what he is likely to do for your future + advantage. + </p> + <p> + “Can you conveniently meet us, at the further end of the row of villas in + which your aunt lives, the day after to-morrow, at four o’clock? Let me + have a line to say if you will keep the appointment, and if the hour named + will suit you. And believe me your devoted friend and servant, + </p> + <p> + “ROBERT MOODY.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer’s warning to her to be careful how she yielded too readily to + any proposal of Moody’s recurred to Isabel’s mind while she read those + lines. Being pledged to secrecy, she could not consult Mr. Troy—she + was left to decide for herself. + </p> + <p> + No obstacle stood in the way of her free choice of alternatives. After + their early dinner at three o’clock, Miss Pink habitually retired to her + own room “to meditate,” as she expressed it. Her “meditations” inevitably + ended in a sound sleep of some hours; and during that interval Isabel was + at liberty to do as she pleased. After considerable hesitation, her + implicit belief in Moody’s truth and devotion, assisted by a strong + feeling of curiosity to see the companion with whom the steward had + associated himself, decided Isabel on consenting to keep the appointment. + </p> + <p> + Taking up her position beyond the houses, on the day and at the hour + mentioned by Moody, she believed herself to be fully prepared for the most + unfavorable impression which the most disagreeable of all possible + strangers could produce. + </p> + <p> + But the first appearance of Old Sharon—as dirty as ever, clothed in + a long, frowzy, gray overcoat, with his pug-dog at his heels, and his + smoke-blackened pipe in his mouth, with a tan white hat on his head, which + looked as if it had been picked up in a gutter, a hideous leer in his + eyes, and a jaunty trip in his walk—took her so completely by + surprise that she could only return Moody’s friendly greeting by silently + pressing his hand. As for Moody’s companion, to look at him for a second + time was more than she had resolution to do. She kept her eyes fixed on + the pug-dog, and with good reason; as far as appearances went, he was + indisputably the nobler animal of the two. + </p> + <p> + Under the circumstances, the interview threatened to begin in a very + embarrassing manner. Moody, disheartened by Isabel’s silence, made no + attempt to set the conversation going; he looked as if he meditated a + hasty retreat to the railway station which he had just left. Fortunately, + he had at his side the right man (for once) in the right place. Old + Sharon’s effrontery was equal to any emergency. + </p> + <p> + “I am not a nice-looking old man, my dear, am I?” he said, leering at + Isabel with cunning, half-closed eyes. “Bless your heart! you’ll soon get + used to me! You see, I am the sort of color, as they say at the + linen-drapers, that doesn’t wash well. It’s all through love; upon my life + it is! Early in the present century I had my young affections blighted; + and I’ve neglected myself ever since. Disappointment takes different + forms, miss, in different men. I don’t think I have had heart enough to + brush my hair for the last fifty years. She was a magnificent woman, Mr. + Moody, and she dropped me like a hot potato. Dreadful! dreadful! Let us + pursue this painful subject no further. Ha! here’s a pretty country! + Here’s a nice blue sky! I admire the country, miss; I see so little of it, + you know. Have you any objection to walk along into the fields? The + fields, my dear, bring out all the poetry of my nature. Where’s the dog? + Here, Puggy! Puggy! hunt about, my man, and find some dog-grass. Does his + inside good, you know, after a meat diet in London. Lord! how I feel my + spirits rising in this fine air! Does my complexion look any brighter, + miss? Will you run a race with me, Mr. Moody, or will you oblige me with a + back at leap-frog? I’m not mad, my dear young lady; I’m only merry. I + live, you see, in the London stink; and the smell of the hedges and the + wild flowers is too much for me at first. It gets into my head, it does. + I’m drunk! As I live by bread, I’m drunk on fresh air! Oh! what a jolly + day! Oh! how young and innocent I do feel!” Here his innocence got the + better of him, and he began to sing, “I wish I were a little fly, in my + love’s bosom for to lie!” “Hullo! here we are on the nice soft grass! and, + oh, my gracious! there’s a bank running down into a hollow! I can’t stand + that, you know. Mr. Moody, hold my hat, and take the greatest care of it. + Here goes for a roll down the bank!” + </p> + <p> + He handed his horrible hat to the astonished Moody, laid himself flat on + the top of the bank, and deliberately rolled down it, exactly as he might + have done when he was a boy. The tails of his long gray coat flew madly in + the wind: the dog pursued him, jumping over him, and barking with delight; + he shouted and screamed in answer to the dog as he rolled over and over + faster and faster; and, when he got up, on the level ground, and called + out cheerfully to his companions standing above him, “I say, you two, I + feel twenty years younger already!”—human gravity could hold out no + longer. The sad and silent Moody smiled, and Isabel burst into fits of + laughter. + </p> + <p> + “There,” he said “didn’t I tell you you would get used to me, Miss? + There’s a deal of life left in the old man yet—isn’t there? Shy me + down my hat, Mr. Moody. And now we’ll get to business!” He turned round to + the dog still barking at his heels. “Business, Puggy!” he called out + sharply, and Puggy instantly shut up his mouth, and said no more. + </p> + <p> + “Well, now,” Old Sharon resumed when he had joined his friends and had got + his breath again, “let’s have a little talk about yourself, miss. Has Mr. + Moody told you who I am, and what I want with you? Very good. May I offer + you my arm? No! You like to be independent, don’t you? All right—I + don’t object. I am an amiable old man, I am. About this Lady Lydiard, now? + Suppose you tell me how you first got acquainted with her?” + </p> + <p> + In some surprise at this question, Isabel told her little story. Observing + Sharon’s face while she was speaking, Moody saw that he was not paying the + smallest attention to the narrative. His sharp, shameless black eyes + watched the girl’s face absently; his gross lips curled upwards in a + sardonic and self-satisfied smile. He was evidently setting a trap for her + of some kind. Without a word of warning—while Isabel was in the + middle of a sentence—the trap opened, with the opening of Old + Sharon’s lips. + </p> + <p> + “I say,” he burst out. “How came <i>you</i> to seal her Ladyship’s letter—eh?” + </p> + <p> + The question bore no sort of relation, direct or indirect, to what Isabel + happened to be saying at the moment. In the sudden surprise of hearing it, + she started and fixed her eyes in astonishment on Sharon’s face. The old + vagabond chuckled to himself. “Did you see that?” he whispered to Moody. + “I beg your pardon, miss,” he went on; “I won’t interrupt you again. Lord! + how interesting it is!—ain’t it, Mr. Moody? Please to go on, miss.” + </p> + <p> + But Isabel, though she spoke with perfect sweetness and temper, declined + to go on. “I had better tell you, sir, how I came to seal her Ladyship’s + letter,” she said. “If I may venture on giving my opinion, <i>that</i> + part of my story seems to be the only part of it which relates to your + business with me to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Without further preface she described the circumstances which had led to + her assuming the perilous responsibility of sealing the letter. Old + Sharon’s wandering attention began to wander again: he was evidently + occupied in setting another trap. For the second time he interrupted + Isabel in the middle of a sentence. Suddenly stopping short, he pointed to + some sheep, at the further end of the field through which they happened to + be passing at the moment. + </p> + <p> + “There’s a pretty sight,” he said. “There are the innocent sheep a-feeding—all + following each other as usual. And there’s the sly dog waiting behind the + gate till the sheep wants his services. Reminds me of Old Sharon and the + public!” He chuckled over the discovery of the remarkable similarity + between the sheep-dog and himself, and the sheep and the public—and + then burst upon Isabel with a second question. “I say! didn’t you look at + the letter before you sealed it?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not!” Isabel answered. + </p> + <p> + “Not even at the address?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” + </p> + <p> + “Thinking of something else—eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Very likely,” said Isabel. + </p> + <p> + “Was it your new bonnet, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + Isabel laughed. “Women are not always thinking of their new bonnets,” she + answered. + </p> + <p> + Old Sharon, to all appearance, dropped the subject there. He lifted his + lean brown forefinger and pointed again—this time to a house at a + short distance from them. “That’s a farmhouse, surely?” he said. “I’m + thirsty after my roll down the hill. Do you think, Miss, they would give + me a drink of milk?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure they would,” said Isabel. “I know the people. Shall I go and + ask them?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, my dear. One word more before you go. About the sealing of + that letter? What <i>could</i> you have been thinking of while you were + doing it?” He looked hard at her, and took her suddenly by the arm. “Was + it your sweetheart?” he asked, in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + The question instantly reminded Isabel that she had been thinking of + Hardyman while she sealed the letter. She blushed as the remembrance + crossed her mind. Robert, noticing the embarrassment, spoke sharply to Old + Sharon. “You have no right to put such a question to a young lady,” he + said. “Be a little more careful for the future.” + </p> + <p> + “There! there! don’t be hard on me,” pleaded the old rogue. “An ugly old + man like me may make his innocent little joke—eh, miss? I’m sure + you’re too sweet-tempered to be angry when I meant no offense.. Show me + that you bear no malice. Go, like a forgiving young angel, and ask for the + milk.” + </p> + <p> + Nobody appealed to Isabel’s sweetness of temper in vain. “I will do it + with pleasure,” she said—and hastened away to the farmhouse. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. + </h2> + <p> + THE instant Isabel was out of hearing, Old Sharon slapped Moody on the + shoulder to rouse his attention. “I’ve got her out of the way,” he said, + “now listen to me. My business with the young angel is done—I may go + back to London.” + </p> + <p> + Moody looked at him with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Lord! how little you know of thieves!” exclaimed Old Sharon. “Why, man + alive, I have tried her with two plain tests! If you wanted a proof of her + innocence, there it was, as plain as the nose in your face. Did you hear + me ask her how she came to seal the letter—just when her mind was + running on something else?” + </p> + <p> + “I heard you,” said Moody. + </p> + <p> + “Did you see how she started and stared at me?” + </p> + <p> + “I did.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can tell you this—if she <i>had</i> stolen the money she + would neither have started nor stared. She would have had her answer ready + beforehand in her own mind, in case of accidents. There’s only one thing + in my experience that you can never do with a thief, when a thief happens + to be a woman—you can never take her by surprise. Put that remark by + in your mind; one day you may find a use for remembering it. Did you see + her blush, and look quite hurt in her feelings, pretty dear, when I asked + about her sweetheart? Do you think a thief, in her place, would have shown + such a face as that? Not she! The thief would have been relieved. The + thief would have said to herself, ‘All right! the more the old fool talks + about sweethearts the further he is from tracing the robbery to Me!’ Yes! + yes! the ground’s cleared now, Master Moody. I’ve reckoned up the + servants; I’ve questioned Miss Isabel; I’ve made my inquiries in all the + other quarters that may be useful to us—and what’s the result? The + advice I gave, when you and the lawyer first came to me—I hate that + fellow!—remains as sound and good advice as ever. I have got the + thief in my mind,” said Old Sharon, closing his cunning eyes and then + opening them again, “as plain as I’ve got you in my eye at this minute. No + more of that now,” he went on, looking round sharply at the path that led + to the farmhouse. “I’ve something particular to say to you—and + there’s barely time to say it before that nice girl comes back. Look here! + Do you happen to be acquainted with Mr.-Honorable-Hardyman’s valet?” + </p> + <p> + Moody’s eyes rested on Old Sharon with a searching and doubtful look. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Hardyman’s valet?” he repeated. “I wasn’t prepared to hear Mr. + Hardyman’s name.” + </p> + <p> + Old Sharon looked at Moody, in his turn, with a flash of sardonic triumph. + </p> + <p> + “Oho!” he said. “Has my good boy learned his lesson? Do you see the thief + through my spectacles, already?” + </p> + <p> + “I began to see him,” Moody answered, “when you gave us the guinea opinion + at your lodgings.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you whisper his name?” asked Old Sharon. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet. I distrust my own judgment. I wait till time proves that you are + right.” + </p> + <p> + Old Sharon knitted his shaggy brows and shook his head. “If you had only a + little more dash and go in you,” he said, “you would be a clever fellow. + As it is—!” He finished the sentence by snapping his fingers with a + grin of contempt. “Let’s get to business. Are you going back by the next + train along with me? or are you going to stop with the young lady?” + </p> + <p> + “I will follow you by a later train,” Moody answered. + </p> + <p> + “Then I must give you my instructions at once,” Sharon continued. “You get + better acquainted with Hardyman’s valet. Lend him money if he wants it—stick + at nothing to make a bosom friend of him. I can’t do that part of it; my + appearance would be against me. <i>You</i> are the man—you are + respectable from the top of your hat to the tips of your boots; nobody + would suspect You. Don’t make objections! Can you fix the valet? Or can’t + you?” + </p> + <p> + “I can try,” said Moody. “And what then?” + </p> + <p> + Old Sharon put his gross lips disagreeably close to Moody’s ear. + </p> + <p> + “Your friend the valet can tell you who his master’s bankers are,” he + said; “and he can supply you with a specimen of his master’s handwriting.” + </p> + <p> + Moody drew back, as suddenly as if his vagabond companion had put a knife + to his throat. “You old villain!” he said. “Are you tempting me to + forgery?” + </p> + <p> + “You infernal fool!” retorted Old Sharon. “<i>Will</i> you hold that long + tongue of yours, and hear what I have to say. You go to Hardyman’s + bankers, with a note in Hardyman’s handwriting (exactly imitated by me) to + this effect:—‘Mr. H. presents his compliments to Messrs. So-and-So, + and is not quite certain whether a payment of five hundred pounds has been + made within the last week to his account. He will be much obliged if + Messrs. So-and-So will inform him by a line in reply, whether there is + such an entry to his credit in their books, and by whom the payment has + been made.’ You wait for the bankers’ answer, and bring it to me. It’s + just possible that the name you’re afraid to whisper may appear in the + letter. If it does, we’ve caught our man. Is <i>that</i> forgery, Mr. + Muddlehead Moody? I’ll tell you what—if I had lived to be your age, + and knew no more of the world than you do, I’d go and hang myself. Steady! + here’s our charming friend with the milk. Remember your instructions, and + don’t lose heart if my notion of the payment to the bankers comes to + nothing. I know what to do next, in that case—and, what’s more, I’ll + take all the risk and trouble on my own shoulders. Oh, Lord! I’m afraid I + shall be obliged to drink the milk, now it’s come!” + </p> + <p> + With this apprehension in his mind, he advanced to relieve Isabel of the + jug that she carried. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s a treat!” he burst out, with an affectation of joy, which was + completely belied by the expression of his dirty face. “Here’s a kind and + dear young lady, to help an old man to a drink with her own pretty hands.” + He paused, and looked at the milk very much as he might have looked at a + dose of physic. “Will anyone take a drink first?” he asked, offering the + jug piteously to Isabel and Moody. “You see, I’m not wed to genuine milk; + I’m used to chalk and water. I don’t know what effect the unadulterated + cow might have on my poor old inside.” He tasted the milk with the + greatest caution. “Upon my soul, this is too rich for me! The + unadulterated cow is a deal too strong to be drunk alone. If you’ll allow + me I’ll qualify it with a drop of gin. Here, Puggy, Puggy!” He set the + milk down before the dog; and, taking a flask out of his pocket, emptied + it at a draught. “That’s something like!” he said, smacking his lips with + an air of infinite relief. “So sorry, Miss, to have given you all your + trouble for nothing; it’s my ignorance that’s to blame, not me. I couldn’t + know I was unworthy of genuine milk till I tried—could I? And do you + know,” he proceeded, with his eyes directed slyly on the way back to the + station, “I begin to think I’m not worthy of the fresh air, either. A kind + of longing seems to come over me for the London stink. I’m home-sick + already for the soot of my happy childhood and my own dear native mud. The + air here is too thin for me, and the sky’s too clean; and—oh, Lord!—when + you’re wed to the roar of the traffic—the ‘busses and the cabs and + what not—the silence in these parts is downright awful. I’ll wish + you good evening, miss; and get back to London.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel turned to Moody with disappointment plainly expressed in her face + and manner. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all he has to say?” she asked. “You told me he could help us. You + led me to suppose he could find the guilty person.” + </p> + <p> + Sharon heard her. “I could name the guilty person,” he answered, “as + easily, miss, as I could name you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you do it then?” Isabel inquired, not very patiently + </p> + <p> + “Because the time’s not ripe for it yet, miss—that’s one reason. + Because, if I mentioned the thief’s name, as things are now, you, Miss + Isabel, would think me mad; and you would tell Mr. Moody I had cheated him + out of his money—that’s another reason. The matter’s in train, if + you will only wait a little longer.” + </p> + <p> + “So you say,” Isabel rejoined. “If you really could name the thief, I + believe you would do it now.” + </p> + <p> + She turned away with a frown on her pretty face. Old Sharon followed her. + Even his coarse sensibilities appeared to feel the irresistible ascendancy + of beauty and youth. + </p> + <p> + “I say!” he began, “we must part friends, you know—or I shall break + my heart over it. They have got milk at the farmhouse. Do you think they + have got pen, ink, and paper too?” + </p> + <p> + Isabel answered, without turning to look at him, “Of course they have!” + </p> + <p> + “And a bit of sealing-wax?” + </p> + <p> + “I daresay!” + </p> + <p> + Old Sharon laid his dirty claws on her shoulder and forced her to face him + as the best means of shaking them off. + </p> + <p> + “Come along!” he said. “I am going to pacify you with some information in + writing.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should you write it?” Isabel asked suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “Because I mean to make my own conditions, my dear, before I let you into + the secret.” + </p> + <p> + In ten minutes more they were all three in the farmhouse parlor. Nobody + but the farmer’s wife was at home. The good woman trembled from head to + foot at the sight of Old Sharon. In all her harmless life she had never + yet seen humanity under the aspect in which it was now presented to her. + “Mercy preserve us, Miss!” she whispered to Isabel, “how come you to be in + such company as <i>that?</i>” Instructed by Isabel, she produced the + necessary materials for writing and sealing—and, that done, she + shrank away to the door. “Please to excuse me, miss,” she said with a last + horrified look at her venerable visitor; “I really can’t stand the sight + of such a blot of dirt as that in my nice clean parlor.” With those words + she disappeared, and was seen no more. + </p> + <p> + Perfectly indifferent to his reception, Old Sharon wrote, inclosed what he + had written in an envelope; and sealed it (in the absence of anything + better fitted for his purpose) with the mouthpiece of his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “Now, miss,” he said, “you give me your word of honor,”—he stopped + and looked round at Moody with a grin—“and you give me yours, that + you won’t either of you break the seal on this envelope till the + expiration of one week from the present day. There are the conditions, + Miss Isabel, on which I’ll give you your information. If you stop to + dispute with me, the candle’s alight, and I’ll burn it!” + </p> + <p> + It was useless to contend with him. Isabel and Moody gave him the promise + that he required. He handed the sealed envelope to Isabel with a low bow. + “When the week’s out,” he said, “you will own I’m a cleverer fellow than + you think me now. Wish you good evening, Miss. Come along, Puggy! Farewell + to the horrid clean country, and back again to the nice London stink!” + </p> + <p> + He nodded to Moody—he leered at Isabel—he chuckled to himself—he + left the farmhouse. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. + </h2> + <p> + ISABEL looked down at the letter in her hand—considered it in + silence—and turned to Moody. “I feel tempted to open it already,” + she said. + </p> + <p> + “After giving your promise?” Moody gently remonstrated. + </p> + <p> + Isabel met that objection with a woman’s logic. + </p> + <p> + “Does a promise matter?” she asked, “when one gives it to a dirty, + disreputable, presuming old wretch like Mr. Sharon? It’s a wonder to me + that you trust such a creature. <i>I</i> wouldn’t!” + </p> + <p> + “I doubted him just as you do,” Moody answered, “when I first saw him in + company with Mr. Troy. But there was something in the advice he gave us at + that first consultation which altered my opinion of him for the better. I + dislike his appearance and his manners as much as you do—I may even + say I felt ashamed of bringing such a person to see you. And yet I can’t + think that I have acted unwisely in employing Mr. Sharon.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel listened absently. She had something more to say, and she was + considering how she should say it. “May I ask you a bold question?” she + began. + </p> + <p> + “Any question you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you—” she hesitated and looked embarrassed. “Have you paid Mr. + Sharon much money?” she resumed, suddenly rallying her courage. Instead of + answering, Moody suggested that it was time to think of returning to Miss + Pink’s villa. “Your aunt may be getting anxious about you.” he said. + </p> + <p> + Isabel led the way out of the farmhouse in silence. She reverted to Mr. + Sharon and the money, however, as they returned by the path across the + fields. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure you will not be offended with me,” she said gently, “if I own + that I am uneasy about the expense. I am allowing you to use your purse as + if it was mine—and I have hardly any savings of my own.” + </p> + <p> + Moody entreated her not to speak of it. “How can I put my money to a + better use than in serving your interests?” he asked. “My one object in + life is to relieve you of your present anxieties. I shall be the happiest + man living if you only owe a moment’s happiness to my exertions!” + </p> + <p> + Isabel took his hand, and looked at him with grateful tears in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “How good you are to me, Mr. Moody!” she said. “I wish I could tell you + how deeply I feel your kindness.” + </p> + <p> + “You can do it easily,” he answered, with a smile. “Call me ‘Robert’—don’t + call me ‘Mr. Moody.’” + </p> + <p> + She took his arm with a sudden familiarity that charmed him. “If you had + been my brother I should have called you ‘Robert,’” she said; “and no + brother could have been more devoted to me than you are.” + </p> + <p> + He looked eagerly at her bright face turned up to his. “May I never hope + to be something nearer and dearer to you than a brother?” he asked + timidly. + </p> + <p> + She hung her head and said nothing. Moody’s memory recalled Sharon’s + coarse reference to her “sweetheart.” She had blushed when he put the + question? What had she done when Moody put <i>his</i> question? Her face + answered for her—she had turned pale; she was looking more serious + than usual. Ignorant as he was of the ways of women, his instinct told him + that this was a bad sign. Surely her rising color would have confessed it, + if time and gratitude together were teaching her to love him? He sighed as + the inevitable conclusion forced itself on his mind. + </p> + <p> + “I hope I have not offended you?” he said sadly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I had not spoken. Pray don’t think that I am serving you with any + selfish motive.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think that, Robert. I never could think it of <i>you</i>.” + </p> + <p> + He was not quite satisfied yet. “Even if you were to marry some other + man,” he went on earnestly, “it would make no difference in what I am + trying to do for you. No matter what I might suffer, I should still go on—for + your sake.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you talk so?” she burst out passionately. “No other man has such a + claim as you to my gratitude and regard. How can you let such thoughts + come to you? I have done nothing in secret. I have no friends who are not + known to you. Be satisfied with that, Robert—and let us drop the + subject.” + </p> + <p> + “Never to take it up again?” he asked, with the infatuated pertinacity of + a man clinging to his last hope. + </p> + <p> + At other times and under other circumstances, Isabel might have answered + him sharply. She spoke with perfect gentleness now. + </p> + <p> + “Not for the present,” she said. “I don’t know my own heart. Give me + time.” + </p> + <p> + His gratitude caught at those words, as the drowning man is said to catch + at the proverbial straw. He lifted her hand, and suddenly and fondly + pressed his lips on it. She showed no confusion. Was she sorry for him, + poor wretch!—and was that all? + </p> + <p> + They walked on, arm-in-arm, in silence. + </p> + <p> + Crossing the last field, they entered again on the high road leading to + the row of villas in which Miss Pink lived. The minds of both were + preoccupied. Neither of them noticed a gentleman approaching on horseback, + followed by a mounted groom. He was advancing slowly, at the walking-pace + of his horse, and he only observed the two foot-passengers when he was + close to them. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Isabel!” + </p> + <p> + She started, looked up, and discovered—Alfred Hardyman. + </p> + <p> + He was dressed in a perfectly-made travelling suit of light brown, with a + peaked felt hat of a darker shade of the same color, which, in a + picturesque sense, greatly improved his personal appearance. His pleasure + at discovering Isabel gave the animation to his features which they wanted + on ordinary occasions. He sat his horse, a superb hunter, easily and + gracefully. His light amber-colored gloves fitted him perfectly. His + obedient servant, on another magnificent horse, waited behind him. He + looked the impersonation of rank and breeding—of wealth and + prosperity. What a contrast, in a woman’s eyes, to the shy, pale, + melancholy man, in the ill-fitting black clothes, with the wandering, + uneasy glances, who stood beneath him, and felt, and showed that he felt, + his inferior position keenly! In spite of herself, the treacherous blush + flew over Isabel’s face, in Moody’s presence, and with Moody’s eyes + distrustfully watching her. + </p> + <p> + “This is a piece of good fortune that I hardly hoped for,” said Hardyman, + his cool, quiet, dreary way of speaking quickened as usual, in Isabel’s + presence. “I only got back from France this morning, and I called on Lady + Lydiard in the hope of seeing you. She was not at home—and you were + in the country—and the servants didn’t know the address. I could get + nothing out of them, except that you were on a visit to a relation.” He + looked at Moody while he was speaking. “Haven’t I seen you before?” he + said, carelessly. “Yes; at Lady Lydiard’s. You’re her steward, are you + not? How d’ye do?” Moody, with his eyes on the ground, answered silently + by a bow. Hardyman, perfectly indifferent whether Lady Lydiard’s steward + spoke or not, turned on his saddle and looked admiringly at Isabel. “I + begin to think I am a lucky man at last,” he went on with a smile. “I was + jogging along to my farm, and despairing of ever seeing Miss Isabel again—and + Miss Isabel herself meets me at the roadside! I wonder whether you are as + glad to see me as I am to see you? You won’t tell me—eh? May I ask + you something else? Are you staying in our neighborhood?” + </p> + <p> + There was no alternative before Isabel but to answer this last question. + Hardyman had met her out walking, and had no doubt drawn the inevitable + inference—although he was too polite to say so in plain words. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” she answered, shyly, “I am staying in this neighborhood.” + </p> + <p> + “And who is your relation?” Hardyman proceeded, in his easy, + matter-of-course way. “Lady Lydiard told me, when I had the pleasure of + meeting you at her house, that you had an aunt living in the country. I + have a good memory, Miss Isabel, for anything that I hear about You! It’s + your aunt, isn’t it? Yes? I know everybody about hew. What is your aunt’s + name?” + </p> + <p> + Isabel, still resting her hand on Robert’s arm, felt it tremble a little + as Hardyman made this last inquiry. If she had been speaking to one of her + equals she would have known how to dispose of the question without + directly answering it. But what could she say to the magnificent gentleman + on the stately horse? He had only to send his servant into the village to + ask who the young lady from London was staying with, and the answer, in a + dozen mouths at least, would direct him to her aunt. She cast one + appealing look at Moody and pronounced the distinguished name of Miss + Pink. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Pink?” Hardyman repeated. “Surely I know Miss Pink?” (He had not the + faintest remembrances of her.) “Where did I meet her last?” (He ran over + in his memory the different local festivals at which strangers had been + introduced to him.) “Was it at the archery meeting? or at the + grammar-school when the prizes were given? No? It must have been at the + flower show, then, surely?” + </p> + <p> + It <i>had</i> been at the flower show. Isabel had heard it from Miss Pink + fifty times at least, and was obliged to admit it now. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite ashamed of never having called,” Hardyman proceeded. “The fact + is, I have so much to do. I am a bad one at paying visits. Are you on your + way home? Let me follow you and make my apologies personally to Miss + Pink.” + </p> + <p> + Moody looked at Isabel. It was only a momentary glance, but she perfectly + understood it. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid, sir, my aunt cannot have the honor of seeing you to-day,” + she said. + </p> + <p> + Hardyman was all compliance. He smiled and patted his horse’s neck. + “To-morrow, then,” he said. “My compliments, and I will call in the + afternoon. Let me see: Miss Pink lives at—?” He waited, as if he + expected Isabel to assist his treacherous memory once more. She hesitated + again. Hardyman looked round at his groom. The groom could find out the + address, even if he did not happen to know it already. Besides, there was + the little row of houses visible at the further end of the road. Isabel + pointed to the villas, as a necessary concession to good manners, before + the groom could anticipate her. “My aunt lives there, sir; at the house + called The Lawn.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! to be sure!” said Hardyman. “I oughtn’t to have wanted reminding; but + I have so many things to think of at the farm. And I am afraid I must be + getting old—my memory isn’t as good as it was. I am so glad to have + seen you, Miss Isabel. You and your aunt must come and look at my horses. + Do you like horses? Are you fond of riding? I have a quiet roan mare that + is used to carrying ladies; she would be just the thing for you. Did I beg + you to give my best compliments to your aunt? Yes? How well you are + looking! our air here agrees with you. I hope I haven’t kept you standing + too long? I didn’t think of it in the pleasure of meeting you. Good-by, + Miss Isabel; good-by, till to-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + He took off his hat to Isabel, nodded to Moody, and pursued his way to the + farm. + </p> + <p> + Isabel looked at her companion. His eyes were still on the ground. Pale, + silent, motionless, he waited by her like a dog, until she gave the signal + of walking on again towards the house. + </p> + <p> + “You are not angry with me for speaking to Mr. Hardyman?” she asked, + anxiously. + </p> + <p> + He lifted his head it the sound of her voice. “Angry with you, my dear! + why should I be angry?” + </p> + <p> + “You seem so changed, Robert, since we met Mr. Hardyman. I couldn’t help + speaking to him—could I?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not.” + </p> + <p> + They moved on towards the villa. Isabel was still uneasy. There was + something in Moody’s silent submission to all that she said and all that + she did which pained and humiliated her. “You’re not jealous?” she said, + smiling timidly. + </p> + <p> + He tried to speak lightly on his side. “I have no time to be jealous while + I have your affairs to look after,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + She pressed his arm tenderly. “Never fear, Robert, that new friends will + make me forget the best and dearest friend who is now at my side.” She + paused, and looked up at him with a compassionate fondness that was very + pretty to see. “I can keep out of the way to-morrow, when Mr. Hardyman + calls,” she said. “It is my aunt he is coming to see—not me.” + </p> + <p> + It was generously meant. But while her mind was only occupied with the + present time, Moody’s mind was looking into the future. He was learning + the hard lesson of self-sacrifice already. “Do what you think is right,” + he said quietly; “don’t think of me.” + </p> + <p> + They reached the gate of the villa. He held out his hand to say good-by. + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you come in?” she asked. “Do come in!” + </p> + <p> + “Not now, my dear. I must get back to London as soon as I can. There is + some more work to be done for you, and the sooner I do it the better.” + </p> + <p> + She heard his excuse without heeding it. + </p> + <p> + “You are not like yourself, Robert,” she said. “Why is it? What are you + thinking of?” + </p> + <p> + He was thinking of the bright blush that overspread her face when Hardyman + first spoke to her; he was thinking of the invitation to her to see the + stud-farm, and to ride the roan mare; he was thinking of the utterly + powerless position in which he stood towards Isabel and towards the + highly-born gentleman who admired her. But he kept his doubts and fears to + himself. “The train won’t wait for me,” he said, and held out his hand + once more. + </p> + <p> + She was not only perplexed; she was really distressed. “Don’t take leave + of me in that cold way!” she pleaded. Her eyes dropped before his, and her + lips trembled a little. “Give me a kiss, Robert, at parting.” She said + those bold words softly and sadly, out of the depth of her pity for him. + He started; his face brightened suddenly; his sinking hope rose again. In + another moment the change came; in another moment he understood her. As he + touched her cheek with his lips, he turned pale again. “Don’t quite forget + me,” he said, in low, faltering tones—and left her. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink met Isabel in the hall. Refreshed by unbroken repose, the + ex-schoolmistress was in the happiest frame of mind for the reception of + her niece’s news. + </p> + <p> + Informed that Moody had travelled to South Morden to personally report the + progress of the inquiries, Miss Pink highly approved of him as a + substitute for Mr. Troy. “Mr. Moody, as a banker’s son, is a gentleman by + birth,” she remarked; “he has condescended, in becoming Lady Lydiard’s + steward. What I saw of him, when he came here with you, prepossessed me in + his favor. He has my confidence, Isabel, as well as yours—he is in + every respect a superior person to Mr. Troy. Did you meet any friends, my + dear, when you were out walking?” + </p> + <p> + The answer to this question produced a species of transformation in Miss + Pink. The rapturous rank-worship of her nation feasted, so to speak, on + Hardyman’s message. She looked taller and younger than usual—she was + all smiles and sweetness. “At last, Isabel, you have seen birth and + breeding under their right aspect,” she said. “In the society of Lady + Lydiard, you cannot possibly have formed correct ideas of the English + aristocracy. Observe Mr. Hardyman when he does me the honor to call + to-morrow—and you will see the difference.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Hardyman is your visitor, aunt—not mine. I was going to ask you + to let me remain upstairs in my room.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink was unaffectedly shocked. “This is what you learn at Lady + Lydiard’s!” she observed. “No, Isabel, your absence would be a breach of + good manners—I cannot possibly permit it. You will be present to + receive our distinguished friend with me. And mind this!” added Miss Pink, + in her most impressive manner, “If Mr. Hardyman should by any chance ask + why you have left Lady Lydiard, not one word about those disgraceful + circumstances which connect you with the loss of the banknote! I should + sink into the earth if the smallest hint of what has really happened + should reach Mr. Hardyman’s ears. My child, I stand towards you in the + place of your lamented mother; I have the right to command your silence on + this horrible subject, and I do imperatively command it.” + </p> + <p> + In these words foolish Miss Pink sowed the seed for the harvest of trouble + that was soon to come. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. + </h2> + <p> + PAYING his court to the ex-schoolmistress on the next day, Hardyman made + such excellent use of his opportunities that the visit to the stud-farm + took place on the day after. His own carriage was placed at the disposal + of Isabel and her aunt; and his own sister was present to confer special + distinction on the reception of Miss Pink. + </p> + <p> + In a country like England, which annually suspends the sitting of its + Legislature in honor of a horse-race, it is only natural and proper that + the comfort of the horses should be the first object of consideration at a + stud-farm. Nine-tenths of the land at Hardyman’s farm was devoted, in one + way or another, to the noble quadruped with the low forehead and the long + nose. Poor humanity was satisfied with second-rate and third-rate + accommodation. The ornamental grounds, very poorly laid out, were also + very limited in extent—and, as for the dwelling-house, it was + literally a cottage. A parlor and a kitchen, a smoking-room, a bed-room, + and a spare chamber for a friend, all scantily furnished, sufficed for the + modest wants of the owner of the property. If you wished to feast your + eyes on luxury you went to the stables. + </p> + <p> + The stud-farm being described, the introduction to Hardyman’s sister + follows in due course. + </p> + <p> + The Honorable Lavinia Hardyman was, as all persons in society know, + married rather late in life to General Drumblade. It is saying a great + deal, but it is not saying too much, to describe Mrs. Drumblade as the + most mischievous woman of her age in all England. Scandal was the breath + of her life; to place people in false positions, to divulge secrets and + destroy characters, to undermine friendships, and aggravate enmities—these + were the sources of enjoyment from which this dangerous woman drew the + inexhaustible fund of good spirits that made her a brilliant light in the + social sphere. She was one of the privileged sinners of modern society. + The worst mischief that she could work was ascribed to her “exuberant + vitality.” She had that ready familiarity of manner which is (in <i>her</i> + class) so rarely discovered to be insolence in disguise. Her power of easy + self-assertion found people ready to accept her on her own terms wherever + she went. She was one of those big, overpowering women, with blunt + manners, voluble tongues, and goggle eyes, who carry everything before + them. The highest society modestly considered itself in danger of being + dull in the absence of Mrs. Drumblade. Even Hardyman himself—who saw + as little of her as possible, whose frankly straightforward nature + recoiled by instinct from contact with his sister—could think of no + fitter person to make Miss Pink’s reception agreeable to her, while he was + devoting his own attentions to her niece. Mrs. Drumblade accepted the + position thus offered with the most amiable readiness. In her own private + mind she placed an interpretation on her brother’s motives which did him + the grossest injustice. She believed that Hardyman’s designs on Isabel + contemplated the most profligate result. To assist this purpose, while the + girl’s nearest relative was supposed to be taking care of her, was Mrs. + Drumblade’s idea of “fun.” Her worst enemies admitted that the honorable + Lavinia had redeeming qualities, and owned that a keen sense of humor was + one of her merits. + </p> + <p> + Was Miss Pink a likely person to resist the fascinations of Mrs. + Drumblade? Alas, for the ex-schoolmistress! before she had been five + minutes at the farm, Hardyman’s sister had fished for her, caught her, + landed her. Poor Miss Pink! + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Drumblade could assume a grave dignity of manner when the occasion + called for it. She was grave, she was dignified, when Hardyman performed + the ceremonies of introduction. She would not say she was charmed to meet + Miss Pink—the ordinary slang of society was not for Miss Pink’s ears—she + would say she felt this introduction as a privilege. It was so seldom one + met with persons of trained intellect in society. Mrs. Drumblade was + already informed of Miss Pink’s earlier triumphs in the instruction of + youth. Mrs. Drumblade had not been blessed with children herself; but she + had nephews and nieces, and she was anxious about their education, + especially the nieces. What a sweet, modest girl Miss Isabel was! The + fondest wish she could form for her nieces would be that they should + resemble Miss Isabel when they grew up. The question was, as to the best + method of education. She would own that she had selfish motives in + becoming acquainted with Miss Pink. They were at the farm, no doubt, to + see Alfred’s horses. Mrs. Drumblade did not understand horses; her + interest was in the question of education. She might even confess that she + had accepted Alfred’s invitation in the hope of hearing Miss Pink’s views. + There would be opportunities, she trusted, for a little instructive + conversation on that subject. It was, perhaps, ridiculous to talk, at her + age, of feeling as if she was Miss Pink’s pupil; and yet it exactly + expressed the nature of the aspiration which was then in her mind. + </p> + <p> + In these terms, feeling her way with the utmost nicety, Mrs. Drumblade + wound the net of flattery round and round Miss Pink until her hold on that + innocent lady was, in every sense of the word, secure. Before half the + horses had been passed under review, Hardyman and Isabel were out of + sight, and Mrs. Drumblade and Miss Pink were lost in the intricacies of + the stables. “Excessively stupid of me! We had better go back, and + establish ourselves comfortably in the parlor. When my brother misses us, + he and your charming niece will return to look for us in the cottage.” + Under cover of this arrangement the separation became complete. Miss Pink + held forth on education to Mrs. Drumblade in the parlor; while Hardyman + and Isabel were on their way to a paddock at the farthest limits of the + property. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you are getting a little tired,” said Hardyman. “Won’t you + take my arm?” + </p> + <p> + Isabel was on her guard: she had not forgotten what Lady Lydiard had said + to her. “No, thank you, Mr. Hardyman; I am a better walker than you + think.” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman continued the conversation in his blunt, resolute way. “I wonder + whether you will believe me,” he asked, “if I tell you that this is one of + the happiest days of my life.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think you were always happy,” Isabel cautiously replied, “having + such a pretty place to live in as this.” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman met that answer with one of his quietly-positive denials. “A man + is never happy by himself,” he said. “He is happy with a companion. For + instance, I am happy with you.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel stopped and looked back. Hardyman’s language was becoming a little + too explicit. “Surely we have lost Mrs. Drumblade and my aunt,” she said. + “I don’t see them anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “You will see them directly; they are only a long way behind.” With this + assurance, he returned, in his own obstinate way, to his one object in + view. “Miss Isabel, I want to ask you a question. I’m not a ladies’ man. I + speak my mind plainly to everybody—women included. Do you like being + here to-day?” + </p> + <p> + Isabel’s gravity was not proof against this very downright question. “I + should be hard to please,” she said laughing, “if I didn’t enjoy my visit + to the farm.” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman pushed steadily forward through the obstacle of the farm to the + question of the farm’s master. “You like being here,” he repeated. “Do you + like Me?” + </p> + <p> + This was serious. Isabel drew back a little, and looked at him. He waited + with the most impenetrable gravity for her reply. + </p> + <p> + “I think you can hardly expect me to answer that question,” she said + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Our acquaintance has been a very short one, Mr. Hardyman. And, if <i>you</i> + are so good as to forget the difference between us, I think <i>I</i> ought + to remember it.” + </p> + <p> + “What difference?” + </p> + <p> + “The difference in rank.” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman suddenly stood still, and emphasized his next words by digging + his stick into the grass. + </p> + <p> + “If anything I have said has vexed you,” he began, “tell me so plainly, + Miss Isabel, and I’ll ask your pardon. But don’t throw my rank in my face. + I cut adrift from all that nonsense when I took this farm and got my + living out of the horses. What has a man’s rank to do with a man’s + feelings?” he went on, with another emphatic dig of his stick. “I am quite + serious in asking if you like me—for this good reason, that I like + you. Yes, I do. You remember that day when I bled the old lady’s dog—well, + I have found out since then that there’s a sort of incompleteness in my + life which I never suspected before. It’s you who have put that idea into + my head. You didn’t mean it, I dare say, but you have done it all the + same. I sat alone here yesterday evening smoking my pipe—and I + didn’t enjoy it. I breakfasted alone this morning—and I didn’t enjoy + <i>that</i>. I said to myself, She’s coming to lunch, that’s one comfort—I + shall enjoy lunch. That’s what I feel, roughly described. I don’t suppose + I’ve been five minutes together without thinking of you, now in one way + and now in another, since the day when I first saw you. When a man comes + to my time of life, and has had any experience, he knows what that means. + It means, in plain English, that his heart is set on a woman. You’re the + woman.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel had thus far made several attempts to interrupt him, without + success. But, when Hardyman’s confession attained its culminating point, + she insisted on being heard. + </p> + <p> + “If you will excuse me, sir,” she interposed gravely, “I think I had + better go back to the cottage. My aunt is a stranger here, and she doesn’t + know where to look for us.” + </p> + <p> + “We don’t want your aunt,” Hardyman remarked, in his most positive manner. + </p> + <p> + “We do want her,” Isabel rejoined. “I won’t venture to say it’s wrong in + you, Mr. Hardyman, to talk to me as you have just done, but I am quite + sure it’s very wrong of me to listen.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her with such unaffected surprise and distress that she + stopped, on the point of leaving him, and tried to make herself better + understood. + </p> + <p> + “I had no intention of offending you, sir,” she said, a little confusedly. + “I only wanted to remind you that there are some things which a gentleman + in your position—” She stopped, tried to finish the sentence, + failed, and began another. “If I had been a young lady in your own rank of + life,” she went on, “I might have thanked you for paying me a compliment, + and have given you a serious answer. As it is, I am afraid that I must say + that you have surprised and disappointed me. I can claim very little for + myself, I know. But I did imagine—so long as there was nothing + unbecoming in my conduct—that I had some right to your respect.” + </p> + <p> + Listening more and more impatiently, Hardyman took her by the hand, and + burst out with another of his abrupt questions. + </p> + <p> + “What can you possibly be thinking of?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She gave him no answer; she only looked at him reproachfully, and tried to + release herself. + </p> + <p> + Hardyman held her hand faster than ever. + </p> + <p> + “I believe you think me an infernal scoundrel!” he said. “I can stand a + good deal, Miss Isabel, but I can’t stand <i>that</i>. How have I failed + in respect toward you, if you please? I have told you you’re the woman my + heart is set on. Well? Isn’t it plain what I want of you, when I say that? + Isabel Miller, I want you to be my wife!” + </p> + <p> + Isabel’s only reply to this extraordinary proposal of marriage was a faint + cry of astonishment, followed by a sudden trembling that shook her from + head to foot. + </p> + <p> + Hardyman put his arm round her with a gentleness which his oldest friend + would have been surprised to see in him. + </p> + <p> + “Take your time to think of it,” he said, dropping back again into his + usual quiet tone. “If you had known me a little better you wouldn’t have + mistaken me, and you wouldn’t be looking at me now as if you were afraid + to believe your own ears. What is there so very wonderful in my wanting to + marry you? I don’t set up for being a saint. When I was a younger man I + was no better (and no worse) than other young men. I’m getting on now to + middle life. I don’t want romances and adventures—I want an easy + existence with a nice lovable woman who will make me a good wife. You’re + the woman, I tell you again. I know it by what I’ve seen of you myself, + and by what I have heard of you from Lady Lydiard. She said you were + prudent, and sweet-tempered, and affectionate; to which I wish to add that + you have just the face and figure that I like, and the modest manners and + the blessed absence of all slang in your talk, which I don’t find in the + young women I meet with in the present day. That’s my view of it: I think + for myself. What does it matter to me whether you’re the daughter of a + Duke or the daughter of a Dairyman? It isn’t your father I want to marry—it’s + you. Listen to reason, there’s a dear! We have only one question to settle + before we go back to your aunt. You wouldn’t answer me when I asked it a + little while since. Will you answer now? <i>Do</i> you like me?” + </p> + <p> + Isabel looked up at him timidly. + </p> + <p> + “In my position, sir,” she asked, “have I any right to like you? What + would your relations and friends think, if I said Yes?” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman gave her waist a little admonitory squeeze with his arm + </p> + <p> + “What? You’re at it again? A nice way to answer a man, to call him ‘Sir,’ + and to get behind his rank as if it was a place of refuge from him! I hate + talking of myself, but you force me to it. Here is my position in the + world—I have got an elder brother; he is married, and he has a son + to succeed him, in the title and the property. You understand, so far? + Very well! Years ago I shifted my share of the rank (whatever it may be) + on to my brother’s shoulders. He is a thorough good fellow, and he has + carried my dignity for me, without once dropping it, ever since. As for + what people may say, they have said it already, from my father and mother + downward, in the time when I took to the horses and the farm. If they’re + the wise people I take them for, they won’t be at the trouble of saying it + all over again. No, no. Twist it how you may, Miss Isabel, whether I’m + single or whether I’m married, I’m plain Alfred Hardyman; and everybody + who knows me knows that I go on my way, and please myself. If you don’t + like me, it will be the bitterest disappointment I ever had in my life; + but say so honestly, all the same.” + </p> + <p> + Where is the woman in Isabel’s place whose capacity for resistance would + not have yielded a little to such an appeal as this? + </p> + <p> + “I should be an insensible wretch,” she replied warmly, “if I didn’t feel + the honor you have done me, and feel it gratefully.” + </p> + <p> + “Does that mean you will have me for a husband?” asked downright Hardyman. + </p> + <p> + She was fairly driven into a corner; but (being a woman) she tried to slip + through his fingers at the last moment. + </p> + <p> + “Will you forgive me,” she said, “if I ask you for a little more time? I + am so bewildered, I hardly know what to say or do for the best. You see, + Mr. Hardyman, it would be a dreadful thing for me to be the cause of + giving offense to your family. I am obliged to think of that. It would be + so distressing for you (I will say nothing of myself) if your friends + closed their doors on me. They might say I was a designing girl, who had + taken advantage of your good opinion to raise herself in the world. Lady + Lydiard warned me long since not to be ambitious about myself and not to + forget my station in life, because she treated me like her adopted + daughter. Indeed—indeed, I can’t tell you how I feel your goodness, + and the compliment—the very great compliment, you pay me! My heart + is free, and if I followed my own inclinations—” She checked + herself, conscious that she was on the brink of saying too much. “Will you + give me a few days,” she pleaded, “to try if I can think composedly of all + this? I am only a girl, and I feel quite dazzled by the prospect that you + set before me.” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman seized on those words as offering all the encouragement that he + desired to his suit. + </p> + <p> + “Have your own way in this thing and in everything!” he said, with an + unaccustomed fervor of language and manner. “I am so glad to hear that + your heart is open to me, and that all your inclinations take my part.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel instantly protested against this misrepresentation of what she had + really said, “Oh, Mr. Hardyman, you quite mistake me!” + </p> + <p> + He answered her very much as he had answered Lady Lydiard, when she had + tried to make him understand his proper relations towards Isabel. + </p> + <p> + “No, no; I don’t mistake you. I agree to every word you say. How can I + expect you to marry me, as you very properly remark, unless I give you a + day or two to make up your mind? It’s quite enough for me that you like + the prospect. If Lady Lydiard treated you as her daughter, why shouldn’t + you be my wife? It stands to reason that you’re quite right to marry a man + who can raise you in the world. I like you to be ambitious—though + Heaven knows it isn’t much I can do for you, except to love you with all + my heart. Still, it’s a great encouragement to hear that her Ladyship’s + views agree with mine—” + </p> + <p> + “They don’t agree, Mr. Hardyman!” protested poor Isabel. “You are entirely + misrepresenting—” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman cordially concurred in this view of the matter. “Yes! yes! I + can’t pretend to represent her Ladyship’s language, or yours either; I am + obliged to take my words as they come to me. Don’t disturb yourself: it’s + all right—I understand. You have made me the happiest man living. I + shall ride over to-morrow to your aunt’s house, and hear what you have to + say to me. Mind you’re at home! Not a day must pass now without my seeing + you. I do love you, Isabel—I do, indeed!” He stooped, and kissed her + heartily. “Only to reward me,” he explained, “for giving you time to + think.” + </p> + <p> + She drew herself away from him—resolutely, not angrily. Before she + could make a third attempt to place the subject in its right light before + him, the luncheon bell rang at the cottage—and a servant appeared + evidently sent to look for them. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t forget to-morrow,” Hardyman whispered confidentially. “I’ll call + early—and then go to London, and get the ring.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. + </h2> + <p> + EVENTS succeeded each other rapidly, after the memorable day to Isabel of + the luncheon at the farm. + </p> + <p> + On the next day (the ninth of the month) Lady Lydiard sent for her + steward, and requested him to explain his conduct in repeatedly leaving + the house without assigning any reason for his absence. She did not + dispute his claims to a freedom of action which would not be permitted to + an ordinary servant. Her objection to his present course of proceeding + related entirely to the mystery in which it was involved, and to the + uncertainty in which the household was left as to the hour of his return. + On those grounds, she thought herself entitled to an explanation. Moody’s + habitual reserve—strengthened, on this occasion, by his dread of + ridicule, if his efforts to serve Isabel ended in failure—disinclined + him to take Lady Lydiard into his confidence, while his inquiries were + still beset with obstacles and doubts. He respectfully entreated her + Ladyship to grant him a delay of a few weeks before he entered on his + explanation. Lady Lydiard’s quick temper resented his request. She told + Moody plainly that he was guilty of an act of presumption in making his + own conditions with his employer. He received the reproof with exemplary + resignation; but he held to his conditions nevertheless. From that moment + the result of the interview was no longer in doubt. Moody was directed to + send in his accounts. The accounts having been examined, and found to be + scrupulously correct, he declined accepting the balance of salary that was + offered to him. The next day he left Lady Lydiard’s service. + </p> + <p> + On the tenth of the month her Ladyship received a letter from her nephew. + </p> + <p> + The health of Felix had not improved. He had made up his mind to go abroad + again towards the end of the month. In the meantime, he had written to his + friend in Paris, and he had the pleasure of forwarding an answer. The + letter inclosed announced that the lost five-hundred-pound note had been + made the subject of careful inquiry in Paris. It had not been traced. The + French police offered to send to London one of their best men, well + acquainted with the English language, if Lady Lydiard was desirous of + employing him. He would be perfectly willing to act with an English + officer in conducting the investigation, should it be thought necessary. + Mr. Troy being consulted as to the expediency of accepting this proposal, + objected to the pecuniary terms demanded as being extravagantly high. He + suggested waiting a little before any reply was sent to Paris; and he + engaged meanwhile to consult a London solicitor who had great experience + in cases of theft, and whose advice might enable them to dispense entirely + with the services of the French police. + </p> + <p> + Being now a free man again, Moody was able to follow his own inclinations + in regard to the instructions which he had received from Old Sharon. + </p> + <p> + The course that had been recommended to him was repellent to the + self-respect and the sense of delicacy which were among the inbred virtues + of Moody’s character. He shrank from forcing himself as a friend on + Hardyman’s valet: he recoiled from the idea of tempting the man to steal a + specimen of his master’s handwriting. After some consideration, he decided + on applying to the agent who collected the rents at Hardyman’s London + chambers. Being an old acquaintance of Moody’s, this person would + certainly not hesitate to communicate the address of Hardyman’s bankers, + if he knew it. The experiment, tried under these favoring circumstances, + proved perfectly successful. Moody proceeded to Sharon’s lodgings the same + day, with the address of the bankers in his pocketbook. The old vagabond, + greatly amused by Moody’s scruples, saw plainly enough that, so long as he + wrote the supposed letter from Hardyman in the third person, it mattered + little what handwriting was employed, seeing that no signature would be + necessary. The letter was at once composed, on the model which Sharon had + already suggested to Moody, and a respectable messenger (so far as outward + appearances went) was employed to take it to the bank. In half an hour the + answer came back. It added one more to the difficulties which beset the + inquiry after the lost money. No such sum as five hundred pounds had been + paid, within the dates mentioned, to the credit of Hardyman’s account. + </p> + <p> + Old Sharon was not in the least discomposed by this fresh check. “Give my + love to the dear young lady,” he said with his customary impudence; “and + tell her we are one degree nearer to finding the thief.” + </p> + <p> + Moody looked at him, doubting whether he was in jest or in earnest. + </p> + <p> + “Must I squeeze a little more information into that thick head of yours?” + asked Sharon. With this question he produced a weekly newspaper, and + pointed to a paragraph which reported, among the items of sporting news, + Hardyman’s recent visit to a sale of horses at a town in the north of + France. “We know he didn’t pay the bank-note in to his account,” Sharon + remarked. “What else did he do with it? Took it to pay for the horses that + he bought in France! Do you see your way a little plainer now? Very good. + Let’s try next if your money holds out. Somebody must cross the Channel in + search of the note. Which of us two is to sit in the steam-boat with a + white basin on his lap? Old Sharon, of course!” He stopped to count the + money still left, out of the sum deposited by Moody to defray the cost of + the inquiry. “All right!” he went on. “I’ve got enough to pay my expenses + there and back. Don’t stir out of London till you hear from me. I can’t + tell how soon I may not want you. If there’s any difficulty in tracing the + note, your hand will have to go into your pocket again. Can’t you get the + lawyer to join you? Lord! how I should enjoy squandering <i>his</i> money! + It’s a downright disgrace to me to have only got one guinea out of him. I + could tear my flesh off my bones when I think of it.” + </p> + <p> + The same night Old Sharon started for France, by way of Dover and Calais. + </p> + <p> + Two days elapsed, and brought no news from Moody’s agent. On the third + day, he received some information relating to Sharon—not from the + man himself, but in a letter from Isabel Miller. + </p> + <p> + “For once, dear Robert,” she wrote, “my judgment has turned out to be + sounder than yours. That hateful old man has confirmed my worst opinion of + him. Pray have him punished. Take him before a magistrate and charge him + with cheating you out of your money. I inclose the sealed letter which he + gave me at the farmhouse. The week’s time before I was to open it expired + yesterday. Was there ever anything so impudent and so inhuman? I am too + vexed and angry about the money you have wasted on this old wretch to + write more. Yours, gratefully and affectionately, Isabel.” + </p> + <p> + The letter in which Old Sharon had undertaken (by way of pacifying Isabel) + to write the name of the thief, contained these lines: + </p> + <p> + “You are a charming girl, my dear; but you still want one thing to make + you perfect—and that is a lesson in patience. I am proud and happy + to teach you. The name of the thief remains, for the present, Mr. —— + (Blank).” + </p> + <p> + From Moody’s point of view, there was but one thing to be said of this: it + was just like Old Sharon! Isabel’s letter was of infinitely greater + interest to him. He feasted his eyes on the words above the signature: she + signed herself, “Yours gratefully and affectionately.” Did the last words + mean that she was really beginning to be fond of him? After kissing the + word, he wrote a comforting letter to her, in which he pledged himself to + keep a watchful eye on Sharon, and to trust him with no more money until + he had honestly earned it first. + </p> + <p> + A week passed. Moody (longing to see Isabel) still waited in vain for news + from France. He had just decided to delay his visit to South Morden no + longer, when the errand-boy employed by Sharon brought him this message: + “The old ‘un’s at home, and waitin’ to see yer.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. + </h2> + <p> + SHARON’S news was not of an encouraging character. He had met with serious + difficulties, and had spent the last farthing of Moody’s money in + attempting to overcome them. + </p> + <p> + One discovery of importance he had certainly made. A horse withdrawn from + the sale was the only horse that had met with Hardyman’s approval. He had + secured the animal at the high reserved price of twelve thousand francs—being + four hundred and eighty pounds in English money; and he had paid with an + English bank-note. The seller (a French horse-dealer resident in Brussels) + had returned to Belgium immediately on completing the negotiations. Sharon + had ascertained his address, and had written to him at Brussels, inclosing + the number of the lost banknote. In two days he had received an answer, + informing him that the horse-dealer had been called to England by the + illness of a relative, and that he had hitherto failed to send any address + to which his letters could be forwarded. Hearing this, and having + exhausted his funds, Sharon had returned to London. It now rested with + Moody to decide whether the course of the inquiry should follow the + horse-dealer next. Here was the cash account, showing how the money had + been spent. And there was Sharon, with his pipe in his mouth and his dog + on his lap, waiting for orders. + </p> + <p> + Moody wisely took time to consider before he committed himself to a + decision. In the meanwhile, he ventured to recommend a new course of + proceeding which Sharon’s report had suggested to his mind. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” he said, “that we have taken the roundabout way of + getting to our end in view, when the straight road lay before us. If Mr. + Hardyman has passed the stolen note, you know, as well as I do, that he + has passed it innocently. Instead of wasting time and money in trying to + trace a stranger, why not tell Mr. Hardyman what has happened, and ask him + to give us the number of the note? You can’t think of everything, I know; + but it does seem strange that this idea didn’t occur to you before you + went to France.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Moody,” said Old Sharon, “I shall have to cut your acquaintance. You + are a man without faith; I don’t like you. As if I hadn’t thought of + Hardyman weeks since!” he exclaimed contemptuously. “Are you really soft + enough to suppose that a gentleman in his position would talk about his + money affairs to me? You know mighty little of him if you do. A fortnight + since I sent one of my men (most respectably dressed) to hang about his + farm, and see what information he could pick up. My man became painfully + acquainted with the toe of a boot. It was thick, sir; and it was + Hardyman’s.” + </p> + <p> + “I will run the risk of the boot,” Moody replied, in his quiet way. + </p> + <p> + “And put the question to Hardyman?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said Sharon. “If you get your answer from his tongue, instead + of his boot, the case is cleared up—unless I have made a complete + mess of it. Look here, Moody! If you want to do me a good turn, tell the + lawyer that the guinea-opinion was the right one. Let him know that <i>he</i> + was the fool, not you, when he buttoned up his pockets and refused to + trust me. And, I say,” pursued Old Sharon, relapsing into his customary + impudence, “you’re in love, you know, with that nice girl. I like her + myself. When you marry her invite me to the wedding. I’ll make a + sacrifice; I’ll brush my hair and wash my face in honor of the occasion.” + </p> + <p> + Returning to his lodgings, Moody found two letters waiting on the table. + One of them bore the South Morden postmark. He opened that letter first. + </p> + <p> + It was written by Miss Pink. The first lines contained an urgent entreaty + to keep the circumstances connected with the loss of the five hundred + pounds the strictest secret from everyone in general, and from Hardyman in + particular. The reasons assigned for making the strange request were next + expressed in these terms: “My niece Isabel is, I am happy to inform you, + engaged to be married to Mr. Hardyman. If the slightest hint reached him + of her having been associated, no matter how cruelly and unjustly, with a + suspicion of theft, the marriage would be broken off, and the result to + herself and to everybody connected with her, would be disgrace for the + rest of our lives.” + </p> + <p> + On the blank space at the foot of the page a few words were added in + Isabel’s writing: “Whatever changes there may be in my life, your place in + my heart is one that no other person can fill: it is the place of my + dearest friend. Pray write and tell me that you are not distressed and not + angry. My one anxiety is that you should remember what I have always told + you about the state of my own feelings. My one wish is that you will still + let me love you and value you, as I might have loved and valued a + brother.” + </p> + <p> + The letter dropped from Moody’s hand. Not a word—not even a sigh—passed + his lips. In tearless silence he submitted to the pang that wrung him. In + tearless silence he contemplated the wreck of his life. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. + </h2> + <p> + THE narrative returns to South Morden, and follows the events which + attended Isabel’s marriage engagement. + </p> + <p> + To say that Miss Pink, inflated by the triumph, rose, morally speaking, + from the earth and floated among the clouds, is to indicate faintly the + effect produced on the ex-schoolmistress when her niece first informed her + of what had happened at the farm. Attacked on one side by her aunt, and on + the other by Hardyman, and feebly defended, at the best, by her own doubts + and misgivings, Isabel ended by surrendering at discretion. Like thousands + of other women in a similar position, she was in the last degree uncertain + as to the state of her own heart. To what extent she was insensibly + influenced by Hardyman’s commanding position in believing herself to be + sincerely attached to him, it was beyond her power of self-examination to + discover. He doubly dazzled her by his birth and by his celebrity. Not in + England only, but throughout Europe, he was a recognized authority on his + own subject. How could she—how could any woman—resist the + influence of his steady mind, his firmness of purpose, his manly + resolution to owe everything to himself and nothing to his rank, set off + as these attractive qualities were by the outward and personal advantages + which exercise an ascendancy of their own? Isabel was fascinated, and yet + Isabel was not at ease. In her lonely moments she was troubled by + regretful thoughts of Moody, which perplexed and irritated her. She had + always behaved honestly to him; she had never encouraged him to hope that + his love for her had the faintest prospect of being returned. Yet, + knowing, as she did, that her conduct was blameless so far, there were + nevertheless perverse sympathies in her which took his part. In the + wakeful hours of the night there were whispering voices in her which said: + “Think of Moody!” Had there been a growing kindness towards this good + friend in her heart, of which she herself was not aware? She tried to + detect it—to weigh it for what it was really worth. But it lay too + deep to be discovered and estimated, if it did really exist—if it + had any sounder origin than her own morbid fancy. In the broad light of + day, in the little bustling duties of life, she forgot it again. She could + think of what she ought to wear on the wedding day; she could even try + privately how her new signature, “Isabel Hardyman,” would look when she + had the right to use it. On the whole, it may be said that the time passed + smoothly—with some occasional checks and drawbacks, which were the + more easily endured seeing that they took their rise in Isabel’s own + conduct. Compliant as she was in general, there were two instances, among + others, in which her resolution to take her own way was not to be + overcome. She refused to write either to Moody or to Lady Lydiard + informing them of her engagement; and she steadily disapproved of Miss + Pink’s policy of concealment, in the matter of the robbery at Lady + Lydiard’s house. Her aunt could only secure her as a passive accomplice by + stating family considerations in the strongest possible terms. “If the + disgrace was confined to you, my dear, I might leave you to decide. But I + am involved in it, as your nearest relative; and, what is more, even the + sacred memories of your father and mother might feel the slur cast on + them.” This exaggerated language—like all exaggerated language, a + mischievous weapon in the arsenal of weakness and prejudice—had its + effect on Isabel. Reluctantly and sadly, she consented to be silent. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink wrote word of the engagement to Moody first; reserving to a + later day the superior pleasure of informing Lady Lydiard of the very + event which that audacious woman had declared to be impossible. To her + aunt’s surprise, just as she was about to close the envelope Isabel + stepped forward, and inconsistently requested leave to add a postscript to + the very letter which she had refused to write! Miss Pink was not even + permitted to see the postscript. Isabel secured the envelope the moment + she laid down her pen, and retired to her room with a headache (which was + heartache in disguise) for the rest of the day. + </p> + <p> + While the question of marriage was still in debate, an event occurred + which exercised a serious influence on Hardyman’s future plans. + </p> + <p> + He received a letter from the Continent which claimed his immediate + attention. One of the sovereigns of Europe had decided on making some + radical changes in the mounting and equipment of a cavalry regiment; and + he required the assistance of Hardyman in that important part of the + contemplated reform which was connected with the choice and purchase of + horses. Setting his own interests out of the question, Hardyman owed + obligations to the kindness of his illustrious correspondent which made it + impossible for him to send an excuse. In a fortnight’s time, at the + latest, it would be necessary for him to leave England; and a month or + more might elapse before it would be possible for him to return. + </p> + <p> + Under these circumstances, he proposed, in his own precipitate way, to + hasten the date of the marriage. The necessary legal delay would permit + the ceremony to be performed on that day fortnight. Isabel might then + accompany him on his journey, and spend a brilliant honeymoon at the + foreign Court. She at once refused, not only to accept his proposal, but + even to take it into consideration. While Miss Pink dwelt eloquently on + the shortness of the notice, Miss Pink’s niece based her resolution on far + more important grounds. Hardyman had not yet announced the contemplated + marriage to his parents and friends; and Isabel was determined not to + become his wife until she could be first assured of a courteous and + tolerant reception by the family—if she could hope for no warmer + welcome at their hands. + </p> + <p> + Hardyman was not a man who yielded easily, even in trifles. In the present + case, his dearest interests were concerned in inducing Isabel to + reconsider her decision. He was still vainly trying to shake her + resolution, when the afternoon post brought a letter for Miss Pink which + introduced a new element of disturbance into the discussion. The letter + was nothing less than Lady Lydiard’s reply to the written announcement of + Isabel’s engagement, despatched on the previous day by Miss Pink. + </p> + <p> + Her Ladyship’s answer was a surprisingly short one. It only contained + these lines: + </p> + <p> + “Lady Lydiard begs to acknowledge the receipt of Miss Pink’s letter + requesting that she will say nothing to Mr. Hardyman of the loss of a + bank-note in her house, and, assigning as a reason that Miss Isabel Miller + is engaged to be married to Mr. Hardyman, and might be prejudiced in his + estimation if the facts were made known. Miss Pink may make her mind easy. + Lady Lydiard had not the slightest intention of taking Mr. Hardyman into + her confidence on the subject of her domestic affairs. With regard to the + proposed marriage, Lady Lydiard casts no doubt on Miss Pink’s perfect + sincerity and good faith; but, at the same time, she positively declines + to believe that Mr. Hardyman means to make Miss Isabel Miller his wife. + Lady L. will yield to the evidence of a properly-attested certificate—and + to nothing else.” + </p> + <p> + A folded piece of paper, directed to Isabel, dropped out of this + characteristic letter as Miss Pink turned from the first page to the + second. Lady Lydiard addressed her adopted daughter in these words: + </p> + <p> + “I was on the point of leaving home to visit you again, when I received + your aunt’s letter. My poor deluded child, no words can tell how + distressed I am about you. You are already sacrificed to the folly of the + most foolish woman living. For God’s sake, take care you do not fall a + victim next to the designs of a profligate man. Come to me instantly, + Isabel, and I promise to take care of you.” + </p> + <p> + Fortified by these letters, and aided by Miss Pink’s indignation, Hardyman + pressed his proposal on Isabel with renewed resolution. She made no + attempt to combat his arguments—she only held firmly to her + decision. Without some encouragement from Hardyman’s father and mother she + still steadily refused to become his wife. Irritated already by Lady + Lydiard’s letters, he lost the self-command which so eminently + distinguished him in the ordinary affairs of life, and showed the + domineering and despotic temper which was an inbred part of his + disposition. Isabel’s high spirit at once resented the harsh terms in + which he spoke to her. In the plainest words, she released him from his + engagement, and, without waiting for his excuses, quitted the room. + </p> + <p> + Left together, Hardyman and Miss Pink devised an arrangement which paid + due respect to Isabel’s scruples, and at the same time met Lady Lydiard’s + insulting assertion of disbelief in Hardyman’s honor, by a formal and + public announcement of the marriage. + </p> + <p> + It was proposed to give a garden party at the farm in a week’s time for + the express purpose of introducing Isabel to Hardyman’s family and friends + in the character of his betrothed wife. If his father and mother accepted + the invitation, Isabel’s only objection to hastening the union would fall + to the ground. Hardyman might, in that case, plead with his Imperial + correspondent for a delay in his departure of a few days more; and the + marriage might still take place before he left England. Isabel, at Miss + Pink’s intercession, was induced to accept her lover’s excuses, and, in + the event of her favorable reception by Hardyman’s parents at the farm, to + give her consent (not very willingly even yet) to hastening the ceremony + which was to make her Hardyman’s wife. + </p> + <p> + On the next morning the whole of the invitations were sent out, excepting + the invitation to Hardyman’s father and mother. Without mentioning it to + Isabel, Hardyman decided on personally appealing to his mother before he + ventured on taking the head of the family into his confidence. + </p> + <p> + The result of the interview was partially successful—and no more. + Lord Rotherfield declined to see his youngest son; and he had engagements + which would, under any circumstances, prevent his being present at the + garden party. But at the express request of Lady Rotherfield, he was + willing to make certain concessions. + </p> + <p> + “I have always regarded Alfred as a barely sane person,” said his + Lordship, “since he turned his back on his prospects to become a horse + dealer. If we decline altogether to sanction this new act—I won’t + say, of insanity, I will say, of absurdity—on his part, it is + impossible to predict to what discreditable extremities he may not + proceed. We must temporise with Alfred. In the meantime I shall endeavor + to obtain some information respecting this young person—named + Miller, I think you said, and now resident at South Morden. If I am + satisfied that she is a woman of reputable character, possessing an + average education and presentable manners, we may as well let Alfred take + his own way. He is out of the pale of Society, as it is; and Miss Miller + has no father and mother to complicate matters, which is distinctly a + merit on her part and, in short, if the marriage is not absolutely + disgraceful, the wisest way (as we have no power to prevent it) will be to + submit. You will say nothing to Alfred about what I propose to do. I tell + you plainly I don’t trust him. You will simply inform him from me that I + want time to consider, and that, unless he hears to the contrary in the + interval, he may expect to have the sanction of your presence at his + breakfast, or luncheon, or whatever it is. I must go to town in a day or + two, and I shall ascertain what Alfred’s friends know about this last of + his many follies, if I meet any of them at the club.” + </p> + <p> + Returning to South Morden in no serene frame of mind, Hardyman found + Isabel in a state of depression which perplexed and alarmed him. + </p> + <p> + The news that his mother might be expected to be present at the garden + party failed entirely to raise her spirits. The only explanation she gave + of the change in her was, that the dull heavy weather of the last few days + made her feel a little languid and nervous. Naturally dissatisfied with + this reply to his inquiries, Hardyman asked for Miss Pink. He was informed + that Miss Pink could not see him. She was constitutionally subject to + asthma, and, having warnings of the return of the malady, she was (by the + doctor’s advice) keeping her room. Hardyman returned to the farm in a + temper which was felt by everybody in his employment, from the trainer to + the stable-boys. + </p> + <p> + While the apology made for Miss Pink stated no more than the plain truth, + it must be confessed that Hardyman was right in declining to be satisfied + with Isabel’s excuse for the melancholy that oppressed her. She had that + morning received Moody’s answer to the lines which she had addressed to + him at the end of her aunt’s letter; and she had not yet recovered from + the effect which it had produced on her spirits. + </p> + <p> + “It is impossible for me to say honestly that I am not distressed (Moody + wrote) by the news of your marriage engagement. The blow has fallen very + heavily on me. When I look at the future now, I see only a dreary blank. + This is not your fault—you are in no way to blame. I remember the + time when I should have been too angry to own this—when I might have + said or done things which I should have bitterly repented afterwards. That + time is past. My temper has been softened, since I have befriended you in + your troubles. That good at least has come out of my foolish hopes, and + perhaps out of the true sympathy which I have felt for you. I can honestly + ask you to accept my heart’s dearest wishes for your happiness—and I + can keep the rest to myself. + </p> + <p> + “Let me say a word now relating to the efforts that I have made to help + you, since that sad day when you left Lady Lydiard’s house. + </p> + <p> + “I had hoped (for reasons which it is needless to mention here) to + interest Mr. Hardyman himself in aiding our inquiry. But your aunt’s + wishes, as expressed in her letter to me, close my lips. I will only beg + you, at some convenient time, to let me mention the last discoveries that + we have made; leaving it to your discretion, when Mr. Hardyman has become + your husband, to ask him the questions which, under other circumstances, I + should have put to him myself. + </p> + <p> + “It is, of course, possible that the view I take of Mr. Hardyman’s + capacity to help us may be a mistaken one. In this case, if you still wish + the investigation to be privately carried on, I entreat you to let me + continue to direct it, as the greatest favor you can confer on your + devoted old friend. + </p> + <p> + “You need be under no apprehension about the expense to which you are + likely to put me. I have unexpectedly inherited what is to me a handsome + fortune. + </p> + <p> + “The same post which brought your aunt’s letter brought a line from a + lawyer asking me to see him on the subject of my late father’s affairs. I + waited a day or two before I could summon heart enough to see him, or to + see anybody; and then I went to his office. You have heard that my + father’s bank stopped payment, at a time of commercial panic. His failure + was mainly attributable to the treachery of a friend to whom he had lent a + large sum of money, and who paid him the yearly interest, without + acknowledging that every farthing of it had been lost in unsuccessful + speculations. The son of this man has prospered in business, and he has + honorably devoted a part of his wealth to the payment of his father’s + creditors. Half the sum due to <i>my</i> father has thus passed into my + hands as his next of kin; and the other half is to follow in course of + time. If my hopes had been fulfilled, how gladly I should have shared my + prosperity with you! As it is, I have far more than enough for my wants as + a lonely man, and plenty left to spend in your service. + </p> + <p> + “God bless and prosper you, my dear. I shall ask you to accept a little + present from me, among the other offerings that are made to you before the + wedding day.—R.M.” + </p> + <p> + The studiously considerate and delicate tone in which these lines were + written had an effect on Isabel which was exactly the opposite of the + effect intended by the writer. She burst into a passionate fit of tears; + and in the safe solitude of her own room, the despairing words escaped + her, “I wish I had died before I met with Alfred Hardyman!” + </p> + <p> + As the days wore on, disappointments and difficulties seemed by a kind of + fatality to beset the contemplated announcement of the marriage. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pink’s asthma, developed by the unfavorable weather, set the doctor’s + art at defiance, and threatened to keep that unfortunate lady a prisoner + in her room on the day of the party. Hardyman’s invitations were in some + cases refused; and in others accepted by husbands with excuses for the + absence of their wives. His elder brother made an apology for himself as + well as for his wife. Felix Sweetsir wrote, “With pleasure, dear Alfred, + if my health permits me to leave the house.” Lady Lydiard, invited at Miss + Pink’s special request, sent no reply. The one encouraging circumstance + was the silence of Lady Rotherfield. So long as her son received no + intimation to the contrary, it was a sign that Lord Rotherfield permitted + his wife to sanction the marriage by her presence. + </p> + <p> + Hardyman wrote to his Imperial correspondent, engaging to leave England on + the earliest possible day, and asking to be pardoned if he failed to + express himself more definitely, in consideration of domestic affairs, + which it was necessary to settle before he started for the Continent. If + there should not be time enough to write again, he promised to send a + telegraphic announcement of his departure. Long afterwards, Hardyman + remembered the misgivings that had troubled him when he wrote that letter. + In the rough draught of it, he had mentioned, as his excuse for not being + yet certain of his own movements, that he expected to be immediately + married. In the fair copy, the vague foreboding of some accident to come + was so painfully present to his mind, that he struck out the words which + referred to his marriage, and substituted the designedly indefinite + phrase, “domestic affairs.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. + </h2> + <p> + THE day of the garden party arrived. There was no rain; but the air was + heavy, and the sky was overcast by lowering clouds. + </p> + <p> + Some hours before the guests were expected, Isabel arrived alone at the + farm, bearing the apologies of unfortunate Miss Pink, still kept a + prisoner in her bed-chamber by the asthma. In the confusion produced at + the cottage by the preparations for entertaining the company, the one room + in which Hardyman could receive Isabel with the certainty of not being + interrupted was the smoking-room. To this haven of refuge he led her—still + reserved and silent, still not restored to her customary spirits. “If any + visitors come before the time,” Hardyman said to his servant, “tell them I + am engaged at the stables. I must have an hour’s quiet talk with you,” he + continued, turning to Isabel, “or I shall be in too bad a temper to + receive my guests with common politeness. The worry of giving this party + is not to be told in words. I almost wish I had been content with + presenting you to my mother, and had let the rest of my acquaintances go + to the devil.” + </p> + <p> + A quiet half hour passed; and the first visitor, a stranger to the + servants, appeared at the cottage-gate. He was a middle-aged man, and he + had no wish to disturb Mr. Hardyman. “I will wait in the grounds,” he + said, “and trouble nobody.” The middle-aged man, who expressed himself in + these modest terms, was Robert Moody. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later, a carriage drove up to the gate. An elderly lady got + out of it, followed by a fat white Scotch terrier, who growled at every + stranger within his reach. It is needless to introduce Lady Lydiard and + Tommie. + </p> + <p> + Informed that Mr. Hardyman was at the stables, Lady Lydiard gave the + servant her card. “Take that to your master, and say I won’t detain him + five minutes.” With these words, her Ladyship sauntered into the grounds. + She looked about her with observant eyes; not only noticing the tent which + had been set up on the grass to accommodate the expected guests, but + entering it, and looking at the waiters who were engaged in placing the + luncheon on the table. Returning to the outer world, she next remarked + that Mr. Hardyman’s lawn was in very bad order. Barren sun-dried patches, + and little holes and crevices opened here and there by the action of the + summer heat, announced that the lawn, like everything else at the farm, + had been neglected, in the exclusive attention paid to the claims of the + horses. Reaching a shrubbery which bounded one side of the grounds next, + her Ladyship became aware of a man slowly approaching her, to all + appearance absorbed in thought. The man drew a little nearer. She lifted + her glasses to her eyes and recognized—Moody. + </p> + <p> + No embarrassment was produced on either side by this unexpected meeting. + Lady Lydiard had, not long since, sent to ask her former steward to visit + her; regretting, in her warm-hearted way, the terms on which they had + separated, and wishing to atone for the harsh language that had escaped + her at their parting interview. In the friendly talk which followed the + reconciliation, Lady Lydiard not only heard the news of Moody’s pecuniary + inheritance—but, noticing the change in his appearance for the + worse, contrived to extract from him the confession of his ill-starred + passion for Isabel. To discover him now, after all that he had + acknowledged, walking about the grounds at Hardyman’s farm, took her + Ladyship completely by surprise. “Good Heavens!” she exclaimed, in her + loudest tones, “what are you doing here?” + </p> + <p> + “You mentioned Mr. Hardyman’s garden party, my Lady, when I had the honor + of waiting on you,” Moody answered. “Thinking over it afterward, it seemed + the fittest occasion I could find for making a little wedding present to + Miss Isabel. Is there any harm in my asking Mr. Hardyman to let me put the + present on her plate, so that she may see it when she sits down to + luncheon? If your Ladyship thinks so, I will go away directly, and send + the gift by post.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard looked at him attentively. “You don’t despise the girl,” she + asked, “for selling herself for rank and money? I do—I can tell + you!” + </p> + <p> + Moody’s worn white face flushed a little. “No, my Lady,” he answered, “I + can’t hear you say that! Isabel would not have engaged herself to Mr. + Hardyman unless she had been fond of him—as fond, I dare say, as I + once hoped she might be of me. It’s a hard thing to confess that; but I do + confess it, in justice to her—God bless her!” + </p> + <p> + The generosity that spoke in those simple words touched the finest + sympathies in Lady Lydiard’s nature. “Give me your hand,” she said, with + her own generous spirit kindling in her eyes. “You have a great heart, + Moody. Isabel Miller is a fool for not marrying <i>you</i>—and one + day she will know it!” + </p> + <p> + Before a word more could pass between them, Hardyman’s voice was audible + on the other side of the shrubbery, calling irritably to his servant to + find Lady Lydiard. + </p> + <p> + Moody retired to the further end of the walk, while Lady Lydiard advanced + in the opposite direction, so as to meet Hardyman at the entrance to the + shrubbery. He bowed stiffly, and begged to know why her Ladyship had + honored him with a visit. + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard replied without noticing the coldness of her reception. + </p> + <p> + “I have not been very well, Mr. Hardyman, or you would have seen me before + this. My only object in presenting myself here is to make my excuses + personally for having written of you in terms which expressed a doubt of + your honor. I have done you an injustice, and I beg you to forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman acknowledged this frank apology as unreservedly as it had been + offered to him. “Say no more, Lady Lydiard. And let me hope, now you are + here, that you will honor my little party with your presence.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Lydiard gravely stated her reasons for not accepting the invitation. + </p> + <p> + “I disapprove so strongly of unequal marriages,” she said, walking on + slowly towards the cottage, “that I cannot, in common consistency, become + one of your guests. I shall always feel interested in Isabel Miller’s + welfare; and I can honestly say I shall be glad if your married life + proves that my old-fashioned prejudices are without justification in your + case. Accept my thanks for your invitation; and let me hope that my plain + speaking has not offended you.” + </p> + <p> + She bowed, and looked about her for Tommie before she advanced to the + carriage waiting for her at the gate. In the surprise of seeing Moody she + had forgotten to look back for the dog when she entered the shrubbery. She + now called to him, and blew the whistle at her watch-chain. Not a sign of + Tommie was to be seen. Hardyman instantly directed the servants to search + in the cottage and out of the cottage for the dog. The order was obeyed + with all needful activity and intelligence, and entirely without success. + For the time being at any rate, Tommie was lost. + </p> + <p> + Hardyman promised to have the dog looked for in every part of the farm, + and to send him back in the care of one of his own men. With these polite + assurances Lady Lydiard was obliged to be satisfied. She drove away in a + very despondent frame of mind. “First Isabel, and now Tommie,” thought her + Ladyship. “I am losing the only companions who made life tolerable to me.” + </p> + <p> + Returning from the garden gate, after taking leave of his visitor, + Hardyman received from his servant a handful of letters which had just + arrived for him. Walking slowly over the lawn as he opened them, he found + nothing but excuses for the absence of guests who had already accepted + their invitations. He had just thrust the letters into his pocket, when he + heard footsteps behind him, and, looking round, found himself confronted + by Moody. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo! have you come to lunch?” Hardyman asked, roughly. + </p> + <p> + “I have come here, sir, with a little gift for Miss Isabel, in honor of + her marriage,” Moody answered quietly, “and I ask your permission to put + it on the table, so that she may see it when your guests sit down to + luncheon.” + </p> + <p> + He opened a jeweler’s case as he spoke, containing a plain gold bracelet + with an inscription engraved on the inner side: “To Miss Isabel Miller, + with the sincere good wishes of Robert Moody.” + </p> + <p> + Plain as it was, the design of the bracelet was unusually beautiful. + Hardyman had noticed Moody’s agitation on the day when he had met Isabel + near her aunt’s house, and had drawn his own conclusions from it. His face + darkened with a momentary jealousy as he looked at the bracelet. “All + right, old fellow!” he said, with contemptuous familiarity. “Don’t be + modest. Wait and give it to her with your own hand.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said Moody “I would rather leave it, if you please, to speak + for itself.” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman understood the delicacy of feeling which dictated those words, + and, without well knowing why, resented it. He was on the point of + speaking, under the influence of this unworthy motive, when Isabel’s voice + reached his ears, calling to him from the cottage. + </p> + <p> + Moody’s face contracted with a sudden expression of pain as he, too, + recognized the voice. “Don’t let me detain you, sir,” he said, sadly. + “Good-morning!” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman left him without ceremony. Moody, slowly following, entered the + tent. All the preparations for the luncheon had been completed; nobody was + there. The places to be occupied by the guests were indicated by cards + bearing their names. Moody found Isabel’s card, and put his bracelet + inside the folded napkin on her plate. For a while he stood with his hand + on the table, thinking. The temptation to communicate once more with + Isabel before he lost her forever, was fast getting the better of his + powers of resistance. + </p> + <p> + “If I could persuade her to write a word to say she liked her bracelet,” + he thought, “it would be a comfort when I go back to my solitary life.” He + tore a leaf out of his pocket book and wrote on it, “One line to say you + accept my gift and my good wishes. Put it under the cushion of your chair, + and I shall find it when the company have left the tent.” He slipped the + paper into the case which held the bracelet, and instead of leaving the + farm as he had intended, turned back to the shelter of the shrubbery. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. + </h2> + <p> + HARDYMAN went on to the cottage. He found Isabel in some agitation. And + there, by her side, with his tail wagging slowly, and his eye on Hardyman + in expectation of a possible kick—there was the lost Tommie! + </p> + <p> + “Has Lady Lydiard gone?” Isabel asked eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Hardyman. “Where did you find the dog?” + </p> + <p> + As events had ordered it, the dog had found Isabel, under these + circumstances. + </p> + <p> + The appearance of Lady Lydiard’s card in the smoking-room had been an + alarming event for Lady Lydiard’s adopted daughter. She was guiltily + conscious of not having answered her Ladyship’s note, inclosed in Miss + Pink’s letter, and of not having taken her Ladyship’s advice in regulating + her conduct towards Hardyman. As he rose to leave the room and receive his + visitor in the grounds, Isabel begged him to say nothing of her presence + at the farm, unless Lady Lydiard exhibited a forgiving turn of mind by + asking to see her. Left by herself in the smoking-room, she suddenly heard + a bark in the passage which had a familiar sound in her ears. She opened + the door—and in rushed Tommie, with one of his shrieks of delight! + Curiosity had taken him into the house. He had heard the voices in the + smoking-room; had recognized Isabel’s voice; and had waited, with his + customary cunning and his customary distrust of strangers, until Hardyman + was out of the way. Isabel kissed and caressed him, and then drove him out + again to the lawn, fearing that Lady Lydiard might return to look for him. + Going back to the smoking-room, she stood at the window watching for + Hardyman’s return. When the servants came to look for the dog, she could + only tell them that she had last seen him in the grounds, not far from the + cottage. The useless search being abandoned, and the carriage having left + the gate, who should crawl out from the back of a cupboard in which some + empty hampers were placed but Tommie himself! How he had contrived to get + back to the smoking-room (unless she had omitted to completely close the + door on her return) it was impossible to say. But there he was, determined + this time to stay with Isabel, and keeping in his hiding place until he + heard the movement of the carriage-wheels, which informed him that his + lawful mistress had left the cottage! Isabel had at once called Hardyman, + on the chance that the carriage might yet be stopped. It was already out + of sight, and nobody knew which of two roads it had taken, both leading to + London. In this emergency, Isabel could only look at Hardyman and ask what + was to be done. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t spare a servant till after the party,” he answered. “The dog must + be tied up in the stables.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel shook her head. Tommie was not accustomed to be tied up. He would + make a disturbance, and he would be beaten by the grooms. “I will take + care of him,” she said. “He won’t leave me.” + </p> + <p> + “There’s something else to think of besides the dog,” Hardyman rejoined + irritably. “Look at these letters!” He pulled them out of his pocket as he + spoke. “Here are no less than seven men, all calling themselves my + friends, who accepted my invitation, and who write to excuse themselves on + the very day of the party. Do you know why? They’re all afraid of my + father—I forgot to tell you he’s a Cabinet Minister as well as a + Lord. Cowards and cads. They have heard he isn’t coming and they think to + curry favor with the great man by stopping away. Come along, Isabel! Let’s + take their names off the luncheon table. Not a man of them shall ever + darken my doors again!” + </p> + <p> + “I am to blame for what has happened,” Isabel answered sadly. “I am + estranging you from your friends. There is still time, Alfred, to alter + your mind and let me go.” + </p> + <p> + He put his arm round her with rough fondness. “I would sacrifice every + friend I have in the world rather than lose you. Come along!” + </p> + <p> + They left the cottage. At the entrance to the tent, Hardyman noticed the + dog at Isabel’s heels, and vented his ill-temper, as usual with male + humanity, on the nearest unoffending creature that he could find. “Be off, + you mongrel brute!” he shouted. The tail of Tommie relaxed from its + customary tight curve over the small of his back; and the legs of Tommie + (with his tail between them) took him at full gallop to the friendly + shelter of the cupboard in the smoking-room. It was one of those trifling + circumstances which women notice seriously. Isabel said nothing; she only + thought to herself, “I wish he had shown his temper when I first knew + him!” + </p> + <p> + They entered the tent. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll read the names,” said Hardyman, “and you find the cards and tear + them up. Stop! I’ll keep the cards. You’re just the sort of woman my + father likes. He’ll be reconciled to me when he sees you, after we are + married. If one of those men ever asks him for a place, I’ll take care, if + it’s years hence, to put an obstacle in his way! Here; take my pencil, and + make a mark on the cards to remind me; the same mark I set against a horse + in my book when I don’t like him—a cross, inclosed in a circle.” He + produced his pocketbook. His hands trembled with anger as he gave the + pencil to Isabel and laid the book on the table. He had just read the name + of the first false friend, and Isabel had just found the card, when a + servant appeared with a message. “Mrs. Drumblade has arrived, sir, and + wishes to see you on a matter of the greatest importance.” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman left the tent, not very willingly. “Wait here,” he said to + Isabel; “I’ll be back directly.” + </p> + <p> + She was standing near her own place at the table. Moody had left one end + of the jeweler’s case visible above the napkin, to attract her attention. + In a minute more the bracelet and note were in her hands. She dropped on + her chair, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions that rose in her at the + sight of the bracelet, at the reading of the note. Her head drooped, and + the tears filled her eyes. “Are all women as blind as I have been to what + is good and noble in the men who love them?” she wondered, sadly. “Better + as it is,” she thought, with a bitter sigh; “I am not worthy of him.” + </p> + <p> + As she took up the pencil to write her answer to Moody on the back of her + dinner-card, the servant appeared again at the door of the tent. + </p> + <p> + “My master wants you at the cottage, miss, immediately.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel rose, putting the bracelet and the note in the silver-mounted + leather pocket (a present from Hardyman) which hung at her belt. In the + hurry of passing round the table to get out, she never noticed that her + dress touched Hardyman’s pocketbook, placed close to the edge, and threw + it down on the grass below. The book fell into one of the heat cracks + which Lady Lydiard had noticed as evidence of the neglected condition of + the cottage lawn. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to hear the pleasant news my sister has just brought me,” said + Hardyman, when Isabel joined him in the parlor. “Mrs. Drumblade has been + told, on the best authority, that my mother is not coming to the party.” + </p> + <p> + “There must be some reason, of course, dear Isabel,” added Mrs. Drumblade. + “Have you any idea of what it can be? I haven’t seen my mother myself; and + all my inquiries have failed to find it out.” + </p> + <p> + She looked searchingly at Isabel as she spoke. The mask of sympathy on her + face was admirably worn. Nobody who possessed only a superficial + acquaintance with Mrs. Drumblade’s character would have suspected how + thoroughly she was enjoying in secret the position of embarrassment in + which her news had placed her brother. Instinctively doubting whether Mrs. + Drumblade’s friendly behavior was quite as sincere as it appeared to be, + Isabel answered that she was a stranger to Lady Rotherfield, and was + therefore quite at a loss to explain the cause of her ladyship’s absence. + As she spoke, the guests began to arrive in quick succession, and the + subject was dropped as a matter of course. + </p> + <p> + It was not a merry party. Hardyman’s approaching marriage had been made + the topic of much malicious gossip, and Isabel’s character had, as usual + in such cases, become the object of all the false reports that scandal + could invent. Lady Rotherfield’s absence confirmed the general conviction + that Hardyman was disgracing himself. The men were all more or less + uneasy. The women resented the discovery that Isabel was—personally + speaking, at least—beyond the reach of hostile criticism. Her beauty + was viewed as a downright offense; her refined and modest manners were set + down as perfect acting; “really disgusting, my dear, in so young a girl.” + General Drumblade, a large and mouldy veteran, in a state of chronic + astonishment (after his own matrimonial experience) at Hardyman’s folly in + marrying at all, diffused a wide circle of gloom, wherever he went and + whatever he did. His accomplished wife, forcing her high spirits on + everybody’s attention with a sort of kittenish playfulness, intensified + the depressing effect of the general dullness by all the force of the + strongest contrast. After waiting half an hour for his mother, and waiting + in vain, Hardyman led the way to the tent in despair. “The sooner I fill + their stomachs and get rid of them,” he thought savagely, “the better I + shall be pleased!” + </p> + <p> + The luncheon was attacked by the company with a certain silent ferocity, + which the waiters noticed as remarkable, even in their large experience. + The men drank deeply, but with wonderfully little effect in raising their + spirits; the women, with the exception of amiable Mrs. Drumblade, kept + Isabel deliberately out of the conversation that went on among them. + General Drumblade, sitting next to her in one of the places of honor, + discoursed to Isabel privately on “my brother-in-law Hardyman’s infernal + temper.” A young marquis, on her other side—a mere lad, chosen to + make the necessary speech in acknowledgment of his superior rank—rose, + in a state of nervous trepidation, to propose Isabel’s health as the + chosen bride of their host. Pale and trembling, conscious of having + forgotten the words which he had learnt beforehand, this unhappy young + nobleman began: “Ladies and gentlemen, I haven’t an idea—” He + stopped, put his hand to his head, stared wildly, and sat down again; + having contrived to state his own case with masterly brevity and perfect + truth, in a speech of seven words. + </p> + <p> + While the dismay, in some cases, and the amusement in others, was still at + its height, Hardyman’s valet made his appearance, and, approaching his + master, said in a whisper, “Could I speak to you, sit, for a moment + outside?” + </p> + <p> + “What the devil do you want?” Hardyman asked irritably. “Is that a letter + in your hand? Give it to me.” + </p> + <p> + The valet was a Frenchman. In other words, he had a sense of what was due + to himself. His master had forgotten this. He gave up the letter with a + certain dignity of manner, and left the tent. Hardyman opened the letter. + He turned pale as he read it; crumpled it in his hand, and threw it down + on the table. “By G—d! it’s a lie!” he exclaimed furiously. + </p> + <p> + The guests rose in confusion. Mrs. Drumblade, finding the letter within + her reach, coolly possessed herself of it; recognized her mother’s + handwriting; and read these lines: + </p> + <p> + “I have only now succeeded in persuading your father to let me write to + you. For God’s sake, break off your marriage at any sacrifice. Your father + has heard, on unanswerable authority, that Miss Isabel Miller left her + situation in Lady Lydiard’s house on suspicion of theft.” + </p> + <p> + While his sister was reading this letter, Hardyman had made his way to + Isabel’s chair. “I must speak to you, directly,” he whispered. “Come away + with me!” He turned, as he took her arm, and looked at the table. “Where + is my letter?” he asked. Mrs. Drumblade handed it to him, dexterously + crumpled up again as she had found it. “No bad news, dear Alfred, I hope?” + she said, in her most affectionate manner. Hardyman snatched the letter + from her, without answering, and led Isabel out of the tent. + </p> + <p> + “Read that!” he said, when they were alone. “And tell me at once whether + it’s true or false.” + </p> + <p> + Isabel read the letter. For a moment the shock of the discovery held her + speechless. She recovered herself, and returned the letter. + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + Hardyman staggered back as if she had shot him. + </p> + <p> + “True that you are guilty?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “No; I am innocent. Everybody who knows me believes in my innocence. It is + true the appearances were against me. They are against me still.” Having + said this, she waited, quietly and firmly, for his next words. + </p> + <p> + He passed his hand over his forehead with a sigh of relief. “It’s bad + enough as it is,” he said, speaking quietly on his side. “But the remedy + for it is plain enough. Come back to the tent.” + </p> + <p> + She never moved. “Why?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose I don’t believe in your innocence too?” he answered. “The + one way of setting you right with the world now is for me to make you my + wife, in spite of the appearances that point to you. I’m too fond of you, + Isabel, to give you up. Come back with me, and I will announce our + marriage to my friends.” + </p> + <p> + She took his hand, and kissed it. “It is generous and good of you,” she + said; “but it must not be.” + </p> + <p> + He took a step nearer to her. “What do you mean?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It was against my will,” she pursued, “that my aunt concealed the truth + from you. I did wrong to consent to it, I will do wrong no more. Your + mother is right, Alfred. After what has happened, I am not fit to be your + wife until my innocence is proved. It is not proved yet.” + </p> + <p> + The angry color began to rise in his face once more. “Take care,” he said; + “I am not in a humor to be trifled with.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not trifling with you,” she answered, in low, sad tones. + </p> + <p> + “You really mean what you say?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be obstinate, Isabel. Take time to consider.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind, Alfred. My duty is plain to me. I will marry you—if + you still wish it—when my good name is restored to me. Not before.” + </p> + <p> + He laid one hand on her arm, and pointed with the other to the guests in + the distance, all leaving the tent on the way to their carriages. + </p> + <p> + “Your good name will be restored to you,” he said, “on the day when I + make you my wife. The worst enemy you have cannot associate <i>my</i> name + with a suspicion of theft. Remember that and think a little before you + decide. You see those people there. If you don’t change your mind by the + time they have got to the cottage, it’s good-by between us, and good-by + forever. I refuse to wait for you; I refuse to accept a conditional + engagement. Wait, and think. They’re walking slowly; you have got some + minutes more.” + </p> + <p> + He still held her arm, watching the guests as they gradually receded from + view. It was not until they had all collected in a group outside the + cottage door that he spoke himself, or that he permitted Isabel to speak + again. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” he said, “you have had your time to get cool. Will you take my arm, + and join those people with me? or will you say good-by forever?” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, Alfred!” she began, gently. “I cannot consent, in justice to + you, to shelter myself behind your name. It is the name of your family; + and they have a right to expect that you will not degrade it—” + </p> + <p> + “I want a plain answer,” he interposed sternly. “Which is it? Yes, or No?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him with sad compassionate eyes. Her voice was firm as she + answered him in one word as he had desired. The word was— + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + Without speaking to her, without even looking at her, he turned and walked + back to the cottage. + </p> + <p> + Making his way silently through the group of visitors—every one of + whom had been informed of what had happened by his sister—with his + head down and his lips fast closed, he entered the parlor and rang the + bell which communicated with his foreman’s rooms at the stables. + </p> + <p> + “You know that I am going abroad on business?” he said, when the man + appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to-day—going by the night train to Dover. Order the + horse to be put to instantly in the dogcart. Is there anything wanted + before I am off?” + </p> + <p> + The inexorable necessities of business asserted their claims through the + obedient medium of the foreman. Chafing at the delay, Hardyman was obliged + to sit at his desk, signing checks and passing accounts, with the dogcart + waiting in the stable yard. + </p> + <p> + A knock at the door startled him in the middle of his work. “Come in,” he + called out sharply. + </p> + <p> + He looked up, expecting to see one of the guests or one of the servants. + It was Moody who entered the room. Hardyman laid down his pen, and fixed + his eyes sternly on the man who had dared to interrupt him. + </p> + <p> + “What the devil do <i>you</i> want?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen Miss Isabel, and spoken with her,” Moody replied. “Mr. + Hardyman, I believe it is in your power to set this matter right. For the + young lady’s sake, sir, you must not leave England without doing it.” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman turned to his foreman. “Is this fellow mad or drunk?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Moody proceeded as calmly and as resolutely as if those words had not been + spoken. “I apologize for my intrusion, sir. I will trouble you with no + explanations. I will only ask one question. Have you a memorandum of the + number of that five-hundred pound note you paid away in France?” + </p> + <p> + Hardyman lost all control over himself. + </p> + <p> + “You scoundrel!” he cried, “have you been prying into my private affairs? + Is it <i>your</i> business to know what I did in France?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it <i>your</i> vengeance on a woman to refuse to tell her the number + of a bank-note?” Moody rejoined, firmly. + </p> + <p> + That answer forced its way, through Hardyman’s anger, to Hardyman’s sense + of honor. He rose and advanced to Moody. For a moment the two men faced + each other in silence. “You’re a bold fellow,” said Hardyman, with a + sudden change from anger to irony. “I’ll do the lady justice. I’ll look at + my pocketbook.” + </p> + <p> + He put his hand into the breast-pocket of his coat; he searched his other + pockets; he turned over the objects on his writing-table. The book was + gone. + </p> + <p> + Moody watched him with a feeling of despair. “Oh! Mr. Hardyman, don’t say + you have lost your pocketbook!” + </p> + <p> + He sat down again at his desk, with sullen submission to the new disaster. + “All I can say is you’re at liberty to look for it,” he replied. “I must + have dropped it somewhere.” He turned impatiently to the foreman, “Now + then! What is the next check wanted? I shall go mad if I wait in this + damned place much longer!” + </p> + <p> + Moody left him, and found his way to the servants’ offices. “Mr. Hardyman + has lost his pocketbook,” he said. “Look for it, indoors and out—on + the lawn, and in the tent. Ten pounds reward for the man who finds it!” + </p> + <p> + Servants and waiters instantly dispersed, eager for the promised reward. + The men who pursued the search outside the cottage divided their forces. + Some of them examined the lawn and the flower-beds. Others went straight + to the empty tent. These last were too completely absorbed in pursuing the + object in view to notice that they disturbed a dog, eating a stolen lunch + of his own from the morsels left on the plates. The dog slunk away under + the canvas when the men came in, waited in hiding until they had gone, + then returned to the tent, and went on with his luncheon. + </p> + <p> + Moody hastened back to the part of the grounds (close to the shrubbery) in + which Isabel was waiting his return. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him, while he was telling her of his interview with + Hardyman, with an expression in her eyes which he had never seen in them + before—an expression which set his heart beating wildly, and made + him break off in his narrative before he had reached the end. + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” she said quietly, as he stopped in confusion. “You have + made one more sacrifice to my welfare. Robert! I believe you are the + noblest man that ever breathed the breath of life!” + </p> + <p> + His eyes sank before hers; he blushed like a boy. “I have done nothing for + you yet,” he said. “Don’t despair of the future, if the pocketbook should + not be found. I know who the man is who received the bank note; and I have + only to find him to decide the question whether it <i>is</i> the stolen + note or not.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled sadly as his enthusiasm. “Are you going back to Mr. Sharon to + help you?” she asked. “That trick he played me has destroyed <i>my</i> + belief in him. He no more knows than I do who the thief really is.” + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken, Isabel. He knows—and I know.” He stopped there, + and made a sign to her to be silent. One of the servants was approaching + them. + </p> + <p> + “Is the pocketbook found?” Moody asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Has Mr. Hardyman left the cottage?” + </p> + <p> + “He has just gone, sir. Have you any further instructions to give us?” + </p> + <p> + “No. There is my address in London, if the pocketbook should be found.” + </p> + <p> + The man took the card that was handed to him and retired. Moody offered + his arm to Isabel. “I am at your service,” he said, “when you wish to + return to your aunt.” + </p> + <p> + They had advanced nearly as far as the tent, on their way out of the + grounds, when they were met by a gentleman walking towards them from the + cottage. He was a stranger to Isabel. Moody immediately recognized him as + Mr. Felix Sweetsir. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! our good Moody!” cried Felix. “Enviable man! you look younger than + ever.” He took off his hat to Isabel; his bright restless eyes suddenly + became quiet as they rested on her. “Have I the honor of addressing the + future Mrs. Hardyman? May I offer my best congratulations? What has become + of our friend Alfred?” + </p> + <p> + Moody answered for Isabel. “If you will make inquiries at the cottage, + sir,” he said, “you will find that you are mistaken, to say the least of + it, in addressing your questions to this young lady.” + </p> + <p> + Felix took off his hat again—with the most becoming appearance of + surprise and distress. + </p> + <p> + “Something wrong, I fear?” he said, addressing Isabel. “I am, indeed, + ashamed if I have ignorantly given you a moment’s pain. Pray accept my + most sincere apologies. I have only this instant arrived; my health would + not allow me to be present at the luncheon. Permit me to express the + earnest hope that matters may be set right to the satisfaction of all + parties. Good-afternoon!” + </p> + <p> + He bowed with elaborate courtesy, and turned back to the cottage. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that?” Isabel asked. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Lydiard’s nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir,” Moody answered, with a sudden + sternness of tone, and a sudden coldness of manner, which surprised + Isabel. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t like him?” she said. + </p> + <p> + As she spoke, Felix stopped to give audience to one of the grooms, who + had apparently been sent with a message to him. He turned so that his face + was once more visible to Isabel. Moody pressed her hand significantly as + it rested on his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Look well at that man,” he whispered. “It’s time to warn you. Mr. Felix + Sweetsir is the worst enemy you have!” + </p> + <p> + Isabel heard him in speechless astonishment. He went on in tones that + trembled with suppressed emotion. + </p> + <p> + “You doubt if Sharon knows the thief. You doubt if I know the thief. + Isabel! as certainly as the heaven is above us, there stands the wretch + who stole the bank-note!” + </p> + <p> + She drew her hand out of his arm with a cry of terror. She looked at him + as if she doubted whether he was in his right mind. + </p> + <p> + He took her hand, and waited a moment trying to compose himself. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me,” he said. “At the first consultation I had with Sharon he + gave this advice to Mr. Troy and to me. He said, ‘Suspect the very last + person on whom suspicion could possibly fall.’ Those words, taken with the + questions he had asked before he pronounced his opinion, struck through me + as if he had struck me with a knife. I instantly suspected Lady Lydiard’s + nephew. Wait! From that time to this I have said nothing of my suspicion + to any living soul. I knew in my own heart that it took its rise in the + inveterate dislike that I have always felt for Mr. Sweetsir, and I + distrusted it accordingly. But I went back to Sharon, for all that, and + put the case into his hands. His investigations informed me that Mr. + Sweetsir owed ‘debts of honor’ (as gentlemen call them), incurred through + lost bets, to a large number of persons, and among them a bet of five + hundred pounds lost to Mr. Hardyman. Further inquiries showed that Mr. + Hardyman had taken the lead in declaring that he would post Mr. Sweetsir + as a defaulter, and have him turned out of his clubs, and turned out of + the betting-ring. Ruin stared him in the face if he failed to pay his debt + to Mr. Hardyman on the last day left to him—the day after the note + was lost. On that very morning, Lady Lydiard, speaking to me of her + nephew’s visit to her, said, ‘If I had given him an opportunity of + speaking, Felix would have borrowed money of me; I saw it in his face.’ + One moment more, Isabel. I am not only certain that Mr. Sweetsir took the + five-hundred pound note out of the open letter, I am firmly persuaded that + he is the man who told Lord Rotherfield of the circumstances under which + you left Lady Lydiard’s house. Your marriage to Mr. Hardyman might have + put you in a position to detect the theft. You, not I, might, in that + case, have discovered from your husband that the stolen note was the note + with which Mr. Sweetsir paid his debt. He came here, you may depend on it, + to make sure that he had succeeded in destroying your prospects. A more + depraved villain at heart than that man never swung from a gallows!” + </p> + <p> + He checked himself at those words. The shock of the disclosure, the + passion and vehemence with which he spoke, overwhelmed Isabel. She + trembled like a frightened child. + </p> + <p> + While he was still trying to soothe and reassure her, a low whining made + itself heard at her feet. They looked down, and saw Tommie. Finding + himself noticed at last, he expressed his sense of relief by a bark. + Something dropped out of his mouth. As Moody stooped to pick it up, the + dog ran to Isabel and pushed his head against her feet, as his way was + when he expected to have the handkerchief thrown over him, preparatory to + one of those games at hide-and-seek which have been already mentioned. + Isabel put out her hand to caress him, when she was stopped by a cry from + Moody. It was <i>his</i> turn to tremble now. His voice faltered as he + said the words, “The dog has found the pocketbook!” + </p> + <p> + He opened the book with shaking hands. A betting-book was bound up in it, + with the customary calendar. He turned to the date of the day after the + robbery. + </p> + <p> + There was the entry: “Felix Sweetsir. Paid 500 pounds. Note numbered, N 8, + 70564; dated 15th May, 1875.” + </p> + <p> + Moody took from his waistcoat pocket his own memorandum of the number of + the lost bank-note. “Read it Isabel,” he said. “I won’t trust my memory.” + </p> + <p> + She read it. The number and date of the note entered in the pocketbook + exactly corresponded with the number and date of the note that Lady + Lydiard had placed in her letter. + </p> + <p> + Moody handed the pocketbook to Isabel. “There is the proof of your + innocence,” he said, “thanks to the dog! Will you write and tell Mr. + Hardyman what has happened?” he asked, with his head down and his eyes on + the ground. + </p> + <p> + She answered him, with the bright color suddenly flowing over her face. + </p> + <p> + “<i>You</i> shall write to him,” she said, “when the time comes.” + </p> + <p> + “What time?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She threw her arms round his neck, and hid her face on his bosom. + </p> + <p> + “The time,” she whispered, “when I am your wife.” + </p> + <p> + A low growl from Tommie reminded them that he too had some claim to be + noticed. + </p> + <p> + Isabel dropped on her knees, and saluted her old playfellow with the + heartiest kisses she had ever given him since the day when their + acquaintance began. “You darling!” she said, as she put him down again, + “what can I do to reward you?” + </p> + <p> + Tommie rolled over on his back—more slowly than usual, in + consequence of his luncheon in the tent. He elevated his four paws in the + air and looked lazily at Isabel out of his bright brown eyes. If ever a + dog’s look spoke yet, Tommie’s look said, “I have eaten too much; rub my + stomach.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + POSTSCRIPT. + </h2> + <p> + Persons of a speculative turn of mind are informed that the following + document is for sale, and are requested to mention what sum they will give + for it. + </p> + <p> + “IOU, Lady Lydiard, five hundred pounds (L500), Felix Sweetsir.” + </p> + <p> + Her Ladyship became possessed of this pecuniary remittance under + circumstances which surround it with a halo of romantic interest. It was + the last communication she was destined to receive from her accomplished + nephew. There was a Note attached to it, which cannot fail to enhance its + value in the estimation of all right-minded persons who assist the + circulation of paper money. + </p> + <p> + The lines that follow are strictly confidential: + </p> + <p> + “Note.—Our excellent Moody informs me, my dear aunt, that you have + decided (against his advice) on ‘refusing to prosecute.’ I have not the + slightest idea of what he means; but I am very much obliged to him, + nevertheless, for reminding me of a circumstance which is of some interest + to yourself personally. + </p> + <p> + “I am on the point of retiring to the Continent in search of health. One + generally forgets something important when one starts on a journey. Before + Moody called, I had entirely forgotten to mention that I had the pleasure + of borrowing five hundred pounds of you some little time since. + </p> + <p> + “On the occasion to which I refer, your language and manner suggested that + you would not lend me the money if I asked for it. Obviously, the only + course left was to take it without asking. I took it while Moody was gone + to get some curacoa; and I returned to the picture-gallery in time to + receive that delicious liqueur from the footman’s hands. + </p> + <p> + “You will naturally ask why I found it necessary to supply myself (if I + may borrow an expression from the language of State finance) with this + ‘forced loan.’ I was actuated by motives which I think do me honor. My + position at the time was critical in the extreme. My credit with the + money-lenders was at an end; my friends had all turned their backs on me. + I must either take the money or disgrace my family. If there is a man + living who is sincerely attached to his family, I am that man. I took the + money. + </p> + <p> + “Conceive your position as my aunt (I say nothing of myself), if I had + adopted the other alternative. Turned out of the Jockey Club, turned out + of Tattersalls’, turned out of the betting-ring; in short, posted publicly + as a defaulter before the noblest institution in England, the Turf—and + all for want of five hundred pounds to stop the mouth of the greatest + brute I know of, Alfred Hardyman! Let me not harrow your feelings (and + mine) by dwelling on it. Dear and admirable woman! To you belongs the + honor of saving the credit of the family; I can claim nothing but the + inferior merit of having offered you the opportunity. + </p> + <p> + “My IOU, it is needless to say, accompanies these lines. Can I do anything + for you abroad?—F. S.” + </p> + <p> + To this it is only necessary to add (first) that Moody was perfectly right + in believing F. S. to be the person who informed Hardyman’s father of + Isabel’s position when she left Lady Lydiard’s house; and (secondly) that + Felix did really forward Mr. Troy’s narrative of the theft to the French + police, altering nothing in it but the number of the lost bank-note. + </p> + <p> + What is there left to write about? Nothing is left—but to say + good-by (very sorrowfully on the writer’s part) to the Persons of the + Story. + </p> + <p> + Good-by to Miss Pink—who will regret to her dying day that Isabel’s + answer to Hardyman was No. + </p> + <p> + Good-by to Lady Lydiard—who differs with Miss Pink, and would have + regretted it, to <i>her</i> dying day, if the answer had been Yes. + </p> + <p> + Good-by to Moody and Isabel—whose history has closed with the + closing of the clergyman’s book on their wedding-day. + </p> + <p> + Good-by to Hardyman—who has sold his farm and his horses, and has + begun a new life among the famous fast trotters of America. + </p> + <p> + Good-by to Old Sharon—who, a martyr to his promise, brushed his hair + and washed his face in honor of Moody’s marriage; and catching a severe + cold as the necessary consequence, declared, in the intervals of sneezing, + that he would “never do it again.” + </p> + <p> + And last, not least, good-by to Tommie? No. The writer gave Tommie his + dinner not half an hour since, and is too fond of him to say good-by. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Lady’s Money, by Wilkie Collins + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY LADY’S MONEY *** + +***** This file should be named 1628-h.htm or 1628-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/2/1628/ + +Produced by James Rusk and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: My Lady's Money + +Author: Wilkie Collins + +Release Date: March 21, 2006 [EBook #1628] +[Last Updated: September 10, 2013] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY LADY'S MONEY *** + + + + +Produced by James Rusk and David Widger + + + + + +MY LADY'S MONEY + +by Wilkie Collins + + + + +AN EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF A YOUNG GIRL + +PERSONS OF THE STORY + + +Women: + + +Lady Lydiard (Widow of Lord Lydiard) + +Isabel Miller (her Adopted Daughter) + +Miss Pink (of South Morden) + +The Hon. Mrs. Drumblade (Sister to the Hon. A. Hardyman) + + +Men + +The Hon. Alfred Hardyman (of the Stud Farm) + +Mr. Felix Sweetsir (Lady Lydiard's Nephew) + +Robert Moody (Lady Lydiard's Steward) + +Mr. Troy (Lady Lydiard's Lawyer) + +Old Sharon (in the Byways of Legal Bohemia) + + +Animal + +Tommie (Lady Lydiard's Dog) + + + + +PART THE FIRST. + +THE DISAPPEARANCE. + + + +CHAPTER I. + +OLD Lady Lydiard sat meditating by the fireside, with three letters +lying open on her lap. + +Time had discolored the paper, and had turned the ink to a brownish hue. +The letters were all addressed to the same person--"THE RT. HON. LORD +LYDIARD"--and were all signed in the same way--"Your affectionate +cousin, James Tollmidge." Judged by these specimens of his +correspondence, Mr. Tollmidge must have possessed one great merit as a +letter-writer--the merit of brevity. He will weary nobody's patience, +if he is allowed to have a hearing. Let him, therefore, be permitted, in +his own high-flown way, to speak for himself. + +_First Letter._--"My statement, as your Lordship requests, shall be +short and to the point. I was doing very well as a portrait-painter +in the country; and I had a wife and children to consider. Under +the circumstances, if I had been left to decide for myself, I should +certainly have waited until I had saved a little money before I ventured +on the serious expense of taking a house and studio at the west end of +London. Your Lordship, I positively declare, encouraged me to try the +experiment without waiting. And here I am, unknown and unemployed, a +helpless artist lost in London--with a sick wife and hungry children, +and bankruptcy staring me in the face. On whose shoulders does this +dreadful responsibility rest? On your Lordship's!" + +_Second Letter._--"After a week's delay, you favor me, my Lord, with a +curt reply. I can be equally curt on my side. I indignantly deny that +I or my wife ever presumed to see your Lordship's name as a means +of recommendation to sitters without your permission. Some enemy has +slandered us. I claim as my right to know the name of that enemy." + +_Third (and last) Letter._--"Another week has passed--and not a word +of answer has reached me from your Lordship. It matters little. I have +employed the interval in making inquiries, and I have at last discovered +the hostile influence which has estranged you from me. I have been, it +seems, so unfortunate as to offend Lady Lydiard (how, I cannot imagine); +and the all-powerful influence of this noble lady is now used against +the struggling artist who is united to you by the sacred ties of +kindred. Be it so. I can fight my way upwards, my Lord, as other men +have done before me. A day may yet come when the throng of carriages +waiting at the door of the fashionable portrait-painter will include her +Ladyship's vehicle, and bring me the tardy expression of her Ladyship's +regret. I refer you, my Lord Lydiard, to that day!" + +Having read Mr. Tollmidge's formidable assertions relating to herself +for the second time, Lady Lydiard's meditations came to an abrupt end. +She rose, took the letters in both hands to tear them up, hesitated, and +threw them back in the cabinet drawer in which she had discovered them, +among other papers that had not been arranged since Lord Lydiard's +death. + +"The idiot!" said her Ladyship, thinking of Mr. Tollmidge, "I never even +heard of him, in my husband's lifetime; I never even knew that he was +really related to Lord Lydiard, till I found his letters. What is to be +done next?" + +She looked, as she put that question to herself, at an open newspaper +thrown on the table, which announced the death of "that accomplished +artist Mr. Tollmidge, related, it is said, to the late well-known +connoisseur, Lord Lydiard." In the next sentence the writer of the +obituary notice deplored the destitute condition of Mrs. Tollmidge and +her children, "thrown helpless on the mercy of the world." Lady Lydiard +stood by the table with her eyes on those lines, and saw but too plainly +the direction in which they pointed--the direction of her check-book. + +Turning towards the fireplace, she rang the bell. "I can do nothing in +this matter," she thought to herself, "until I know whether the report +about Mrs. Tollmidge and her family is to be depended on. Has Moody +come back?" she asked, when the servant appeared at the door. "Moody" +(otherwise her Ladyship's steward) had not come back. Lady Lydiard +dismissed the subject of the artist's widow from further consideration +until the steward returned, and gave her mind to a question of domestic +interest which lay nearer to her heart. Her favorite dog had been ailing +for some time past, and no report of him had reached her that morning. +She opened a door near the fireplace, which led, through a little +corridor hung with rare prints, to her own boudoir. "Isabel!" she called +out, "how is Tommie?" + +A fresh young voice answered from behind the curtain which closed the +further end of the corridor, "No better, my Lady." + +A low growl followed the fresh young voice, and added (in dog's +language), "Much worse, my Lady--much worse!" + +Lady Lydiard closed the door again, with a compassionate sigh for +Tommie, and walked slowly to and fro in her spacious drawing-room, +waiting for the steward's return. + +Accurately described, Lord Lydiard's widow was short and fat, and, in +the matter of age, perilously near her sixtieth birthday. But it may be +said, without paying a compliment, that she looked younger than her age +by ten years at least. Her complexion was of that delicate pink tinge +which is sometimes seen in old women with well-preserved constitutions. +Her eyes (equally well preserved) were of that hard light blue color +which wears well, and does not wash out when tried by the test of +tears. Add to this her short nose, her plump cheeks that set wrinkles at +defiance, her white hair dressed in stiff little curls; and, if a doll +could grow old, Lady Lydiard, at sixty, would have been the living +image of that doll, taking life easily on its journey downwards to the +prettiest of tombs, in a burial-ground where the myrtles and roses grew +all the year round. + +These being her Ladyship's personal merits, impartial history must +acknowledge, on the list of her defects, a total want of tact and taste +in her attire. The lapse of time since Lord Lydiard's death had left her +at liberty to dress as she pleased. She arrayed her short, clumsy figure +in colors that were far too bright for a woman of her age. Her dresses, +badly chosen as to their hues, were perhaps not badly made, but were +certainly badly worn. Morally, as well as physically, it must be said of +Lady Lydiard that her outward side was her worst side. The anomalies +of her dress were matched by the anomalies of her character. There were +moments when she felt and spoke as became a lady of rank; and there were +other moments when she felt and spoke as might have become the cook in +the kitchen. Beneath these superficial inconsistencies, the great heart, +the essentially true and generous nature of the woman, only waited the +sufficient occasion to assert themselves. In the trivial intercourse +of society she was open to ridicule on every side of her. But when a +serious emergency tried the metal of which she was really made, the +people who were loudest in laughing at her stood aghast, and wondered +what had become of the familiar companion of their everyday lives. + +Her Ladyship's promenade had lasted but a little while, when a man in +black clothing presented himself noiselessly at the great door which +opened on the staircase. Lady Lydiard signed to him impatiently to enter +the room. + +"I have been expecting you for some time, Moody," she said. "You look +tired. Take a chair." + +The man in black bowed respectfully, and took his seat. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +ROBERT MOODY was at this time nearly forty years of age. He was a +shy, quiet, dark person, with a pale, closely-shaven face, agreeably +animated by large black eyes, set deep in their orbits. His mouth was +perhaps his best feature; he had firm, well-shaped lips, which softened +on rare occasions into a particularly winning smile. The whole look of +the man, in spite of his habitual reserve, declared him to be eminently +trustworthy. His position in Lady Lydiard's household was in no sense +of the menial sort. He acted as her almoner and secretary as well as her +steward--distributed her charities, wrote her letters on business, paid +her bills, engaged her servants, stocked her wine-cellar, was authorized +to borrow books from her library, and was served with his meals in his +own room. His parentage gave him claims to these special favors; he was +by birth entitled to rank as a gentleman. His father had failed at a +time of commercial panic as a country banker, had paid a good dividend, +and had died in exile abroad a broken-hearted man. Robert had tried +to hold his place in the world, but adverse fortune kept him down. +Undeserved disaster followed him from one employment to another, until +he abandoned the struggle, bade a last farewell to the pride of other +days, and accepted the position considerately and delicately offered to +him in Lady Lydiard's house. He had now no near relations living, and +he had never made many friends. In the intervals of occupation he led a +lonely life in his little room. It was a matter of secret wonder among +the women in the servants' hall, considering his personal advantages and +the opportunities which must surely have been thrown in his way, that +he had never tempted fortune in the character of a married man. Robert +Moody entered into no explanations on that subject. In his own sad and +quiet way he continued to lead his own sad and quiet life. The women all +failing, from the handsome housekeeper downward, to make the smallest +impression on him, consoled themselves by prophetic visions of his +future relations with the sex, and predicted vindictively that "his time +would come." + +"Well," said Lady Lydiard, "and what have you done?" + +"Your Ladyship seemed to be anxious about the dog," Moody answered, in +the low tone which was habitual to him. "I went first to the veterinary +surgeon. He had been called away into the country; and--" + +Lady Lydiard waved away the conclusion of the sentence with her hand. +"Never mind the surgeon. We must find somebody else. Where did you go +next?" + +"To your Ladyship's lawyer. Mr. Troy wished me to say that he will have +the honor of waiting on you--" + +"Pass over the lawyer, Moody. I want to know about the painter's widow. +Is it true that Mrs. Tollmidge and her family are left in helpless +poverty?" + +"Not quite true, my Lady. I have seen the clergyman of the parish, who +takes an interest in the case--" + +Lady Lydiard interrupted her steward for the third time. "Did you +mention my name?" she asked sharply. + +"Certainly not, my Lady. I followed my instructions, and described you +as a benevolent person in search of cases of real distress. It is quite +true that Mr. Tollmidge has died, leaving nothing to his family. But the +widow has a little income of seventy pounds in her own right." + +"Is that enough to live on, Moody?" her Ladyship asked. + +"Enough, in this case, for the widow and her daughter," Moody answered. +"The difficulty is to pay the few debts left standing, and to start the +two sons in life. They are reported to be steady lads; and the family is +much respected in the neighborhood. The clergyman proposes to get a few +influential names to begin with, and to start a subscription." + +"No subscription!" protested Lady Lydiard. "Mr. Tollmidge was Lord +Lydiard's cousin; and Mrs. Tollmidge is related to his Lordship by +marriage. It would be degrading to my husband's memory to have the +begging-box sent round for his relations, no matter how distant they may +be. Cousins!" exclaimed her Ladyship, suddenly descending from the lofty +ranges of sentiment to the low. "I hate the very name of them! A person +who is near enough to me to be my relation and far enough off from me +to be my sweetheart, is a double-faced sort of person that I don't like. +Let's get back to the widow and her sons. How much do they want?" + +"A subscription of five hundred pounds, my Lady, would provide for +everything--if it could only be collected." + +"It _shall_ be collected, Moody! I will pay the subscription out of my +own purse." Having asserted herself in those noble terms, she spoilt the +effect of her own outburst of generosity by dropping to the sordid view +of the subject in her next sentence. "Five hundred pounds is a good bit +of money, though; isn't it, Moody?" + +"It is, indeed, my Lady." Rich and generous as he knew his mistress +to be, her proposal to pay the whole subscription took the steward by +surprise. Lady Lydiard's quick perception instantly detected what was +passing in his mind. + +"You don't quite understand my position in this matter," she said. "When +I read the newspaper notice of Mr. Tollmidge's death, I searched among +his Lordship's papers to see if they really were related. I discovered +some letters from Mr. Tollmidge, which showed me that he and Lord +Lydiard were cousins. One of those letters contains some very painful +statements, reflecting most untruly and unjustly on my conduct; lies, +in short," her Ladyship burst out, losing her dignity, as usual. "Lies, +Moody, for which Mr. Tollmidge deserved to be horsewhipped. I would have +done it myself if his Lordship had told me at the time. No matter; it's +useless to dwell on the thing now," she continued, ascending again to +the forms of expression which became a lady of rank. "This unhappy man +has done me a gross injustice; my motives may be seriously misjudged, if +I appear personally in communicating with his family. If I relieve them +anonymously in their present trouble, I spare them the exposure of a +public subscription, and I do what I believe his Lordship would have +done himself if he had lived. My desk is on the other table. Bring it +here, Moody; and let me return good for evil, while I'm in the humor for +it!" + +Moody obeyed in silence. Lady Lydiard wrote a check. + +"Take that to the banker's, and bring back a five-hundred pound note," +she said. "I'll inclose it to the clergyman as coming from 'an unknown +friend.' And be quick about it. I am only a fallible mortal, Moody. +Don't leave me time enough to take the stingy view of five hundred +pounds." + +Moody went out with the check. No delay was to be apprehended in +obtaining the money; the banking-house was hard by, in St. James's +Street. Left alone, Lady Lydiard decided on occupying her mind in the +generous direction by composing her anonymous letter to the clergyman. +She had just taken a sheet of note-paper from her desk, when a servant +appeared at the door announcing a visitor-- + +"Mr. Felix Sweetsir!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +"MY nephew!" Lady Lydiard exclaimed in a tone which expressed +astonishment, but certainly not pleasure as well. "How many years is it +since you and I last met?" she asked, in her abruptly straightforward +way, as Mr. Felix Sweetsir approached her writing-table. + +The visitor was not a person easily discouraged. He took Lady Lydiard's +hand, and kissed it with easy grace. A shade of irony was in his manner, +agreeably relieved by a playful flash of tenderness. + +"Years, my dear aunt?" he said. "Look in your glass and you will see +that time has stood still since we met last. How wonderfully well you +wear! When shall we celebrate the appearance of your first wrinkle? I am +too old; I shall never live to see it." + +He took an easychair, uninvited; placed himself close at his aunt's +side, and ran his eye over her ill-chosen dress with an air of satirical +admiration. "How perfectly successful!" he said, with his well-bred +insolence. "What a chaste gayety of color!" + +"What do you want?" asked her Ladyship, not in the least softened by the +compliment. + +"I want to pay my respects to my dear aunt," Felix answered, perfectly +impenetrable to his ungracious reception, and perfectly comfortable in a +spacious arm-chair. + +No pen-and-ink portrait need surely be drawn of Felix Sweetsir--he is +too well-known a picture in society. The little lithe man, with his +bright, restless eyes, and his long iron-gray hair falling in curls to +his shoulders, his airy step and his cordial manner; his uncertain age, +his innumerable accomplishments, and his unbounded popularity--is he not +familiar everywhere, and welcome everywhere? How gratefully he receives, +how prodigally he repays, the cordial appreciation of an admiring +world! Every man he knows is "a charming fellow." Every woman he sees +is "sweetly pretty." What picnics he gives on the banks of the Thames in +the summer season! What a well-earned little income he derives from the +whist-table! What an inestimable actor he is at private theatricals +of all sorts (weddings included)! Did you never read Sweetsir's novel, +dashed off in the intervals of curative perspiration at a German bath? +Then you don't know what brilliant fiction really is. He has never +written a second work; he does everything, and only does it once. One +song--the despair of professional composers. One picture--just to show +how easily a gentleman can take up an art and drop it again. A +really multiform man, with all the graces and all the accomplishments +scintillating perpetually at his fingers' ends. If these poor pages +have achieved nothing else, they have done a service to persons not +in society by presenting them to Sweetsir. In his gracious company +the narrative brightens; and writer and reader (catching reflected +brilliancy) understand each other at last, thanks to Sweetsir. + +"Well," said Lady Lydiard, "now you are here, what have you got to say +for yourself? You have been abroad, of course! Where?" + +"Principally at Paris, my dear aunt. The only place that is fit to live +in--for this excellent reason, that the French are the only people who +know how to make the most of life. One has relations and friends in +England and every now and then one returns to London--" + +"When one has spent all one's money in Paris," her Ladyship interposed. +"That's what you were going to say, isn't it?" + +Felix submitted to the interruption with his delightful good-humor. + +"What a bright creature you are!" he exclaimed. "What would I not give +for your flow of spirits! Yes--one does spend money in Paris, as you +say. The clubs, the stock exchange, the race-course: you try your luck +here, there, and everywhere; and you lose and win, win and lose--and you +haven't a dull day to complain of." He paused, his smile died away, he +looked inquiringly at Lady Lydiard. "What a wonderful existence +yours must be," he resumed. "The everlasting question with your needy +fellow-creatures, 'Where am I to get money?' is a question that has +never passed your lips. Enviable woman!" He paused once more--surprised +and puzzled this time. "What is the matter, my dear aunt? You seem to be +suffering under some uneasiness." + +"I am suffering under your conversation," her Ladyship answered sharply. +"Money is a sore subject with me just now," she went on, with her eyes +on her nephew, watching the effect of what she said. "I have spent five +hundred pounds this morning with a scrape of my pen. And, only a +week since, I yielded to temptation and made an addition to my +picture-gallery." She looked, as she said those words, towards an +archway at the further end of the room, closed by curtains of purple +velvet. "I really tremble when I think of what that one picture cost me +before I could call it mine. A landscape by Hobbema; and the National +Gallery bidding against me. Never mind!" she concluded, consoling +herself, as usual, with considerations that were beneath her. "Hobbema +will sell at my death for a bigger price than I gave for him--that's one +comfort!" She looked again at Felix; a smile of mischievous +satisfaction began to show itself in her face. "Anything wrong with your +watch-chain?" she asked. + +Felix, absently playing with his watch-chain, started as if his aunt +had suddenly awakened him. While Lady Lydiard had been speaking, his +vivacity had subsided little by little, and had left him looking so +serious and so old that his most intimate friend would hardly have known +him again. Roused by the sudden question that had been put to him, he +seemed to be casting about in his mind in search of the first excuse for +his silence that might turn up. + +"I was wondering," he began, "why I miss something when I look round +this beautiful room; something familiar, you know, that I fully expected +to find here." + +"Tommie?" suggested Lady Lydiard, still watching her nephew as +maliciously as ever. + +"That's it!" cried Felix, seizing his excuse, and rallying his spirits. +"Why don't I hear Tommie snarling behind me; why don't I feel Tommie's +teeth in my trousers?" + +The smile vanished from Lady Lydiard's face; the tone taken by her +nephew in speaking of her dog was disrespectful in the extreme. +She showed him plainly that she disapproved of it. Felix went on, +nevertheless, impenetrable to reproof of the silent sort. "Dear little +Tommie! So delightfully fat; and such an infernal temper! I don't know +whether I hate him or love him. Where is he?" + +"Ill in bed," answered her ladyship, with a gravity which startled even +Felix himself. "I wish to speak to you about Tommie. You know everybody. +Do you know of a good dog-doctor? The person I have employed so far +doesn't at all satisfy me." + +"Professional person?" inquired Felix. + +"Yes." + +"All humbugs, my dear aunt. The worse the dog gets the bigger the bill +grows, don't you see? I have got the man for you--a gentleman. Knows +more about horses and dogs than all the veterinary surgeons put +together. We met in the boat yesterday crossing the Channel. You +know him by name, of course? Lord Rotherfield's youngest son, Alfred +Hardyman." + +"The owner of the stud farm? The man who has bred the famous +racehorses?" cried Lady Lydiard. "My dear Felix, how can I presume to +trouble such a great personage about my dog?" + +Felix burst into his genial laugh. "Never was modesty more woefully +out of place," he rejoined. "Hardyman is dying to be presented to your +Ladyship. He has heard, like everybody, of the magnificent decorations +of this house, and he is longing to see them. His chambers are close by, +in Pall Mall. If he is at home we will have him here in five minutes. +Perhaps I had better see the dog first?" + +Lady Lydiard shook her head. "Isabel says he had better not be +disturbed," she answered. "Isabel understands him better than anybody." + +Felix lifted his lively eyebrows with a mixed expression of curiosity +and surprise. "Who is Isabel?" + +Lady Lydiard was vexed with herself for carelessly mentioning Isabel's +name in her nephew's presence. Felix was not the sort of person whom she +was desirous of admitting to her confidence in domestic matters. "Isabel +is an addition to my household since you were here last," she answered +shortly. + +"Young and pretty?" inquired Felix. "Ah! you look serious, and you +don't answer me. Young and pretty, evidently. Which may I see first, the +addition to your household or the addition to your picture-gallery? You +look at the picture-gallery--I am answered again." He rose to approach +the archway, and stopped at his first step forward. "A sweet girl is a +dreadful responsibility, aunt," he resumed, with an ironical assumption +of gravity. "Do you know, I shouldn't be surprised if Isabel, in the +long run, cost you more than Hobbema. Who is this at the door?" + +The person at the door was Robert Moody, returned from the bank. Mr. +Felix Sweetsir, being near-sighted, was obliged to fit his eye-glass in +position before he could recognize the prime minister of Lady Lydiard's +household. + +"Ha! our worthy Moody. How well he wears! Not a gray hair on his +head--and look at mine! What dye do you use, Moody? If he had my open +disposition he would tell. As it is, he looks unutterable things, and +holds his tongue. Ah! if I could only have held _my_ tongue--when I +was in the diplomatic service, you know--what a position I might have +occupied by this time! Don't let me interrupt you, Moody, if you have +anything to say to Lady Lydiard." + +Having acknowledged Mr. Sweetsir's lively greeting by a formal bow, +and a grave look of wonder which respectfully repelled that vivacious +gentleman's flow of humor, Moody turned towards his mistress. + +"Have you got the bank-note?" asked her Ladyship. + +Moody laid the bank-note on the table. + +"Am I in the way?" inquired Felix. + +"No," said his aunt. "I have a letter to write; it won't occupy me +for more than a few minutes. You can stay here, or go and look at the +Hobbema, which you please." + +Felix made a second sauntering attempt to reach the picture-gallery. +Arrived within a few steps of the entrance, he stopped again, attracted +by an open cabinet of Italian workmanship, filled with rare old china. +Being nothing if not a cultivated amateur, Mr. Sweetsir paused to pay +his passing tribute of admiration before the contents of the cabinet. +"Charming! charming!" he said to himself, with his head twisted +appreciatively a little on one side. Lady Lydiard and Moody left him in +undisturbed enjoyment of the china, and went on with the business of the +bank-note. + +"Ought we to take the number of the note, in case of accident?" asked +her Ladyship. + +Moody produced a slip of paper from his waistcoat pocket. "I took the +number, my Lady, at the bank." + +"Very well. You keep it. While I am writing my letter, suppose you +direct the envelope. What is the clergyman's name?" + +Moody mentioned the name and directed the envelope. Felix, happening to +look round at Lady Lydiard and the steward while they were both engaged +in writing, returned suddenly to the table as if he had been struck by a +new idea. + +"Is there a third pen?" he asked. "Why shouldn't I write a line at once +to Hardyman, aunt? The sooner you have his opinion about Tommie the +better--don't you think so?" + +Lady Lydiard pointed to the pen tray, with a smile. To show +consideration for her dog was to seize irresistibly on the high-road +to her favor. Felix set to work on his letter, in a large scrambling +handwriting, with plenty of ink and a noisy pen. "I declare we are like +clerks in an office," he remarked, in his cheery way. "All with our +noses to the paper, writing as if we lived by it! Here, Moody, let one +of the servants take this at once to Mr. Hardyman's." + +The messenger was despatched. Robert returned, and waited near his +mistress, with the directed envelope in his hand. Felix sauntered back +slowly towards the picture-gallery, for the third time. In a moment more +Lady Lydiard finished her letter, and folded up the bank-note in it. She +had just taken the directed envelope from Moody, and had just placed the +letter inside it, when a scream from the inner room, in which Isabel was +nursing the sick dog, startled everybody. "My Lady! my Lady!" cried the +girl, distractedly, "Tommie is in a fit? Tommie is dying!" + +Lady Lydiard dropped the unclosed envelope on the table, and ran--yes, +short as she was and fat as she was, ran--into the inner room. The two +men, left together, looked at each other. + +"Moody," said Felix, in his lazily-cynical way, "do you think if you or +I were in a fit that her Ladyship would run? Bah! these are the things +that shake one's faith in human nature. I feel infernally seedy. That +cursed Channel passage--I tremble in my inmost stomach when I think of +it. Get me something, Moody." + +"What shall I send you, sir?" Moody asked coldly. + +"Some dry curacoa and a biscuit. And let it be brought to me in the +picture-gallery. Damn the dog! I'll go and look at Hobbema." + +This time he succeeded in reaching the archway, and disappeared behind +the curtains of the picture-gallery. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +LEFT alone in the drawing-room, Moody looked at the unfastened envelope +on the table. + +Considering the value of the inclosure, might he feel justified in +wetting the gum and securing the envelope for safety's sake? After +thinking it over, Moody decided that he was not justified in meddling +with the letter. On reflection, her Ladyship might have changes to make +in it or might have a postscript to add to what she had already written. +Apart too, from these considerations, was it reasonable to act as if +Lady Lydiard's house was a hotel, perpetually open to the intrusion of +strangers? Objects worth twice five hundred pounds in the aggregate were +scattered about on the tables and in the unlocked cabinets all round +him. Moody withdrew, without further hesitation, to order the light +restorative prescribed for himself by Mr. Sweetsir. + +The footman who took the curacoa into the picture gallery found Felix +recumbent on a sofa, admiring the famous Hobbema. + +"Don't interrupt me," he said peevishly, catching the servant in the act +of staring at him. "Put down the bottle and go!" Forbidden to look at +Mr. Sweetsir, the man's eyes as he left the gallery turned wonderingly +towards the famous landscape. And what did he see? He saw one towering +big cloud in the sky that threatened rain, two withered mahogany-colored +trees sorely in want of rain, a muddy road greatly the worse for rain, +and a vagabond boy running home who was afraid of the rain. That was the +picture, to the footman's eye. He took a gloomy view of the state of Mr. +Sweetsir's brains on his return to the servants' hall. "A slate loose, +poor devil!" That was the footman's report of the brilliant Felix. + +Immediately on the servant's departure, the silence in the +picture-gallery was broken by voices penetrating into it from the +drawing-room. Felix rose to a sitting position on the sofa. He had +recognized the voice of Alfred Hardyman saying, "Don't disturb Lady +Lydiard," and the voice of Moody answering, "I will just knock at the +door of her Ladyship's room, sir; you will find Mr. Sweetsir in the +picture-gallery." + +The curtains over the archway parted, and disclosed the figure of a tall +man, with a closely cropped head set a little stiffly on his shoulders. +The immovable gravity of face and manner which every Englishman seems to +acquire who lives constantly in the society of horses, was the gravity +which this gentleman displayed as he entered the picture-gallery. He was +a finely made, sinewy man, with clearly cut, regular features. If he had +not been affected with horses on the brain he would doubtless have been +personally popular with the women. As it was, the serene and hippic +gloom of the handsome horse-breeder daunted the daughters of Eve, +and they failed to make up their minds about the exact value of him, +socially considered. Alfred Hardyman was nevertheless a remarkable man +in his way. He had been offered the customary alternatives submitted +to the younger sons of the nobility--the Church or the diplomatic +service--and had refused the one and the other. "I like horses," he +said, "and I mean to get my living out of them. Don't talk to me about +my position in the world. Talk to my eldest brother, who gets the money +and the title." Starting in life with these sensible views, and with a +small capital of five thousand pounds, Hardyman took his own place in +the sphere that was fitted for him. At the period of this narrative +he was already a rich man, and one of the greatest authorities on +horse-breeding in England. His prosperity made no change in him. He was +always the same grave, quiet, obstinately resolute man--true to the few +friends whom he admitted to his intimacy, and sincere to a fault in the +expression of his feelings among persons whom he distrusted or disliked. +As he entered the picture-gallery and paused for a moment looking at +Felix on the sofa, his large, cold, steady gray eyes rested on the +little man with an indifference that just verged on contempt. Felix, on +the other hand, sprang to his feet with alert politeness and greeted his +friend with exuberant cordiality. + +"Dear old boy! This is so good of you," he began. "I feel it--I do +assure you I feel it!" + +"You needn't trouble yourself to feel it," was the quietly-ungracious +answer. "Lady Lydiard brings me here. I come to see the house--and the +dog." He looked round the gallery in his gravely attentive way. "I don't +understand pictures," he remarked resignedly. "I shall go back to the +drawing-room." + +After a moment's consideration, Felix followed him into the +drawing-room, with the air of a man who was determined not to be +repelled. + +"Well?" asked Hardyman. "What is it?" + +"About that matter?" Felix said, inquiringly. + +"What matter?" + +"Oh, you know. Will next week do?" + +"Next week _won't_ do." + +Mr. Felix Sweetsir cast one look at his friend. His friend was too +intently occupied with the decorations of the drawing-room to notice the +look. + +"Will to-morrow do?" Felix resumed, after an interval. + +"Yes." + +"At what time?" + +"Between twelve and one in the afternoon." + +"Between twelve and one in the afternoon," Felix repeated. He looked +again at Hardyman and took his hat. "Make my apologies to my aunt," he +said. "You must introduce yourself to her Ladyship. I can't wait here +any longer." He walked out of the room, having deliberately returned the +contemptuous indifference of Hardyman by a similar indifference on his +own side, at parting. + +Left by himself, Hardyman took a chair and glanced at the door which led +into the boudoir. The steward had knocked at that door, had disappeared +through it, and had not appeared again. How much longer was Lady +Lydiard's visitor to be left unnoticed in Lady Lydiard's house? + +As the question passed through his mind the boudoir door opened. For +once in his life, Alfred Hardyman's composure deserted him. He started +to his feet, like an ordinary mortal taken completely by surprise. + +Instead of Mr. Moody, instead of Lady Lydiard, there appeared in the +open doorway a young woman in a state of embarrassment, who actually +quickened the beat of Mr. Hardyman's heart the moment he set eyes on +her. Was the person who produced this amazing impression at first sight +a person of importance? Nothing of the sort. She was only "Isabel" +surnamed "Miller." Even her name had nothing in it. Only "Isabel +Miller!" + +Had she any pretensions to distinction in virtue of her personal +appearance? + +It is not easy to answer the question. The women (let us put the +worst judges first) had long since discovered that she wanted that +indispensable elegance of figure which is derived from slimness of +waist and length of limb. The men (who were better acquainted with the +subject) looked at her figure from their point of view; and, finding it +essentially embraceable, asked for nothing more. It might have been her +bright complexion or it might have been the bold luster of her eyes (as +the women considered it), that dazzled the lords of creation generally, +and made them all alike incompetent to discover her faults. Still, +she had compensating attractions which no severity of criticism could +dispute. Her smile, beginning at her lips, flowed brightly and instantly +over her whole face. A delicious atmosphere of health, freshness, and +good humor seemed to radiate from her wherever she went and whatever she +did. For the rest her brown hair grew low over her broad white forehead, +and was topped by a neat little lace cap with ribbons of a violet color. +A plain collar and plain cuffs encircled her smooth, round neck, and +her plump dimpled hands. Her merino dress, covering but not hiding the +charming outline of her bosom, matched the color of the cap-ribbons, and +was brightened by a white muslin apron coquettishly trimmed about the +pockets, a gift from Lady Lydiard. Blushing and smiling, she let the +door fall to behind her, and, shyly approaching the stranger, said +to him, in her small, clear voice, "If you please, sir, are you Mr. +Hardyman?" + +The gravity of the great horse-breeder deserted him at her first +question. He smiled as he acknowledged that he was "Mr. Hardyman"--he +smiled as he offered her a chair. + +"No, thank you, sir," she said, with a quaintly pretty inclination of +her head. "I am only sent here to make her Ladyship's apologies. She has +put the poor dear dog into a warm bath, and she can't leave him. And Mr. +Moody can't come instead of me, because I was too frightened to be of +any use, and so he had to hold the dog. That's all. We are very anxious +sir, to know if the warm bath is the right thing. Please come into the +room and tell us." + +She led the way back to the door. Hardyman, naturally enough, was +slow to follow her. When a man is fascinated by the charm of youth and +beauty, he is in no hurry to transfer his attention to a sick animal +in a bath. Hardyman seized on the first excuse that he could devise +for keeping Isabel to himself--that is to say, for keeping her in the +drawing-room. + +"I think I shall be better able to help you," he said, "if you will tell +me something about the dog first." + +Even his accent in speaking had altered to a certain degree. The quiet, +dreary monotone in which he habitually spoke quickened a little under +his present excitement. As for Isabel, she was too deeply interested +in Tommie's welfare to suspect that she was being made the victim of a +stratagem. She left the door and returned to Hardyman with eager eyes. +"What can I tell you, sir?" she asked innocently. + +Hardyman pressed his advantage without mercy. + +"You can tell me what sort of dog he is?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"How old he is?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"What his name is?--what his temper is?--what his illness is? what +diseases his father and mother had?--what--" + +Isabel's head began to turn giddy. "One thing at a time, sir!" she +interposed, with a gesture of entreaty. "The dog sleeps on my bed, and I +had a bad night with him, he disturbed me so, and I am afraid I am very +stupid this morning. His name is Tommie. We are obliged to call him by +it, because he won't answer to any other than the name he had when my +Lady bought him. But we spell it with an _i e_ at the end, which makes +it less vulgar than Tommy with a _y_. I am very sorry, sir--I forget +what else you wanted to know. Please to come in here and my Lady will +tell you everything." + +She tried to get back to the door of the boudoir. Hardyman, feasting +his eyes on the pretty, changeful face that looked up at him with such +innocent confidence in his authority, drew her away from the door by the +one means at his disposal. He returned to his questions about Tommie. + +"Wait a little, please. What sort of dog is he?" + +Isabel turned back again from the door. To describe Tommie was a labor +of love. "He is the most beautiful dog in the world!" the girl began, +with kindling eyes. "He has the most exquisite white curly hair and two +light brown patches on his back--and, oh! _such_ lovely dark eyes! +They call him a Scotch terrier. When he is well his appetite is truly +wonderful--nothing comes amiss to him, sir, from pate de foie gras to +potatoes. He has his enemies, poor dear, though you wouldn't think it. +People who won't put up with being bitten by him (what shocking tempers +one does meet with, to be sure!) call him a mongrel. Isn't it a shame? +Please come in and see him, sir; my Lady will be tired of waiting." + +Another journey to the door followed those words, checked instantly by a +serious objection. + +"Stop a minute! You must tell me what his temper is, or I can do nothing +for him." + +Isabel returned once more, feeling that it was really serious this time. +Her gravity was even more charming than her gayety. As she lifted +her face to him, with large solemn eyes, expressive of her sense of +responsibility, Hardyman would have given every horse in his stables to +have had the privilege of taking her in his arms and kissing her. + +"Tommie has the temper of an angel with the people he likes," she said. +"When he bites, it generally means that he objects to strangers. He +loves my Lady, and he loves Mr. Moody, and he loves me, and--and I think +that's all. This way, sir, if you please, I am sure I heard my Lady +call." + +"No," said Hardyman, in his immovably obstinate way. "Nobody called. +About this dog's temper? Doesn't he take to any strangers? What sort of +people does he bite in general?" + +Isabel's pretty lips began to curl upward at the corners in a quaint +smile. Hardyman's last imbecile question had opened her eyes to the +true state of the case. Still, Tommie's future was in this strange +gentleman's hands; she felt bound to consider that. And, moreover, it +was no everyday event, in Isabel's experience, to fascinate a famous +personage, who was also a magnificent and perfectly dressed man. She ran +the risk of wasting another minute or two, and went on with the memoirs +of Tommie. + +"I must own, sir," she resumed, "that he behaves a little +ungratefully--even to strangers who take an interest in him. When he +gets lost in the streets (which is very often), he sits down on the +pavement and howls till he collects a pitying crowd round him; and when +they try to read his name and address on his collar he snaps at them. +The servants generally find him and bring him back; and as soon as he +gets home he turns round on the doorstep and snaps at the servants. I +think it must be his fun. You should see him sitting up in his chair at +dinner-time, waiting to be helped, with his fore paws on the edge of the +table, like the hands of a gentleman at a public dinner making a speech. +But, oh!" cried Isabel, checking herself, with the tears in her eyes, +"how can I talk of him in this way when he is so dreadfully ill! Some of +them say it's bronchitis, and some say it's his liver. Only yesterday I +took him to the front door to give him a little air, and he stood still +on the pavement, quite stupefied. For the first time in his life, he +snapped at nobody who went by; and, oh, dear, he hadn't even the heart +to smell a lamp-post!" + +Isabel had barely stated this last afflicting circumstance when +the memoirs of Tommie were suddenly cut short by the voice of Lady +Lydiard--really calling this time--from the inner room. + +"Isabel! Isabel!" cried her Ladyship, "what are you about?" + +Isabel ran to the door of the boudoir and threw it open. "Go in, sir! +Pray go in!" she said. + +"Without you?" Hardyman asked. + +"I will follow you, sir. I have something to do for her Ladyship first." + +She still held the door open, and pointed entreatingly to the passage +which led to the boudoir "I shall be blamed, sir," she said, "if you +don't go in." + +This statement of the case left Hardyman no alternative. He presented +himself to Lady Lydiard without another moment of delay. + +Having closed the drawing-room door on him, Isabel waited a little, +absorbed in her own thoughts. + +She was now perfectly well aware of the effect which she had produced +on Hardyman. Her vanity, it is not to be denied, was flattered by his +admiration--he was so grand and so tall, and he had such fine large +eyes. The girl looked prettier than ever as she stood with her head +down and her color heightened, smiling to herself. A clock on the +chimney-piece striking the half-hour roused her. She cast one look at +the glass, as she passed it, and went to the table at which Lady Lydiard +had been writing. + +Methodical Mr. Moody, in submitting to be employed as bath-attendant +upon Tommie, had not forgotten the interests of his mistress. He +reminded her Ladyship that she had left her letter, with a bank-note +inclosed in it, unsealed. Absorbed in the dog, Lady Lydiard answered, +"Isabel is doing nothing, let Isabel seal it. Show Mr. Hardyman in +here," she continued, turning to Isabel, "and then seal a letter of +mine which you will find on the table." "And when you have sealed it," +careful Mr. Moody added, "put it back on the table; I will take charge +of it when her Ladyship has done with me." + +Such were the special instructions which now detained Isabel in the +drawing-room. She lighted the taper, and closed and sealed the open +envelope, without feeling curiosity enough even to look at the address. +Mr. Hardyman was the uppermost subject in her thoughts. Leaving the +sealed letter on the table, she returned to the fireplace, and studied +her own charming face attentively in the looking-glass. The time +passed--and Isabel's reflection was still the subject of Isabel's +contemplation. "He must see many beautiful ladies," she thought, +veering backward and forward between pride and humility. "I wonder what +he sees in Me?" + +The clock struck the hour. Almost at the same moment the boudoir-door +opened, and Robert Moody, released at last from attendance on Tommie, +entered the drawing-room. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +"WELL?" asked Isabel eagerly, "what does Mr. Hardyman say? Does he think +he can cure Tommie?" + +Moody answered a little coldly and stiffly. His dark, deeply-set eyes +rested on Isabel with an uneasy look. + +"Mr. Hardyman seems to understand animals," he said. "He lifted the +dog's eyelid and looked at his eyes, and then he told us the bath was +useless." + +"Go on!" said Isabel impatiently. "He did something, I suppose, besides +telling you that the bath was useless?" + +"He took a knife out of his pocket, with a lancet in it." + +Isabel clasped her hands with a faint cry of horror. "Oh, Mr. Moody! did +he hurt Tommie?" + +"Hurt him?" Moody repeated, indignant at the interest which she felt in +the animal, and the indifference which she exhibited towards the man +(as represented by himself). "Hurt him, indeed! Mr. Hardyman bled the +brute--" + +"Brute?" Isabel reiterated, with flashing eyes. "I know some people, Mr. +Moody, who really deserve to be called by that horrid word. If you can't +say 'Tommie,' when you speak of him in my presence, be so good as to say +'the dog.'" + +Moody yielded with the worst possible grace. "Oh, very well! Mr. +Hardyman bled the dog, and brought him to his senses directly. I am +charged to tell you--" He stopped, as if the message which he was +instructed to deliver was in the last degree distasteful to him. + +"Well, what were you charged to tell me?" + +"I was to say that Mr. Hardyman will give you instructions how to treat +the dog for the future." + +Isabel hastened to the door, eager to receive her instructions. Moody +stopped her before she could open it. + +"You are in a great hurry to get to Mr. Hardyman," he remarked. + +Isabel looked back at him in surprise. "You said just now that Mr. +Hardyman was waiting to tell me how to nurse Tommie." + +"Let him wait," Moody rejoined sternly. "When I left him, he was +sufficiently occupied in expressing his favorable opinion of you to her +Ladyship." + +The steward's pale face turned paler still as he said those words. +With the arrival of Isabel in Lady Lydiard's house "his time had +come"--exactly as the women in the servants' hall had predicted. At last +the impenetrable man felt the influence of the sex; at last he knew the +passion of love misplaced, ill-starred, hopeless love, for a woman who +was young enough to be his child. He had already spoken to Isabel +more than once in terms which told his secret plainly enough. But the +smouldering fire of jealousy in the man, fanned into flame by Hardyman, +now showed itself for the first time. His looks, even more than his +words, would have warned a woman with any knowledge of the natures of +men to be careful how she answered him. Young, giddy, and inexperienced, +Isabel followed the flippant impulse of the moment, without a thought +of the consequences. "I'm sure it's very kind of Mr. Hardyman to speak +favorably of me," she said, with a pert little laugh. "I hope you are +not jealous of him, Mr. Moody?" + +Moody was in no humor to make allowances for the unbridled gayety of +youth and good spirits. + +"I hate any man who admires you," he burst out passionately, "let him be +who he may!" + +Isabel looked at her strange lover with unaffected astonishment. How +unlike Mr. Hardyman, who had treated her as a lady from first to last! +"What an odd man you are!" she said. "You can't take a joke. I'm sure I +didn't mean to offend you." + +"You don't offend me--you do worse, you distress me." + +Isabel's color began to rise. The merriment died out of her face; she +looked at Moody gravely. "I don't like to be accused of distressing +people when I don't deserve it," she said. "I had better leave you. Let +me by, if you please." + +Having committed one error in offending her, Moody committed another in +attempting to make his peace with her. Acting under the fear that she +would really leave him, he took her roughly by the arm. + +"You are always trying to get away from me," he said. "I wish I knew how +to make you like me, Isabel." + +"I don't allow you to call me Isabel!" she retorted, struggling to free +herself from his hold. "Let go of my arm. You hurt me." + +Moody dropped her arm with a bitter sigh. "I don't know how to deal with +you," he said simply. "Have some pity on me!" + +If the steward had known anything of women (at Isabel's age) he would +never have appealed to her mercy in those plain terms, and at the +unpropitious moment. "Pity you?" she repeated contemptuously. "Is that +all you have to say to me after hurting my arm? What a bear you are!" +She shrugged her shoulders and put her hands coquettishly into the +pockets of her apron. That was how she pitied him! His face turned paler +and paler--he writhed under it. + +"For God's sake, don't turn everything I say to you into ridicule!" he +cried. "You know I love you with all my heart and soul. Again and again +I have asked you to be my wife--and you laugh at me as if it was a joke. +I haven't deserved to be treated in that cruel way. It maddens me--I +can't endure it!" + +Isabel looked down on the floor, and followed the lines in the pattern +of the carpet with the end of her smart little shoe. She could hardly +have been further away from really understanding Moody if he had spoken +in Hebrew. She was partly startled, partly puzzled, by the strong +emotions which she had unconsciously called into being. "Oh dear +me!" she said, "why can't you talk of something else? Why can't we be +friends? Excuse me for mentioning it," she went on, looking up at him +with a saucy smile, "you are old enough to be my father." + +Moody's head sank on his breast. "I own it," he answered humbly. "But +there is something to be said for me. Men as old as I am have made good +husbands before now. I would devote my whole life to make you happy. +There isn't a wish you could form which I wouldn't be proud to obey. You +must not reckon me by years. My youth has not been wasted in a profligate +life; I can be truer to you and fonder of you than many a younger man. +Surely my heart is not quite unworthy of you, when it is all yours. +I have lived such a lonely, miserable life--and you might so easily +brighten it. You are kind to everybody else, Isabel. Tell me, dear, why +are you so hard on _me?_" + +His voice trembled as he appealed to her in those simple words. He had +taken the right way at last to produce an impression on her. She really +felt for him. All that was true and tender in her nature began to rise +in her and take his part. Unhappily, he felt too deeply and too strongly +to be patient, and give her time. He completely misinterpreted her +silence--completely mistook the motive that made her turn aside for a +moment, to gather composure enough to speak to him. "Ah!" he burst out +bitterly, turning away on his side, "you have no heart." + +She instantly resented those unjust words. At that moment they wounded +her to the quick. + +"You know best," she said. "I have no doubt you are right. Remember one +thing, however, that though I have no heart, I have never encouraged +you, Mr. Moody. I have declared over and over again that I could only +be your friend. Understand that for the future, if you please. There are +plenty of nice women who will be glad to marry you, I have no doubt. +You will always have my best wishes for your welfare. Good-morning. +Her Ladyship will wonder what has become of me. Be so kind as to let me +pass." + +Tortured by the passion that consumed him, Moody obstinately kept his +place between Isabel and the door. The unworthy suspicion of her, which +had been in his mind all through the interview, now forced its way +outwards to expression at last. + +"No woman ever used a man as you use me without some reason for it," he +said. "You have kept your secret wonderfully well--but sooner or later +all secrets get found out. I know what is in your mind as well as you +know it yourself. You are in love with some other man." + +Isabel's face flushed deeply; the defensive pride of her sex was up +in arms in an instant. She cast one disdainful look at Moody, without +troubling herself to express her contempt in words. "Stand out of my +way, sir!"--that was all she said to him. + +"You are in love with some other man," he reiterated passionately. "Deny +it if you can!" + +"Deny it?" she repeated, with flashing eyes. "What right have you to ask +the question? Am I not free to do as I please?" + +He stood looking at her, meditating his next words with a sudden and +sinister change to self-restraint. Suppressed rage was in his rigidly +set eyes, suppressed rage was in his trembling hand as he raised it +emphatically while he spoke his next words. + +"I have one thing more to say," he answered, "and then I have done. If +I am not your husband, no other man shall be. Look well to it, Isabel +Miller. If there _is_ another man between us, I can tell him this--he +shall find it no easy matter to rob me of you!" + +She started, and turned pale--but it was only for a moment. The high +spirit that was in her rose brightly in her eyes, and faced him without +shrinking. + +"Threats?" she said, with quiet contempt. "When you make love, Mr. +Moody, you take strange ways of doing it. My conscience is easy. You may +try to frighten me, but you will not succeed. When you have recovered +your temper I will accept your excuses." She paused, and pointed to the +table. "There is the letter that you told me to leave for you when I +had sealed it," she went on. "I suppose you have her Ladyship's orders. +Isn't it time you began to think of obeying them?" + +The contemptuous composure of her tone and manner seemed to act on Moody +with crushing effect. Without a word of answer, the unfortunate steward +took up the letter from the table. Without a word of answer, he walked +mechanically to the great door which opened on the staircase--turned on +the threshold to look at Isabel--waited a moment, pale and still--and +suddenly left the room. + +That silent departure, that hopeless submission, impressed Isabel in +spite of herself. The sustaining sense of injury and insult sank, as it +were, from under her the moment she was alone. He had not been gone a +minute before she began to be sorry for him once more. The interview had +taught her nothing. She was neither old enough nor experienced enough +to understand the overwhelming revolution produced in a man's character +when he feels the passion of love for the first time in the maturity of +his life. If Moody had stolen a kiss at the first opportunity, she would +have resented the liberty he had taken with her; but she would have +thoroughly understood him. His terrible earnestness, his overpowering +agitation, his abrupt violence--all these evidences of a passion that +was a mystery to himself--simply puzzled her. "I'm sure I didn't wish to +hurt his feelings" (such was the form that her reflections took, in her +present penitent frame of mind); "but why did he provoke me? It is a +shame to tell me that I love some other man--when there is no other man. +I declare I begin to hate the men, if they are all like Mr. Moody. I +wonder whether he will forgive me when he sees me again? I'm sure I'm +willing to forget and forgive on my side--especially if he won't insist +on my being fond of him because he is fond of me. Oh, dear! I wish he +would come back and shake hands. It's enough to try the patience of a +saint to be treated in this way. I wish I was ugly! The ugly ones have +a quiet time of it--the men let them be. Mr. Moody! Mr. Moody!" She went +out to the landing and called to him softly. There was no answer. He was +no longer in the house. She stood still for a moment in silent vexation. +"I'll go to Tommie!" she decided. "I'm sure he's the more agreeable +company of the two. And--oh, good gracious! there's Mr. Hardyman waiting +to give me my instructions! How do I look, I wonder?" + +She consulted the glass once more--gave one or two corrective touches to +her hair and her cap--and hastened into the boudoir. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +FOR a quarter of an hour the drawing-room remained empty. At the end of +that time the council in the boudoir broke up. Lady Lydiard led the way +back into the drawing-room, followed by Hardyman, Isabel being left to +look after the dog. Before the door closed behind him, Hardyman turned +round to reiterate his last medical directions--or, in plainer words, to +take a last look at Isabel. + +"Plenty of water, Miss Isabel, for the dog to lap, and a little bread or +biscuit, if he wants something to eat. Nothing more, if you please, till +I see him to-morrow." + +"Thank you, sir. I will take the greatest care--" + +At that point Lady Lydiard cut short the interchange of instructions +and civilities. "Shut the door, if you please, Mr. Hardyman. I feel the +draught. Many thanks! I am really at a loss to tell you how gratefully I +feel your kindness. But for you my poor little dog might be dead by this +time." + +Hardyman answered, in the quiet melancholy monotone which was habitual +with him, "Your Ladyship need feel no further anxiety about the dog. +Only be careful not to overfeed him. He will do very well under Miss +Isabel's care. By the bye, her family name is Miller--is it not? Is she +related to the Warwickshire Millers of Duxborough House?" + +Lady Lydiard looked at him with an expression of satirical surprise. +"Mr. Hardyman," she said, "this makes the fourth time you have +questioned me about Isabel. You seem to take a great interest in my +little companion. Don't make any apologies, pray! You pay Isabel a +compliment, and, as I am very fond of her, I am naturally gratified when +I find her admired. At the same time," she added, with one of her abrupt +transitions of language, "I had my eye on you, and I had my eye on her, +when you were talking in the next room; and I don't mean to let you make +a fool of the girl. She is not in your line of life, and the sooner you +know it the better. You make me laugh when you ask if she is related to +gentlefolks. She is the orphan daughter of a chemist in the country. Her +relations haven't a penny to bless themselves with, except an old aunt, +who lives in a village on two or three hundred a year. I heard of the +girl by accident. When she lost her father and mother, her aunt offered +to take her. Isabel said, 'No, thank you; I will not be a burden on +a relation who has only enough for herself. A girl can earn an honest +living if she tries; and I mean to try'--that's what she said. I admired +her independence," her Ladyship proceeded, ascending again to the higher +regions of thought and expression. "My niece's marriage, just at that +time, had left me alone in this great house. I proposed to Isabel to +come to me as companion and reader for a few weeks, and to decide for +herself whether she liked the life or not. We have never been separated +since that time. I could hardly be fonder of her if she were my own +daughter; and she returns my affection with all her heart. She has +excellent qualities--prudent, cheerful, sweet-tempered; with good sense +enough to understand what her place is in the world, as distinguished +from her place in my regard. I have taken care, for her own sake, never +to leave that part of the question in any doubt. It would be cruel +kindness to deceive her as to her future position when she marries. I +shall take good care that the man who pays his addresses to her is a man +in her rank of life. I know but too well, in the case of one of my own +relatives, what miseries unequal marriages bring with them. Excuse me +for troubling you at this length on domestic matters. I am very fond +of Isabel; and a girl's head is so easily turned. Now you know what her +position really is, you will also know what limits there must be to the +expression of your interest in her. I am sure we understand each other; +and I say no more." + +Hardyman listened to this long harangue with the immovable gravity which +was part of his character--except when Isabel had taken him by surprise. +When her Ladyship gave him the opportunity of speaking on his side, +he had very little to say, and that little did not suggest that he had +greatly profited by what he had heard. His mind had been full of Isabel +when Lady Lydiard began, and it remained just as full of her, in just +the same way, when Lady Lydiard had done. + +"Yes," he remarked quietly, "Miss Isabel is an uncommonly nice girl, as +you say. Very pretty, and such frank, unaffected manners. I don't deny +that I feel an interest in her. The young ladies one meets in society +are not much to my taste. Miss Isabel is my taste." + +Lady Lydiard's face assumed a look of blank dismay. "I am afraid I have +failed to convey my exact meaning to you," she said. + +Hardyman gravely declared that he understood her perfectly. "Perfectly!" +he repeated, with his impenetrable obstinacy. "Your Ladyship exactly +expresses my opinion of Miss Isabel. Prudent, and cheerful, and +sweet-tempered, as you say--all the qualities in a woman that I admire. +With good looks, too--of course, with good looks. She will be a perfect +treasure (as you remarked just now) to the man who marries her. I may +claim to know something about it. I have twice narrowly escaped being +married myself; and, though I can't exactly explain it, I'm all the +harder to please in consequence. Miss Isabel pleases me. I think I +have said that before? Pardon me for saying it again. I'll call again +to-morrow morning and look at the dog as early as eleven o'clock, if you +will allow me. Later in the day I must be off to France to attend a sale +of horses. Glad to have been of any use to your Ladyship, I am sure. +Good-morning." + +Lady Lydiard let him go, wisely resigning any further attempt to +establish an understanding between her visitor and herself. + +"He is either a person of very limited intelligence when he is away from +his stables," she thought, "or he deliberately declines to take a plain +hint when it is given to him. I can't drop his acquaintance, on Tommie's +account. The only other alternative is to keep Isabel out of his way. My +good little girl shall not drift into a false position while I am living +to look after her. When Mr. Hardyman calls to-morrow she shall be out +on an errand. When he calls the next time she shall be upstairs with a +headache. And if he tries it again she shall be away at my house in the +country. If he makes any remarks on her absence--well, he will find that +I can be just as dull of understanding as he is when the occasion calls +for it." + +Having arrived at this satisfactory solution of the difficulty, Lady +Lydiard became conscious of an irresistible impulse to summon Isabel to +her presence and caress her. In the nature of a warm-hearted woman, +this was only the inevitable reaction which followed the subsidence of +anxiety about the girl, after her own resolution had set that anxiety at +rest. She threw open the door and made one of her sudden appearances at +the boudoir. Even in the fervent outpouring of her affection, there was +still the inherent abruptness of manner which so strongly marked Lady +Lydiard's character in all the relations of life. + +"Did I give you a kiss, this morning?" she asked, when Isabel rose to +receive her. + +"Yes, my Lady," said the girl, with her charming smile. + +"Come, then, and give me a kiss in return. Do you love me? Very well, +then, treat me like your mother. Never mind 'my lady' this time. Give me +a good hug!" + +Something in those homely words, or something perhaps in the look that +accompanied them, touched sympathies in Isabel which seldom showed +themselves on the surface. Her smiling lips trembled, the bright tears +rose in her eyes. "You are too good to me," she murmured, with her head +on Lady Lydiard's bosom. "How can I ever love you enough in return?" + +Lady Lydiard patted the pretty head that rested on her with such filial +tenderness. "There! there!" she said, "Go back and play with Tommie, my +dear. We may be as fond of each other as we like; but we mustn't cry. +God bless you! Go away--go away!" + +She turned aside quickly; her own eyes were moistening, and it was part +of her character to be reluctant to let Isabel see it. "Why have I made +a fool of myself?" she wondered, as she approached the drawing-room +door. "It doesn't matter. I am all the better for it. Odd, that Mr. +Hardyman should have made me feel fonder of Isabel than ever!" + +With those reflections she re-entered the drawing-room--and suddenly +checked herself with a start. "Good Heavens!" she exclaimed irritably, +"how you frightened me! Why was I not told you were here?" + +Having left the drawing-room in a state of solitude, Lady Lydiard on her +return found herself suddenly confronted with a gentleman, mysteriously +planted on the hearth-rug in her absence. The new visitor may be rightly +described as a gray man. He had gray hair, eyebrows, and whiskers; he +wore a gray coat, waistcoat, and trousers, and gray gloves. For +the rest, his appearance was eminently suggestive of wealth and +respectability and, in this case, appearances were really to be trusted. +The gray man was no other than Lady Lydiard's legal adviser, Mr. Troy. + +"I regret, my Lady, that I should have been so unfortunate as to startle +you," he said, with a certain underlying embarrassment in his manner. +"I had the honor of sending word by Mr. Moody that I would call at this +hour, on some matters of business connected with your Ladyship's house +property. I presumed that you expected to find me here, waiting your +pleasure--" + +Thus far Lady Lydiard had listened to her legal adviser, fixing her eyes +on his face in her usually frank, straightforward way. She now stopped +him in the middle of a sentence, with a change of expression in her own +face which was undisguisedly a change to alarm. + +"Don't apologize, Mr. Troy," she said. "I am to blame for forgetting +your appointment and for not keeping my nerves under proper control." +She paused for a moment and took a seat before she said her next words. +"May I ask," she resumed, "if there is something unpleasant in the +business that brings you here?" + +"Nothing whatever, my Lady; mere formalities, which can wait till +to-morrow or next day, if you wish it." + +Lady Lydiard's fingers drummed impatiently on the table. "You have known +me long enough, Mr. Troy, to know that I cannot endure suspense. You +_have_ something unpleasant to tell me." + +The lawyer respectfully remonstrated. "Really, Lady Lydiard!--" he +began. + +"It won't do, Mr. Troy! I know how you look at me on ordinary occasions, +and I see how you look at me now. You are a very clever lawyer; but, +happily for the interests that I commit to your charge, you are also a +thoroughly honest man. After twenty years' experience of you, you can't +deceive _me_. You bring me bad news. Speak at once, sir, and speak +plainly." + +Mr. Troy yielded--inch by inch, as it were. "I bring news which, I fear, +may annoy your Ladyship." He paused, and advanced another inch. "It is +news which I only became acquainted with myself on entering this house." + +He waited again, and made another advance. "I happened to meet your +Ladyship's steward, Mr. Moody, in the hall--" + +"Where is he?" Lady Lydiard interposed angrily. "I can make _him_ speak +out, and I will. Send him here instantly." + +The lawyer made a last effort to hold off the coming disclosure a little +longer. "Mr. Moody will be here directly," he said. "Mr. Moody requested +me to prepare your Ladyship--" + +"Will you ring the bell, Mr. Troy, or must I?" + +Moody had evidently been waiting outside while the lawyer spoke for him. +He saved Mr. Troy the trouble of ringing the bell by presenting himself +in the drawing-room. Lady Lydiard's eyes searched his face as he +approached. Her bright complexion faded suddenly. Not a word more passed +her lips. She looked, and waited. + +In silence on his part, Moody laid an open sheet of paper on the table. +The paper quivered in his trembling hand. + +Lady Lydiard recovered herself first. "Is that for me?" she asked. + +"Yes, my Lady." + +She took up the paper without an instant's hesitation. Both the men +watched her anxiously as she read it. + +The handwriting was strange to her. The words were these:-- + +"I hereby certify that the bearer of these lines, Robert Moody by name, +has presented to me the letter with which he was charged, addressed to +myself, with the seal intact. I regret to add that there is, to say the +least of it, some mistake. The inclosure referred to by the anonymous +writer of the letter, who signs 'a friend in need,' has not reached me. +No five-hundred pound bank-note was in the letter when I opened it. +My wife was present when I broke the seal, and can certify to this +statement if necessary. Not knowing who my charitable correspondent is +(Mr. Moody being forbidden to give me any information), I can only take +this means of stating the case exactly as it stands, and hold myself at +the disposal of the writer of the letter. My private address is at the +head of the page.--Samuel Bradstock, Rector, St. Anne's, Deansbury, +London." + +Lady Lydiard dropped the paper on the table. For the moment, plainly as +the Rector's statement was expressed, she appeared to be incapable of +understanding it. "What, in God's name, does this mean?" she asked. + +The lawyer and the steward looked at each other. Which of the two was +entitled to speak first? Lady Lydiard gave them no time to decide. +"Moody," she said sternly, "you took charge of the letter--I look to you +for an explanation." + +Moody's dark eyes flashed. He answered Lady Lydiard without caring to +conceal that he resented the tone in which she had spoken to him. + +"I undertook to deliver the letter at its address," he said. "I found +it, sealed, on the table. Your Ladyship has the clergyman's written +testimony that I handed it to him with the seal unbroken. I have done my +duty; and I have no explanation to offer." + +Before Lady Lydiard could speak again, Mr. Troy discreetly interfered. +He saw plainly that his experience was required to lead the +investigation in the right direction. + +"Pardon me, my Lady," he said, with that happy mixture of the positive +and the polite in his manner, of which lawyers alone possess the secret. +"There is only one way of arriving at the truth in painful matters of +this sort. We must begin at the beginning. May I venture to ask your +Ladyship a question?" + +Lady Lydiard felt the composing influence of Mr. Troy. "I am at your +disposal, sir," she said, quietly. + +"Are you absolutely certain that you inclosed the bank-note in the +letter?" the lawyer asked. + +"I certainly believe I inclosed it," Lady Lydiard answered. "But I was so +alarmed at the time by the sudden illness of my dog, that I do not feel +justified in speaking positively." + +"Was anybody in the room with your Ladyship when you put the inclosure +in the letter--as you believe?" + +"_I_ was in the room," said Moody. "I can swear that I saw her Ladyship +put the bank-note in the letter, and the letter in the envelope." + +"And seal the envelope?" asked Mr. Troy. + +"No, sir. Her Ladyship was called away into the next room to the dog, +before she could seal the envelope." + +Mr. Troy addressed himself once more to Lady Lydiard. "Did your Ladyship +take the letter into the next room with you?" + +"I was too much alarmed to think of it, Mr. Troy. I left it here, on the +table." + +"With the envelope open?" + +"Yes." + +"How long were you absent in the other room?" + +"Half an hour or more." + +"Ha!" said Mr. Troy to himself. "This complicates it a little." He +reflected for a while, and then turned again to Moody. "Did any of the +servants know of this bank-note being in her Ladyship's possession?" + +"Not one of them," Moody answered. + +"Do you suspect any of the servants?" + +"Certainly not, sir." + +"Are there any workmen employed in the house?" + +"No, sir." + +"Do you know of any persons who had access to the room while Lady +Lydiard was absent from it?" + +"Two visitors called, sir." + +"Who were they?" + +"Her Ladyship's nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir, and the Honorable Alfred +Hardyman." + +Mr. Troy shook his head irritably. "I am not speaking of gentlemen of +high position and repute," he said. "It's absurd even to mention Mr. +Sweetsir and Mr. Hardyman. My question related to strangers who might +have obtained access to the drawing-room--people calling, with her +Ladyship's sanction, for subscriptions, for instance; or people calling +with articles of dress or ornament to be submitted to her Ladyship's +inspection." + +"No such persons came to the house with my knowledge," Moody answered. + +Mr. Troy suspended the investigation, and took a turn thoughtfully in +the room. The theory on which his inquiries had proceeded thus far had +failed to produce any results. His experience warned him to waste +no more time on it, and to return to the starting-point of the +investigation--in other words, to the letter. Shifting his point of +view, he turned again to Lady Lydiard, and tried his questions in a new +direction. + +"Mr. Moody mentioned just now," he said, "that your Ladyship was called +into the next room before you could seal your letter. On your return to +this room, did you seal the letter?" + +"I was busy with the dog," Lady Lydiard answered. "Isabel Miller was of +no use in the boudoir, and I told her to seal it for me." + +Mr. Troy started. The new direction in which he was pushing his +inquiries began to look like the right direction already. "Miss Isabel +Miller," he proceeded, "has been a resident under your Ladyship's roof +for some little time, I believe?" + +"For nearly two years, Mr. Troy." + +"As your Ladyship's companion and reader?" + +"As my adopted daughter," her Ladyship answered, with marked emphasis. + +Wise Mr. Troy rightly interpreted the emphasis as a warning to him to +suspend the examination of her Ladyship, and to address to Mr. Moody the +far more serious questions which were now to come. + +"Did anyone give you the letter before you left the house with it?" he +said to the steward. "Or did you take it yourself?" + +"I took it myself, from the table here." + +"Was it sealed?" + +"Yes." + +"Was anybody present when you took the letter from the table?" + +"Miss Isabel was present." + +"Did you find her alone in the room?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Lady Lydiard opened her lips to speak, and checked herself. Mr. Troy, +having cleared the ground before him, put the fatal question. + +"Mr. Moody," he said, "when Miss Isabel was instructed to seal the +letter, did she know that a bank-note was inclosed in it?" + +Instead of replying, Robert drew back from the lawyer with a look of +horror. Lady Lydiard started to her feet--and checked herself again, on +the point of speaking. + +"Answer him, Moody," she said, putting a strong constraint on herself. + +Robert answered very unwillingly. "I took the liberty of reminding +her ladyship that she had left her letter unsealed," he said. "And +I mentioned as my excuse for speaking,"--he stopped, and corrected +himself--"_I believe_ I mentioned that a valuable inclosure was in the +letter." + +"You believe?" Mr. Troy repeated. "Can't you speak more positively than +that?" + +"_I_ can speak positively," said Lady Lydiard, with her eyes on the +lawyer. "Moody did mention the inclosure in the letter--in Isabel +Miller's hearing as well as in mine." She paused, steadily controlling +herself. "And what of that, Mr. Troy?" she added, very quietly and +firmly. + +Mr. Troy answered quietly and firmly, on his side. "I am surprised that +your Ladyship should ask the question," he said. + +"I persist in repeating the question," Lady Lydiard rejoined. "I say +that Isabel Miller knew of the inclosure in my letter--and I ask, What +of that?" + +"And I answer," retorted the impenetrable lawyer, "that the suspicion of +theft rests on your Ladyship's adopted daughter, and on nobody else." + +"It's false!" cried Robert, with a burst of honest indignation. "I wish +to God I had never said a word to you about the loss of the bank-note! +Oh, my Lady! my Lady! don't let him distress you! What does _he_ know +about it?" + +"Hush!" said Lady Lydiard. "Control yourself, and hear what he has to +say." She rested her hand on Moody's shoulder, partly to encourage +him, partly to support herself; and, fixing her eyes again on Mr. Troy, +repeated his last words, "'Suspicion rests on my adopted daughter, and +on nobody else.' Why on nobody else?" + +"Is your Ladyship prepared to suspect the Rector of St. Anne's of +embezzlement, or your own relatives and equals of theft?" Mr. Troy +asked. "Does a shadow of doubt rest on the servants? Not if Mr. Moody's +evidence is to be believed. Who, to our own certain knowledge, had +access to the letter while it was unsealed? Who was alone in the room +with it? And who knew of the inclosure in it? I leave the answer to your +Ladyship." + +"Isabel Miller is as incapable of an act of theft as I am. There is my +answer, Mr. Troy." + +The lawyer bowed resignedly, and advanced to the door. + +"Am I to take your Ladyship's generous assertion as finally disposing of +the question of the lost bank-note?" he inquired. + +Lady Lydiard met the challenge without shrinking from it. + +"No!" she said. "The loss of the bank-note is known out of my house. +Other persons may suspect this innocent girl as you suspect her. It is +due to Isabel's reputation--her unstained reputation, Mr. Troy!--that +she should know what has happened, and should have an opportunity of +defending herself. She is in the next room, Moody. Bring her here." + +Robert's courage failed him: he trembled at the bare idea of exposing +Isabel to the terrible ordeal that awaited her. "Oh, my Lady!" he +pleaded, "think again before you tell the poor girl that she is +suspected of theft. Keep it a secret from her--the shame of it will +break her heart!" + +"Keep it a secret," said Lady Lydiard, "when the Rector and the Rector's +wife both know of it! Do you think they will let the matter rest where +it is, even if I could consent to hush it up? I must write to them; +and I can't write anonymously after what has happened. Put yourself in +Isabel's place, and tell me if you would thank the person who knew you +to be innocently exposed to a disgraceful suspicion, and who concealed +it from you? Go, Moody! The longer you delay, the harder it will be." + +With his head sunk on his breast, with anguish written in every line +of his face, Moody obeyed. Passing slowly down the short passage which +connected the two rooms, and still shrinking from the duty that had +been imposed on him, he paused, looking through the curtains which hung +over the entrance to the boudoir. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE sight that met Moody's view wrung him to the heart. + +Isabel and the dog were at play together. Among the varied +accomplishments possessed by Tommie, the capacity to take his part at a +game of hide-and-seek was one. His playfellow for the time being put a +shawl or a handkerchief over his head, so as to prevent him from seeing, +and then hid among the furniture a pocketbook, or a cigar-case, or a +purse, or anything else that happened to be at hand, leaving the dog to +find it, with his keen sense of smell to guide him. Doubly relieved +by the fit and the bleeding, Tommie's spirits had revived; and he +and Isabel had just begun their game when Moody looked into the room, +charged with his terrible errand. "You're burning, Tommie, you're +burning!" cried the girl, laughing and clapping her hands. The next +moment she happened to look round and saw Moody through the parted +curtains. His face warned her instantly that something serious had +happened. She advanced a few steps, her eyes resting on him in silent +alarm. He was himself too painfully agitated to speak. Not a word was +exchanged between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy in the next room. In the +complete stillness that prevailed, the dog was heard sniffing and +fidgeting about the furniture. Robert took Isabel by the hand and led +her into the drawing-room. "For God's sake, spare her, my Lady!" he +whispered. The lawyer heard him. "No," said Mr. Troy. "Be merciful, and +tell her the truth!" + +He spoke to a woman who stood in no need of his advice. The inherent +nobility in Lady Lydiard's nature was aroused: her great heart offered +itself patiently to any sorrow, to any sacrifice. + +Putting her arm round Isabel--half caressing her, half supporting +her--Lady Lydiard accepted the whole responsibility and told the whole +truth. + +Reeling under the first shock, the poor girl recovered herself with +admirable courage. She raised her head, and eyed the lawyer without +uttering a word. In its artless consciousness of innocence the look was +nothing less than sublime. Addressing herself to Mr. Troy, Lady Lydiard +pointed to Isabel. "Do you see guilt there?" she asked. + +Mr. Troy made no answer. In the melancholy experience of humanity to +which his profession condemned him, he had seen conscious guilt assume +the face of innocence, and helpless innocence admit the disguise of +guilt: the keenest observation, in either case, failing completely to +detect the truth. Lady Lydiard misinterpreted his silence as expressing +the sullen self-assertion of a heartless man. She turned from him, in +contempt, and held out her hand to Isabel. + +"Mr. Troy is not satisfied yet," she said bitterly. "My love, take my +hand, and look me in the face as your equal; I know no difference of +rank at such a time as this. Before God, who hears you, are you innocent +of the theft of the bank-note?" + +"Before God, who hears me," Isabel answered, "I am innocent." + +Lady Lydiard looked once more at the lawyer, and waited to hear if he +believed _that_. + +Mr. Troy took refuge in dumb diplomacy--he made a low bow. It might have +meant that he believed Isabel, or it might have meant that he modestly +withdrew his own opinion into the background. Lady Lydiard did not +condescend to inquire what it meant. + +"The sooner we bring this painful scene to an end the better," she said. +"I shall be glad to avail myself of your professional assistance, Mr. +Troy, within certain limits. Outside of my house, I beg that you will +spare no trouble in tracing the lost money to the person who has really +stolen it. Inside of my house, I must positively request that the +disappearance of the note may never be alluded to, in any way whatever, +until your inquiries have been successful in discovering the thief. In +the meanwhile, Mrs. Tollmidge and her family must not be sufferers by +my loss: I shall pay the money again." She paused, and pressed Isabel's +hand with affectionate fervor. "My child," she said, "one last word to +you, and I have done. You remain here, with my trust in you, and my love +for you, absolutely unshaken. When you think of what has been said here +to-day, never forget that." + +Isabel bent her head, and kissed the kind hand that still held hers. The +high spirit that was in her, inspired by Lady Lydiard's example, rose +equal to the dreadful situation in which she was placed. + +"No, my Lady," she said calmly and sadly; "it cannot be. What this +gentleman has said of me is not to be denied--the appearances are +against me. The letter was open, and I was alone in the room with it, +and Mr. Moody told me that a valuable inclosure was inside it. Dear and +kind mistress! I am not fit to be a member of your household, I am not +worthy to live with the honest people who serve you, while my innocence +is in doubt. It is enough for me now that _you_ don't doubt it. I can +wait patiently, after that, for the day that gives me back my good name. +Oh, my Lady, don't cry about it! Pray, pray don't cry!" + +Lady Lydiard's self-control failed her for the first time. Isabel's +courage had made Isabel dearer to her than ever. She sank into a chair, +and covered her face with her handkerchief. Mr. Troy turned aside +abruptly, and examined a Japanese vase, without any idea in his mind +of what he was looking at. Lady Lydiard had gravely misjudged him in +believing him to be a heartless man. + +Isabel followed the lawyer, and touched him gently on the arm to rouse +his attention. + +"I have one relation living, sir--an aunt--who will receive me if I go +to her," she said simply. "Is there any harm in my going? Lady Lydiard +will give you the address when you want me. Spare her Ladyship, sir, all +the pain and trouble that you can." + +At last the heart that was in Mr. Troy asserted itself. "You are a +fine creature!" he said, with a burst of enthusiasm. "I agree with Lady +Lydiard--I believe you are innocent, too; and I will leave no effort +untried to find the proof of it." He turned aside again, and had another +look at the Japanese vase. + +As the lawyer withdrew himself from observation, Moody approached +Isabel. + +Thus far he had stood apart, watching her and listening to her in +silence. Not a look that had crossed her face, not a word that +had fallen from her, had escaped him. Unconsciously on her side, +unconsciously on his side, she now wrought on his nature with a +purifying and ennobling influence which animated it with a new life. +All that had been selfish and violent in his passion for her left him to +return no more. The immeasurable devotion which he laid at her feet, in +the days that were yet to come--the unyielding courage which cheerfully +accepted the sacrifice of himself when events demanded it at a later +period of his life--struck root in him now. Without attempting to +conceal the tears that were falling fast over his cheeks--striving +vainly to express those new thoughts in him that were beyond the reach +of words--he stood before her the truest friend and servant that ever +woman had. + +"Oh, my dear! my heart is heavy for you. Take me to serve you and help +you. Her Ladyship's kindness will permit it, I am sure." + +He could say no more. In those simple words the cry of his heart reached +her. "Forgive me, Robert," she answered, gratefully, "if I said anything +to pain you when we spoke together a little while since. I didn't mean +it." She gave him her hand, and looked timidly over her shoulder at Lady +Lydiard. "Let me go!" she said, in low, broken tones, "Let me go!" + +Mr. Troy heard her, and stepped forward to interfere before Lady Lydiard +could speak. The man had recovered his self-control; the lawyer took his +place again on the scene. + +"You must not leave us, my dear," he said to Isabel, "until I have put a +question to Mr. Moody in which you are interested. Do you happen to have +the number of the lost bank-note?" he asked, turning to the steward. + +Moody produced his slip of paper with the number on it. Mr. Troy made +two copies of it before he returned the paper. One copy he put in his +pocket, the other he handed to Isabel. + +"Keep it carefully," he said. "Neither you nor I know how soon it may be +of use to you." + +Receiving the copy from him, she felt mechanically in her apron for her +pocketbook. She had used it, in playing with the dog, as an object to +hide from him; but she had suffered, and was still suffering, too keenly +to be capable of the effort of remembrance. Moody, eager to help her +even in the most trifling thing, guessed what had happened. "You were +playing with Tommie," he said; "is it in the next room?" + +The dog heard his name pronounced through the open door. The next moment +he trotted into the drawing-room with Isabel's pocketbook in his mouth. +He was a strong, well-grown Scotch terrier of the largest size, with +bright, intelligent eyes, and a coat of thick curling white hair, +diversified by two light brown patches on his back. As he reached +the middle of the room, and looked from one to another of the persons +present, the fine sympathy of his race told him that there was trouble +among his human friends. His tail dropped; he whined softly as he +approached Isabel, and laid her pocketbook at her feet. + +She knelt as she picked up the pocketbook, and raised her playfellow of +happier days to take her leave of him. As the dog put his paws on her +shoulders, returning her caress, her first tears fell. "Foolish of +me," she said, faintly, "to cry over a dog. I can't help it. Good-by, +Tommie!" + +Putting him away from her gently, she walked towards the door. The dog +instantly followed. She put him away from her, for the second time, and +left him. He was not to be denied; he followed her again, and took the +skirt of her dress in his teeth, as if to hold her back. Robert forced +the dog, growling and resisting with all his might, to let go of +the dress. "Don't be rough with him," said Isabel. "Put him on her +ladyship's lap; he will be quieter there." Robert obeyed. He whispered +to Lady Lydiard as she received the dog; she seemed to be still +incapable of speaking--she bowed her head in silent assent. Robert +hurried back to Isabel before she had passed the door. "Not alone!" he +said entreatingly. "Her Ladyship permits it, Isabel. Let me see you safe +to your aunt's house." + +Isabel looked at him, felt for him, and yielded. + +"Yes," she answered softly; "to make amends for what I said to you when +I was thoughtless and happy!" She waited a little to compose herself +before she spoke her farewell words to Lady Lydiard. "Good-by, my Lady. +Your kindness has not been thrown away on an ungrateful girl. I love +you, and thank you, with all my heart." + +Lady Lydiard rose, placing the dog on the chair as she left it. She +seemed to have grown older by years, instead of by minutes, in the short +interval that had passed since she had hidden her face from view. "I +can't bear it!" she cried, in husky, broken tones. "Isabel! Isabel! I +forbid you to leave me!" + +But one person could venture to resist her. That person was Mr. +Troy--and Mr. Troy knew it. + +"Control yourself," he said to her in a whisper. "The girl is doing +what is best and most becoming in her position--and is doing it with +a patience and courage wonderful to see. She places herself under the +protection of her nearest relative, until her character is vindicated +and her position in your house is once more beyond a doubt. Is this a +time to throw obstacles in her way? Be worthy of yourself, Lady Lydiard +and think of the day when she will return to you without the breath of a +suspicion to rest on her!" + +There was no disputing with him--he was too plainly in the right. Lady +Lydiard submitted; she concealed the torture that her own resolution +inflicted on her with an endurance which was, indeed, worthy of herself. +Taking Isabel in her arms she kissed her in a passion of sorrow and +love. "My poor dear! My own sweet girl! don't suppose that this is a +parting kiss! I shall see you again--often and often I shall see you +again at your aunt's!" At a sign from Mr. Troy, Robert took Isabel's arm +in his and led her away. Tommie, watching her from his chair, lifted +his little white muzzle as his playfellow looked back on passing the +doorway. The long, melancholy, farewell howl of the dog was the last +sound Isabel Miller heard as she left the house. + + + + + +PART THE SECOND. + +THE DISCOVERY. + +CHAPTER VIII. + +ON the day after Isabel's departure, diligent Mr. Troy set forth for the +Head Office in Whitehall to consult the police on the question of the +missing money. He had previously sent information of the robbery to +the Bank of England, and had also advertised the loss in the daily +newspapers. + +The air was so pleasant, and the sun was so bright, that he determined +on proceeding to his destination on foot. He was hardly out of sight of +his own offices when he was overtaken by a friend, who was also +walking in the direction of Whitehall. This gentleman was a person +of considerable worldly wisdom and experience; he had been officially +associated with cases of striking and notorious crime, in which +Government had lent its assistance to discover and punish the criminals. +The opinion of a person in this position might be of the greatest value +to Mr. Troy, whose practice as a solicitor had thus far never brought +him into collision with thieves and mysteries. He accordingly decided, +in Isabel's interests, on confiding to his friend the nature of his +errand to the police. Concealing the name, but concealing nothing else, +he described what had happened on the previous day at Lady Lydiard's +house, and then put the question plainly to his companion. + +"What would you do in my place?" + +"In your place," his friend answered quietly, "I should not waste time +and money in consulting the police." + +"Not consult the police!" exclaimed Mr. Troy in amazement. "Surely, I +have not made myself understood? I am going to the Head Office; and +I have got a letter of introduction to the chief inspector in the +detective department. I am afraid I omitted to mention that?" + +"It doesn't make any difference," proceeded the other, as coolly as +ever. "You have asked for my advice, and I give you my advice. Tear +up your letter of introduction, and don't stir a step further in the +direction of Whitehall." + +Mr. Troy began to understand. "You don't believe in the detective +police?" he said. + +"Who _can_ believe in them, who reads his newspaper and remembers +what he reads?" his friend rejoined. "Fortunately for the detective +department, the public in general forgets what it reads. Go to your +club, and look at the criminal history of our own time, recorded in the +newspapers. Every crime is more or less a mystery. You will see that +the mysteries which the police discover are, almost without exception, +mysteries made penetrable by the commonest capacity, through the +extraordinary stupidity exhibited in the means taken to hide the +crime. On the other hand, let the guilty man or woman be a resolute and +intelligent person, capable of setting his (or her) wits fairly against +the wits of the police--in other words, let the mystery really _be_ +a mystery--and cite me a case if you can (a really difficult and +perplexing case) in which the criminal has not escaped. Mind! I don't +charge the police with neglecting their work. No doubt they do their +best, and take the greatest pains in following the routine to which they +have been trained. It is their misfortune, not their fault, that there +is no man of superior intelligence among them--I mean no man who is +capable, in great emergencies, of placing himself above conventional +methods, and following a new way of his own. There have been such men in +the police--men naturally endowed with that faculty of mental analysis +which can decompose a mystery, resolve it into its component parts, +and find the clue at the bottom, no matter how remote from ordinary +observation it may be. But those men have died, or have retired. One +of them would have been invaluable to you in the case you have just +mentioned to me. As things are, unless you are wrong in believing in the +young lady's innocence, the person who has stolen that bank-note will +be no easy person to find. In my opinion, there is only one man now in +London who is likely to be of the slightest assistance to you--and he is +not in the police." + +"Who is he?" asked Mr. Troy. + +"An old rogue, who was once in your branch of the legal profession," +the friend answered. "You may, perhaps, remember the name: they call him +'Old Sharon.'" + +"What! The scoundrel who was struck off the Roll of Attorneys, years +since? Is he still alive?" + +"Alive and prospering. He lives in a court or lane running out of Long +Acre, and he offers advice to persons interested in recovering missing +objects of any sort. Whether you have lost your wife, or lost your +cigar-case, Old Sharon is equally useful to you. He has an inbred +capacity for reading the riddle the right way in cases of mystery, great +or small. In short, he possesses exactly that analytical faculty to +which I alluded just now. I have his address at my office, if you think +it worth while to try him." + +"Who can trust such a man?" Mr. Troy objected. "He would be sure to +deceive me." + +"You are entirely mistaken. Since he was struck off the Rolls Old Sharon +has discovered that the straight way is, on the whole, the best way, +even in a man's own interests. His consultation fee is a guinea; and he +gives a signed estimate beforehand for any supplementary expenses +that may follow. I can tell you (this is, of course, strictly between +ourselves) that the authorities at my office took his advice in a +Government case that puzzled the police. We approached him, of course, +through persons who were to be trusted to represent us, without +betraying the source from which their instructions were derived; and we +found the old rascal's advice well worth paying for. It is quite likely +that he may not succeed so well in your case. Try the police, by all +means; and, if they fail, why, there is Sharon as a last resort." + +This arrangement commended itself to Mr. Troy's professional caution. He +went on to Whitehall, and he tried the detective police. + +They at once adopted the obvious conclusion to persons of ordinary +capacity--the conclusion that Isabel was the thief. + +Acting on this conviction, the authorities sent an experienced woman +from the office to Lady Lydiard's house, to examine the poor girl's +clothes and ornaments before they were packed up and sent after her to +her aunt's. The search led to nothing. The only objects of any value +that were discovered had been presents from Lady Lydiard. No jewelers' +or milliners' bills were among the papers found in her desk. Not a sign +of secret extravagance in dress was to be seen anywhere. Defeated so +far, the police proposed next to have Isabel privately watched. There +might be a prodigal lover somewhere in the background, with ruin staring +him in the face unless he could raise five hundred pounds. Lady Lydiard +(who had only consented to the search under stress of persuasive +argument from Mr. Troy) resented this ingenious idea as an insult. She +declared that if Isabel was watched the girl should know of it instantly +from her own lips. The police listened with perfect resignation and +decorum, and politely shifted their ground. A certain suspicion (they +remarked) always rested in cases of this sort on the servants. Would +her Ladyship object to private inquiries into the characters and +proceedings of the servants? Her Ladyship instantly objected, in the +most positive terms. Thereupon the "Inspector" asked for a minute's +private conversation with Mr. Troy. "The thief is certainly a member +of Lady Lydiard's household," this functionary remarked, in his +politely-positive way. "If her Ladyship persists in refusing to let us +make the necessary inquiries, our hands are tied, and the case comes +to an end through no fault of ours. If her Ladyship changes her mind, +perhaps you will drop me a line, sir, to that effect. Good-morning." + +So the experiment of consulting the police came to an untimely end. +The one result obtained was the expression of purblind opinion by the +authorities of the detective department which pointed to Isabel, or to +one of the servants, as the undiscovered thief. Thinking the matter over +in the retirement of his own office--and not forgetting his promise to +Isabel to leave no means untried of establishing her innocence--Mr. Troy +could see but one alternative left to him. He took up his pen, and wrote +to his friend at the Government office. There was nothing for it now but +to run the risk, and try Old Sharon. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE next day, Mr. Troy (taking Robert Moody with him as a valuable +witness) rang the bell at the mean and dirty lodging-house in which Old +Sharon received the clients who stood in need of his advice. + +They were led up stairs to a back room on the second floor of the house. +Entering the room, they discovered through a thick cloud of tobacco +smoke, a small, fat, bald-headed, dirty, old man, in an arm-chair, robed +in a tattered flannel dressing-gown, with a short pipe in his mouth, a +pug-dog on his lap, and a French novel in his hands. + +"Is it business?" asked Old Sharon, speaking in a hoarse, asthmatical +voice, and fixing a pair of bright, shameless, black eyes attentively on +the two visitors. + +"It _is_ business," Mr. Troy answered, looking at the old rogue who had +disgraced an honorable profession, as he might have looked at a reptile +which had just risen rampant at his feet. "What is your fee for a +consultation?" + +"You give me a guinea, and I'll give you half an hour." With this reply +Old Sharon held out his unwashed hand across the rickety ink-splashed +table at which he was sitting. + +Mr. Troy would not have touched him with the tips of his own fingers for +a thousand pounds. He laid the guinea on the table. + +Old Sharon burst into a fierce laugh--a laugh strangely accompanied by a +frowning contraction of his eyebrows, and a frightful exhibition of the +whole inside of his mouth. "I'm not clean enough for you--eh?" he said, +with an appearance of being very much amused. "There's a dirty old man +described in this book that is a little like me." He held up his French +novel. "Have you read it? A capital story--well put together. Ah, you +haven't read it? You have got a pleasure to come. I say, do you mind +tobacco-smoke? I think faster while I smoke--that's all." + +Mr. Troy's respectable hand waved a silent permission to smoke, given +under dignified protest. + +"All right," said Old Sharon. "Now, get on." + +He laid himself back in his chair, and puffed out his smoke, with eyes +lazily half closed, like the eyes of the pug-dog on his lap. At that +moment, indeed there was a curious resemblance between the two. They +both seemed to be preparing themselves, in the same idle way, for the +same comfortable nap. + +Mr. Troy stated the circumstances under which the five hundred pound +note had disappeared, in clear and consecutive narrative. When he had +done, Old Sharon suddenly opened his eyes. The pug-dog suddenly opened +his eyes. Old Sharon looked hard at Mr. Troy. The pug looked hard at Mr. +Troy. Old Sharon spoke. The pug growled. + +"I know who you are--you're a lawyer. Don't be alarmed! I never saw +you before; and I don't know your name. What I do know is a lawyer's +statement of facts when I hear it. Who's this?" Old Sharon looked +inquisitively at Moody as he put the question. + +Mr. Troy introduced Moody as a competent witness, thoroughly acquainted +with the circumstances, and ready and willing to answer any questions +relating to them. Old Sharon waited a little, smoking hard and thinking +hard. "Now, then!" he burst out in his fiercely sudden way. "I'm going +to get to the root of the matter." + +He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, and began his +examination of Moody. Heartily as Mr. Troy despised and disliked the old +rogue, he listened with astonishment and admiration--literally extorted +from him by the marvelous ability with which the questions were adapted +to the end in view. In a quarter of an hour Old Sharon had extracted +from the witness everything, literally everything down to the smallest +detail, that Moody could tell him. Having now, in his own phrase, +"got to the root of the matter," he relighted his pipe with a grunt of +satisfaction, and laid himself back in his old armchair. + +"Well?" said Mr. Troy. "Have you formed your opinion?" + +"Yes; I've formed my opinion." + +"What is it?" + +Instead of replying, Old Sharon winked confidentially at Mr. Troy, and +put a question on his side. + +"I say! is a ten-pound note much of an object to you?" + +"It depends on what the money is wanted for," answered Mr. Troy. + +"Look here," said Old Sharon; "I give you an opinion for your guinea; +but, mind this, it's an opinion founded on hearsay--and you know as a +lawyer what that is worth. Venture your ten pounds--in plain English, +pay me for my time and trouble in a baffling and difficult case--and +I'll give you an opinion founded on my own experience." + +"Explain yourself a little more clearly," said Mr. Troy. "What do you +guarantee to tell us if we venture the ten pounds?" + +"I guarantee to name the person, or the persons, on whom the suspicion +really rests. And if you employ me after that, I guarantee (before you +pay me a halfpenny more) to prove that I am right by laying my hand on +the thief." + +"Let us have the guinea opinion first," said Mr. Troy. + +Old Sharon made another frightful exhibition of the whole inside of his +mouth; his laugh was louder and fiercer than ever. "I like you!" he said +to Mr. Troy, "you are so devilish fond of your money. Lord! how rich you +must be! Now listen. Here's the guinea opinion: Suspect, in this case, +the very last person on whom suspicion could possibly fall." + +Moody, listening attentively, started, and changed color at those last +words. Mr. Troy looked thoroughly disappointed and made no attempt to +conceal it. + +"Is that all?" he asked. + +"All?" retorted the cynical vagabond. "You're a pretty lawyer! What more +can I say, when I don't know for certain whether the witness who has +given me my information has misled me or not? Have I spoken to the girl +and formed my own opinion? No! Have I been introduced among the servants +(as errand-boy, or to clean the boots and shoes, or what not), and +have I formed my own judgement of _them?_ No! I take your opinions for +granted, and I tell you how I should set to work myself if they +were _my_ opinions too--and that's a guinea's-worth, a devilish good +guinea's-worth to a rich man like you!" + +Old Sharon's logic produced a certain effect on Mr. Troy, in spite of +himself. It was smartly put from his point of view--there was no denying +that. + +"Even if I consented to your proposal," he said, "I should object to +your annoying the young lady with impertinent questions, or to your +being introduced as a spy into a respectable house." + +Old Sharon doubled his dirty fists and drummed with them on the rickety +table in a comical frenzy of impatience while Mr. Troy was speaking. + +"What the devil do you know about my way of doing my business?" he burst +out when the lawyer had done. "One of us two is talking like a born +idiot--and (mind this) it isn't me. Look here! Your young lady goes out +for a walk, and she meets with a dirty, shabby old beggar--I look like +a shabby old beggar already, don't I? Very good. This dirty old wretch +whines and whimpers and tells a long story, and gets sixpence out of the +girl--and knows her by that time, inside and out, as well as if he had +made her--and, mark! hasn't asked her a single question, and, instead +of annoying her, has made her happy in the performance of a charitable +action. Stop a bit! I haven't done with you yet. Who blacks your boots +and shoes? Look here!" He pushed his pug-dog off his lap, dived under +the table, appeared again with an old boot and a bottle of blackening, +and set to work with tigerish activity. "I'm going out for a walk, you +know, and I may as well make myself smart." With that announcement, he +began to sing over his work--a song of sentiment, popular in England in +the early part of the present century--"She's all my fancy painted her; +she's lovely, she's divine; but her heart it is another's; and it never +can be mine! Too-ral-loo-ral-loo'. I like a love-song. Brush away! brush +away! till I see my own pretty face in the blacking. Hey! Here's a nice, +harmless, jolly old man! sings and jokes over his work, and makes the +kitchen quite cheerful. What's that you say? He's a stranger, and don't +talk to him too freely. You ought to be ashamed of yourself to speak in +that way of a poor old fellow with one foot in the grave. Mrs. Cook will +give him a nice bit of dinner in the scullery; and John Footman will +look out an old coat for him. And when he's heard everything he wants to +hear, and doesn't come back again the next day to his work--what do they +think of it in the servants' hall? Do they say, 'We've had a spy among +us!' Yah! you know better than that, by this time. The cheerful old +man has been run over in the street, or is down with the fever, or has +turned up his toes in the parish dead-house--that's what they say in +the servants' hall. Try me in your own kitchen, and see if your servants +take me for a spy. Come, come, Mr. Lawyer! out with your ten pounds, and +don't waste any more precious time about it!" + +"I will consider and let you know," said Mr. Troy. + +Old Sharon laughed more ferociously than ever, and hobbled round the +table in a great hurry to the place at which Moody was sitting. He laid +one hand on the steward's shoulder, and pointed derisively with the +other to Mr. Troy. + +"I say, Mr. Silent-man! Bet you five pounds I never hear of that lawyer +again!" + +Silently attentive all through the interview (except when he was +answering questions), Moody only replied in the fewest words. "I don't +bet," was all he said. He showed no resentment at Sharon's familiarity, +and he appeared to find no amusement in Sharon's extraordinary talk. +The old vagabond seemed actually to produce a serious impression on him! +When Mr. Troy set the example of rising to go, he still kept his seat, +and looked at the lawyer as if he regretted leaving the atmosphere of +tobacco smoke reeking in the dirty room. + +"Have you anything to say before we go?" Mr. Troy asked. + +Moody rose slowly and looked at Old Sharon. "Not just now, sir," he +replied, looking away again, after a moment's reflection. + +Old Sharon interpreted Moody's look and Moody's reply from his own +peculiar point of view. He suddenly drew the steward away into a corner +of the room. + +"I say!" he began, in a whisper. "Upon your solemn word of honor, you +know--are you as rich as the lawyer there?" + +"Certainly not." + +"Look here! It's half price to a poor man. If you feel like coming back, +on your own account--five pounds will do from _you_. There! there! Think +of it!--think of it!" + +"Now, then!" said Mr. Troy, waiting for his companion, with the door +open in his hand. He looked back at Sharon when Moody joined him. The +old vagabond was settled again in his armchair, with his dog in his +lap, his pipe in his mouth, and his French novel in his hand; exhibiting +exactly the picture of frowzy comfort which he had presented when his +visitors first entered the room. + +"Good-day," said Mr. Troy, with haughty condescension. + +"Don't interrupt me!" rejoined Old Sharon, absorbed in his novel. +"You've had your guinea's worth. Lord! what a lovely book this is! Don't +interrupt me!" + +"Impudent scoundrel!" said Mr. Troy, when he and Moody were in the +street again. "What could my friend mean by recommending him? Fancy his +expecting me to trust him with ten pounds! I consider even the guinea +completely thrown away." + +"Begging your pardon, sir," said Moody, "I don't quite agree with you +there." + +"What! you don't mean to tell me you understand that oracular sentence +of his--'Suspect the very last person on whom suspicion could possibly +fall.' Rubbish!" + +"I don't say I understand it, sir. I only say it has set me thinking." + +"Thinking of what? Do your suspicions point to the thief?" + +"If you will please to excuse me, Mr. Troy, I should like to wait a +while before I answer that." + +Mr. Troy suddenly stood still, and eyed his companion a little +distrustfully. + +"Are you going to turn detective-policeman on your own account?" he +asked. + +"There's nothing I won't turn to, and try, to help Miss Isabel in this +matter," Moody answered, firmly. "I have saved a few hundred pounds in +Lady Lydiard's service, and I am ready to spend every farthing of it, if +I can only discover the thief." + +Mr. Troy walked on again. "Miss Isabel seems to have a good friend in +you," he said. He was (perhaps unconsciously) a little offended by +the independent tone in which the steward spoke, after he had himself +engaged to take the vindication of the girl's innocence into his own +hands. + +"Miss Isabel has a devoted servant and slave in me!" Moody answered, +with passionate enthusiasm. + +"Very creditable; I haven't a word to say against it," Mr. Troy +rejoined. "But don't forget that the young lady has other devoted +friends besides you. I am her devoted friend, for instance--I have +promised to serve her, and I mean to keep my word. You will excuse me +for adding that my experience and discretion are quite as likely to be +useful to her as your enthusiasm. I know the world well enough to be +careful in trusting strangers. It will do you no harm, Mr. Moody, to +follow my example." + +Moody accepted his reproof with becoming patience and resignation. +"If you have anything to propose, sir, that will be of service to Miss +Isabel," he said, "I shall be happy if I can assist you in the humblest +capacity." + +"And if not?" Mr. Troy inquired, conscious of having nothing to propose +as he asked the question. + +"In that case, sir, I must take my own course, and blame nobody but +myself if it leads me astray." + +Mr. Troy said no more: he parted from Moody at the next turning. + +Pursuing the subject privately in his own mind, he decided on taking +the earliest opportunity of visiting Isabel at her aunt's house, and on +warning her, in her future intercourse with Moody, not to trust too much +to the steward's discretion. "I haven't a doubt," thought the lawyer, +"of what he means to do next. The infatuated fool is going back to Old +Sharon!" + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +RETURNING to his office, Mr. Troy discovered, among the correspondence +that was waiting for him, a letter from the very person whose welfare +was still the uppermost subject in his mind. Isabel Miller wrote in +these terms: + +"Dear Sir--My aunt, Miss Pink, is very desirous of consulting you +professionally at the earliest opportunity. Although South Morden is +within little more than half an hour's railway ride from London, Miss +Pink does not presume to ask you to visit her, being well aware of the +value of your time. Will you, therefore, be so kind as to let me know +when it will be convenient to you to receive my aunt at your office in +London? Believe me, dear sir, respectfully yours, ISABEL MILLER. +P.S.--I am further instructed to say that the regrettable event at Lady +Lydiard's house is the proposed subject of the consultation. The Lawn, +South Morden. Thursday." + +Mr. Troy smiled as he read the letter. "Too formal for a young girl!" he +said to himself. "Every word of it has been dictated by Miss Pink." +He was not long in deciding what course he should take. There was a +pressing necessity for cautioning Isabel, and here was his opportunity. +He sent for his head clerk, and looked at his list of engagements for +the day. There was nothing set down in the book which the clerk was +not quite as well able to do as the master. Mr. Troy consulted his +railway-guide, ordered his cab, and caught the next train to South Morden. + +South Morden was then (and remains to this day) one of those primitive +agricultural villages, passed over by the march of modern progress, +which are still to be found in the near neighborhood of London. Only the +slow trains stopped at the station and there was so little to do that +the station-master and his porter grew flowers on the embankment, and +trained creepers over the waiting-room window. Turning your back on the +railway, and walking along the one street of South Morden, you found +yourself in the old England of two centuries since. Gabled cottages, +with fast-closed windows; pigs and poultry in quiet possession of the +road; the venerable church surrounded by its shady burial-ground; the +grocer's shop which sold everything, and the butcher's shop which sold +nothing; the scarce inhabitants who liked a good look at a stranger, and +the unwashed children who were pictures of dirty health; the clash of +the iron-chained bucket in the public well, and the thump of the falling +nine-pins in the skittle-ground behind the public-house; the horse-pond +on the one bit of open ground, and the old elm-tree with the wooden seat +round it on the other--these were some of the objects that you saw, and +some of the noises that you heard in South Morden, as you passed from +one end of the village to the other. + +About half a mile beyond the last of the old cottages, modern England +met you again under the form of a row of little villas, set up by an +adventurous London builder who had bought the land a bargain. Each villa +stood in its own little garden, and looked across a stony road at the +meadow lands and softly-rising wooded hills beyond. Each villa faced you +in the sunshine with the horrid glare of new red brick, and forced its +nonsensical name on your attention, traced in bright paint on the posts +of its entrance gate. Consulting the posts as he advanced, Mr. Troy +arrived in due course of time at the villa called The Lawn, which +derived its name apparently from a circular patch of grass in front of +the house. The gate resisting his efforts to open it, he rang the bell. + +Admitted by a trim, clean, shy little maid-servant, Mr. Troy looked +about him in amazement. Turn which way he might, he found himself +silently confronted by posted and painted instructions to visitors, +which forbade him to do this, and commanded him to do that, at every +step of his progress from the gate to the house. On the side of the lawn +a label informed him that he was not to walk on the grass. On the other +side a painted hand pointed along a boundary-wall to an inscription +which warned him to go that way if he had business in the kitchen. On +the gravel walk at the foot of the housesteps words, neatly traced in +little white shells, reminded him not to "forget the scraper". On the +doorstep he was informed, in letters of lead, that he was "Welcome!" +On the mat in the passage bristly black words burst on his attention, +commanding him to "wipe his shoes." Even the hat-stand in the hall was +not allowed to speak for itself; it had "Hats and Cloaks" inscribed on +it, and it issued its directions imperatively in the matter of your wet +umbrella--"Put it here!" + +Giving the trim little servant his card, Mr. Troy was introduced to a +reception-room on the lower floor. Before he had time to look round him +the door was opened again from without, and Isabel stole into the room +on tiptoe. She looked worn and anxious. When she shook hands with the +old lawyer the charming smile that he remembered so well was gone. + +"Don't say you have seen me," she whispered. "I am not to come into the +room till my aunt sends for me. Tell me two things before I run away +again. How is Lady Lydiard? And have you discovered the thief?" + +"Lady Lydiard was well when I last saw her; and we have not yet +succeeded in discovering the thief." Having answered the questions in +those terms, Mr. Troy decided on cautioning Isabel on the subject of +the steward while he had the chance. "One question on my side," he said, +holding her back from the door by the arm. "Do you expect Moody to visit +you here?" + +"I am _sure_ he will visit me," Isabel answered warmly. "He has promised +to come here at my request. I never knew what a kind heart Robert Moody +had till this misfortune fell on me. My aunt, who is not easily taken +with strangers, respects and admires him. I can't tell you how good he +was to me on the journey here--and how kindly, how nobly, he spoke to +me when we parted." She paused, and turned her head away. The tears were +rising in her eyes. "In my situation," she said faintly, "kindness is +very keenly felt. Don't notice me, Mr. Troy." + +The lawyer waited a moment to let her recover herself. + +"I agree entirely, my dear, in your opinion of Moody," he said. "At the +same time, I think it right to warn you that his zeal in your service +may possibly outrun his discretion. He may feel too confidently about +penetrating the mystery of the missing money; and, unless you are on +your guard, he may raise false hopes in you when you next see him. +Listen to any advice that he may give you, by all means. But, before you +decide on being guided by his opinion, consult my older experience, +and hear what I have to say on the subject. Don't suppose that I am +attempting to make you distrust this good friend," he added, noticing +the look of uneasy surprise which Isabel fixed on him. "No such idea is +in my mind. I only warn you that Moody's eagerness to be of service to +you may mislead him. You understand me." + +"Yes, sir," replied Isabel coldly; "I understand you. Please let me go +now. My aunt will be down directly; and she must not find me here." She +curtseyed with distant respect, and left the room. + +"So much for trying to put two ideas together into a girl's mind!" +thought Mr. Troy, when he was alone again. "The little fool evidently +thinks I am jealous of Moody's place in her estimation. Well! I have +done my duty--and I can do no more." + +He looked round the room. Not a chair was out of its place, not a speck +of dust was to be seen. The brightly-perfect polish of the table made +your eyes ache; the ornaments on it looked as if they had never been +touched by mortal hand; the piano was an object for distant admiration, +not an instrument to be played on; the carpet made Mr. Troy look +nervously at the soles of his shoes; and the sofa (protected by layers +of white crochet-work) said as plainly as if in words, "Sit on me if you +dare!" Mr. Troy retreated to a bookcase at the further end of the room. +The books fitted the shelves to such absolute perfection that he had +some difficulty in taking one of them out. When he had succeeded, he +found himself in possession of a volume of the History of England. On +the fly-leaf he encountered another written warning:--"This book belongs +to Miss Pink's Academy for Young Ladies, and is not to be removed from +the library." The date, which was added, referred to a period of ten +years since. Miss Pink now stood revealed as a retired schoolmistress, +and Mr. Troy began to understand some of the characteristic +peculiarities of that lady's establishment which had puzzled him up to +the present time. + +He had just succeeded in putting the book back again when the door +opened once more, and Isabel's aunt entered the room. + +If Miss Pink could, by any possible conjuncture of circumstances, have +disappeared mysteriously from her house and her friends, the police +would have found the greatest difficulty in composing the necessary +description of the missing lady. The acutest observer could have +discovered nothing that was noticeable or characteristic in her personal +appearance. The pen of the present writer portrays her in despair by a +series of negatives. She was not young, she was not old; she was neither +tall nor short, nor stout nor thin; nobody could call her features +attractive, and nobody could call them ugly; there was nothing in her +voice, her expression, her manner, or her dress that differed in any +appreciable degree from the voice, expression, manner, and dress of +five hundred thousand other single ladies of her age and position in +the world. If you had asked her to describe herself, she would have +answered, "I am a gentlewoman"; and if you had further inquired which +of her numerous accomplishments took highest rank in her own esteem, she +would have replied, "My powers of conversation." For the rest, she was +Miss Pink, of South Morden; and, when that has been said, all has been +said. + +"Pray be seated, sir. We have had a beautiful day, after the +long-continued wet weather. I am told that the season is very +unfavorable for wall-fruit. May I offer you some refreshment after +your journey?" In these terms and in the smoothest of voices, Miss Pink +opened the interview. + +Mr. Troy made a polite reply, and added a few strictly conventional +remarks on the beauty of the neighborhood. Not even a lawyer could sit +in Miss Pink's presence, and hear Miss Pink's conversation, without +feeling himself called upon (in the nursery phrase) to "be on his best +behavior". + +"It is extremely kind of you, Mr. Troy, to favor me with this visit," +Miss Pink resumed. "I am well aware that the time of professional +gentlemen is of especial value to them; and I will therefore ask you +to excuse me if I proceed abruptly to the subject on which I desire to +consult your experience." + +Here the lady modestly smoothed out her dress over her knees, and the +lawyer made a bow. Miss Pink's highly-trained conversation had perhaps +one fault--it was not, strictly speaking, conversation at all. In its +effect on her hearers it rather resembled the contents of a fluently +conventional letter, read aloud. + +"The circumstances under which my niece Isabel has left Lady Lydiard's +house," Miss Pink proceeded, "are so indescribably painful--I will go +further, I will say so deeply humiliating--that I have forbidden her to +refer to them again in my presence, or to mention them in the future +to any living creature besides myself. You are acquainted with those +circumstances, Mr. Troy; and you will understand my indignation when I +first learnt that my sister's child had been suspected of theft. I +have not the honor of being acquainted with Lady Lydiard. She is not +a Countess, I believe? Just so! Her husband was only a Baron. I am not +acquainted with Lady Lydiard; and I will not trust myself to say what I +think of her conduct to my niece." + +"Pardon me, madam," Mr. Troy interposed. "Before you say any more about +Lady Lydiard, I really must beg leave to observe--" + +"Pardon _me_," Miss Pink rejoined. "I never form a hasty judgment. Lady +Lydiard's conduct is beyond the reach of any defense, no matter how +ingenious it may be. You may not be aware, sir, that in receiving my +niece under her roof her Ladyship was receiving a gentlewoman by birth +as well as by education. My late lamented sister was the daughter of a +clergyman of the Church of England. I need hardly remind you that, +as such, she was a born lady. Under favoring circumstances, Isabel's +maternal grandfather might have been Archbishop of Canterbury, and have +taken precedence of the whole House of Peers, the Princes of the blood +Royal alone excepted. I am not prepared to say that my niece is equally +well connected on her father's side. My sister surprised--I will not add +shocked--us when she married a chemist. At the same time, a chemist +is not a tradesman. He is a gentleman at one end of the profession of +Medicine, and a titled physician is a gentleman at the other end. That +is all. In inviting Isabel to reside with her, Lady Lydiard, I repeat, +was bound to remember that she was associating herself with a young +gentlewoman. She has _not_ remembered this, which is one insult; and she +has suspected my niece of theft, which is another." + +Miss Pink paused to take breath. Mr. Troy made a second attempt to get a +hearing. + +"Will you kindly permit me, madam, to say a few words?" + +"No!" said Miss Pink, asserting the most immovable obstinacy under +the blandest politeness of manner. "Your time, Mr. Troy, is really too +valuable! Not even your trained intellect can excuse conduct which is +manifestly _in_excusable on the face of it. Now you know my opinion of +Lady Lydiard, you will not be surprised to hear that I decline to trust +her Ladyship. She may, or she may not, cause the necessary inquiries +to be made for the vindication of my niece's character. In a matter so +serious as this--I may say, in a duty which I owe to the memories of +my sister and my parents--I will not leave the responsibility to Lady +Lydiard. I will take it on myself. Let me add that I am able to pay the +necessary expenses. The earlier years of my life, Mr. Troy, have been +passed in the tuition of young ladies. I have been happy in meriting the +confidence of parents; and I have been strict in observing the golden +rules of economy. On my retirement, I have been able to invest a modest, +a very modest, little fortune in the Funds. A portion of it is at the +service of my niece for the recovery of her good name; and I desire to +place the necessary investigation confidentially in your hands. You are +acquainted with the case, and the case naturally goes to you. I could +not prevail on myself--I really could not prevail on myself--to mention +it to a stranger. That is the business on which I wished to consult you. +Please say nothing more about Lady Lydiard--the subject is inexpressibly +disagreeable to me. I will only trespass on your kindness to tell me if +I have succeeded in making myself understood." + +Miss Pink leaned back in her chair, at the exact angle permitted by the +laws of propriety; rested her left elbow on the palm of her right hand, +and lightly supported her cheek with her forefinger and thumb. In this +position she waited Mr. Troy's answer--the living picture of human +obstinacy in its most respectable form. + +If Mr. Troy had not been a lawyer--in other words, if he had not been +professionally capable of persisting in his own course, in the face of +every conceivable difficulty and discouragement--Miss Pink might have +remained in undisturbed possession of her own opinions. As it was, Mr. +Troy had got his hearing at last; and no matter how obstinately she +might close her eyes to it, Miss Pink was now destined to have the other +side of the case presented to her view. + +"I am sincerely obliged to you, madam, for the expression of your +confidence in me," Mr. Troy began; "at the same time, I must beg you to +excuse me if I decline to accept your proposal." + +Miss Pink had not expected to receive such an answer as this. The +lawyer's brief refusal surprised and annoyed her. + +"Why do you decline to assist me?" she asked. + +"Because," answered Mr. Troy, "my services are already engaged, in Miss +Isabel's interest, by a client whom I have served for more than twenty +years. My client is--" + +Miss Pink anticipated the coming disclosure. "You need not trouble +yourself, sir, to mention your client's name," she said. + +"My client," persisted Mr. Troy, "loves Miss Isabel dearly." + +"That is a matter of opinion," Miss Pink interposed. + +"And believes in Miss Isabel's innocence," proceeded the irrepressible +lawyer, "as firmly as you believe in it yourself." + +Miss Pink (being human) had a temper; and Mr. Troy had found his way to +it. + +"If Lady Lydiard believes in my niece's innocence," said Miss Pink, +suddenly sitting bolt upright in her chair, "why has my niece been +compelled, in justice to herself, to leave Lady Lydiard's house?" + +"You will admit, madam," Mr. Troy answered cautiously, "that we are all +of us liable, in this wicked world, to be the victims of appearances. +Your niece is a victim--an innocent victim. She wisely withdraws from +Lady Lydiard's house until appearances are proved to be false and her +position is cleared up." + +Miss Pink had her reply ready. "That is simply acknowledging, in other +words, that my niece is suspected. I am only a woman, Mr. Troy--but it +is not quite so easy to mislead me as you seem to suppose." + +Mr. Troy's temper was admirably trained. But it began to acknowledge +that Miss Pink's powers of irritation could sting to some purpose. + +"No intention of misleading you, madam, has ever crossed my mind," he +rejoined warmly. "As for your niece, I can tell you this. In all my +experience of Lady Lydiard, I never saw her so distressed as she was +when Miss Isabel left the house!" + +"Indeed!" said Miss Pink, with an incredulous smile. "In my rank of +life, when we feel distressed about a person, we do our best to comfort +that person by a kind letter or an early visit. But then I am not a lady +of title." + +"Lady Lydiard engaged herself to call on Miss Isabel in my hearing," +said Mr. Troy. "Lady Lydiard is the most generous woman living!" + +"Lady Lydiard is here!" cried a joyful voice on the other side of the +door. + +At the same moment, Isabel burst into the room in a state of excitement +which actually ignored the formidable presence of Miss Pink. "I beg your +pardon, aunt! I was upstairs at the window, and I saw the carriage +stop at the gate. And Tommie has come, too! The darling saw me at the +window!" cried the poor girl, her eyes sparkling with delight as a +perfect explosion of barking made itself heard over the tramp of horses' +feet and the crash of carriage wheels outside. + +Miss Pink rose slowly, with a dignity that looked capable of adequately +receiving--not one noble lady only, but the whole peerage of England. + +"Control yourself, dear Isabel," she said. "No well-bred young lady +permits herself to become unduly excited. Stand by my side--a little +behind me." + +Isabel obeyed. Mr. Troy kept his place, and privately enjoyed his +triumph over Miss Pink. If Lady Lydiard had been actually in league with +him, she could not have chosen a more opportune time for her visit. A +momentary interval passed. The carriage drew up at the door; the horses +trampled on the gravel; the bell rung madly; the uproar of Tommie, +released from the carriage and clamoring to be let in, redoubled its +fury. Never before had such an unruly burst of noises invaded the +tranquility of Miss Pink's villa! + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE trim little maid-servant ran upstairs from her modest little +kitchen, trembling at the terrible prospect of having to open the door. +Miss Pink, deafened by the barking, had just time to say, "What a very +ill-behaved dog!" when a sound of small objects overthrown in the hall, +and a scurrying of furious claws across the oil-cloth, announced that +Tommie had invaded the house. As the servant appeared, introducing Lady +Lydiard, the dog ran in. He made one frantic leap at Isabel, which would +certainly have knocked her down but for the chair that happened to be +standing behind her. Received on her lap, the faithful creature half +smothered her with his caresses. He barked, he shrieked, in his joy at +seeing her again. He jumped off her lap and tore round and round the +room at the top of his speed; and every time he passed Miss Pink he +showed the whole range of his teeth and snarled ferociously at her +ankles. Having at last exhausted his superfluous energy, he leaped back +again on Isabel's lap, with his tongue quivering in his open mouth--his +tail wagging softly, and his eye on Miss Pink, inquiring how she liked a +dog in her drawing-room! + +"I hope my dog has not disturbed you, ma'am?" said Lady Lydiard, +advancing from the mat at the doorway, on which she had patiently waited +until the raptures of Tommie subsided into repose. + +Miss Pink, trembling between terror and indignation, acknowledged Lady +Lydiard's polite inquiry by a ceremonious bow, and an answer which +administered by implication a dignified reproof. "Your Ladyship's dog +does not appear to be a very well-trained animal," the ex-schoolmistress +remarked. + +"Well trained?" Lady Lydiard repeated, as if the expression was +perfectly unintelligible to her. "I don't think you have had much +experience of dogs, ma'am." She turned to Isabel, and embraced her +tenderly. "Give me a kiss, my dear--you don't know how wretched I have +been since you left me." She looked back again at Miss Pink. "You are +not, perhaps, aware, ma'am, that my dog is devotedly attached to your +niece. A dog's love has been considered by many great men (whose names +at the moment escape me) as the most touching and disinterested of +all earthly affections." She looked the other way, and discovered the +lawyer. "How do you do, Mr. Troy? It's a pleasant surprise to find you +here The house was so dull without Isabel that I really couldn't put off +seeing her any longer. When you are more used to Tommie, Miss Pink, +you will understand and admire him. _You_ understand and admire him, +Isabel--don't you? My child! you are not looking well. I shall take you +back with me, when the horses have had their rest. We shall never be +happy away from each other." + +Having expressed her sentiments, distributed her greetings, and defended +her dog--all, as it were, in one breath--Lady Lydiard sat down by +Isabel's side, and opened a large green fan that hung at her girdle. +"You have no idea, Miss Pink, how fat people suffer in hot weather," +said the old lady, using her fan vigorously. + +Miss Pink's eyes dropped modestly to the ground--"fat" was such a coarse +word to use, if a lady _must_ speak of her own superfluous flesh! "May I +offer some refreshment?" Miss Pink asked, mincingly. "A cup of tea?" + +Lady Lydiard shook her head. + +"A glass of water?" + +Lady Lydiard declined this last hospitable proposal with an exclamation +of disgust. "Have you got any beer?" she inquired. + +"I beg your Ladyship's pardon," said Miss Pink, doubting the evidence of +her own ears. "Did you say--beer?" + +Lady Lydiard gesticulated vehemently with her fan. "Yes, to be sure! +Beer! beer!" + +Miss Pink rose, with a countenance expressive of genteel disgust, and +rang the bell. "I think you have beer downstairs, Susan?" she said, when +the maid appeared at the door. + +"Yes, miss." + +"A glass of beer for Lady Lydiard," said Miss Pink--under protest. + +"Bring it in a jug," shouted her Ladyship, as the maid left the room. +"I like to froth it up for myself," she continued, addressing Miss Pink. +"Isabel sometimes does it for me, when she is at home--don't you, my +dear?" + +Miss Pink had been waiting her opportunity to assert her own claim to +the possession of her own niece, from the time when Lady Lydiard had +coolly declared her intention of taking Isabel back with her. The +opportunity now presented itself. + +"Your Ladyship will pardon me," she said, "if I remark that my niece's +home is under my humble roof. I am properly sensible, I hope, of your +kindness to Isabel, but while she remains the object of a disgraceful +suspicion she remains with me." + +Lady Lydiard closed her fan with an angry snap. + +"You are completely mistaken, Miss Pink. You may not mean it--but you +speak most unjustly if you say that your niece is an object of suspicion +to me, or to anybody in my house." + +Mr. Troy, quietly listening up to this point now interposed to stop the +discussion before it could degenerate into a personal quarrel. His keen +observation, aided by his accurate knowledge of his client's character, +had plainly revealed to him what was passing in Lady Lydiard's mind. +She had entered the house, feeling (perhaps unconsciously) a jealousy of +Miss Pink, as her predecessor in Isabel's affections, and as the natural +protectress of the girl under existing circumstances. Miss Pink's +reception of her dog had additionally irritated the old lady. She had +taken a malicious pleasure in shocking the schoolmistress's sense +of propriety--and she was now only too ready to proceed to further +extremities on the delicate question of Isabel's justification for +leaving her house. For Isabel's own sake, therefore--to say nothing of +other reasons--it was urgently desirable to keep the peace between the +two ladies. With this excellent object in view, Mr. Troy seized his +opportunity of striking into the conversation for the first time. + +"Pardon me, Lady Lydiard," he said, "you are speaking of a subject which +has been already sufficiently discussed between Miss Pink and myself. I +think we shall do better not to dwell uselessly on past events, but to +direct our attention to the future. We are all equally satisfied of +the complete rectitude of Miss Isabel's conduct, and we are all equally +interested in the vindication of her good name." + +Whether these temperate words would of themselves have exercised the +pacifying influence at which Mr. Troy aimed may be doubtful. But, as he +ceased speaking, a powerful auxiliary appeared in the shape of the beer. +Lady Lydiard seized on the jug, and filled the tumbler for herself with +an unsteady hand. Miss Pink, trembling for the integrity of her carpet, +and scandalized at seeing a peeress drinking beer like a washer-woman, +forgot the sharp answer that was just rising to her lips when the lawyer +interfered. "Small!" said Lady Lydiard, setting down the empty tumbler, +and referring to the quality of the beer. "But very pleasant and +refreshing. What's the servant's name? Susan? Well, Susan, I was dying +of thirst and you have saved my life. You can leave the jug--I dare say +I shall empty it before I go." + +Mr. Troy, watching Miss Pink's face, saw that it was time to change the +subject again. + +"Did you notice the old village, Lady Lydiard, on your way here?" he +asked. "The artists consider it one of the most picturesque places in +England." + +"I noticed that it was a very dirty village," Lady Lydiard answered, +still bent on making herself disagreeable to Miss Pink. "The artists may +say what they please; I see nothing to admire in rotten cottages, and +bad drainage, and ignorant people. I suppose the neighborhood has its +advantages. It looks dull enough, to my mind." + +Isabel had hitherto modestly restricted her exertions to keeping +Tommie quiet on her lap. Like Mr. Troy, she occasionally looked at her +aunt--and she now made a timid attempt to defend the neighborhood as a +duty that she owed to Miss Pink. + +"Oh, my Lady! don't say it's a dull neighborhood," she pleaded. "There +are such pretty walks all round us. And, when you get to the hills, the +view is beautiful." + +Lady Lydiard's answer to this was a little masterpiece of good-humored +contempt. She patted Isabel's cheek, and said, "Pooh! Pooh!" + +"Your Ladyship does not admire the beauties of Nature," Miss Pink +remarked, with a compassionate smile. "As we get older, no doubt our +sight begins to fail--" + +"And we leave off canting about the beauties of Nature," added Lady +Lydiard. "I hate the country. Give me London, and the pleasures of +society." + +"Come! come! Do the country justice, Lady Lydiard!" put in peace-making +Mr. Troy. "There is plenty of society to be found out of London--as good +society as the world can show." + +"The sort of society," added Miss Pink, "which is to be found, for +example, in this neighborhood. Her Ladyship is evidently not aware +that persons of distinction surround us, whichever way we turn. I may +instance among others, the Honorable Mr. Hardyman--" + +Lady Lydiard, in the act of pouring out a second glassful of beer, +suddenly set down the jug. + +"Who is that you're talking of, Miss Pink?" + +"I am talking of our neighbor, Lady Lydiard--the Honorable Mr. +Hardyman." + +"Do you mean Alfred Hardyman--the man who breeds the horses?" + +"The distinguished gentleman who owns the famous stud-farm," said Miss +Pink, correcting the bluntly-direct form in which Lady Lydiard had put +her question. + +"Is he in the habit of visiting here?" the old lady inquired, with a +sudden appearance of anxiety. "Do you know him?" + +"I had the honor of being introduced to Mr. Hardyman at our last flower +show," Miss Pink replied. "He has not yet favored me with a visit." + +Lady Lydiard's anxiety appeared to be to some extent relieved. + +"I knew that Hardyman's farm was in this county," she said; "but I had +no notion that it was in the neighborhood of South Morden. How far away +is he--ten or a dozen miles, eh?" + +"Not more than three miles," answered Miss Pink. "We consider him quite +a near neighbor of ours." + +Renewed anxiety showed itself in Lady Lydiard. She looked round sharply +at Isabel. The girl's head was bent so low over the rough head of the +dog that her face was almost entirely concealed from view. So far as +appearances went, she seemed to be entirely absorbed in fondling Tommie. +Lady Lydiard roused her with a tap of the green fan. + +"Take Tommie out, Isabel, for a run in the garden," she said. "He won't +sit still much longer--and he may annoy Miss Pink. Mr. Troy, will you +kindly help Isabel to keep my ill-trained dog in order?" + +Mr. Troy got on his feet, and, not very willingly, followed Isabel out +of the room. "They will quarrel now, to a dead certainty!" he thought to +himself, as he closed the door. "Have you any idea of what this means?" +he said to his companion, as he joined her in the hall. "What has Mr. +Hardyman done to excite all this interest in him?" + +Isabel's guilty color rose. She knew perfectly well that Hardyman's +unconcealed admiration of her was the guiding motive of Lady Lydiard's +inquiries. If she had told the truth, Mr. Troy would have unquestionably +returned to the drawing-room, with or without an acceptable excuse +for intruding himself. But Isabel was a woman; and her answer, it is +needless to say, was "I don't know, I'm sure." + +In the mean time, the interview between the two ladies began in a manner +which would have astonished Mr. Troy--they were both silent. For once +in her life Lady Lydiard was considering what she should say, before she +said it. Miss Pink, on her side, naturally waited to hear what object +her Ladyship had in view--waited, until her small reserve of patience +gave way. Urged by irresistible curiosity, she spoke first. + +"Have you anything to say to me in private?" she asked. + +Lady Lydiard had not got to the end of her reflections. She said +"Yes!"--and she said no more. + +"Is it anything relating to my niece?" persisted Miss Pink. + +Still immersed in her reflections, Lady Lydiard suddenly rose to the +surface, and spoke her mind, as usual. + +"About your niece, ma'am. The other day Mr. Hardyman called at my house, +and saw Isabel." + +"Yes," said Miss Pink, politely attentive, but not in the least +interested, so far. + +"That's not all ma'am. Mr. Hardyman admires Isabel; he owned it to me +himself in so many words." + +Miss Pink listened, with a courteous inclination of her head. She looked +mildly gratified, nothing more. Lady Lydiard proceeded: + +"You and I think differently on many matters," she said. "But we are +both agreed, I am sure, in feeling the sincerest interest in Isabel's +welfare. I beg to suggest to you, Miss Pink, that Mr. Hardyman, as a +near neighbor of yours, is a very undesirable neighbor while Isabel +remains in your house." + +Saying those words, under a strong conviction of the serious importance +of the subject, Lady Lydiard insensibly recovered the manner and resumed +the language which befitted a lady of her rank. Miss Pink, noticing the +change, set it down to an expression of pride on the part of her visitor +which, in referring to Isabel, assailed indirectly the social position +of Isabel's aunt. + +"I fail entirely to understand what your Ladyship means," she said +coldly. + +Lady Lydiard, on her side, looked in undisguised amazement at Miss Pink. + +"Haven't I told you already that Mr. Hardyman admires your niece?" she +asked. + +"Naturally," said Miss Pink. "Isabel inherits her lamented mother's +personal advantages. If Mr. Hardyman admires her, Mr. Hardyman shows his +good taste." + +Lady Lydiard's eyes opened wider and wider in wonder. "My good lady!" +she exclaimed, "is it possible you don't know that when a man admires +a women he doesn't stop there? He falls in love with her (as the saying +is) next." + +"So I have heard," said Miss Pink. + +"So you have _heard?_" repeated Lady Lydiard. "If Mr. Hardyman finds +his way to Isabel I can tell you what you will _see_. Catch the two +together, ma'am--and you will see Mr. Hardyman making love to your +niece." + +"Under due restrictions, Lady Lydiard, and with my permission first +obtained, of course, I see no objection to Mr. Hardyman paying his +addresses to Isabel." + +"The woman is mad!" cried Lady Lydiard. "Do you actually suppose, Miss +Pink, that Alfred Hardyman could, by any earthly possibility, marry your +niece!" + +Not even Miss Pink's politeness could submit to such a question as this. +She rose indignantly from her chair. "As you aware, Lady Lydiard, that +the doubt you have just expressed is an insult to my niece, and a insult +to Me?" + +"Are _you_ aware of who Mr. Hardyman really is?" retorted her Ladyship. +"Or do you judge of his position by the vocation in life which he has +perversely chosen to adopt? I can tell you, if you do, that Alfred +Hardyman is the younger son of one of the oldest barons in the English +Peerage, and that his mother is related by marriage to the Royal family +of Wurtemberg." + +Miss Pink received the full shock of this information without receding +from her position by a hair-breadth. + +"An English gentlewoman offers a fit alliance to any man living who +seeks her hand in marriage," said Miss Pink. "Isabel's mother (you may +not be aware of it) was the daughter of an English clergyman--" + +"And Isabel's father was a chemist in a country town," added Lady +Lydiard. + +"Isabel's father," rejoined Miss Pink, "was attached in a most +responsible capacity to the useful and honorable profession of Medicine. +Isabel is, in the strictest sense of the word, a young gentlewoman. If +you contradict that for a single instant, Lady Lydiard, you will oblige +me to leave the room." + +Those last words produced a result which Miss Pink had not +anticipated--they roused Lady Lydiard to assert herself. As usual in +such cases, she rose superior to her own eccentricity. Confronting +Miss Pink, she now spoke and looked with the gracious courtesy and the +unpresuming self-confidence of the order to which she belonged. + +"For Isabel's own sake, and for the quieting of my conscience," she +answered, "I will say one word more, Miss Pink, before I relieve you +of my presence. Considering my age and my opportunities, I may claim +to know quite as much as you do of the laws and customs which +regulate society in our time. Without contesting your niece's social +position--and without the slightest intention of insulting you--I repeat +that the rank which Mr. Hardyman inherits makes it simply impossible for +him even to think of marrying Isabel. You will do well not to give him +any opportunities of meeting with her alone. And you will do better +still (seeing that he is so near a neighbor of yours) if you permit +Isabel to return to my protection, for a time at least. I will wait to +hear from you when you have thought the matter over at your leisure. +In the mean time, if I have inadvertently offended you, I ask your +pardon--and I wish you good-evening." + +She bowed, and walked to the door. Miss Pink, as resolute as ever in +maintaining her pretensions, made an effort to match the great lady on +her own ground. + +"Before you go, Lady Lydiard, I beg to apologize if I have spoken too +warmly on my side," she said. "Permit me to send for your carriage." + +"Thank you, Miss Pink. My carriage is only at the village inn. I shall +enjoy a little walk in the cool evening air. Mr. Troy, I have no doubt, +will give me his arm." She bowed once more, and quietly left the room. + +Reaching the little back garden of the villa, through an open door +at the further end of the hall, Lady Lydiard found Tommie rolling +luxuriously on Miss Pink's flower-beds, and Isabel and Mr. Troy in close +consultation on the gravel walk. + +She spoke to the lawyer first. + +"They are baiting the horses at the inn," she said. "I want your arm, +Mr. Troy, as far as the village--and, in return, I will take you back +to London with me. I have to ask your advice about one or two little +matters, and this is a good opportunity." + +"With the greatest pleasure, Lady Lydiard. I suppose I must say good-by +to Miss Pink?" + +"A word of advice to you, Mr. Troy. Take care how you ruffle Miss Pink's +sense of her own importance. Another word for your private ear. Miss +Pink is a fool." + +On the lawyer's withdrawal, Lady Lydiard put her arm fondly round +Isabel's waist. "What were you and Mr. Troy so busy in talking about?" +she asked. + +"We were talking, my Lady, about tracing the person who stole the +money," Isabel answered, rather sadly. "It seems a far more difficult +matter than I supposed it to be. I try not to lose patience and +hope--but it is a little hard to feel that appearances are against me, +and to wait day after day in vain for the discovery that is to set me +right." + +"You are a dear good child," said Lady Lydiard; "and you are more +precious to me than ever. Don't despair, Isabel. With Mr. Troy's means +of inquiring, and with my means of paying, the discovery of the thief +cannot be much longer delayed. If you don't return to me soon, I shall +come back and see you again. Your aunt hates the sight of me--but I +don't care two straws for that," remarked Lady Lydiard, showing the +undignified side of her character once more. "Listen to me, Isabel! I +have no wish to lower your aunt in your estimation, but I feel far more +confidence in your good sense than in hers. Mr. Hardyman's business has +taken him to France for the present. It is at least possible that you +may meet with him on his return. If you do, keep him at a distance, my +dear--politely, of course. There! there! you needn't turn red; I am not +blaming you; I am only giving you a little good advice. In your position +you cannot possibly be too careful. Here is Mr. Troy! You must come to +the gate with us, Isabel, or we shall never get Tommie away from you; I +am only his second favorite; you have the first place in his affections. +God bless and prosper you, my child!--I wish to heaven you were going +back to London with me! Well, Mr. Troy, how have you done with Miss +Pink? Have you offended that terrible 'gentlewoman' (hateful word!); or +has it been all the other way, and has she given you a kiss at parting?" + +Mr. Troy smiled mysteriously, and changed the subject. His brief parting +interview with the lady of the house was not of a nature to be rashly +related. Miss Pink had not only positively assured him that her visitor +was the most ill-bred woman she had ever met with, but had further +accused Lady Lydiard of shaking her confidence in the aristocracy of her +native country. "For the first time in my life," said Miss Pink, "I feel +that something is to be said for the Republican point of view; and I am +not indisposed to admit that the constitution of the United States _has_ +its advantages!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE conference between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy, on the way back to +London, led to some practical results. + +Hearing from her legal adviser that the inquiry after the missing money +was for a moment at a standstill, Lady Lydiard made one of those bold +suggestions with which she was accustomed to startle her friends in +cases of emergency. She had heard favorable reports of the extraordinary +ingenuity of the French police; and she now proposed sending to Paris +for assistance, after first consulting her nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir. +"Felix knows Paris as well as he knows London," she remarked. "He is an +idle man, and it is quite likely that he will relieve us of all trouble +by taking the matter into his own hands. In any case, he is sure to know +who are the right people to address in our present necessity. What do +you say?" + +Mr. Troy, in reply, expressed his doubts as to the wisdom of employing +foreigners in a delicate investigation which required an accurate +knowledge of English customs and English character. Waiving this +objection, he approved of the idea of consulting her Ladyship's nephew. +"Mr. Sweetsir is a man of the world," he said. "In putting the case +before him, we are sure to have it presented to us from a new point +of view." Acting on this favorable expression of opinion, Lady Lydiard +wrote to her nephew. On the day after the visit to Miss Pink, the +proposed council of three was held at Lady Lydiard's house. + +Felix, never punctual at keeping an appointment, was even later than +usual on this occasion. He made his apologies with his hand pressed upon +his forehead, and his voice expressive of the languor and discouragement +of a suffering man. + +"The beastly English climate is telling on my nerves," said Mr. +Sweetsir--"the horrid weight of the atmosphere, after the exhilarating +air of Paris; the intolerable dirt and dullness of London, you know. I +was in bed, my dear aunt, when I received your letter. You may imagine +the completely demoralised state I was in, when I tell you of the +effect which the news of the robbery produced on me. I fell back on my +pillow, as if I had been shot. Your Ladyship should really be a +little more careful in communicating these disagreeable surprises to a +sensitively-organised man. Never mind--my valet is a perfect treasure; +he brought me some drops of ether on a lump of sugar. I said, 'Alfred' +(his name is Alfred), 'put me into my clothes!' Alfred put me in. I +assure you it reminded me of my young days, when I was put into my first +pair of trousers. Has Alfred forgotten anything? Have I got my braces +on? Have I come out in my shirt-sleeves? Well, dear aunt;--well, Mr. +Troy!--what can I say? What can I do?" + +Lady Lydiard, entirely without sympathy for nervous suffering, nodded to +the lawyer. "You tell him," she said. + +"I believe I speak for her Ladyship," Mr. Troy began, "when I say that +we should like to hear, in the first place, how the whole case strikes +you, Mr. Sweetsir?" + +"Tell it me all over again," said Felix. + +Patient Mr. Troy told it all over again--and waited for the result. + +"Well?" said Felix. + +"Well?" said Mr. Troy. "Where does the suspicion of robbery rest in your +opinion? You look at the theft of the bank-note with a fresh eye." + +"You mentioned a clergyman just now," said Felix. "The man, you know, to +whom the money was sent. What was his name?" + +"The Reverend Samuel Bradstock." + +"You want me to name the person whom I suspect?" + +"Yes, if you please," said Mr. Troy. + +"I suspect the Reverend Samuel Bradstock," said Felix. + +"If you have come here to make stupid jokes," interposed Lady Lydiard, +"you had better go back to your bed again. We want a serious opinion." + +"You _have_ a serious opinion," Felix coolly rejoined. "I never was more +in earnest in my life. Your Ladyship is not aware of the first principle +to be adopted in cases of suspicion. One proceeds on what I will call +the exhaustive system of reasoning. Thus: Does suspicion point to the +honest servants downstairs? No. To your Ladyship's adopted daughter? +Appearances are against the poor girl; but you know her better than to +trust to appearances. Are you suspicious of Moody? No. Of Hardyman--who +was in the house at the time? Ridiculous! But I was in the house at the +time, too. Do you suspect Me? Just so! That idea is ridiculous, too. +Now let us sum up. Servants, adopted daughter, Moody, Hardyman, +Sweetsir--all beyond suspicion. Who is left? The Reverend Samuel +Bradstock." + +This ingenious exposition of "the exhaustive system of reasoning," +failed to produce any effect on Lady Lydiard. "You are wasting our +time," she said sharply. "You know as well as I do that you are talking +nonsense." + +"I don't," said Felix. "Taking the gentlemanly professions all round, +I know of no men who are so eager to get money, and who have so few +scruples about how they get it, as the parsons. Where is there a man in +any other profession who perpetually worries you for money?--who holds +the bag under your nose for money?--who sends his clerk round from +door to door to beg a few shillings of you, and calls it an 'Easter +offering'? The parson does all this. Bradstock is a parson. I put it +logically. Bowl me over, if you can." + +Mr. Troy attempted to "bowl him over," nevertheless. Lady Lydiard wisely +interposed. + +"When a man persists in talking nonsense," she said, "silence is the +best answer; anything else only encourages him." She turned to Felix. +"I have a question to ask you," she went on. "You will either give me +a serious reply, or wish me good-morning." With this brief preface, +she made her inquiry as to the wisdom and possibility of engaging the +services of the French police. + +Felix took exactly the view of the matter which had been already +expressed by Mr. Troy. "Superior in intelligence," he said, "but not +superior in courage, to the English police. Capable of performing +wonders on their own ground and among their own people. But, my dear +aunt, the two most dissimilar nations on the face of the earth are the +English and the French. The French police may speak our language--but +they are incapable of understanding our national character and our +national manners. Set them to work on a private inquiry in the city of +Pekin--and they would get on in time with the Chinese people. Set them +to work in the city of London--and the English people would remain, from +first to last, the same impenetrable mystery to them. In my belief the +London Sunday would be enough of itself to drive them back to Paris +in despair. No balls, no concerts, no theaters, not even a museum or a +picture-gallery open; every shop shut up but the gin-shop; and nothing +moving but the church bells and the men who sell the penny ices. +Hundreds of Frenchmen come to see me on their first arrival in England. +Every man of them rushes back to Paris on the second Saturday of his +visit, rather than confront the horrors of a second Sunday in London! +However, you can try it if you like. Send me a written abstract of the +case, and I will forward it to one of the official people in the Rue +Jerusalem, who will do anything he can to oblige me. Of course," said +Felix, turning to Mr. Troy, "some of you have got the number of the lost +bank-note? If the thief has tried to pass it in Paris, my man may be of +some use to you." + +"Three of us have got the number of the note," answered Mr. Troy; "Miss +Isabel Miller, Mr. Moody, and myself." + +"Very good," said Felix. "Send me the number, with the abstract of the +case. Is there anything else I can do towards recovering the money?" +he asked, turning to his aunt. "There is one lucky circumstance in +connection with this loss--isn't there? It has fallen on a person who +is rich enough to take it easy. Good heavens! suppose it had been _my_ +loss!" + +"It has fallen doubly on me," said Lady Lydiard; "and I am certainly +not rich enough to take it _that_ easy. The money was destined to a +charitable purpose; and I have felt it my duty to pay it again." + +Felix rose and approached his aunt's chair with faltering steps, as +became a suffering man. He took Lady Lydiard's hand and kissed it with +enthusiastic admiration. + +"You excellent creature!" he said. "You may not think it, but you +reconcile me to human nature. How generous! how noble! I think I'll go +to bed again, Mr. Troy, if you really don't want any more of me. My head +feels giddy and my legs tremble under me. It doesn't matter; I shall +feel easier when Alfred has taken me out of my clothes again. God bless +you, my dear aunt! I never felt so proud of being related to you as I +do to-day. Good-morning Mr. Troy! Don't forget the abstract of the case; +and don't trouble yourself to see me to the door. I dare say I shan't +tumble downstairs; and, if I do, there's the porter in the hall to pick +me up again. Enviable porter! as fat as butter and as idle as a pig! _Au +revoir! au revoir!_" He kissed his hand, and drifted feebly out of +the room. Sweetsir one might say, in a state of eclipse; but still the +serviceable Sweetsir, who was never consulted in vain by the fortunate +people privileged to call him friend! + +"Is he really ill, do you think?" Mr. Troy asked. + +"My nephew has turned fifty," Lady Lydiard answered, "and he persists in +living as if he was a young man. Every now and then Nature says to him, +'Felix, you are old!' And Felix goes to bed, and says it's his nerves." + +"I suppose he is to be trusted to keep his word about writing to Paris?" +pursued the lawyer. + +"Oh, yes! He may delay doing it but he will do it. In spite of his +lackadaisical manner, he has moments of energy that would surprise you. +Talking of surprises, I have something to tell you about Moody. Within +the last day or two there has been a marked change in him--a change for +the worse." + +"You astonish me, Lady Lydiard! In what way has Moody deteriorated?" + +"You shall hear. Yesterday was Friday. You took him out with you, on +business, early in the morning." + +Mr. Troy bowed, and said nothing. He had not thought it desirable to +mention the interview at which Old Sharon had cheated him of his guinea. + +"In the course of the afternoon," pursued Lady Lydiard, "I happened to +want him, and I was informed that Moody had gone out again. Where had he +gone? Nobody knew. Had he left word when he would be back? He had left +no message of any sort. Of course, he is not in the position of an +ordinary servant. I don't expect him to ask permission to go out. But I +do expect him to leave word downstairs of the time at which he is likely +to return. When he did come back, after an absence of some hours, I +naturally asked for an explanation. Would you believe it? he simply +informed me that he had been away on business of his own; expressed +no regret, and offered no explanation--in short, spoke as if he was an +independent gentleman. You may not think it, but I kept my temper. I +merely remarked that I hoped it would not happen again. He made me a +bow, and he said, 'My business is not completed yet, my Lady. I cannot +guarantee that it may not call me away again at a moment's notice.' +What do you think of that? Nine people out of ten would have given +him warning to leave their service. I begin to think I am a wonderful +woman--I only pointed to the door. One does hear sometimes of men's +brains softening in the most unexpected manner. I have my suspicions of +Moody's brains, I can tell you." + +Mr. Troy's suspicions took a different direction: they pointed along the +line of streets which led to Old Sharon's lodgings. Discreetly silent as +to the turn which his thoughts had taken, he merely expressed himself as +feeling too much surprised to offer any opinion at all. + +"Wait a little," said Lady Lydiard, "I haven't done surprising you yet. +You have seen a boy here in a page's livery, I think? Well, he is a good +boy; and he has gone home for a week's holiday with his friends. The +proper person to supply his place with the boots and shoes and other +small employments, is of course the youngest footman, a lad only a +few years older than himself. What do you think Moody does? Engages a +stranger, with the house full of idle men-servants already, to fill the +page's place. At intervals this morning I heard them wonderfully merry +in the servants hall--_so_ merry that the noise and laughter found its +way upstairs to the breakfast-room. I like my servants to be in good +spirits; but it certainly did strike me that they were getting beyond +reasonable limits. I questioned my maid, and was informed that the noise +was all due to the jokes of the strangest old man that ever was seen. +In other words, to the person whom my steward had taken it on himself +to engage in the page's absence. I spoke to Moody on the subject. He +answered in an odd, confused way, that he had exercised his discretion +to the best of his judgment and that (if I wished it), he would tell the +old man to keep his good spirits under better control. I asked him +how he came to hear of the man. He only answered, 'By accident, my +Lady'--and not one more word could I get out of him, good or bad. Moody +engages the servants, as you know; but on every other occasion he has +invariably consulted me before an engagement was settled. I really don't +feel at all sure about this person who has been so strangely introduced +into the house--he may be a drunkard or a thief. I wish you would speak +to Moody yourself, Mr. Troy. Do you mind ringing the bell?" + +Mr. Troy rose, as a matter of course, and rang the bell. + +He was by this time, it is needless to say, convinced that Moody had +not only gone back to consult Old Sharon on his own responsibility, but +worse still, had taken the unwarrantable liberty of introducing him, as +a spy, into the house. To communicate this explanation to Lady Lydiard +would, in her present humor, be simply to produce the dismissal of the +steward from her service. The only other alternative was to ask leave to +interrogate Moody privately, and, after duly reproving him, to insist on +the departure of Old Sharon as the one condition on which Mr. Troy would +consent to keep Lady Lydiard in ignorance of the truth. + +"I think I shall manage better with Moody, if your Ladyship will permit +me to see him in private," the lawyer said. "Shall I go downstairs and +speak with him in his own room?" + +"Why should you trouble yourself to do that?" said her Ladyship. "See +him here; and I will go into the boudoir." + +As she made that reply, the footman appeared at the drawing-room door. + +"Send Moody here," said Lady Lydiard. + +The footman's answer, delivered at that moment, assumed an importance +which was not expressed in the footman's words. "My Lady," he said, "Mr. +Moody has gone out." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +WHILE the strange proceedings of the steward were the subject of +conversation between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy, Moody was alone in his +room, occupied in writing to Isabel. Being unwilling that any eyes but +his own should see the address, he had himself posted his letter; the +time that he had chosen for leaving the house proving, unfortunately, +to be also the time proposed by her Ladyship for his interview with the +lawyer. In ten minutes after the footman had reported his absence, Moody +returned. It was then too late to present himself in the drawing-room. +In the interval, Mr. Troy had taken his leave, and Moody's position had +dropped a degree lower in Lady Lydiard's estimation. + +Isabel received her letter by the next morning's post. If any +justification of Mr. Troy's suspicions had been needed, the terms in +which Moody wrote would have amply supplied it. + + +"DEAR ISABEL (I hope I may call you 'Isabel' without offending you, in +your present trouble?)--I have a proposal to make, which, whether +you accept it or not, I beg you will keep a secret from every living +creature but ourselves. You will understand my request, when I add that +these lines relate to the matter of tracing the stolen bank-note. + +"I have been privately in communication with a person in London, who is, +as I believe, the one person competent to help us in gaining our end. +He has already made many inquiries in private. With some of them I am +acquainted; the rest he has thus far kept to himself. The person to whom +I allude, particularly wishes to have half an hour's conversation with +you in my presence. I am bound to warn you that he is a very strange +and very ugly old man; and I can only hope that you will look over his +personal appearance in consideration of what he is likely to do for your +future advantage. + +"Can you conveniently meet us, at the further end of the row of villas +in which your aunt lives, the day after to-morrow, at four o'clock? Let +me have a line to say if you will keep the appointment, and if the hour +named will suit you. And believe me your devoted friend and servant, + +"ROBERT MOODY." + + +The lawyer's warning to her to be careful how she yielded too readily to +any proposal of Moody's recurred to Isabel's mind while she read those +lines. Being pledged to secrecy, she could not consult Mr. Troy--she was +left to decide for herself. + +No obstacle stood in the way of her free choice of alternatives. After +their early dinner at three o'clock, Miss Pink habitually retired to +her own room "to meditate," as she expressed it. Her "meditations" +inevitably ended in a sound sleep of some hours; and during that +interval Isabel was at liberty to do as she pleased. After considerable +hesitation, her implicit belief in Moody's truth and devotion, assisted +by a strong feeling of curiosity to see the companion with whom the +steward had associated himself, decided Isabel on consenting to keep the +appointment. + +Taking up her position beyond the houses, on the day and at the hour +mentioned by Moody, she believed herself to be fully prepared for the +most unfavorable impression which the most disagreeable of all possible +strangers could produce. + +But the first appearance of Old Sharon--as dirty as ever, clothed in +a long, frowzy, gray overcoat, with his pug-dog at his heels, and his +smoke-blackened pipe in his mouth, with a tan white hat on his head, +which looked as if it had been picked up in a gutter, a hideous leer +in his eyes, and a jaunty trip in his walk--took her so completely +by surprise that she could only return Moody's friendly greeting by +silently pressing his hand. As for Moody's companion, to look at him for +a second time was more than she had resolution to do. She kept her eyes +fixed on the pug-dog, and with good reason; as far as appearances went, +he was indisputably the nobler animal of the two. + +Under the circumstances, the interview threatened to begin in a very +embarrassing manner. Moody, disheartened by Isabel's silence, made no +attempt to set the conversation going; he looked as if he meditated +a hasty retreat to the railway station which he had just left. +Fortunately, he had at his side the right man (for once) in the right +place. Old Sharon's effrontery was equal to any emergency. + +"I am not a nice-looking old man, my dear, am I?" he said, leering at +Isabel with cunning, half-closed eyes. "Bless your heart! you'll soon +get used to me! You see, I am the sort of color, as they say at the +linen-drapers, that doesn't wash well. It's all through love; upon +my life it is! Early in the present century I had my young affections +blighted; and I've neglected myself ever since. Disappointment takes +different forms, miss, in different men. I don't think I have had heart +enough to brush my hair for the last fifty years. She was a magnificent +woman, Mr. Moody, and she dropped me like a hot potato. Dreadful! +dreadful! Let us pursue this painful subject no further. Ha! here's a +pretty country! Here's a nice blue sky! I admire the country, miss; I +see so little of it, you know. Have you any objection to walk along into +the fields? The fields, my dear, bring out all the poetry of my nature. +Where's the dog? Here, Puggy! Puggy! hunt about, my man, and find some +dog-grass. Does his inside good, you know, after a meat diet in London. +Lord! how I feel my spirits rising in this fine air! Does my complexion +look any brighter, miss? Will you run a race with me, Mr. Moody, or will +you oblige me with a back at leap-frog? I'm not mad, my dear young lady; +I'm only merry. I live, you see, in the London stink; and the smell of +the hedges and the wild flowers is too much for me at first. It gets +into my head, it does. I'm drunk! As I live by bread, I'm drunk on fresh +air! Oh! what a jolly day! Oh! how young and innocent I do feel!" Here +his innocence got the better of him, and he began to sing, "I wish I +were a little fly, in my love's bosom for to lie!" "Hullo! here we are +on the nice soft grass! and, oh, my gracious! there's a bank running +down into a hollow! I can't stand that, you know. Mr. Moody, hold my +hat, and take the greatest care of it. Here goes for a roll down the +bank!" + +He handed his horrible hat to the astonished Moody, laid himself flat +on the top of the bank, and deliberately rolled down it, exactly as he +might have done when he was a boy. The tails of his long gray coat flew +madly in the wind: the dog pursued him, jumping over him, and barking +with delight; he shouted and screamed in answer to the dog as he rolled +over and over faster and faster; and, when he got up, on the level +ground, and called out cheerfully to his companions standing above him, +"I say, you two, I feel twenty years younger already!"--human gravity +could hold out no longer. The sad and silent Moody smiled, and Isabel +burst into fits of laughter. + +"There," he said "didn't I tell you you would get used to me, Miss? +There's a deal of life left in the old man yet--isn't there? Shy me down +my hat, Mr. Moody. And now we'll get to business!" He turned round to +the dog still barking at his heels. "Business, Puggy!" he called out +sharply, and Puggy instantly shut up his mouth, and said no more. + +"Well, now," Old Sharon resumed when he had joined his friends and had +got his breath again, "let's have a little talk about yourself, miss. +Has Mr. Moody told you who I am, and what I want with you? Very good. +May I offer you my arm? No! You like to be independent, don't you? All +right--I don't object. I am an amiable old man, I am. About this Lady +Lydiard, now? Suppose you tell me how you first got acquainted with +her?" + +In some surprise at this question, Isabel told her little story. +Observing Sharon's face while she was speaking, Moody saw that he was +not paying the smallest attention to the narrative. His sharp, shameless +black eyes watched the girl's face absently; his gross lips curled +upwards in a sardonic and self-satisfied smile. He was evidently setting +a trap for her of some kind. Without a word of warning--while Isabel was +in the middle of a sentence--the trap opened, with the opening of Old +Sharon's lips. + +"I say," he burst out. "How came _you_ to seal her Ladyship's +letter--eh?" + +The question bore no sort of relation, direct or indirect, to what +Isabel happened to be saying at the moment. In the sudden surprise of +hearing it, she started and fixed her eyes in astonishment on Sharon's +face. The old vagabond chuckled to himself. "Did you see that?" he +whispered to Moody. "I beg your pardon, miss," he went on; "I won't +interrupt you again. Lord! how interesting it is!--ain't it, Mr. Moody? +Please to go on, miss." + +But Isabel, though she spoke with perfect sweetness and temper, declined +to go on. "I had better tell you, sir, how I came to seal her Ladyship's +letter," she said. "If I may venture on giving my opinion, _that_ +part of my story seems to be the only part of it which relates to your +business with me to-day." + +Without further preface she described the circumstances which had led +to her assuming the perilous responsibility of sealing the letter. Old +Sharon's wandering attention began to wander again: he was evidently +occupied in setting another trap. For the second time he interrupted +Isabel in the middle of a sentence. Suddenly stopping short, he pointed +to some sheep, at the further end of the field through which they +happened to be passing at the moment. + +"There's a pretty sight," he said. "There are the innocent sheep +a-feeding--all following each other as usual. And there's the sly dog +waiting behind the gate till the sheep wants his services. Reminds me +of Old Sharon and the public!" He chuckled over the discovery of the +remarkable similarity between the sheep-dog and himself, and the sheep +and the public--and then burst upon Isabel with a second question. "I +say! didn't you look at the letter before you sealed it?" + +"Certainly not!" Isabel answered. + +"Not even at the address?" + +"No!" + +"Thinking of something else--eh?" + +"Very likely," said Isabel. + +"Was it your new bonnet, my dear?" + +Isabel laughed. "Women are not always thinking of their new bonnets," +she answered. + +Old Sharon, to all appearance, dropped the subject there. He lifted his +lean brown forefinger and pointed again--this time to a house at a short +distance from them. "That's a farmhouse, surely?" he said. "I'm thirsty +after my roll down the hill. Do you think, Miss, they would give me a +drink of milk?" + +"I am sure they would," said Isabel. "I know the people. Shall I go and +ask them?" + +"Thank you, my dear. One word more before you go. About the sealing of +that letter? What _could_ you have been thinking of while you were doing +it?" He looked hard at her, and took her suddenly by the arm. "Was it +your sweetheart?" he asked, in a whisper. + +The question instantly reminded Isabel that she had been thinking of +Hardyman while she sealed the letter. She blushed as the remembrance +crossed her mind. Robert, noticing the embarrassment, spoke sharply to +Old Sharon. "You have no right to put such a question to a young lady," +he said. "Be a little more careful for the future." + +"There! there! don't be hard on me," pleaded the old rogue. "An ugly old +man like me may make his innocent little joke--eh, miss? I'm sure you're +too sweet-tempered to be angry when I meant no offense.. Show me that +you bear no malice. Go, like a forgiving young angel, and ask for the +milk." + +Nobody appealed to Isabel's sweetness of temper in vain. "I will do it +with pleasure," she said--and hastened away to the farmhouse. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE instant Isabel was out of hearing, Old Sharon slapped Moody on the +shoulder to rouse his attention. "I've got her out of the way," he said, +"now listen to me. My business with the young angel is done--I may go +back to London." + +Moody looked at him with astonishment. + +"Lord! how little you know of thieves!" exclaimed Old Sharon. "Why, man +alive, I have tried her with two plain tests! If you wanted a proof of +her innocence, there it was, as plain as the nose in your face. Did you +hear me ask her how she came to seal the letter--just when her mind was +running on something else?" + +"I heard you," said Moody. + +"Did you see how she started and stared at me?" + +"I did." + +"Well, I can tell you this--if she _had_ stolen the money she would +neither have started nor stared. She would have had her answer ready +beforehand in her own mind, in case of accidents. There's only one +thing in my experience that you can never do with a thief, when a thief +happens to be a woman--you can never take her by surprise. Put that +remark by in your mind; one day you may find a use for remembering it. +Did you see her blush, and look quite hurt in her feelings, pretty dear, +when I asked about her sweetheart? Do you think a thief, in her place, +would have shown such a face as that? Not she! The thief would have been +relieved. The thief would have said to herself, 'All right! the more +the old fool talks about sweethearts the further he is from tracing the +robbery to Me!' Yes! yes! the ground's cleared now, Master Moody. I've +reckoned up the servants; I've questioned Miss Isabel; I've made my +inquiries in all the other quarters that may be useful to us--and what's +the result? The advice I gave, when you and the lawyer first came to +me--I hate that fellow!--remains as sound and good advice as ever. I +have got the thief in my mind," said Old Sharon, closing his cunning +eyes and then opening them again, "as plain as I've got you in my eye at +this minute. No more of that now," he went on, looking round sharply at +the path that led to the farmhouse. "I've something particular to say to +you--and there's barely time to say it before that nice girl comes back. +Look here! Do you happen to be acquainted with Mr.-Honorable-Hardyman's +valet?" + +Moody's eyes rested on Old Sharon with a searching and doubtful look. + +"Mr. Hardyman's valet?" he repeated. "I wasn't prepared to hear Mr. +Hardyman's name." + +Old Sharon looked at Moody, in his turn, with a flash of sardonic +triumph. + +"Oho!" he said. "Has my good boy learned his lesson? Do you see the +thief through my spectacles, already?" + +"I began to see him," Moody answered, "when you gave us the guinea +opinion at your lodgings." + +"Will you whisper his name?" asked Old Sharon. + +"Not yet. I distrust my own judgment. I wait till time proves that you +are right." + +Old Sharon knitted his shaggy brows and shook his head. "If you had +only a little more dash and go in you," he said, "you would be a clever +fellow. As it is--!" He finished the sentence by snapping his fingers +with a grin of contempt. "Let's get to business. Are you going back by +the next train along with me? or are you going to stop with the young +lady?" + +"I will follow you by a later train," Moody answered. + +"Then I must give you my instructions at once," Sharon continued. "You +get better acquainted with Hardyman's valet. Lend him money if he wants +it--stick at nothing to make a bosom friend of him. I can't do that part +of it; my appearance would be against me. _You_ are the man--you are +respectable from the top of your hat to the tips of your boots; nobody +would suspect You. Don't make objections! Can you fix the valet? Or +can't you?" + +"I can try," said Moody. "And what then?" + +Old Sharon put his gross lips disagreeably close to Moody's ear. + +"Your friend the valet can tell you who his master's bankers are," +he said; "and he can supply you with a specimen of his master's +handwriting." + +Moody drew back, as suddenly as if his vagabond companion had put a +knife to his throat. "You old villain!" he said. "Are you tempting me to +forgery?" + +"You infernal fool!" retorted Old Sharon. "_Will_ you hold that long +tongue of yours, and hear what I have to say. You go to Hardyman's +bankers, with a note in Hardyman's handwriting (exactly imitated by me) +to this effect:--'Mr. H. presents his compliments to Messrs. So-and-So, +and is not quite certain whether a payment of five hundred pounds has +been made within the last week to his account. He will be much obliged +if Messrs. So-and-So will inform him by a line in reply, whether there +is such an entry to his credit in their books, and by whom the payment +has been made.' You wait for the bankers' answer, and bring it to me. +It's just possible that the name you're afraid to whisper may appear +in the letter. If it does, we've caught our man. Is _that_ forgery, Mr. +Muddlehead Moody? I'll tell you what--if I had lived to be your age, and +knew no more of the world than you do, I'd go and hang myself. Steady! +here's our charming friend with the milk. Remember your instructions, +and don't lose heart if my notion of the payment to the bankers comes +to nothing. I know what to do next, in that case--and, what's more, I'll +take all the risk and trouble on my own shoulders. Oh, Lord! I'm afraid +I shall be obliged to drink the milk, now it's come!" + +With this apprehension in his mind, he advanced to relieve Isabel of the +jug that she carried. + +"Here's a treat!" he burst out, with an affectation of joy, which was +completely belied by the expression of his dirty face. "Here's a kind +and dear young lady, to help an old man to a drink with her own pretty +hands." He paused, and looked at the milk very much as he might have +looked at a dose of physic. "Will anyone take a drink first?" he asked, +offering the jug piteously to Isabel and Moody. "You see, I'm not wed to +genuine milk; I'm used to chalk and water. I don't know what effect the +unadulterated cow might have on my poor old inside." He tasted the milk +with the greatest caution. "Upon my soul, this is too rich for me! The +unadulterated cow is a deal too strong to be drunk alone. If you'll +allow me I'll qualify it with a drop of gin. Here, Puggy, Puggy!" He +set the milk down before the dog; and, taking a flask out of his pocket, +emptied it at a draught. "That's something like!" he said, smacking his +lips with an air of infinite relief. "So sorry, Miss, to have given you +all your trouble for nothing; it's my ignorance that's to blame, not me. +I couldn't know I was unworthy of genuine milk till I tried--could I? +And do you know," he proceeded, with his eyes directed slyly on the way +back to the station, "I begin to think I'm not worthy of the fresh air, +either. A kind of longing seems to come over me for the London stink. +I'm home-sick already for the soot of my happy childhood and my own dear +native mud. The air here is too thin for me, and the sky's too clean; +and--oh, Lord!--when you're wed to the roar of the traffic--the 'busses +and the cabs and what not--the silence in these parts is downright +awful. I'll wish you good evening, miss; and get back to London." + +Isabel turned to Moody with disappointment plainly expressed in her face +and manner. + +"Is that all he has to say?" she asked. "You told me he could help us. +You led me to suppose he could find the guilty person." + +Sharon heard her. "I could name the guilty person," he answered, "as +easily, miss, as I could name you." + +"Why don't you do it then?" Isabel inquired, not very patiently + +"Because the time's not ripe for it yet, miss--that's one reason. +Because, if I mentioned the thief's name, as things are now, you, Miss +Isabel, would think me mad; and you would tell Mr. Moody I had cheated +him out of his money--that's another reason. The matter's in train, if +you will only wait a little longer." + +"So you say," Isabel rejoined. "If you really could name the thief, I +believe you would do it now." + +She turned away with a frown on her pretty face. Old Sharon followed +her. Even his coarse sensibilities appeared to feel the irresistible +ascendancy of beauty and youth. + +"I say!" he began, "we must part friends, you know--or I shall break my +heart over it. They have got milk at the farmhouse. Do you think they +have got pen, ink, and paper too?" + +Isabel answered, without turning to look at him, "Of course they have!" + +"And a bit of sealing-wax?" + +"I daresay!" + +Old Sharon laid his dirty claws on her shoulder and forced her to face +him as the best means of shaking them off. + +"Come along!" he said. "I am going to pacify you with some information +in writing." + +"Why should you write it?" Isabel asked suspiciously. + +"Because I mean to make my own conditions, my dear, before I let you +into the secret." + +In ten minutes more they were all three in the farmhouse parlor. Nobody +but the farmer's wife was at home. The good woman trembled from head to +foot at the sight of Old Sharon. In all her harmless life she had never +yet seen humanity under the aspect in which it was now presented to her. +"Mercy preserve us, Miss!" she whispered to Isabel, "how come you to +be in such company as _that?_" Instructed by Isabel, she produced the +necessary materials for writing and sealing--and, that done, she shrank +away to the door. "Please to excuse me, miss," she said with a last +horrified look at her venerable visitor; "I really can't stand the sight +of such a blot of dirt as that in my nice clean parlor." With those +words she disappeared, and was seen no more. + +Perfectly indifferent to his reception, Old Sharon wrote, inclosed what +he had written in an envelope; and sealed it (in the absence of anything +better fitted for his purpose) with the mouthpiece of his pipe. + +"Now, miss," he said, "you give me your word of honor,"--he stopped and +looked round at Moody with a grin--"and you give me yours, that you +won't either of you break the seal on this envelope till the expiration +of one week from the present day. There are the conditions, Miss Isabel, +on which I'll give you your information. If you stop to dispute with me, +the candle's alight, and I'll burn it!" + +It was useless to contend with him. Isabel and Moody gave him the +promise that he required. He handed the sealed envelope to Isabel with +a low bow. "When the week's out," he said, "you will own I'm a cleverer +fellow than you think me now. Wish you good evening, Miss. Come along, +Puggy! Farewell to the horrid clean country, and back again to the nice +London stink!" + +He nodded to Moody--he leered at Isabel--he chuckled to himself--he left +the farmhouse. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +ISABEL looked down at the letter in her hand--considered it in +silence--and turned to Moody. "I feel tempted to open it already," she +said. + +"After giving your promise?" Moody gently remonstrated. + +Isabel met that objection with a woman's logic. + +"Does a promise matter?" she asked, "when one gives it to a dirty, +disreputable, presuming old wretch like Mr. Sharon? It's a wonder to me +that you trust such a creature. _I_ wouldn't!" + +"I doubted him just as you do," Moody answered, "when I first saw him in +company with Mr. Troy. But there was something in the advice he gave +us at that first consultation which altered my opinion of him for the +better. I dislike his appearance and his manners as much as you do--I +may even say I felt ashamed of bringing such a person to see you. And +yet I can't think that I have acted unwisely in employing Mr. Sharon." + +Isabel listened absently. She had something more to say, and she was +considering how she should say it. "May I ask you a bold question?" she +began. + +"Any question you like." + +"Have you--" she hesitated and looked embarrassed. "Have you paid Mr. +Sharon much money?" she resumed, suddenly rallying her courage. Instead +of answering, Moody suggested that it was time to think of returning +to Miss Pink's villa. "Your aunt may be getting anxious about you." he +said. + +Isabel led the way out of the farmhouse in silence. She reverted to Mr. +Sharon and the money, however, as they returned by the path across the +fields. + +"I am sure you will not be offended with me," she said gently, "if I own +that I am uneasy about the expense. I am allowing you to use your purse +as if it was mine--and I have hardly any savings of my own." + +Moody entreated her not to speak of it. "How can I put my money to a +better use than in serving your interests?" he asked. "My one object +in life is to relieve you of your present anxieties. I shall be +the happiest man living if you only owe a moment's happiness to my +exertions!" + +Isabel took his hand, and looked at him with grateful tears in her eyes. + +"How good you are to me, Mr. Moody!" she said. "I wish I could tell you +how deeply I feel your kindness." + +"You can do it easily," he answered, with a smile. "Call me +'Robert'--don't call me 'Mr. Moody.'" + +She took his arm with a sudden familiarity that charmed him. "If you had +been my brother I should have called you 'Robert,'" she said; "and no +brother could have been more devoted to me than you are." + +He looked eagerly at her bright face turned up to his. "May I never +hope to be something nearer and dearer to you than a brother?" he asked +timidly. + +She hung her head and said nothing. Moody's memory recalled Sharon's +coarse reference to her "sweetheart." She had blushed when he put the +question? What had she done when Moody put _his_ question? Her face +answered for her--she had turned pale; she was looking more serious than +usual. Ignorant as he was of the ways of women, his instinct told him +that this was a bad sign. Surely her rising color would have confessed +it, if time and gratitude together were teaching her to love him? He +sighed as the inevitable conclusion forced itself on his mind. + +"I hope I have not offended you?" he said sadly. + +"Oh, no." + +"I wish I had not spoken. Pray don't think that I am serving you with +any selfish motive." + +"I don't think that, Robert. I never could think it of _you_." + +He was not quite satisfied yet. "Even if you were to marry some other +man," he went on earnestly, "it would make no difference in what I am +trying to do for you. No matter what I might suffer, I should still go +on--for your sake." + +"Why do you talk so?" she burst out passionately. "No other man has such +a claim as you to my gratitude and regard. How can you let such thoughts +come to you? I have done nothing in secret. I have no friends who are +not known to you. Be satisfied with that, Robert--and let us drop the +subject." + +"Never to take it up again?" he asked, with the infatuated pertinacity +of a man clinging to his last hope. + +At other times and under other circumstances, Isabel might have answered +him sharply. She spoke with perfect gentleness now. + +"Not for the present," she said. "I don't know my own heart. Give me +time." + +His gratitude caught at those words, as the drowning man is said to +catch at the proverbial straw. He lifted her hand, and suddenly and +fondly pressed his lips on it. She showed no confusion. Was she sorry +for him, poor wretch!--and was that all? + +They walked on, arm-in-arm, in silence. + +Crossing the last field, they entered again on the high road leading +to the row of villas in which Miss Pink lived. The minds of both +were preoccupied. Neither of them noticed a gentleman approaching on +horseback, followed by a mounted groom. He was advancing slowly, at the +walking-pace of his horse, and he only observed the two foot-passengers +when he was close to them. + +"Miss Isabel!" + +She started, looked up, and discovered--Alfred Hardyman. + +He was dressed in a perfectly-made travelling suit of light brown, +with a peaked felt hat of a darker shade of the same color, which, in +a picturesque sense, greatly improved his personal appearance. His +pleasure at discovering Isabel gave the animation to his features which +they wanted on ordinary occasions. He sat his horse, a superb hunter, +easily and gracefully. His light amber-colored gloves fitted him +perfectly. His obedient servant, on another magnificent horse, waited +behind him. He looked the impersonation of rank and breeding--of wealth +and prosperity. What a contrast, in a woman's eyes, to the shy, pale, +melancholy man, in the ill-fitting black clothes, with the wandering, +uneasy glances, who stood beneath him, and felt, and showed that he +felt, his inferior position keenly! In spite of herself, the treacherous +blush flew over Isabel's face, in Moody's presence, and with Moody's +eyes distrustfully watching her. + +"This is a piece of good fortune that I hardly hoped for," said +Hardyman, his cool, quiet, dreary way of speaking quickened as usual, +in Isabel's presence. "I only got back from France this morning, and +I called on Lady Lydiard in the hope of seeing you. She was not at +home--and you were in the country--and the servants didn't know the +address. I could get nothing out of them, except that you were on a +visit to a relation." He looked at Moody while he was speaking. "Haven't +I seen you before?" he said, carelessly. "Yes; at Lady Lydiard's. You're +her steward, are you not? How d'ye do?" Moody, with his eyes on the +ground, answered silently by a bow. Hardyman, perfectly indifferent +whether Lady Lydiard's steward spoke or not, turned on his saddle and +looked admiringly at Isabel. "I begin to think I am a lucky man at +last," he went on with a smile. "I was jogging along to my farm, and +despairing of ever seeing Miss Isabel again--and Miss Isabel herself +meets me at the roadside! I wonder whether you are as glad to see me as +I am to see you? You won't tell me--eh? May I ask you something else? +Are you staying in our neighborhood?" + +There was no alternative before Isabel but to answer this last question. +Hardyman had met her out walking, and had no doubt drawn the inevitable +inference--although he was too polite to say so in plain words. + +"Yes, sir," she answered, shyly, "I am staying in this neighborhood." + +"And who is your relation?" Hardyman proceeded, in his easy, +matter-of-course way. "Lady Lydiard told me, when I had the pleasure of +meeting you at her house, that you had an aunt living in the country. +I have a good memory, Miss Isabel, for anything that I hear about You! +It's your aunt, isn't it? Yes? I know everybody about hew. What is your +aunt's name?" + +Isabel, still resting her hand on Robert's arm, felt it tremble a little +as Hardyman made this last inquiry. If she had been speaking to one of +her equals she would have known how to dispose of the question without +directly answering it. But what could she say to the magnificent +gentleman on the stately horse? He had only to send his servant into the +village to ask who the young lady from London was staying with, and the +answer, in a dozen mouths at least, would direct him to her aunt. She +cast one appealing look at Moody and pronounced the distinguished name +of Miss Pink. + +"Miss Pink?" Hardyman repeated. "Surely I know Miss Pink?" (He had not +the faintest remembrances of her.) "Where did I meet her last?" (He ran +over in his memory the different local festivals at which strangers +had been introduced to him.) "Was it at the archery meeting? or at the +grammar-school when the prizes were given? No? It must have been at the +flower show, then, surely?" + +It _had_ been at the flower show. Isabel had heard it from Miss Pink +fifty times at least, and was obliged to admit it now. + +"I am quite ashamed of never having called," Hardyman proceeded. "The +fact is, I have so much to do. I am a bad one at paying visits. Are you +on your way home? Let me follow you and make my apologies personally to +Miss Pink." + +Moody looked at Isabel. It was only a momentary glance, but she +perfectly understood it. + +"I am afraid, sir, my aunt cannot have the honor of seeing you to-day," +she said. + +Hardyman was all compliance. He smiled and patted his horse's neck. +"To-morrow, then," he said. "My compliments, and I will call in the +afternoon. Let me see: Miss Pink lives at--?" He waited, as if he +expected Isabel to assist his treacherous memory once more. She +hesitated again. Hardyman looked round at his groom. The groom could +find out the address, even if he did not happen to know it already. +Besides, there was the little row of houses visible at the further end +of the road. Isabel pointed to the villas, as a necessary concession +to good manners, before the groom could anticipate her. "My aunt lives +there, sir; at the house called The Lawn." + +"Ah! to be sure!" said Hardyman. "I oughtn't to have wanted reminding; +but I have so many things to think of at the farm. And I am afraid I +must be getting old--my memory isn't as good as it was. I am so glad to +have seen you, Miss Isabel. You and your aunt must come and look at my +horses. Do you like horses? Are you fond of riding? I have a quiet roan +mare that is used to carrying ladies; she would be just the thing for +you. Did I beg you to give my best compliments to your aunt? Yes? How +well you are looking! our air here agrees with you. I hope I haven't +kept you standing too long? I didn't think of it in the pleasure of +meeting you. Good-by, Miss Isabel; good-by, till to-morrow!" + +He took off his hat to Isabel, nodded to Moody, and pursued his way to +the farm. + +Isabel looked at her companion. His eyes were still on the ground. Pale, +silent, motionless, he waited by her like a dog, until she gave the +signal of walking on again towards the house. + +"You are not angry with me for speaking to Mr. Hardyman?" she asked, +anxiously. + +He lifted his head it the sound of her voice. "Angry with you, my dear! +why should I be angry?" + +"You seem so changed, Robert, since we met Mr. Hardyman. I couldn't help +speaking to him--could I?" + +"Certainly not." + +They moved on towards the villa. Isabel was still uneasy. There was +something in Moody's silent submission to all that she said and all that +she did which pained and humiliated her. "You're not jealous?" she said, +smiling timidly. + +He tried to speak lightly on his side. "I have no time to be jealous +while I have your affairs to look after," he answered. + +She pressed his arm tenderly. "Never fear, Robert, that new friends will +make me forget the best and dearest friend who is now at my side." She +paused, and looked up at him with a compassionate fondness that was very +pretty to see. "I can keep out of the way to-morrow, when Mr. Hardyman +calls," she said. "It is my aunt he is coming to see--not me." + +It was generously meant. But while her mind was only occupied with the +present time, Moody's mind was looking into the future. He was learning +the hard lesson of self-sacrifice already. "Do what you think is right," +he said quietly; "don't think of me." + +They reached the gate of the villa. He held out his hand to say good-by. + +"Won't you come in?" she asked. "Do come in!" + +"Not now, my dear. I must get back to London as soon as I can. There is +some more work to be done for you, and the sooner I do it the better." + +She heard his excuse without heeding it. + +"You are not like yourself, Robert," she said. "Why is it? What are you +thinking of?" + +He was thinking of the bright blush that overspread her face when +Hardyman first spoke to her; he was thinking of the invitation to her +to see the stud-farm, and to ride the roan mare; he was thinking of the +utterly powerless position in which he stood towards Isabel and towards +the highly-born gentleman who admired her. But he kept his doubts and +fears to himself. "The train won't wait for me," he said, and held out +his hand once more. + +She was not only perplexed; she was really distressed. "Don't take leave +of me in that cold way!" she pleaded. Her eyes dropped before his, and +her lips trembled a little. "Give me a kiss, Robert, at parting." She +said those bold words softly and sadly, out of the depth of her pity +for him. He started; his face brightened suddenly; his sinking hope +rose again. In another moment the change came; in another moment he +understood her. As he touched her cheek with his lips, he turned pale +again. "Don't quite forget me," he said, in low, faltering tones--and +left her. + +Miss Pink met Isabel in the hall. Refreshed by unbroken repose, the +ex-schoolmistress was in the happiest frame of mind for the reception of +her niece's news. + +Informed that Moody had travelled to South Morden to personally report +the progress of the inquiries, Miss Pink highly approved of him as a +substitute for Mr. Troy. "Mr. Moody, as a banker's son, is a gentleman +by birth," she remarked; "he has condescended, in becoming Lady +Lydiard's steward. What I saw of him, when he came here with you, +prepossessed me in his favor. He has my confidence, Isabel, as well as +yours--he is in every respect a superior person to Mr. Troy. Did you +meet any friends, my dear, when you were out walking?" + +The answer to this question produced a species of transformation in Miss +Pink. The rapturous rank-worship of her nation feasted, so to speak, on +Hardyman's message. She looked taller and younger than usual--she was +all smiles and sweetness. "At last, Isabel, you have seen birth and +breeding under their right aspect," she said. "In the society of Lady +Lydiard, you cannot possibly have formed correct ideas of the English +aristocracy. Observe Mr. Hardyman when he does me the honor to call +to-morrow--and you will see the difference." + +"Mr. Hardyman is your visitor, aunt--not mine. I was going to ask you to +let me remain upstairs in my room." + +Miss Pink was unaffectedly shocked. "This is what you learn at Lady +Lydiard's!" she observed. "No, Isabel, your absence would be a breach +of good manners--I cannot possibly permit it. You will be present to +receive our distinguished friend with me. And mind this!" added Miss +Pink, in her most impressive manner, "If Mr. Hardyman should by any +chance ask why you have left Lady Lydiard, not one word about those +disgraceful circumstances which connect you with the loss of the +banknote! I should sink into the earth if the smallest hint of what +has really happened should reach Mr. Hardyman's ears. My child, I stand +towards you in the place of your lamented mother; I have the right to +command your silence on this horrible subject, and I do imperatively +command it." + +In these words foolish Miss Pink sowed the seed for the harvest of +trouble that was soon to come. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +PAYING his court to the ex-schoolmistress on the next day, Hardyman made +such excellent use of his opportunities that the visit to the stud-farm +took place on the day after. His own carriage was placed at the disposal +of Isabel and her aunt; and his own sister was present to confer special +distinction on the reception of Miss Pink. + +In a country like England, which annually suspends the sitting of its +Legislature in honor of a horse-race, it is only natural and proper that +the comfort of the horses should be the first object of consideration at +a stud-farm. Nine-tenths of the land at Hardyman's farm was devoted, in +one way or another, to the noble quadruped with the low forehead and the +long nose. Poor humanity was satisfied with second-rate and third-rate +accommodation. The ornamental grounds, very poorly laid out, were also +very limited in extent--and, as for the dwelling-house, it was literally +a cottage. A parlor and a kitchen, a smoking-room, a bed-room, and a +spare chamber for a friend, all scantily furnished, sufficed for the +modest wants of the owner of the property. If you wished to feast your +eyes on luxury you went to the stables. + +The stud-farm being described, the introduction to Hardyman's sister +follows in due course. + +The Honorable Lavinia Hardyman was, as all persons in society know, +married rather late in life to General Drumblade. It is saying a great +deal, but it is not saying too much, to describe Mrs. Drumblade as the +most mischievous woman of her age in all England. Scandal was the breath +of her life; to place people in false positions, to divulge secrets +and destroy characters, to undermine friendships, and aggravate +enmities--these were the sources of enjoyment from which this dangerous +woman drew the inexhaustible fund of good spirits that made her a +brilliant light in the social sphere. She was one of the privileged +sinners of modern society. The worst mischief that she could work was +ascribed to her "exuberant vitality." She had that ready familiarity of +manner which is (in _her_ class) so rarely discovered to be insolence in +disguise. Her power of easy self-assertion found people ready to accept +her on her own terms wherever she went. She was one of those big, +overpowering women, with blunt manners, voluble tongues, and goggle +eyes, who carry everything before them. The highest society modestly +considered itself in danger of being dull in the absence of Mrs. +Drumblade. Even Hardyman himself--who saw as little of her as possible, +whose frankly straightforward nature recoiled by instinct from contact +with his sister--could think of no fitter person to make Miss Pink's +reception agreeable to her, while he was devoting his own attentions to +her niece. Mrs. Drumblade accepted the position thus offered with +the most amiable readiness. In her own private mind she placed an +interpretation on her brother's motives which did him the grossest +injustice. She believed that Hardyman's designs on Isabel contemplated +the most profligate result. To assist this purpose, while the girl's +nearest relative was supposed to be taking care of her, was Mrs. +Drumblade's idea of "fun." Her worst enemies admitted that the honorable +Lavinia had redeeming qualities, and owned that a keen sense of humor was +one of her merits. + +Was Miss Pink a likely person to resist the fascinations of Mrs. +Drumblade? Alas, for the ex-schoolmistress! before she had been five +minutes at the farm, Hardyman's sister had fished for her, caught her, +landed her. Poor Miss Pink! + +Mrs. Drumblade could assume a grave dignity of manner when the occasion +called for it. She was grave, she was dignified, when Hardyman performed +the ceremonies of introduction. She would not say she was charmed to +meet Miss Pink--the ordinary slang of society was not for Miss Pink's +ears--she would say she felt this introduction as a privilege. It was +so seldom one met with persons of trained intellect in society. Mrs. +Drumblade was already informed of Miss Pink's earlier triumphs in the +instruction of youth. Mrs. Drumblade had not been blessed with children +herself; but she had nephews and nieces, and she was anxious about their +education, especially the nieces. What a sweet, modest girl Miss Isabel +was! The fondest wish she could form for her nieces would be that they +should resemble Miss Isabel when they grew up. The question was, as to +the best method of education. She would own that she had selfish motives +in becoming acquainted with Miss Pink. They were at the farm, no doubt, +to see Alfred's horses. Mrs. Drumblade did not understand horses; her +interest was in the question of education. She might even confess that +she had accepted Alfred's invitation in the hope of hearing Miss +Pink's views. There would be opportunities, she trusted, for a little +instructive conversation on that subject. It was, perhaps, ridiculous to +talk, at her age, of feeling as if she was Miss Pink's pupil; and yet +it exactly expressed the nature of the aspiration which was then in her +mind. + +In these terms, feeling her way with the utmost nicety, Mrs. Drumblade +wound the net of flattery round and round Miss Pink until her hold on +that innocent lady was, in every sense of the word, secure. Before half +the horses had been passed under review, Hardyman and Isabel were out of +sight, and Mrs. Drumblade and Miss Pink were lost in the intricacies +of the stables. "Excessively stupid of me! We had better go back, and +establish ourselves comfortably in the parlor. When my brother misses +us, he and your charming niece will return to look for us in the +cottage." Under cover of this arrangement the separation became +complete. Miss Pink held forth on education to Mrs. Drumblade in the +parlor; while Hardyman and Isabel were on their way to a paddock at the +farthest limits of the property. + +"I am afraid you are getting a little tired," said Hardyman. "Won't you +take my arm?" + +Isabel was on her guard: she had not forgotten what Lady Lydiard had +said to her. "No, thank you, Mr. Hardyman; I am a better walker than you +think." + +Hardyman continued the conversation in his blunt, resolute way. "I +wonder whether you will believe me," he asked, "if I tell you that this +is one of the happiest days of my life." + +"I should think you were always happy," Isabel cautiously replied, +"having such a pretty place to live in as this." + +Hardyman met that answer with one of his quietly-positive denials. "A +man is never happy by himself," he said. "He is happy with a companion. +For instance, I am happy with you." + +Isabel stopped and looked back. Hardyman's language was becoming a +little too explicit. "Surely we have lost Mrs. Drumblade and my aunt," +she said. "I don't see them anywhere." + +"You will see them directly; they are only a long way behind." With this +assurance, he returned, in his own obstinate way, to his one object in +view. "Miss Isabel, I want to ask you a question. I'm not a ladies' man. +I speak my mind plainly to everybody--women included. Do you like being +here to-day?" + +Isabel's gravity was not proof against this very downright question. +"I should be hard to please," she said laughing, "if I didn't enjoy my +visit to the farm." + +Hardyman pushed steadily forward through the obstacle of the farm to +the question of the farm's master. "You like being here," he repeated. +"Do you like Me?" + +This was serious. Isabel drew back a little, and looked at him. He +waited with the most impenetrable gravity for her reply. + +"I think you can hardly expect me to answer that question," she said + +"Why not?" + +"Our acquaintance has been a very short one, Mr. Hardyman. And, if _you_ +are so good as to forget the difference between us, I think _I_ ought to +remember it." + +"What difference?" + +"The difference in rank." + +Hardyman suddenly stood still, and emphasized his next words by digging +his stick into the grass. + +"If anything I have said has vexed you," he began, "tell me so plainly, +Miss Isabel, and I'll ask your pardon. But don't throw my rank in my +face. I cut adrift from all that nonsense when I took this farm and got +my living out of the horses. What has a man's rank to do with a man's +feelings?" he went on, with another emphatic dig of his stick. "I am +quite serious in asking if you like me--for this good reason, that I +like you. Yes, I do. You remember that day when I bled the old +lady's dog--well, I have found out since then that there's a sort of +incompleteness in my life which I never suspected before. It's you who +have put that idea into my head. You didn't mean it, I dare say, but you +have done it all the same. I sat alone here yesterday evening smoking +my pipe--and I didn't enjoy it. I breakfasted alone this morning--and I +didn't enjoy _that_. I said to myself, She's coming to lunch, that's one +comfort--I shall enjoy lunch. That's what I feel, roughly described. I +don't suppose I've been five minutes together without thinking of you, +now in one way and now in another, since the day when I first saw you. +When a man comes to my time of life, and has had any experience, he +knows what that means. It means, in plain English, that his heart is set +on a woman. You're the woman." + +Isabel had thus far made several attempts to interrupt him, without +success. But, when Hardyman's confession attained its culminating point, +she insisted on being heard. + +"If you will excuse me, sir," she interposed gravely, "I think I had +better go back to the cottage. My aunt is a stranger here, and she +doesn't know where to look for us." + +"We don't want your aunt," Hardyman remarked, in his most positive +manner. + +"We do want her," Isabel rejoined. "I won't venture to say it's wrong in +you, Mr. Hardyman, to talk to me as you have just done, but I am quite +sure it's very wrong of me to listen." + +He looked at her with such unaffected surprise and distress that she +stopped, on the point of leaving him, and tried to make herself better +understood. + +"I had no intention of offending you, sir," she said, a little +confusedly. "I only wanted to remind you that there are some things +which a gentleman in your position--" She stopped, tried to finish the +sentence, failed, and began another. "If I had been a young lady in your +own rank of life," she went on, "I might have thanked you for paying me +a compliment, and have given you a serious answer. As it is, I am afraid +that I must say that you have surprised and disappointed me. I can claim +very little for myself, I know. But I did imagine--so long as there +was nothing unbecoming in my conduct--that I had some right to your +respect." + +Listening more and more impatiently, Hardyman took her by the hand, and +burst out with another of his abrupt questions. + +"What can you possibly be thinking of?" he asked. + +She gave him no answer; she only looked at him reproachfully, and tried +to release herself. + +Hardyman held her hand faster than ever. + +"I believe you think me an infernal scoundrel!" he said. "I can stand a +good deal, Miss Isabel, but I can't stand _that_. How have I failed in +respect toward you, if you please? I have told you you're the woman my +heart is set on. Well? Isn't it plain what I want of you, when I say +that? Isabel Miller, I want you to be my wife!" + +Isabel's only reply to this extraordinary proposal of marriage was a +faint cry of astonishment, followed by a sudden trembling that shook her +from head to foot. + +Hardyman put his arm round her with a gentleness which his oldest friend +would have been surprised to see in him. + +"Take your time to think of it," he said, dropping back again into his +usual quiet tone. "If you had known me a little better you wouldn't have +mistaken me, and you wouldn't be looking at me now as if you were afraid +to believe your own ears. What is there so very wonderful in my wanting +to marry you? I don't set up for being a saint. When I was a younger man +I was no better (and no worse) than other young men. I'm getting on now +to middle life. I don't want romances and adventures--I want an easy +existence with a nice lovable woman who will make me a good wife. You're +the woman, I tell you again. I know it by what I've seen of you myself, +and by what I have heard of you from Lady Lydiard. She said you were +prudent, and sweet-tempered, and affectionate; to which I wish to add +that you have just the face and figure that I like, and the modest +manners and the blessed absence of all slang in your talk, which I don't +find in the young women I meet with in the present day. That's my view +of it: I think for myself. What does it matter to me whether you're the +daughter of a Duke or the daughter of a Dairyman? It isn't your father I +want to marry--it's you. Listen to reason, there's a dear! We have only +one question to settle before we go back to your aunt. You wouldn't +answer me when I asked it a little while since. Will you answer now? +_Do_ you like me?" + +Isabel looked up at him timidly. + +"In my position, sir," she asked, "have I any right to like you? What +would your relations and friends think, if I said Yes?" + +Hardyman gave her waist a little admonitory squeeze with his arm + +"What? You're at it again? A nice way to answer a man, to call him +'Sir,' and to get behind his rank as if it was a place of refuge from +him! I hate talking of myself, but you force me to it. Here is my +position in the world--I have got an elder brother; he is married, +and he has a son to succeed him, in the title and the property. You +understand, so far? Very well! Years ago I shifted my share of the rank +(whatever it may be) on to my brother's shoulders. He is a thorough good +fellow, and he has carried my dignity for me, without once dropping it, +ever since. As for what people may say, they have said it already, from +my father and mother downward, in the time when I took to the horses and +the farm. If they're the wise people I take them for, they won't be at +the trouble of saying it all over again. No, no. Twist it how you may, +Miss Isabel, whether I'm single or whether I'm married, I'm plain Alfred +Hardyman; and everybody who knows me knows that I go on my way, +and please myself. If you don't like me, it will be the bitterest +disappointment I ever had in my life; but say so honestly, all the +same." + +Where is the woman in Isabel's place whose capacity for resistance would +not have yielded a little to such an appeal as this? + +"I should be an insensible wretch," she replied warmly, "if I didn't feel +the honor you have done me, and feel it gratefully." + +"Does that mean you will have me for a husband?" asked downright +Hardyman. + +She was fairly driven into a corner; but (being a woman) she tried to +slip through his fingers at the last moment. + +"Will you forgive me," she said, "if I ask you for a little more time? I +am so bewildered, I hardly know what to say or do for the best. You see, +Mr. Hardyman, it would be a dreadful thing for me to be the cause of +giving offense to your family. I am obliged to think of that. It would +be so distressing for you (I will say nothing of myself) if your friends +closed their doors on me. They might say I was a designing girl, who had +taken advantage of your good opinion to raise herself in the world. Lady +Lydiard warned me long since not to be ambitious about myself and not +to forget my station in life, because she treated me like her adopted +daughter. Indeed--indeed, I can't tell you how I feel your goodness, and +the compliment--the very great compliment, you pay me! My heart is free, +and if I followed my own inclinations--" She checked herself, conscious +that she was on the brink of saying too much. "Will you give me a few +days," she pleaded, "to try if I can think composedly of all this? I +am only a girl, and I feel quite dazzled by the prospect that you set +before me." + +Hardyman seized on those words as offering all the encouragement that he +desired to his suit. + +"Have your own way in this thing and in everything!" he said, with an +unaccustomed fervor of language and manner. "I am so glad to hear that +your heart is open to me, and that all your inclinations take my part." + +Isabel instantly protested against this misrepresentation of what she +had really said, "Oh, Mr. Hardyman, you quite mistake me!" + +He answered her very much as he had answered Lady Lydiard, when she had +tried to make him understand his proper relations towards Isabel. + +"No, no; I don't mistake you. I agree to every word you say. How can I +expect you to marry me, as you very properly remark, unless I give you a +day or two to make up your mind? It's quite enough for me that you like +the prospect. If Lady Lydiard treated you as her daughter, why shouldn't +you be my wife? It stands to reason that you're quite right to marry a +man who can raise you in the world. I like you to be ambitious--though +Heaven knows it isn't much I can do for you, except to love you with all +my heart. Still, it's a great encouragement to hear that her Ladyship's +views agree with mine--" + +"They don't agree, Mr. Hardyman!" protested poor Isabel. "You are +entirely misrepresenting--" + +Hardyman cordially concurred in this view of the matter. "Yes! yes! I +can't pretend to represent her Ladyship's language, or yours either; I +am obliged to take my words as they come to me. Don't disturb yourself: +it's all right--I understand. You have made me the happiest man living. +I shall ride over to-morrow to your aunt's house, and hear what you have +to say to me. Mind you're at home! Not a day must pass now without my +seeing you. I do love you, Isabel--I do, indeed!" He stooped, and kissed +her heartily. "Only to reward me," he explained, "for giving you time to +think." + +She drew herself away from him--resolutely, not angrily. Before she +could make a third attempt to place the subject in its right light +before him, the luncheon bell rang at the cottage--and a servant +appeared evidently sent to look for them. + +"Don't forget to-morrow," Hardyman whispered confidentially. "I'll call +early--and then go to London, and get the ring." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +EVENTS succeeded each other rapidly, after the memorable day to Isabel +of the luncheon at the farm. + +On the next day (the ninth of the month) Lady Lydiard sent for her +steward, and requested him to explain his conduct in repeatedly leaving +the house without assigning any reason for his absence. She did not +dispute his claims to a freedom of action which would not be permitted +to an ordinary servant. Her objection to his present course of +proceeding related entirely to the mystery in which it was involved, and +to the uncertainty in which the household was left as to the hour of +his return. On those grounds, she thought herself entitled to an +explanation. Moody's habitual reserve--strengthened, on this occasion, +by his dread of ridicule, if his efforts to serve Isabel ended in +failure--disinclined him to take Lady Lydiard into his confidence, +while his inquiries were still beset with obstacles and doubts. He +respectfully entreated her Ladyship to grant him a delay of a few +weeks before he entered on his explanation. Lady Lydiard's quick temper +resented his request. She told Moody plainly that he was guilty of an +act of presumption in making his own conditions with his employer. He +received the reproof with exemplary resignation; but he held to his +conditions nevertheless. From that moment the result of the interview +was no longer in doubt. Moody was directed to send in his accounts. The +accounts having been examined, and found to be scrupulously correct, he +declined accepting the balance of salary that was offered to him. The +next day he left Lady Lydiard's service. + +On the tenth of the month her Ladyship received a letter from her +nephew. + +The health of Felix had not improved. He had made up his mind to go +abroad again towards the end of the month. In the meantime, he had +written to his friend in Paris, and he had the pleasure of forwarding an +answer. The letter inclosed announced that the lost five-hundred-pound +note had been made the subject of careful inquiry in Paris. It had not +been traced. The French police offered to send to London one of their +best men, well acquainted with the English language, if Lady Lydiard was +desirous of employing him. He would be perfectly willing to act with an +English officer in conducting the investigation, should it be thought +necessary. Mr. Troy being consulted as to the expediency of accepting +this proposal, objected to the pecuniary terms demanded as being +extravagantly high. He suggested waiting a little before any reply was +sent to Paris; and he engaged meanwhile to consult a London solicitor +who had great experience in cases of theft, and whose advice might +enable them to dispense entirely with the services of the French police. + +Being now a free man again, Moody was able to follow his own +inclinations in regard to the instructions which he had received from +Old Sharon. + +The course that had been recommended to him was repellent to the +self-respect and the sense of delicacy which were among the inbred +virtues of Moody's character. He shrank from forcing himself as a friend +on Hardyman's valet: he recoiled from the idea of tempting the man to +steal a specimen of his master's handwriting. After some consideration, +he decided on applying to the agent who collected the rents at +Hardyman's London chambers. Being an old acquaintance of Moody's, +this person would certainly not hesitate to communicate the address of +Hardyman's bankers, if he knew it. The experiment, tried under these +favoring circumstances, proved perfectly successful. Moody proceeded to +Sharon's lodgings the same day, with the address of the bankers in his +pocketbook. The old vagabond, greatly amused by Moody's scruples, +saw plainly enough that, so long as he wrote the supposed letter from +Hardyman in the third person, it mattered little what handwriting was +employed, seeing that no signature would be necessary. The letter was at +once composed, on the model which Sharon had already suggested to Moody, +and a respectable messenger (so far as outward appearances went) was +employed to take it to the bank. In half an hour the answer came back. +It added one more to the difficulties which beset the inquiry after the +lost money. No such sum as five hundred pounds had been paid, within the +dates mentioned, to the credit of Hardyman's account. + +Old Sharon was not in the least discomposed by this fresh check. "Give +my love to the dear young lady," he said with his customary impudence; +"and tell her we are one degree nearer to finding the thief." + +Moody looked at him, doubting whether he was in jest or in earnest. + +"Must I squeeze a little more information into that thick head of +yours?" asked Sharon. With this question he produced a weekly newspaper, +and pointed to a paragraph which reported, among the items of sporting +news, Hardyman's recent visit to a sale of horses at a town in the north +of France. "We know he didn't pay the bank-note in to his account," +Sharon remarked. "What else did he do with it? Took it to pay for the +horses that he bought in France! Do you see your way a little plainer +now? Very good. Let's try next if your money holds out. Somebody must +cross the Channel in search of the note. Which of us two is to sit in +the steam-boat with a white basin on his lap? Old Sharon, of course!" He +stopped to count the money still left, out of the sum deposited by Moody +to defray the cost of the inquiry. "All right!" he went on. "I've got +enough to pay my expenses there and back. Don't stir out of London till +you hear from me. I can't tell how soon I may not want you. If there's +any difficulty in tracing the note, your hand will have to go into your +pocket again. Can't you get the lawyer to join you? Lord! how I should +enjoy squandering _his_ money! It's a downright disgrace to me to have +only got one guinea out of him. I could tear my flesh off my bones when +I think of it." + +The same night Old Sharon started for France, by way of Dover and +Calais. + +Two days elapsed, and brought no news from Moody's agent. On the third +day, he received some information relating to Sharon--not from the man +himself, but in a letter from Isabel Miller. + +"For once, dear Robert," she wrote, "my judgment has turned out to be +sounder than yours. That hateful old man has confirmed my worst opinion +of him. Pray have him punished. Take him before a magistrate and charge +him with cheating you out of your money. I inclose the sealed letter +which he gave me at the farmhouse. The week's time before I was to +open it expired yesterday. Was there ever anything so impudent and so +inhuman? I am too vexed and angry about the money you have wasted on +this old wretch to write more. Yours, gratefully and affectionately, +Isabel." + +The letter in which Old Sharon had undertaken (by way of pacifying +Isabel) to write the name of the thief, contained these lines: + +"You are a charming girl, my dear; but you still want one thing to make +you perfect--and that is a lesson in patience. I am proud and happy +to teach you. The name of the thief remains, for the present, Mr. ---- +(Blank)." + +From Moody's point of view, there was but one thing to be said of this: +it was just like Old Sharon! Isabel's letter was of infinitely greater +interest to him. He feasted his eyes on the words above the signature: +she signed herself, "Yours gratefully and affectionately." Did the +last words mean that she was really beginning to be fond of him? After +kissing the word, he wrote a comforting letter to her, in which he +pledged himself to keep a watchful eye on Sharon, and to trust him with +no more money until he had honestly earned it first. + +A week passed. Moody (longing to see Isabel) still waited in vain for +news from France. He had just decided to delay his visit to South Morden +no longer, when the errand-boy employed by Sharon brought him this +message: "The old 'un's at home, and waitin' to see yer." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +SHARON'S news was not of an encouraging character. He had met with +serious difficulties, and had spent the last farthing of Moody's money +in attempting to overcome them. + +One discovery of importance he had certainly made. A horse withdrawn +from the sale was the only horse that had met with Hardyman's approval. +He had secured the animal at the high reserved price of twelve thousand +francs--being four hundred and eighty pounds in English money; and he +had paid with an English bank-note. The seller (a French horse-dealer +resident in Brussels) had returned to Belgium immediately on completing +the negotiations. Sharon had ascertained his address, and had written to +him at Brussels, inclosing the number of the lost banknote. In two days +he had received an answer, informing him that the horse-dealer had been +called to England by the illness of a relative, and that he had hitherto +failed to send any address to which his letters could be forwarded. +Hearing this, and having exhausted his funds, Sharon had returned to +London. It now rested with Moody to decide whether the course of the +inquiry should follow the horse-dealer next. Here was the cash account, +showing how the money had been spent. And there was Sharon, with his +pipe in his mouth and his dog on his lap, waiting for orders. + +Moody wisely took time to consider before he committed himself to a +decision. In the meanwhile, he ventured to recommend a new course of +proceeding which Sharon's report had suggested to his mind. + +"It seems to me," he said, "that we have taken the roundabout way of +getting to our end in view, when the straight road lay before us. If Mr. +Hardyman has passed the stolen note, you know, as well as I do, that he +has passed it innocently. Instead of wasting time and money in trying to +trace a stranger, why not tell Mr. Hardyman what has happened, and ask +him to give us the number of the note? You can't think of everything, I +know; but it does seem strange that this idea didn't occur to you before +you went to France." + +"Mr. Moody," said Old Sharon, "I shall have to cut your acquaintance. +You are a man without faith; I don't like you. As if I hadn't thought of +Hardyman weeks since!" he exclaimed contemptuously. "Are you really soft +enough to suppose that a gentleman in his position would talk about +his money affairs to me? You know mighty little of him if you do. A +fortnight since I sent one of my men (most respectably dressed) to hang +about his farm, and see what information he could pick up. My man became +painfully acquainted with the toe of a boot. It was thick, sir; and it +was Hardyman's." + +"I will run the risk of the boot," Moody replied, in his quiet way. + +"And put the question to Hardyman?" + +"Yes." + +"Very good," said Sharon. "If you get your answer from his tongue, +instead of his boot, the case is cleared up--unless I have made a +complete mess of it. Look here, Moody! If you want to do me a good turn, +tell the lawyer that the guinea-opinion was the right one. Let him know +that _he_ was the fool, not you, when he buttoned up his pockets and +refused to trust me. And, I say," pursued Old Sharon, relapsing into his +customary impudence, "you're in love, you know, with that nice girl. I +like her myself. When you marry her invite me to the wedding. I'll +make a sacrifice; I'll brush my hair and wash my face in honor of the +occasion." + +Returning to his lodgings, Moody found two letters waiting on the table. +One of them bore the South Morden postmark. He opened that letter first. + +It was written by Miss Pink. The first lines contained an urgent +entreaty to keep the circumstances connected with the loss of the five +hundred pounds the strictest secret from everyone in general, and from +Hardyman in particular. The reasons assigned for making the strange +request were next expressed in these terms: "My niece Isabel is, I +am happy to inform you, engaged to be married to Mr. Hardyman. If the +slightest hint reached him of her having been associated, no matter how +cruelly and unjustly, with a suspicion of theft, the marriage would be +broken off, and the result to herself and to everybody connected with +her, would be disgrace for the rest of our lives." + +On the blank space at the foot of the page a few words were added in +Isabel's writing: "Whatever changes there may be in my life, your place +in my heart is one that no other person can fill: it is the place of my +dearest friend. Pray write and tell me that you are not distressed and +not angry. My one anxiety is that you should remember what I have always +told you about the state of my own feelings. My one wish is that you +will still let me love you and value you, as I might have loved and +valued a brother." + +The letter dropped from Moody's hand. Not a word--not even a +sigh--passed his lips. In tearless silence he submitted to the pang that +wrung him. In tearless silence he contemplated the wreck of his life. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE narrative returns to South Morden, and follows the events which +attended Isabel's marriage engagement. + +To say that Miss Pink, inflated by the triumph, rose, morally speaking, +from the earth and floated among the clouds, is to indicate faintly the +effect produced on the ex-schoolmistress when her niece first informed +her of what had happened at the farm. Attacked on one side by her aunt, +and on the other by Hardyman, and feebly defended, at the best, by her +own doubts and misgivings, Isabel ended by surrendering at discretion. +Like thousands of other women in a similar position, she was in the last +degree uncertain as to the state of her own heart. To what extent she +was insensibly influenced by Hardyman's commanding position in believing +herself to be sincerely attached to him, it was beyond her power of +self-examination to discover. He doubly dazzled her by his birth and +by his celebrity. Not in England only, but throughout Europe, he was a +recognized authority on his own subject. How could she--how could any +woman--resist the influence of his steady mind, his firmness of purpose, +his manly resolution to owe everything to himself and nothing to his +rank, set off as these attractive qualities were by the outward and +personal advantages which exercise an ascendancy of their own? Isabel +was fascinated, and yet Isabel was not at ease. In her lonely moments +she was troubled by regretful thoughts of Moody, which perplexed and +irritated her. She had always behaved honestly to him; she had never +encouraged him to hope that his love for her had the faintest prospect +of being returned. Yet, knowing, as she did, that her conduct was +blameless so far, there were nevertheless perverse sympathies in her +which took his part. In the wakeful hours of the night there were +whispering voices in her which said: "Think of Moody!" Had there been +a growing kindness towards this good friend in her heart, of which she +herself was not aware? She tried to detect it--to weigh it for what it +was really worth. But it lay too deep to be discovered and estimated, +if it did really exist--if it had any sounder origin than her own morbid +fancy. In the broad light of day, in the little bustling duties of life, +she forgot it again. She could think of what she ought to wear on the +wedding day; she could even try privately how her new signature, "Isabel +Hardyman," would look when she had the right to use it. On the whole, it +may be said that the time passed smoothly--with some occasional checks +and drawbacks, which were the more easily endured seeing that they took +their rise in Isabel's own conduct. Compliant as she was in general, +there were two instances, among others, in which her resolution to take +her own way was not to be overcome. She refused to write either to Moody +or to Lady Lydiard informing them of her engagement; and she steadily +disapproved of Miss Pink's policy of concealment, in the matter of the +robbery at Lady Lydiard's house. Her aunt could only secure her as a +passive accomplice by stating family considerations in the strongest +possible terms. "If the disgrace was confined to you, my dear, I might +leave you to decide. But I am involved in it, as your nearest relative; +and, what is more, even the sacred memories of your father and mother +might feel the slur cast on them." This exaggerated language--like all +exaggerated language, a mischievous weapon in the arsenal of weakness +and prejudice--had its effect on Isabel. Reluctantly and sadly, she +consented to be silent. + +Miss Pink wrote word of the engagement to Moody first; reserving to a +later day the superior pleasure of informing Lady Lydiard of the very +event which that audacious woman had declared to be impossible. To her +aunt's surprise, just as she was about to close the envelope Isabel +stepped forward, and inconsistently requested leave to add a postscript +to the very letter which she had refused to write! Miss Pink was not +even permitted to see the postscript. Isabel secured the envelope the +moment she laid down her pen, and retired to her room with a headache +(which was heartache in disguise) for the rest of the day. + +While the question of marriage was still in debate, an event occurred +which exercised a serious influence on Hardyman's future plans. + +He received a letter from the Continent which claimed his immediate +attention. One of the sovereigns of Europe had decided on making some +radical changes in the mounting and equipment of a cavalry regiment; +and he required the assistance of Hardyman in that important part of the +contemplated reform which was connected with the choice and purchase +of horses. Setting his own interests out of the question, Hardyman owed +obligations to the kindness of his illustrious correspondent which made +it impossible for him to send an excuse. In a fortnight's time, at the +latest, it would be necessary for him to leave England; and a month or +more might elapse before it would be possible for him to return. + +Under these circumstances, he proposed, in his own precipitate way, to +hasten the date of the marriage. The necessary legal delay would permit +the ceremony to be performed on that day fortnight. Isabel might then +accompany him on his journey, and spend a brilliant honeymoon at the +foreign Court. She at once refused, not only to accept his proposal, but +even to take it into consideration. While Miss Pink dwelt eloquently on +the shortness of the notice, Miss Pink's niece based her resolution +on far more important grounds. Hardyman had not yet announced the +contemplated marriage to his parents and friends; and Isabel was +determined not to become his wife until she could be first assured of a +courteous and tolerant reception by the family--if she could hope for no +warmer welcome at their hands. + +Hardyman was not a man who yielded easily, even in trifles. In the +present case, his dearest interests were concerned in inducing Isabel +to reconsider her decision. He was still vainly trying to shake her +resolution, when the afternoon post brought a letter for Miss Pink which +introduced a new element of disturbance into the discussion. The letter +was nothing less than Lady Lydiard's reply to the written announcement +of Isabel's engagement, despatched on the previous day by Miss Pink. + +Her Ladyship's answer was a surprisingly short one. It only contained +these lines: + +"Lady Lydiard begs to acknowledge the receipt of Miss Pink's letter +requesting that she will say nothing to Mr. Hardyman of the loss of +a bank-note in her house, and, assigning as a reason that Miss Isabel +Miller is engaged to be married to Mr. Hardyman, and might be prejudiced +in his estimation if the facts were made known. Miss Pink may make her +mind easy. Lady Lydiard had not the slightest intention of taking Mr. +Hardyman into her confidence on the subject of her domestic affairs. +With regard to the proposed marriage, Lady Lydiard casts no doubt on +Miss Pink's perfect sincerity and good faith; but, at the same time, +she positively declines to believe that Mr. Hardyman means to make +Miss Isabel Miller his wife. Lady L. will yield to the evidence of a +properly-attested certificate--and to nothing else." + + +A folded piece of paper, directed to Isabel, dropped out of this +characteristic letter as Miss Pink turned from the first page to the +second. Lady Lydiard addressed her adopted daughter in these words: + +"I was on the point of leaving home to visit you again, when I received +your aunt's letter. My poor deluded child, no words can tell how +distressed I am about you. You are already sacrificed to the folly of +the most foolish woman living. For God's sake, take care you do not fall +a victim next to the designs of a profligate man. Come to me instantly, +Isabel, and I promise to take care of you." + +Fortified by these letters, and aided by Miss Pink's indignation, +Hardyman pressed his proposal on Isabel with renewed resolution. She +made no attempt to combat his arguments--she only held firmly to her +decision. Without some encouragement from Hardyman's father and mother +she still steadily refused to become his wife. Irritated already by +Lady Lydiard's letters, he lost the self-command which so eminently +distinguished him in the ordinary affairs of life, and showed the +domineering and despotic temper which was an inbred part of his +disposition. Isabel's high spirit at once resented the harsh terms in +which he spoke to her. In the plainest words, she released him from his +engagement, and, without waiting for his excuses, quitted the room. + +Left together, Hardyman and Miss Pink devised an arrangement which +paid due respect to Isabel's scruples, and at the same time met Lady +Lydiard's insulting assertion of disbelief in Hardyman's honor, by a +formal and public announcement of the marriage. + +It was proposed to give a garden party at the farm in a week's time +for the express purpose of introducing Isabel to Hardyman's family and +friends in the character of his betrothed wife. If his father and mother +accepted the invitation, Isabel's only objection to hastening the union +would fall to the ground. Hardyman might, in that case, plead with his +Imperial correspondent for a delay in his departure of a few days more; +and the marriage might still take place before he left England. Isabel, +at Miss Pink's intercession, was induced to accept her lover's excuses, +and, in the event of her favorable reception by Hardyman's parents at +the farm, to give her consent (not very willingly even yet) to hastening +the ceremony which was to make her Hardyman's wife. + +On the next morning the whole of the invitations were sent out, +excepting the invitation to Hardyman's father and mother. Without +mentioning it to Isabel, Hardyman decided on personally appealing to +his mother before he ventured on taking the head of the family into his +confidence. + +The result of the interview was partially successful--and no more. Lord +Rotherfield declined to see his youngest son; and he had engagements +which would, under any circumstances, prevent his being present at the +garden party. But at the express request of Lady Rotherfield, he was +willing to make certain concessions. + +"I have always regarded Alfred as a barely sane person," said his +Lordship, "since he turned his back on his prospects to become a horse +dealer. If we decline altogether to sanction this new act--I won't say, +of insanity, I will say, of absurdity--on his part, it is impossible to +predict to what discreditable extremities he may not proceed. We must +temporise with Alfred. In the meantime I shall endeavor to obtain some +information respecting this young person--named Miller, I think you +said, and now resident at South Morden. If I am satisfied that she is +a woman of reputable character, possessing an average education and +presentable manners, we may as well let Alfred take his own way. He is +out of the pale of Society, as it is; and Miss Miller has no father and +mother to complicate matters, which is distinctly a merit on her part +and, in short, if the marriage is not absolutely disgraceful, the wisest +way (as we have no power to prevent it) will be to submit. You will say +nothing to Alfred about what I propose to do. I tell you plainly I +don't trust him. You will simply inform him from me that I want time to +consider, and that, unless he hears to the contrary in the interval, he +may expect to have the sanction of your presence at his breakfast, or +luncheon, or whatever it is. I must go to town in a day or two, and I +shall ascertain what Alfred's friends know about this last of his many +follies, if I meet any of them at the club." + +Returning to South Morden in no serene frame of mind, Hardyman found +Isabel in a state of depression which perplexed and alarmed him. + +The news that his mother might be expected to be present at the garden +party failed entirely to raise her spirits. The only explanation she +gave of the change in her was, that the dull heavy weather of the +last few days made her feel a little languid and nervous. Naturally +dissatisfied with this reply to his inquiries, Hardyman asked for +Miss Pink. He was informed that Miss Pink could not see him. She was +constitutionally subject to asthma, and, having warnings of the return +of the malady, she was (by the doctor's advice) keeping her room. +Hardyman returned to the farm in a temper which was felt by everybody in +his employment, from the trainer to the stable-boys. + +While the apology made for Miss Pink stated no more than the plain +truth, it must be confessed that Hardyman was right in declining to be +satisfied with Isabel's excuse for the melancholy that oppressed her. +She had that morning received Moody's answer to the lines which she had +addressed to him at the end of her aunt's letter; and she had not yet +recovered from the effect which it had produced on her spirits. + +"It is impossible for me to say honestly that I am not distressed (Moody +wrote) by the news of your marriage engagement. The blow has fallen very +heavily on me. When I look at the future now, I see only a dreary blank. +This is not your fault--you are in no way to blame. I remember the time +when I should have been too angry to own this--when I might have said or +done things which I should have bitterly repented afterwards. That time +is past. My temper has been softened, since I have befriended you in +your troubles. That good at least has come out of my foolish hopes, +and perhaps out of the true sympathy which I have felt for you. I +can honestly ask you to accept my heart's dearest wishes for your +happiness--and I can keep the rest to myself. + +"Let me say a word now relating to the efforts that I have made to help +you, since that sad day when you left Lady Lydiard's house. + +"I had hoped (for reasons which it is needless to mention here) to +interest Mr. Hardyman himself in aiding our inquiry. But your aunt's +wishes, as expressed in her letter to me, close my lips. I will only +beg you, at some convenient time, to let me mention the last discoveries +that we have made; leaving it to your discretion, when Mr. Hardyman +has become your husband, to ask him the questions which, under other +circumstances, I should have put to him myself. + +"It is, of course, possible that the view I take of Mr. Hardyman's +capacity to help us may be a mistaken one. In this case, if you still +wish the investigation to be privately carried on, I entreat you to let +me continue to direct it, as the greatest favor you can confer on your +devoted old friend. + +"You need be under no apprehension about the expense to which you are +likely to put me. I have unexpectedly inherited what is to me a handsome +fortune. + +"The same post which brought your aunt's letter brought a line from a +lawyer asking me to see him on the subject of my late father's affairs. +I waited a day or two before I could summon heart enough to see him, or +to see anybody; and then I went to his office. You have heard that +my father's bank stopped payment, at a time of commercial panic. His +failure was mainly attributable to the treachery of a friend to whom +he had lent a large sum of money, and who paid him the yearly interest, +without acknowledging that every farthing of it had been lost in +unsuccessful speculations. The son of this man has prospered in +business, and he has honorably devoted a part of his wealth to the +payment of his father's creditors. Half the sum due to _my_ father has +thus passed into my hands as his next of kin; and the other half is to +follow in course of time. If my hopes had been fulfilled, how gladly +I should have shared my prosperity with you! As it is, I have far more +than enough for my wants as a lonely man, and plenty left to spend in +your service. + +"God bless and prosper you, my dear. I shall ask you to accept a little +present from me, among the other offerings that are made to you before +the wedding day.--R.M." + + +The studiously considerate and delicate tone in which these lines were +written had an effect on Isabel which was exactly the opposite of the +effect intended by the writer. She burst into a passionate fit of tears; +and in the safe solitude of her own room, the despairing words escaped +her, "I wish I had died before I met with Alfred Hardyman!" + +As the days wore on, disappointments and difficulties seemed by a kind +of fatality to beset the contemplated announcement of the marriage. + +Miss Pink's asthma, developed by the unfavorable weather, set the +doctor's art at defiance, and threatened to keep that unfortunate lady +a prisoner in her room on the day of the party. Hardyman's invitations +were in some cases refused; and in others accepted by husbands with +excuses for the absence of their wives. His elder brother made an +apology for himself as well as for his wife. Felix Sweetsir wrote, "With +pleasure, dear Alfred, if my health permits me to leave the house." Lady +Lydiard, invited at Miss Pink's special request, sent no reply. The one +encouraging circumstance was the silence of Lady Rotherfield. So long as +her son received no intimation to the contrary, it was a sign that Lord +Rotherfield permitted his wife to sanction the marriage by her presence. + +Hardyman wrote to his Imperial correspondent, engaging to leave England +on the earliest possible day, and asking to be pardoned if he failed to +express himself more definitely, in consideration of domestic affairs, +which it was necessary to settle before he started for the Continent. +If there should not be time enough to write again, he promised to send +a telegraphic announcement of his departure. Long afterwards, Hardyman +remembered the misgivings that had troubled him when he wrote that +letter. In the rough draught of it, he had mentioned, as his excuse +for not being yet certain of his own movements, that he expected to +be immediately married. In the fair copy, the vague foreboding of some +accident to come was so painfully present to his mind, that he struck +out the words which referred to his marriage, and substituted the +designedly indefinite phrase, "domestic affairs." + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE day of the garden party arrived. There was no rain; but the air was +heavy, and the sky was overcast by lowering clouds. + +Some hours before the guests were expected, Isabel arrived alone at +the farm, bearing the apologies of unfortunate Miss Pink, still kept a +prisoner in her bed-chamber by the asthma. In the confusion produced at +the cottage by the preparations for entertaining the company, the one +room in which Hardyman could receive Isabel with the certainty of not +being interrupted was the smoking-room. To this haven of refuge he led +her--still reserved and silent, still not restored to her customary +spirits. "If any visitors come before the time," Hardyman said to his +servant, "tell them I am engaged at the stables. I must have an hour's +quiet talk with you," he continued, turning to Isabel, "or I shall be in +too bad a temper to receive my guests with common politeness. The worry +of giving this party is not to be told in words. I almost wish I had +been content with presenting you to my mother, and had let the rest of +my acquaintances go to the devil." + +A quiet half hour passed; and the first visitor, a stranger to the +servants, appeared at the cottage-gate. He was a middle-aged man, and +he had no wish to disturb Mr. Hardyman. "I will wait in the grounds," he +said, "and trouble nobody." The middle-aged man, who expressed himself +in these modest terms, was Robert Moody. + +Five minutes later, a carriage drove up to the gate. An elderly lady got +out of it, followed by a fat white Scotch terrier, who growled at every +stranger within his reach. It is needless to introduce Lady Lydiard and +Tommie. + +Informed that Mr. Hardyman was at the stables, Lady Lydiard gave the +servant her card. "Take that to your master, and say I won't detain +him five minutes." With these words, her Ladyship sauntered into the +grounds. She looked about her with observant eyes; not only noticing +the tent which had been set up on the grass to accommodate the expected +guests, but entering it, and looking at the waiters who were engaged +in placing the luncheon on the table. Returning to the outer world, she +next remarked that Mr. Hardyman's lawn was in very bad order. Barren +sun-dried patches, and little holes and crevices opened here and +there by the action of the summer heat, announced that the lawn, like +everything else at the farm, had been neglected, in the exclusive +attention paid to the claims of the horses. Reaching a shrubbery which +bounded one side of the grounds next, her Ladyship became aware of a man +slowly approaching her, to all appearance absorbed in thought. The +man drew a little nearer. She lifted her glasses to her eyes and +recognized--Moody. + +No embarrassment was produced on either side by this unexpected meeting. +Lady Lydiard had, not long since, sent to ask her former steward to +visit her; regretting, in her warm-hearted way, the terms on which they +had separated, and wishing to atone for the harsh language that had +escaped her at their parting interview. In the friendly talk which +followed the reconciliation, Lady Lydiard not only heard the news +of Moody's pecuniary inheritance--but, noticing the change in his +appearance for the worse, contrived to extract from him the confession +of his ill-starred passion for Isabel. To discover him now, after all +that he had acknowledged, walking about the grounds at Hardyman's farm, +took her Ladyship completely by surprise. "Good Heavens!" she exclaimed, +in her loudest tones, "what are you doing here?" + +"You mentioned Mr. Hardyman's garden party, my Lady, when I had the +honor of waiting on you," Moody answered. "Thinking over it afterward, +it seemed the fittest occasion I could find for making a little wedding +present to Miss Isabel. Is there any harm in my asking Mr. Hardyman to +let me put the present on her plate, so that she may see it when she +sits down to luncheon? If your Ladyship thinks so, I will go away +directly, and send the gift by post." + +Lady Lydiard looked at him attentively. "You don't despise the girl," +she asked, "for selling herself for rank and money? I do--I can tell +you!" + +Moody's worn white face flushed a little. "No, my Lady," he answered, +"I can't hear you say that! Isabel would not have engaged herself to Mr. +Hardyman unless she had been fond of him--as fond, I dare say, as I once +hoped she might be of me. It's a hard thing to confess that; but I do +confess it, in justice to her--God bless her!" + +The generosity that spoke in those simple words touched the finest +sympathies in Lady Lydiard's nature. "Give me your hand," she said, with +her own generous spirit kindling in her eyes. "You have a great heart, +Moody. Isabel Miller is a fool for not marrying _you_--and one day she +will know it!" + +Before a word more could pass between them, Hardyman's voice was audible +on the other side of the shrubbery, calling irritably to his servant to +find Lady Lydiard. + +Moody retired to the further end of the walk, while Lady Lydiard +advanced in the opposite direction, so as to meet Hardyman at the +entrance to the shrubbery. He bowed stiffly, and begged to know why her +Ladyship had honored him with a visit. + +Lady Lydiard replied without noticing the coldness of her reception. + +"I have not been very well, Mr. Hardyman, or you would have seen me +before this. My only object in presenting myself here is to make my +excuses personally for having written of you in terms which expressed +a doubt of your honor. I have done you an injustice, and I beg you to +forgive me." + +Hardyman acknowledged this frank apology as unreservedly as it had been +offered to him. "Say no more, Lady Lydiard. And let me hope, now you are +here, that you will honor my little party with your presence." + +Lady Lydiard gravely stated her reasons for not accepting the +invitation. + +"I disapprove so strongly of unequal marriages," she said, walking +on slowly towards the cottage, "that I cannot, in common consistency, +become one of your guests. I shall always feel interested in Isabel +Miller's welfare; and I can honestly say I shall be glad if your married +life proves that my old-fashioned prejudices are without justification +in your case. Accept my thanks for your invitation; and let me hope that +my plain speaking has not offended you." + +She bowed, and looked about her for Tommie before she advanced to the +carriage waiting for her at the gate. In the surprise of seeing +Moody she had forgotten to look back for the dog when she entered +the shrubbery. She now called to him, and blew the whistle at her +watch-chain. Not a sign of Tommie was to be seen. Hardyman instantly +directed the servants to search in the cottage and out of the cottage +for the dog. The order was obeyed with all needful activity and +intelligence, and entirely without success. For the time being at any +rate, Tommie was lost. + +Hardyman promised to have the dog looked for in every part of the farm, +and to send him back in the care of one of his own men. With these +polite assurances Lady Lydiard was obliged to be satisfied. She drove +away in a very despondent frame of mind. "First Isabel, and now Tommie," +thought her Ladyship. "I am losing the only companions who made life +tolerable to me." + +Returning from the garden gate, after taking leave of his visitor, +Hardyman received from his servant a handful of letters which had just +arrived for him. Walking slowly over the lawn as he opened them, he +found nothing but excuses for the absence of guests who had already +accepted their invitations. He had just thrust the letters into his +pocket, when he heard footsteps behind him, and, looking round, found +himself confronted by Moody. + +"Hullo! have you come to lunch?" Hardyman asked, roughly. + +"I have come here, sir, with a little gift for Miss Isabel, in honor of +her marriage," Moody answered quietly, "and I ask your permission to +put it on the table, so that she may see it when your guests sit down to +luncheon." + +He opened a jeweler's case as he spoke, containing a plain gold bracelet +with an inscription engraved on the inner side: "To Miss Isabel Miller, +with the sincere good wishes of Robert Moody." + +Plain as it was, the design of the bracelet was unusually beautiful. +Hardyman had noticed Moody's agitation on the day when he had met Isabel +near her aunt's house, and had drawn his own conclusions from it. His +face darkened with a momentary jealousy as he looked at the bracelet. +"All right, old fellow!" he said, with contemptuous familiarity. "Don't +be modest. Wait and give it to her with your own hand." + +"No, sir," said Moody "I would rather leave it, if you please, to speak +for itself." + +Hardyman understood the delicacy of feeling which dictated those words, +and, without well knowing why, resented it. He was on the point of +speaking, under the influence of this unworthy motive, when Isabel's +voice reached his ears, calling to him from the cottage. + +Moody's face contracted with a sudden expression of pain as he, too, +recognized the voice. "Don't let me detain you, sir," he said, sadly. +"Good-morning!" + +Hardyman left him without ceremony. Moody, slowly following, entered the +tent. All the preparations for the luncheon had been completed; nobody +was there. The places to be occupied by the guests were indicated +by cards bearing their names. Moody found Isabel's card, and put his +bracelet inside the folded napkin on her plate. For a while he stood +with his hand on the table, thinking. The temptation to communicate once +more with Isabel before he lost her forever, was fast getting the better +of his powers of resistance. + +"If I could persuade her to write a word to say she liked her bracelet," +he thought, "it would be a comfort when I go back to my solitary life." +He tore a leaf out of his pocket book and wrote on it, "One line to say +you accept my gift and my good wishes. Put it under the cushion of your +chair, and I shall find it when the company have left the tent." He +slipped the paper into the case which held the bracelet, and instead of +leaving the farm as he had intended, turned back to the shelter of the +shrubbery. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +HARDYMAN went on to the cottage. He found Isabel in some agitation. +And there, by her side, with his tail wagging slowly, and his eye on +Hardyman in expectation of a possible kick--there was the lost Tommie! + +"Has Lady Lydiard gone?" Isabel asked eagerly. + +"Yes," said Hardyman. "Where did you find the dog?" + +As events had ordered it, the dog had found Isabel, under these +circumstances. + +The appearance of Lady Lydiard's card in the smoking-room had been an +alarming event for Lady Lydiard's adopted daughter. She was guiltily +conscious of not having answered her Ladyship's note, inclosed in +Miss Pink's letter, and of not having taken her Ladyship's advice in +regulating her conduct towards Hardyman. As he rose to leave the room +and receive his visitor in the grounds, Isabel begged him to say nothing +of her presence at the farm, unless Lady Lydiard exhibited a forgiving +turn of mind by asking to see her. Left by herself in the smoking-room, +she suddenly heard a bark in the passage which had a familiar sound in +her ears. She opened the door--and in rushed Tommie, with one of his +shrieks of delight! Curiosity had taken him into the house. He had heard +the voices in the smoking-room; had recognized Isabel's voice; and +had waited, with his customary cunning and his customary distrust of +strangers, until Hardyman was out of the way. Isabel kissed and caressed +him, and then drove him out again to the lawn, fearing that Lady Lydiard +might return to look for him. Going back to the smoking-room, she stood +at the window watching for Hardyman's return. When the servants came to +look for the dog, she could only tell them that she had last seen him +in the grounds, not far from the cottage. The useless search being +abandoned, and the carriage having left the gate, who should crawl out +from the back of a cupboard in which some empty hampers were placed but +Tommie himself! How he had contrived to get back to the smoking-room +(unless she had omitted to completely close the door on her return) it +was impossible to say. But there he was, determined this time to stay +with Isabel, and keeping in his hiding place until he heard the movement +of the carriage-wheels, which informed him that his lawful mistress had +left the cottage! Isabel had at once called Hardyman, on the chance +that the carriage might yet be stopped. It was already out of sight, and +nobody knew which of two roads it had taken, both leading to London. In +this emergency, Isabel could only look at Hardyman and ask what was to +be done. + +"I can't spare a servant till after the party," he answered. "The dog +must be tied up in the stables." + +Isabel shook her head. Tommie was not accustomed to be tied up. He would +make a disturbance, and he would be beaten by the grooms. "I will take +care of him," she said. "He won't leave me." + +"There's something else to think of besides the dog," Hardyman rejoined +irritably. "Look at these letters!" He pulled them out of his pocket as +he spoke. "Here are no less than seven men, all calling themselves my +friends, who accepted my invitation, and who write to excuse themselves +on the very day of the party. Do you know why? They're all afraid of my +father--I forgot to tell you he's a Cabinet Minister as well as a Lord. +Cowards and cads. They have heard he isn't coming and they think to +curry favor with the great man by stopping away. Come along, Isabel! +Let's take their names off the luncheon table. Not a man of them shall +ever darken my doors again!" + +"I am to blame for what has happened," Isabel answered sadly. "I am +estranging you from your friends. There is still time, Alfred, to alter +your mind and let me go." + +He put his arm round her with rough fondness. "I would sacrifice every +friend I have in the world rather than lose you. Come along!" + +They left the cottage. At the entrance to the tent, Hardyman noticed +the dog at Isabel's heels, and vented his ill-temper, as usual with male +humanity, on the nearest unoffending creature that he could find. "Be +off, you mongrel brute!" he shouted. The tail of Tommie relaxed from its +customary tight curve over the small of his back; and the legs of Tommie +(with his tail between them) took him at full gallop to the friendly +shelter of the cupboard in the smoking-room. It was one of those +trifling circumstances which women notice seriously. Isabel said +nothing; she only thought to herself, "I wish he had shown his temper +when I first knew him!" + +They entered the tent. + +"I'll read the names," said Hardyman, "and you find the cards and tear +them up. Stop! I'll keep the cards. You're just the sort of woman my +father likes. He'll be reconciled to me when he sees you, after we are +married. If one of those men ever asks him for a place, I'll take +care, if it's years hence, to put an obstacle in his way! Here; take my +pencil, and make a mark on the cards to remind me; the same mark I set +against a horse in my book when I don't like him--a cross, inclosed in a +circle." He produced his pocketbook. His hands trembled with anger as +he gave the pencil to Isabel and laid the book on the table. He had just +read the name of the first false friend, and Isabel had just found +the card, when a servant appeared with a message. "Mrs. Drumblade +has arrived, sir, and wishes to see you on a matter of the greatest +importance." + +Hardyman left the tent, not very willingly. "Wait here," he said to +Isabel; "I'll be back directly." + +She was standing near her own place at the table. Moody had left one +end of the jeweler's case visible above the napkin, to attract her +attention. In a minute more the bracelet and note were in her hands. She +dropped on her chair, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions that rose +in her at the sight of the bracelet, at the reading of the note. Her +head drooped, and the tears filled her eyes. "Are all women as blind +as I have been to what is good and noble in the men who love them?" she +wondered, sadly. "Better as it is," she thought, with a bitter sigh; "I +am not worthy of him." + +As she took up the pencil to write her answer to Moody on the back of +her dinner-card, the servant appeared again at the door of the tent. + +"My master wants you at the cottage, miss, immediately." + +Isabel rose, putting the bracelet and the note in the silver-mounted +leather pocket (a present from Hardyman) which hung at her belt. In the +hurry of passing round the table to get out, she never noticed that her +dress touched Hardyman's pocketbook, placed close to the edge, and threw +it down on the grass below. The book fell into one of the heat cracks +which Lady Lydiard had noticed as evidence of the neglected condition of +the cottage lawn. + +"You ought to hear the pleasant news my sister has just brought me," +said Hardyman, when Isabel joined him in the parlor. "Mrs. Drumblade has +been told, on the best authority, that my mother is not coming to the +party." + +"There must be some reason, of course, dear Isabel," added Mrs. +Drumblade. "Have you any idea of what it can be? I haven't seen my +mother myself; and all my inquiries have failed to find it out." + +She looked searchingly at Isabel as she spoke. The mask of sympathy on +her face was admirably worn. Nobody who possessed only a superficial +acquaintance with Mrs. Drumblade's character would have suspected how +thoroughly she was enjoying in secret the position of embarrassment in +which her news had placed her brother. Instinctively doubting whether +Mrs. Drumblade's friendly behavior was quite as sincere as it appeared +to be, Isabel answered that she was a stranger to Lady Rotherfield, and +was therefore quite at a loss to explain the cause of her ladyship's +absence. As she spoke, the guests began to arrive in quick succession, +and the subject was dropped as a matter of course. + +It was not a merry party. Hardyman's approaching marriage had been made +the topic of much malicious gossip, and Isabel's character had, as usual +in such cases, become the object of all the false reports that +scandal could invent. Lady Rotherfield's absence confirmed the general +conviction that Hardyman was disgracing himself. The men were all +more or less uneasy. The women resented the discovery that Isabel +was--personally speaking, at least--beyond the reach of hostile +criticism. Her beauty was viewed as a downright offense; her refined and +modest manners were set down as perfect acting; "really disgusting, +my dear, in so young a girl." General Drumblade, a large and mouldy +veteran, in a state of chronic astonishment (after his own matrimonial +experience) at Hardyman's folly in marrying at all, diffused a wide +circle of gloom, wherever he went and whatever he did. His accomplished +wife, forcing her high spirits on everybody's attention with a sort of +kittenish playfulness, intensified the depressing effect of the general +dullness by all the force of the strongest contrast. After waiting half +an hour for his mother, and waiting in vain, Hardyman led the way to the +tent in despair. "The sooner I fill their stomachs and get rid of them," +he thought savagely, "the better I shall be pleased!" + +The luncheon was attacked by the company with a certain silent ferocity, +which the waiters noticed as remarkable, even in their large experience. +The men drank deeply, but with wonderfully little effect in raising +their spirits; the women, with the exception of amiable Mrs. Drumblade, +kept Isabel deliberately out of the conversation that went on among +them. General Drumblade, sitting next to her in one of the places of +honor, discoursed to Isabel privately on "my brother-in-law Hardyman's +infernal temper." A young marquis, on her other side--a mere lad, +chosen to make the necessary speech in acknowledgment of his superior +rank--rose, in a state of nervous trepidation, to propose Isabel's +health as the chosen bride of their host. Pale and trembling, conscious +of having forgotten the words which he had learnt beforehand, this +unhappy young nobleman began: "Ladies and gentlemen, I haven't an +idea--" He stopped, put his hand to his head, stared wildly, and sat +down again; having contrived to state his own case with masterly brevity +and perfect truth, in a speech of seven words. + +While the dismay, in some cases, and the amusement in others, was still +at its height, Hardyman's valet made his appearance, and, approaching +his master, said in a whisper, "Could I speak to you, sit, for a moment +outside?" + +"What the devil do you want?" Hardyman asked irritably. "Is that a +letter in your hand? Give it to me." + +The valet was a Frenchman. In other words, he had a sense of what was +due to himself. His master had forgotten this. He gave up the letter +with a certain dignity of manner, and left the tent. Hardyman opened the +letter. He turned pale as he read it; crumpled it in his hand, and threw +it down on the table. "By G--d! it's a lie!" he exclaimed furiously. + +The guests rose in confusion. Mrs. Drumblade, finding the letter within +her reach, coolly possessed herself of it; recognized her mother's +handwriting; and read these lines: + +"I have only now succeeded in persuading your father to let me write +to you. For God's sake, break off your marriage at any sacrifice. Your +father has heard, on unanswerable authority, that Miss Isabel Miller +left her situation in Lady Lydiard's house on suspicion of theft." + +While his sister was reading this letter, Hardyman had made his way to +Isabel's chair. "I must speak to you, directly," he whispered. "Come +away with me!" He turned, as he took her arm, and looked at the table. +"Where is my letter?" he asked. Mrs. Drumblade handed it to him, +dexterously crumpled up again as she had found it. "No bad news, dear +Alfred, I hope?" she said, in her most affectionate manner. Hardyman +snatched the letter from her, without answering, and led Isabel out of +the tent. + +"Read that!" he said, when they were alone. "And tell me at once whether +it's true or false." + +Isabel read the letter. For a moment the shock of the discovery held her +speechless. She recovered herself, and returned the letter. + +"It is true," she answered. + +Hardyman staggered back as if she had shot him. + +"True that you are guilty?" he asked. + +"No; I am innocent. Everybody who knows me believes in my innocence. +It is true the appearances were against me. They are against me still." +Having said this, she waited, quietly and firmly, for his next words. + +He passed his hand over his forehead with a sigh of relief. "It's bad +enough as it is," he said, speaking quietly on his side. "But the remedy +for it is plain enough. Come back to the tent." + +She never moved. "Why?" she asked. + +"Do you suppose I don't believe in your innocence too?" he answered. +"The one way of setting you right with the world now is for me to make +you my wife, in spite of the appearances that point to you. I'm too fond +of you, Isabel, to give you up. Come back with me, and I will announce +our marriage to my friends." + +She took his hand, and kissed it. "It is generous and good of you," she +said; "but it must not be." + +He took a step nearer to her. "What do you mean?" he asked. + +"It was against my will," she pursued, "that my aunt concealed the truth +from you. I did wrong to consent to it, I will do wrong no more. Your +mother is right, Alfred. After what has happened, I am not fit to be +your wife until my innocence is proved. It is not proved yet." + +The angry color began to rise in his face once more. "Take care," he +said; "I am not in a humor to be trifled with." + +"I am not trifling with you," she answered, in low, sad tones. + +"You really mean what you say?" + +"I mean it." + +"Don't be obstinate, Isabel. Take time to consider." + +"You are very kind, Alfred. My duty is plain to me. I will marry you--if +you still wish it--when my good name is restored to me. Not before." + +He laid one hand on her arm, and pointed with the other to the guests in +the distance, all leaving the tent on the way to their carriages. + +"Your good name will be restored to you," he said, "on the day when I +make you my wife. The worst enemy you have cannot associate _my_ name +with a suspicion of theft. Remember that and think a little before you +decide. You see those people there. If you don't change your mind by the +time they have got to the cottage, it's good-by between us, and good-by +forever. I refuse to wait for you; I refuse to accept a conditional +engagement. Wait, and think. They're walking slowly; you have got some +minutes more." + +He still held her arm, watching the guests as they gradually receded +from view. It was not until they had all collected in a group outside +the cottage door that he spoke himself, or that he permitted Isabel to +speak again. + +"Now," he said, "you have had your time to get cool. Will you take my +arm, and join those people with me? or will you say good-by forever?" + +"Forgive me, Alfred!" she began, gently. "I cannot consent, in justice +to you, to shelter myself behind your name. It is the name of your +family; and they have a right to expect that you will not degrade it--" + +"I want a plain answer," he interposed sternly. "Which is it? Yes, or +No?" + +She looked at him with sad compassionate eyes. Her voice was firm as she +answered him in one word as he had desired. The word was-- + +"No." + +Without speaking to her, without even looking at her, he turned and +walked back to the cottage. + +Making his way silently through the group of visitors--every one of whom +had been informed of what had happened by his sister--with his head down +and his lips fast closed, he entered the parlor and rang the bell which +communicated with his foreman's rooms at the stables. + +"You know that I am going abroad on business?" he said, when the man +appeared. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I am going to-day--going by the night train to Dover. Order the horse +to be put to instantly in the dogcart. Is there anything wanted before I +am off?" + +The inexorable necessities of business asserted their claims through +the obedient medium of the foreman. Chafing at the delay, Hardyman was +obliged to sit at his desk, signing checks and passing accounts, with +the dogcart waiting in the stable yard. + +A knock at the door startled him in the middle of his work. "Come in," +he called out sharply. + +He looked up, expecting to see one of the guests or one of the servants. +It was Moody who entered the room. Hardyman laid down his pen, and fixed +his eyes sternly on the man who had dared to interrupt him. + +"What the devil do _you_ want?" he asked. + +"I have seen Miss Isabel, and spoken with her," Moody replied. "Mr. +Hardyman, I believe it is in your power to set this matter right. For +the young lady's sake, sir, you must not leave England without doing +it." + +Hardyman turned to his foreman. "Is this fellow mad or drunk?" he asked. + +Moody proceeded as calmly and as resolutely as if those words had not +been spoken. "I apologize for my intrusion, sir. I will trouble you with +no explanations. I will only ask one question. Have you a memorandum of +the number of that five-hundred pound note you paid away in France?" + +Hardyman lost all control over himself. + +"You scoundrel!" he cried, "have you been prying into my private +affairs? Is it _your_ business to know what I did in France?" + +"Is it _your_ vengeance on a woman to refuse to tell her the number of a +bank-note?" Moody rejoined, firmly. + +That answer forced its way, through Hardyman's anger, to Hardyman's +sense of honor. He rose and advanced to Moody. For a moment the two men +faced each other in silence. "You're a bold fellow," said Hardyman, with +a sudden change from anger to irony. "I'll do the lady justice. I'll +look at my pocketbook." + +He put his hand into the breast-pocket of his coat; he searched his +other pockets; he turned over the objects on his writing-table. The book +was gone. + +Moody watched him with a feeling of despair. "Oh! Mr. Hardyman, don't +say you have lost your pocketbook!" + +He sat down again at his desk, with sullen submission to the new +disaster. "All I can say is you're at liberty to look for it," he +replied. "I must have dropped it somewhere." He turned impatiently to +the foreman, "Now then! What is the next check wanted? I shall go mad if +I wait in this damned place much longer!" + +Moody left him, and found his way to the servants' offices. "Mr. +Hardyman has lost his pocketbook," he said. "Look for it, indoors and +out--on the lawn, and in the tent. Ten pounds reward for the man who +finds it!" + +Servants and waiters instantly dispersed, eager for the promised reward. +The men who pursued the search outside the cottage divided their forces. +Some of them examined the lawn and the flower-beds. Others went straight +to the empty tent. These last were too completely absorbed in pursuing +the object in view to notice that they disturbed a dog, eating a stolen +lunch of his own from the morsels left on the plates. The dog slunk away +under the canvas when the men came in, waited in hiding until they had +gone, then returned to the tent, and went on with his luncheon. + +Moody hastened back to the part of the grounds (close to the shrubbery) +in which Isabel was waiting his return. + +She looked at him, while he was telling her of his interview with +Hardyman, with an expression in her eyes which he had never seen in them +before--an expression which set his heart beating wildly, and made him +break off in his narrative before he had reached the end. + +"I understand," she said quietly, as he stopped in confusion. "You have +made one more sacrifice to my welfare. Robert! I believe you are the +noblest man that ever breathed the breath of life!" + +His eyes sank before hers; he blushed like a boy. "I have done nothing +for you yet," he said. "Don't despair of the future, if the pocketbook +should not be found. I know who the man is who received the bank note; +and I have only to find him to decide the question whether it _is_ the +stolen note or not." + +She smiled sadly as his enthusiasm. "Are you going back to Mr. Sharon to +help you?" she asked. "That trick he played me has destroyed _my_ belief +in him. He no more knows than I do who the thief really is." + +"You are mistaken, Isabel. He knows--and I know." He stopped there, and +made a sign to her to be silent. One of the servants was approaching +them. + +"Is the pocketbook found?" Moody asked. + +"No, sir." + +"Has Mr. Hardyman left the cottage?" + +"He has just gone, sir. Have you any further instructions to give us?" + +"No. There is my address in London, if the pocketbook should be found." + +The man took the card that was handed to him and retired. Moody offered +his arm to Isabel. "I am at your service," he said, "when you wish to +return to your aunt." + +They had advanced nearly as far as the tent, on their way out of the +grounds, when they were met by a gentleman walking towards them from the +cottage. He was a stranger to Isabel. Moody immediately recognized him +as Mr. Felix Sweetsir. + +"Ha! our good Moody!" cried Felix. "Enviable man! you look younger than +ever." He took off his hat to Isabel; his bright restless eyes suddenly +became quiet as they rested on her. "Have I the honor of addressing +the future Mrs. Hardyman? May I offer my best congratulations? What has +become of our friend Alfred?" + +Moody answered for Isabel. "If you will make inquiries at the cottage, +sir," he said, "you will find that you are mistaken, to say the least of +it, in addressing your questions to this young lady." + +Felix took off his hat again--with the most becoming appearance of +surprise and distress. + +"Something wrong, I fear?" he said, addressing Isabel. "I am, indeed, +ashamed if I have ignorantly given you a moment's pain. Pray accept +my most sincere apologies. I have only this instant arrived; my health +would not allow me to be present at the luncheon. Permit me to express +the earnest hope that matters may be set right to the satisfaction of +all parties. Good-afternoon!" + +He bowed with elaborate courtesy, and turned back to the cottage. + +"Who is that?" Isabel asked. + +"Lady Lydiard's nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir," Moody answered, with +a sudden sternness of tone, and a sudden coldness of manner, which +surprised Isabel. + +"You don't like him?" she said. + +As she spoke, Felix stopped to give audience to one of the grooms, who +had apparently been sent with a message to him. He turned so that +his face was once more visible to Isabel. Moody pressed her hand +significantly as it rested on his arm. + +"Look well at that man," he whispered. "It's time to warn you. Mr. Felix +Sweetsir is the worst enemy you have!" + +Isabel heard him in speechless astonishment. He went on in tones that +trembled with suppressed emotion. + +"You doubt if Sharon knows the thief. You doubt if I know the thief. +Isabel! as certainly as the heaven is above us, there stands the wretch +who stole the bank-note!" + +She drew her hand out of his arm with a cry of terror. She looked at him +as if she doubted whether he was in his right mind. + +He took her hand, and waited a moment trying to compose himself. + +"Listen to me," he said. "At the first consultation I had with Sharon he +gave this advice to Mr. Troy and to me. He said, 'Suspect the very last +person on whom suspicion could possibly fall.' Those words, taken with +the questions he had asked before he pronounced his opinion, struck +through me as if he had struck me with a knife. I instantly suspected +Lady Lydiard's nephew. Wait! From that time to this I have said nothing +of my suspicion to any living soul. I knew in my own heart that it +took its rise in the inveterate dislike that I have always felt for Mr. +Sweetsir, and I distrusted it accordingly. But I went back to Sharon, +for all that, and put the case into his hands. His investigations +informed me that Mr. Sweetsir owed 'debts of honor' (as gentlemen call +them), incurred through lost bets, to a large number of persons, and +among them a bet of five hundred pounds lost to Mr. Hardyman. Further +inquiries showed that Mr. Hardyman had taken the lead in declaring that +he would post Mr. Sweetsir as a defaulter, and have him turned out of +his clubs, and turned out of the betting-ring. Ruin stared him in the +face if he failed to pay his debt to Mr. Hardyman on the last day left +to him--the day after the note was lost. On that very morning, Lady +Lydiard, speaking to me of her nephew's visit to her, said, 'If I had +given him an opportunity of speaking, Felix would have borrowed money +of me; I saw it in his face.' One moment more, Isabel. I am not only +certain that Mr. Sweetsir took the five-hundred pound note out of the +open letter, I am firmly persuaded that he is the man who told Lord +Rotherfield of the circumstances under which you left Lady Lydiard's +house. Your marriage to Mr. Hardyman might have put you in a position to +detect the theft. You, not I, might, in that case, have discovered from +your husband that the stolen note was the note with which Mr. Sweetsir +paid his debt. He came here, you may depend on it, to make sure that he +had succeeded in destroying your prospects. A more depraved villain at +heart than that man never swung from a gallows!" + +He checked himself at those words. The shock of the disclosure, the +passion and vehemence with which he spoke, overwhelmed Isabel. She +trembled like a frightened child. + +While he was still trying to soothe and reassure her, a low whining +made itself heard at her feet. They looked down, and saw Tommie. Finding +himself noticed at last, he expressed his sense of relief by a bark. +Something dropped out of his mouth. As Moody stooped to pick it up, the +dog ran to Isabel and pushed his head against her feet, as his way was +when he expected to have the handkerchief thrown over him, preparatory +to one of those games at hide-and-seek which have been already +mentioned. Isabel put out her hand to caress him, when she was stopped +by a cry from Moody. It was _his_ turn to tremble now. His voice +faltered as he said the words, "The dog has found the pocketbook!" + +He opened the book with shaking hands. A betting-book was bound up in +it, with the customary calendar. He turned to the date of the day after +the robbery. + +There was the entry: "Felix Sweetsir. Paid 500 pounds. Note numbered, N +8, 70564; dated 15th May, 1875." + +Moody took from his waistcoat pocket his own memorandum of the number +of the lost bank-note. "Read it Isabel," he said. "I won't trust my +memory." + +She read it. The number and date of the note entered in the pocketbook +exactly corresponded with the number and date of the note that Lady +Lydiard had placed in her letter. + +Moody handed the pocketbook to Isabel. "There is the proof of your +innocence," he said, "thanks to the dog! Will you write and tell Mr. +Hardyman what has happened?" he asked, with his head down and his eyes +on the ground. + +She answered him, with the bright color suddenly flowing over her face. + +"_You_ shall write to him," she said, "when the time comes." + +"What time?" he asked. + +She threw her arms round his neck, and hid her face on his bosom. + +"The time," she whispered, "when I am your wife." + +A low growl from Tommie reminded them that he too had some claim to be +noticed. + +Isabel dropped on her knees, and saluted her old playfellow with +the heartiest kisses she had ever given him since the day when their +acquaintance began. "You darling!" she said, as she put him down again, +"what can I do to reward you?" + +Tommie rolled over on his back--more slowly than usual, in consequence +of his luncheon in the tent. He elevated his four paws in the air and +looked lazily at Isabel out of his bright brown eyes. If ever a dog's +look spoke yet, Tommie's look said, "I have eaten too much; rub my +stomach." + + + + +POSTSCRIPT. + +Persons of a speculative turn of mind are informed that the following +document is for sale, and are requested to mention what sum they will +give for it. + +"IOU, Lady Lydiard, five hundred pounds (L500), Felix Sweetsir." + +Her Ladyship became possessed of this pecuniary remittance under +circumstances which surround it with a halo of romantic interest. It was +the last communication she was destined to receive from her accomplished +nephew. There was a Note attached to it, which cannot fail to enhance +its value in the estimation of all right-minded persons who assist the +circulation of paper money. + +The lines that follow are strictly confidential: + +"Note.--Our excellent Moody informs me, my dear aunt, that you have +decided (against his advice) on 'refusing to prosecute.' I have not +the slightest idea of what he means; but I am very much obliged to +him, nevertheless, for reminding me of a circumstance which is of some +interest to yourself personally. + +"I am on the point of retiring to the Continent in search of health. +One generally forgets something important when one starts on a journey. +Before Moody called, I had entirely forgotten to mention that I had the +pleasure of borrowing five hundred pounds of you some little time since. + +"On the occasion to which I refer, your language and manner suggested +that you would not lend me the money if I asked for it. Obviously, the +only course left was to take it without asking. I took it while Moody +was gone to get some curacoa; and I returned to the picture-gallery in +time to receive that delicious liqueur from the footman's hands. + +"You will naturally ask why I found it necessary to supply myself (if I +may borrow an expression from the language of State finance) with this +'forced loan.' I was actuated by motives which I think do me honor. My +position at the time was critical in the extreme. My credit with the +money-lenders was at an end; my friends had all turned their backs on +me. I must either take the money or disgrace my family. If there is a +man living who is sincerely attached to his family, I am that man. I +took the money. + +"Conceive your position as my aunt (I say nothing of myself), if I had +adopted the other alternative. Turned out of the Jockey Club, turned +out of Tattersalls', turned out of the betting-ring; in short, posted +publicly as a defaulter before the noblest institution in England, the +Turf--and all for want of five hundred pounds to stop the mouth of +the greatest brute I know of, Alfred Hardyman! Let me not harrow your +feelings (and mine) by dwelling on it. Dear and admirable woman! To +you belongs the honor of saving the credit of the family; I can claim +nothing but the inferior merit of having offered you the opportunity. + +"My IOU, it is needless to say, accompanies these lines. Can I do +anything for you abroad?--F. S." + + +To this it is only necessary to add (first) that Moody was perfectly +right in believing F. S. to be the person who informed Hardyman's father +of Isabel's position when she left Lady Lydiard's house; and (secondly) +that Felix did really forward Mr. Troy's narrative of the theft to +the French police, altering nothing in it but the number of the lost +bank-note. + + +What is there left to write about? Nothing is left--but to say good-by +(very sorrowfully on the writer's part) to the Persons of the Story. + +Good-by to Miss Pink--who will regret to her dying day that Isabel's +answer to Hardyman was No. + +Good-by to Lady Lydiard--who differs with Miss Pink, and would have +regretted it, to _her_ dying day, if the answer had been Yes. + +Good-by to Moody and Isabel--whose history has closed with the closing +of the clergyman's book on their wedding-day. + +Good-by to Hardyman--who has sold his farm and his horses, and has begun +a new life among the famous fast trotters of America. + +Good-by to Old Sharon--who, a martyr to his promise, brushed his hair +and washed his face in honor of Moody's marriage; and catching a +severe cold as the necessary consequence, declared, in the intervals of +sneezing, that he would "never do it again." + +And last, not least, good-by to Tommie? No. The writer gave Tommie his +dinner not half an hour since, and is too fond of him to say good-by. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Lady's Money, by Wilkie Collins + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY LADY'S MONEY *** + +***** This file should be named 1628.txt or 1628.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/2/1628/ + +Produced by James Rusk and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Italics are +indicated by underscores.] + + + + + +MY LADY'S MONEY + +by Wilkie Collins + + + + +AN EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF A YOUNG GIRL + +PERSONS OF THE STORY + + +Women + + +Lady Lydiard (Widow of Lord Lydiard) +Isabel Miller (her Adopted Daughter) +Miss Pink (of South Morden) +The Hon. Mrs. Drumblade (Sister to the Hon. A. Hardyman) + + +Men + +The Hon. Alfred Hardyman (of the Stud Farm) +Mr. Felix Sweetsir (Lady Lydiard's Nephew) +Robert Moody (Lady Lydiard's Steward) +Mr. Troy (Lady Lydiard's Lawyer) +Old Sharon (in the Byways of Legal Bohemia) + + +Animal + +Tommie (Lady Lydiard's Dog) + + + + +PART THE FIRST. + +THE DISAPPEARANCE. + +CHAPTER I. + +OLD Lady Lydiard sat meditating by the fireside, with three +letters lying open on her lap. + +Time had discolored the paper, and had turned the ink to a +brownish hue. The letters were all addressed to the same +person--"THE RT. HON. LORD LYDIARD"--and were all signed in the +same way--"Your affectionate cousin, James Tollmidge." Judged by +these specimens of his correspondence, Mr. Tollmidge must have +possessed one great merit as a letter-writer--the merit of +brevity. He will weary nobody's patience, if he is allowed to +have a hearing. Let him, therefore, be permitted, in his own +high-flown way, to speak for himself. + +_First Letter._--"My statement, as your Lordship requests, shall +be short and to the point. I was doing very well as a +portrait-painter in the country; and I had a wife and children to +consider. Under the circumstances, if I had been left to decide +for myself, I should certainly have waited until I had saved a +little money before I ventured on the serious expense of taking a +house and studio at the west end of London. Your Lordship, I +positively declare, encouraged me to try the experiment without +waiting. And here I am, unknown and unemployed, a helpless artist +lost in London--with a sick wife and hungry children, and +bankruptcy staring me in the face. On whose shoulders does this +dreadful responsibility rest? On your Lordship's!" + +_Second Letter._--"After a week's delay, you favor me, my Lord, +with a curt reply. I can be equally curt on my side. I +indignantly deny that I or my wife ever presumed to see your +Lordship's name as a means of recommendation to sitters without +your permission. Some enemy has slandered us. I claim as my right +to know the name of that enemy." + +_Third (and last) Letter._--"Another week has passed--and not a +word of answer has reached me from your Lordship. It matters +little. I have employed the interval in making inquiries, and I +have at last discovered the hostile influence which has estranged +you from me. I have been, it seems, so unfortunate as to offend +Lady Lydiard (how, I cannot imagine); and the all-powerful +influence of this noble lady is now used against the struggling +artist who is united to you by the sacred ties of kindred. Be it +so. I can fight my way upwards, my Lord, as other men have done +before me. A day may yet come when the throng of carriages +waiting at the door of the fashionable portrait-painter will +include her Ladyship's vehicle, and bring me the tardy expression +of her Ladyship's regret. I refer you, my Lord Lydiard, to that +day!" + +Having read Mr. Tollmidge's formidable assertions relating to +herself for the second time, Lady Lydiard's meditations came to +an abrupt end. She rose, took the letters in both hands to tear +them up, hesitated, and threw them back in the cabinet drawer in +which she had discovered them, among other papers that had not +been arranged since Lord Lydiard's death. + +"The idiot!" said her Ladyship, thinking of Mr. Tollmidge, "I +never even heard of him, in my husband's lifetime; I never even +knew that he was really related to Lord Lydiard, till I found his +letters. What is to be done next?" + +She looked, as she put that question to herself, at an open +newspaper thrown on the table, which announced the death of "that +accomplished artist Mr. Tollmidge, related, it is said, to the +late well-known connoisseur, Lord Lydiard." In the next sentence +the writer of the obituary notice deplored the destitute +condition of Mrs. Tollmidge and her children, "thrown helpless on +the mercy of the world." Lady Lydiard stood by the table with her +eyes on those lines, and saw but too plainly the direction in +which they pointed--the direction of her check-book. + +Turning towards the fireplace, she rang the bell. "I can do +nothing in this matter," she thought to herself, "until I know +whether the report about Mrs. Tollmidge and her family is to be +depended on. Has Moody come back?" she asked, when the servant +appeared at the door. "Moody" (otherwise her Ladyship's steward) +had not come back. Lady Lydiard dismissed the subject of the +artist's widow from further consideration until the steward +returned, and gave her mind to a question of domestic interest +which lay nearer to her heart. Her favorite dog had been ailing +for some time past, and no report of him had reached her that +morning. She opened a door near the fireplace, which led, through +a little corridor hung with rare prints, to her own boudoir. +"Isabel!" she called out, "how is Tommie?" + +A fresh young voice answered from behind the curtain which closed +the further end of the corridor, "No better, my Lady." + +A low growl followed the fresh young voice, and added (in dog's +language), "Much worse, my Lady--much worse!" + +Lady Lydiard closed the door again, with a compassionate sigh for +Tommie, and walked slowly to and fro in her spacious +drawing-room, waiting for the steward's return. + +Accurately described, Lord Lydiard's widow was short and fat, +and, in the matter of age, perilously near her sixtieth birthday. +But it may be said, without paying a compliment, that she looked +younger than her age by ten years at least. Her complexion was of +that delicate pink tinge which is sometimes seen in old women +with well-preserved constitutions. Her eyes (equally well +preserved) were of that hard light blue color which wears well, +and does not wash out when tried by the test of tears. Add to +this her short nose, her plump cheeks that set wrinkles at +defiance, her white hair dressed in stiff little curls; and, if a +doll could grow old, Lady Lydiard, at sixty, would have been the +living image of that doll, taking life easily on its journey +downwards to the prettiest of tombs, in a burial-ground where the +myrtles and roses grew all the year round. + +These being her Ladyship's personal merits, impartial history +must acknowledge, on the list of her defects, a total want of +tact and taste in her attire. The lapse of time since Lord +Lydiard's death had left her at liberty to dress as she pleased. +She arrayed her short, clumsy figure in colors that were far too +bright for a woman of her ages. Her dresses, badly chosen as to +their hues, were perhaps not badly made, but were certainly badly +worn. Morally, as well as physically, it must be said of Lady +Lydiard that her outward side was her worst side. The anomalies +of her dress were matched by the anomalies of her character. +There were moments when she felt and spoke as became a lady of +rank; and there were other moments when she felt and spoke as +might have become the cook in the kitchen. Beneath these +superficial inconsistencies, the great heart, the essentially +true and generous nature of the woman, only waited the sufficient +occasion to assert themselves. In the trivial intercourse of +society she was open to ridicule on every side of her. But when a +serious emergency tried the metal of which she was really made, +the people who were loudest in laughing at her stood aghast, and +wondered what had become of the familiar companion of their +everyday lives. + +Her Ladyship's promenade had lasted but a little while, when a +man in black clothing presented himself noiselessly at the great +door which opened on the staircase. Lady Lydiard signed to him +impatiently to enter the room. + +"I have been expecting you for some time, Moody," she said. "You +look tired. Take a chair." + +The man in black bowed respectfully, and took his seat. + + +CHAPTER II. + +ROBERT MOODY was at this time nearly forty years of age. He was a +shy, quiet, dark person, with a pale, closely-shav en face, +agreeably animated by large black eyes, set deep in their orbits. +His mouth was perhaps his best feature; he had firm, well-shaped +lips, which softened on rare occasions into a particularly +winning smile. The whole look of the man, in spite of his +habitual reserve, declared him to be eminently trustworthy. His +position in Lady Lydiard's household was in no sense of the +menial sort. He acted as her almoner and secretary as well as her +steward--distributed her charities, wrote her letters on +business, paid her bills, engaged her servants, stocked her +wine-cellar, was authorized to borrow books from her library, and +was served with his meals in his own room. His parentage gave him +claims to these special favors; he was by birth entitled to rank +as a gentleman. His father had failed at a time of commercial +panic as a country banker, had paid a good dividend, and had died +in exile abroad a broken-hearted man. Robert had tried to hold +his place in the world, but adverse fortune kept him down. +Undeserved disaster followed him from one employment to another, +until he abandoned the struggle, bade a last farewell to the +pride of other days, and accepted the position considerately and +delicately offered to him in Lady Lydiard's house. He had now no +near relations living, and he had never made many friends. In the +intervals of occupation he led a lonely life in his little room. +It was a matter of secret wonder among the women in the servants' +hall, considering his personal advantages and the opportunities +which must surely have been thrown in his way, that he had never +tempted fortune in the character of a married man. Robert Moody +entered into no explanations on that subject. In his own sad and +quiet way he continued to lead his own sad and quiet life. The +women all failing, from the handsome housekeeper downward, to +make the smallest impression on him, consoled themselves by +prophetic visions of his future relations with the sex, and +predicted vindictively that "his time would come." + +"Well," said Lady Lydiard, "and what have you done?" + +"Your Ladyship seemed to be anxious about the dog," Moody +answered, in the low tone which was habitual to him. "I went +first to the veterinary surgeon. He had been called away into the +country; and--" + +Lady Lydiard waved away the conclusion of the sentence with her +hand. "Never mind the surgeon. We must find somebody else. Where +did you go next?" + +"To your Ladyship"s lawyer. Mr. Troy wished me to say that he +will have the honor of waiting on you--" + +"Pass over the lawyer, Moody. I want to know about the painter's +widow. Is it true that Mrs. Tollmidge and her family are left in +helpless poverty?" + +"Not quite true, my Lady. I have seen the clergyman of the +parish, who takes an interest in the case--" + +Lady Lydiard interrupted her steward for the third time. "Did you +mention my name?" she asked sharply. + +"Certainly not, my Lady. I followed my instructions, and +described you as a benevolent person in search of cases of real +distress. It is quite true that Mr. Tollmidge has died, leaving +nothing to his family. But the widow has a little income of +seventy pounds in her own right." + +"Is that enough to live on, Moody?" her Ladyship asked. + +"Enough, in this case, for the widow and her daughter," Moody +answered. "The difficulty is to pay the few debts left standing, +and to start the two sons in life. They are reported to be steady +lads; and the family is much respected in the neighborhood. The +clergyman proposes to get a few influential names to begin with, +and to start a subscription." + +"No subscription!" protested Lady Lydiard. "Mr. Tollmidge was +Lord Lydiard's cousin; and Mrs. Tollmidge is related to his +Lordship by marriage. It would be degrading to my husband's +memory to have the begging-box sent round for his relations, no +matter how distant they may be. Cousins!" exclaimed her Ladyship, +suddenly descending from the lofty ranges of sentiment to the +low. "I hate the very name of them! A person who is near enough +to me to be my relation and far enough off from me to be my +sweetheart, is a double-faced sort of person that I don't like. +Let's get back to the widow and her sons. How much do they want?" + +"A subscription of five hundred pounds, my Lady, would provide +for everything--if it could only be collected." + +"It _shall_ be collected, Moody! I will pay the subscription out +of my own purse." Having asserted herself in those noble terms, +she spoilt the effect of her own outburst of generosity by +dropping to the sordid view of the subject in her next sentence. +"Five hundred pounds is a good bit of money, though; isn't it, +Moody?" + +"It is, indeed, my Lady." Rich and generous as he knew his +mistress to be, her proposal to pay the whole subscription took +the steward by surprise. Lady Lydiard's quick perception +instantly detected what was passing in his mind. + +"You don't quite understand my position in this matter," she +said. "When I read the newspaper notice of Mr. Tollmidge's death, +I searched among his Lordship's papers to see if they really were +related. I discovered some letters from Mr. Tollmidge, which +showed me that he and Lord Lydiard were cousins. One of those +letters contains some very painful statements, reflecting most +untruly and unjustly on my conduct; lies, in short," her Ladyship +burst out, losing her dignity, as usual. "Lies, Moody, for which +Mr. Tollmidge deserved to be horsewhipped. I would have done it +myself if his Lordship had told me at the time. No matter; it's +useless to dwell on the thing now," she continued, ascending +again to the forms of expression which became a lady of rank. +"This unhappy man has done me a gross injustice; my motives may +be seriously misjudged, if I appear personally in communicating +with his family. If I relieve them anonymously in their present +trouble, I spare them the exposure of a public subscription, and +I do what I believe his Lordship would have done himself if he +had lived. My desk is on the other table. Bring it here, Moody; +and let me return good for evil, while I'm in the humor for it!" + +Moody obeyed in silence. Lady Lydiard wrote a check. + +"Take that to the banker's, and bring back a five-hundred pound +note," she said. "I'll inclose it to the clergyman as coming from +'an unknown friend.' And be quick about it. I am only a fallible +mortal, Moody. Don't leave me time enough to take the stingy view +of five hundred pounds." + +Moody went out with the check. No delay was to be apprehended in +obtaining the money; the banking-house was hard by, in St. +James's Street. Left alone, Lady Lydiard decided on occupying her +mind in the generous direction by composing her anonymous letter +to the clergyman. She had just taken a sheet of note-paper from +her desk, when a servant appeared at the door announcing a +visitor-- + +"Mr. Felix Sweetsir!" + + +CHAPTER III. + +"MY nephew!" Lady Lydiard exclaimed in a tone which expressed +astonishment, but certainly not pleasure as well. "How many years +is it since you and I last met?" she asked, in her abruptly +straightforward way, as Mr. Felix Sweetsir approached her +writing-table. + +The visitor was not a person easily discouraged. He took Lady +Lydiard's hand, and kissed it with easy grace. A shade of irony +was in his manner, agreeably relieved by a playful flash of +tenderness. + +"Years, my dear aunt?" he said. "Look in your glass and you will +see that time has stood still since we met last. How wonderfully +well you wear! When shall we celebrate the appearance of your +first wrinkle? I am too old; I shall never live to see it." + +He took an easychair, uninvited; placed himself close at his +aunt's side, and ran his eye over her ill-chosen dress with an +air of satirical admiration. "How perfectly successful!" he said, +with his well-bred insolence. "What a chaste gayety of color!" + +"What do you want?" asked her Ladyship, not in the least softened +by the compliment. + +"I want to pay my respects to my dear aunt," Felix answered, +perfectly impenetrable to his ungracious reception, and perfectly +comfortable in a spacious arm-chair. + +No pen-and-ink portrait need surely be drawn of Felix +Sweetsir--he is too well-known a picture in society. The little +lith e man, with his bright, restless eyes, and his long +iron-gray hair falling in curls to his shoulders, his airy step +and his cordial manner; his uncertain age, his innumerable +accomplishments, and his unbounded popularity--is he not familiar +everywhere, and welcome everywhere? How gratefully he receives, +how prodigally he repays, the cordial appreciation of an admiring +world! Every man he knows is "a charming fellow." Every woman he +sees is "sweetly pretty." What picnics he gives on the banks of +the Thames in the summer season! What a well-earned little income +he derives from the whist-table! What an inestimable actor he is +at private theatricals of all sorts (weddings included)! Did you +never read Sweetsir's novel, dashed off in the intervals of +curative perspiration at a German bath? Then you don't know what +brilliant fiction really is. He has never written a second work; +he does everything, and only does it once. One song--the despair +of professional composers. One picture--just to show how easily a +gentleman can take up an art and drop it again. A really +multiform man, with all the graces and all the accomplishments +scintillating perpetually at his fingers' ends. If these poor +pages have achieved nothing else, they have done a service to +persons not in society by presenting them to Sweetsir. In his +gracious company the narrative brightens; and writer and reader +(catching reflected brilliancy) understand each other at last, +thanks to Sweetsir. + +"Well," said Lady Lydiard, "now you are here, what have you got +to say for yourself? You have been abroad, of course! Where?" + +"Principally at Paris, my dear aunt. The only place that is fit +to live in--for this excellent reason, that the French are the +only people who know how to make the most of life. One has +relations and friends in England and every now and then one +returns to London--" + +"When one has spent all one's money in Paris," her Ladyship +interposed. "That's what you were going to say, isn't it?" + +Felix submitted to the interruption with his delightful +good-humor. + +"What a bright creature you are!" he exclaimed. "What would I not +give for your flow of spirits! Yes--one does spend money in +Paris, as you say. The clubs, the stock exchange, the +race-course: you try your luck here, there, and everywhere; and +you lose and win, win and lose--and you haven't a dull day to +complain of." He paused, his smile died away, he looked +inquiringly at Lady Lydiard. "What a wonderful existence yours +must be," he resumed. "The everlasting question with your needy +fellow-creatures, 'Where am I to get money?' is a question that +has never passed your lips. Enviable woman!" He paused once +more--surprised and puzzled this time. "What is the matter, my +dear aunt? You seem to be suffering under some uneasiness." + +"I am suffering under your conversation," her Ladyship answered +sharply. "Money is a sore subject with me just now," she went on, +with her eyes on her nephew, watching the effect of what she +said. "I have spent five hundred pounds this morning with a +scrape of my pen. And, only a week since, I yielded to temptation +and made an addition to my picture-gallery." She looked, as she +said those words, towards an archway at the further end of the +room, closed by curtains of purple velvet. "I really tremble when +I think of what that one picture cost me before I could call it +mine. A landscape by Hobbema; and the National Gallery bidding +against me. Never mind!" she concluded, consoling herself, as +usual, with considerations that were beneath her. "Hobbema will +sell at my death for a bigger price than I gave for him--that's +one comfort!" She looked again at Felix; a smile of mischievous +satisfaction began to show itself in her face. "Anything wrong +with your watch-chain?" she asked. + +Felix, absently playing with his watch-chain, started as if his +aunt had suddenly awakened him. While Lady Lydiard had been +speaking, his vivacity had subsided little by little, and had +left him looking so serious and so old that his most intimate +friend would hardly have known him again. Roused by the sudden +question that had been put to him, he seemed to be casting about +in his mind in search of the first excuse for his silence that +might turn up. + +"I was wondering," he began, "why I miss something when I look +round this beautiful room; something familiar, you know, that I +fully expected to find here." + +"Tommie?" suggested Lady Lydiard, still watching her nephew as +maliciously as ever. + +"That's it!" cried Felix, seizing his excuse, and rallying his +spirits. "Why don't I hear Tommie snarling behind me; why don't I +feel Tommie's teeth in my trousers?" + +The smile vanished from Lady Lydiard's face; the tone taken by +her nephew in speaking of her dog was disrespectful in the +extreme. She showed him plainly that she disapproved of it. Felix +went on, nevertheless, impenetrable to reproof of the silent +sort. "Dear little Tommie! So delightfully fat; and such an +infernal temper! I don't know whether I hate him or love him. +Where is he?" + +"Ill in bed," answered her ladyship, with a gravity which +startled even Felix himself. "I wish to speak to you about +Tommie. You know everybody. Do you know of a good dog-doctor? The +person I have employed so far doesn't at all satisfy me." + +"Professional person?" inquired Felix. + +"Yes." + +"All humbugs, my dear aunt. The worse the dog gets the bigger the +bill grows, don't you see? I have got the man for you--a +gentleman. Knows more about horses and dogs than all the +veterinary surgeons put together. We met in the boat yesterday +crossing the Channel. You know him by name, of course? Lord +Rotherfield's youngest son, Alfred Hardyman." + +"The owner of the stud farm? The man who has bred the famous +racehorses?" cried Lady Lydiard. "My dear Felix, how can I +presume to trouble such a great personage about my dog?" + +Felix burst into his genial laugh. "Never was modesty more +woefully out of place," he rejoined. "Hardyman is dying to be +presented to your Ladyship. He has heard, like everybody, of the +magnificent decorations of this house, and he is longing to see +them. His chambers are close by, in Pall Mall. If he is at home +we will have him here in five minutes. Perhaps I had better see +the dog first?" + +Lady Lydiard shook her head. "Isabel says he had better not be +disturbed," she answered. "Isabel understands him better than +anybody." + +Felix lifted his lively eyebrows with a mixed expression of +curiosity and surprise. "Who is Isabel?" + +Lady Lydiard was vexed with herself for carelessly mentioning +Isabel's name in her nephew's presence. Felix was not the sort of +person whom she was desirous of admitting to her confidence in +domestic matters. "Isabel is an addition to my household since +you were here last," she answered shortly. + +"Young and pretty?" inquired Felix. "Ah! you look serious, and +you don't answer me. Young and pretty, evidently. Which may I see +first, the addition to your household or the addition to your +picture-gallery? You look at the picture-gallery--I am answered +again." He rose to approach the archway, and stopped at his first +step forward. "A sweet girl is a dreadful responsibility, aunt," +he resumed, with an ironical assumption of gravity. "Do you know, +I shouldn't be surprised if Isabel, in the long run, cost you +more than Hobbema. Who is this at the door?" + +The person at the door was Robert Moody, returned from the bank. +Mr. Felix Sweetsir, being near-sighted, was obliged to fit his +eye-glass in position before he could recognize the prime +minister of Lady Lydiard's household. + +"Ha! our worthy Moody. How well he wears! Not a gray hair on his +head--and look at mine! What dye do you use, Moody? If he had my +open disposition he would tell. As it is, he looks unutterable +things, and holds his tongue. Ah! if I could only have held _my_ +tongue--when I was in the diplomatic service, you know--what a +position I might have occupied by this time! Don't let me +interrupt you, Moody, if you have anything to say to Lady +Lydiard." + +Having acknowledged Mr. Sweetsir's lively greeting by a formal +bow, and a grave look of wonder which respectfully repelled that +vivacious gentleman's flow of humor, Moody turned + towards his mistress. + +"Have you got the bank-note?" asked her Ladyship. + +Moody laid the bank-note on the table. + +"Am I in the way?" inquired Felix. + +"No," said his aunt. "I have a letter to write; it won't occupy +me for more than a few minutes. You can stay here, or go and look +at the Hobbema, which you please." + +Felix made a second sauntering attempt to reach the +picture-gallery. Arrived within a few steps of the entrance, he +stopped again, attracted by an open cabinet of Italian +workmanship, filled with rare old china. Being nothing if not a +cultivated amateur, Mr. Sweetsir paused to pay his passing +tribute of admiration before the contents of the cabinet. +"Charming! charming!" he said to himself, with his head twisted +appreciatively a little on one side. Lady Lydiard and Moody left +him in undisturbed enjoyment of the china, and went on with the +business of the bank-note. + +"Ought we to take the number of the note, in case of accident?" +asked her Ladyship. + +Moody produced a slip of paper from his waistcoat pocket. "I took +the number, my Lady, at the bank." + +"Very well. You keep it. While I am writing my letter, suppose +you direct the envelope. What is the clergyman's name?" + +Moody mentioned the name and directed the envelope. Felix, +happening to look round at Lady Lydiard and the steward while +they were both engaged in writing, returned suddenly to the table +as if he had been struck by a new idea. + +"Is there a third pen?" he asked. "Why shouldn't I write a line +at once to Hardyman, aunt? The sooner you have his opinion about +Tommie the better--don't you think so?" + +Lady Lydiard pointed to the pen tray, with a smile. To show +consideration for her dog was to seize irresistibly on the +high-road to her favor. Felix set to work on his letter, in a +large scrambling handwriting, with plenty of ink and a noisy pen. +"I declare we are like clerks in an office," he remarked, in his +cheery way. "All with our noses to the paper, writing as if we +lived by it! Here, Moody, let one of the servants take this at +once to Mr. Hardyman's." + +The messenger was despatched. Robert returned, and waited near +his mistress, with the directed envelope in his hand. Felix +sauntered back slowly towards the picture-gallery, for the third +time. In a moment more Lady Lydiard finished her letter, and +folded up the bank-note in it. She had just taken the directed +envelope from Moody, and had just placed the letter inside it, +when a scream from the inner room, in which Isabel was nursing +the sick dog, startled everybody. "My Lady! my Lady!" cried the +girl, distractedly, "Tommie is in a fit? Tommie is dying!" + +Lady Lydiard dropped the unclosed envelope on the table, and +ran--yes, short as she was and fat as she was, ran--into the +inner room. The two men, left together, looked at each other. + +"Moody," said Felix, in his lazily-cynical way, "do you think if +you or I were in a fit that her Ladyship would run? Bah! these +are the things that shake one's faith in human nature. I feel +infernally seedy. That cursed Channel passage--I tremble in my +inmost stomach when I think of it. Get me something, Moody." + +"What shall I send you, sir?" Moody asked coldly. + +"Some dry curacoa and a biscuit. And let it be brought to me in +the picture-gallery. Damn the dog! I'll go and look at Hobbema." + +This time he succeeded in reaching the archway, and disappeared +behind the curtains of the picture-gallery. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +LEFT alone in the drawing-room, Moody looked at the unfastened +envelope on the table. + +Considering the value of the inclosure, might he feel justified +in wetting the gum and securing the envelope for safety's sake? +After thinking it over, Moody decided that he was not justified +in meddling with the letter. On reflection, her Ladyship might +have changes to make in it or might have a postscript to add to +what she had already written. Apart too, from these +considerations, was it reasonable to act as if Lady Lydiard's +house was a hotel, perpetually open to the intrusion of +strangers? Objects worth twice five hundred pounds in the +aggregate were scattered about on the tables and in the unlocked +cabinets all round him. Moody withdrew, without further +hesitation, to order the light restorative prescribed for himself +by Mr. Sweetsir. + +The footman who took the curacoa into the picture gallery found +Felix recumbent on a sofa, admiring the famous Hobbema. + +"Don't interrupt me," he said peevishly, catching the servant in +the act of staring at him. "Put down the bottle and go!" +Forbidden to look at Mr. Sweetsir, the man's eyes as he left the +gallery turned wonderingly towards the famous landscape. And what +did he see? He saw one towering big cloud in the sky that +threatened rain, two withered mahogany-colored trees sorely in +want of rain, a muddy road greatly the worse for rain, and a +vagabond boy running home who was afraid of the rain. That was +the picture, to the footman's eye. He took a gloomy view of the +state of Mr. Sweetsir's brains on his return to the servants' +hall. "A slate loose, poor devil!" That was the footman's report +of the brilliant Felix. + +Immediately on the servant's departure, the silence in the +picture-gallery was broken by voices penetrating into it from the +drawing-room. Felix rose to a sitting position on the sofa. He +had recognized the voice of Alfred Hardyman saying, "Don't +disturb Lady Lydiard," and the voice of Moody answering, "I will +just knock at the door of her Ladyship's room, sir; you will find +Mr. Sweetsir in the picture-gallery." + +The curtains over the archway parted, and disclosed the figure of +a tall man, with a closely cropped head set a little stiffly on +his shoulders. The immovable gravity of face and manner which +every Englishman seems to acquire who lives constantly in the +society of horses, was the gravity which this gentleman displayed +as he entered the picture-gallery. He was a finely made, sinewy +man, with clearly cut, regular features. If he had not been +affected with horses on the brain he would doubtless have been +personally popular with the women. As it was, the serene and +hippic gloom of the handsome horse-breeder daunted the daughters +of Eve, and they failed to make up their minds about the exact +value of him, socially considered. Alfred Hardyman was +nevertheless a remarkable man in his way. He had been offered the +customary alternatives submitted to the younger sons of the +nobility--the Church or the diplomatic service--and had refused +the one and the other. "I like horses," he said, "and I mean to +get my living out of them. Don't talk to me about my position in +the world. Talk to my eldest brother, who gets the money and the +title." Starting in life with these sensible views, and with a +small capital of five thousand pounds, Hardyman took his own +place in the sphere that was fitted for him. At the period of +this narrative he was already a rich man, and one of the greatest +authorities on horse-breeding in England. His prosperity made no +change in him. He was always the same grave, quiet, obstinately +resolute man--true to the few friends whom he admitted to his +intimacy, and sincere to a fault in the expression of his +feelings among persons whom he distrusted or disliked. As he +entered the picture-gallery and paused for a moment looking at +Felix on the sofa, his large, cold, steady gray eyes rested on +the little man with an indifference that just verged on contempt. +Felix, on the other hand, sprang to his feet with alert +politeness and greeted his friend with exuberant cordiality. + +"Dear old boy! This is so good of you," he began. "I feel it--I +do assure you I feel it!" + +"You needn't trouble yourself to feel it," was the +quietly-ungracious answer. "Lady Lydiard brings me here. I come +to see the house--and the dog." He looked round the gallery in +his gravely attentive way. "I don't understand pictures," he +remarked resignedly. "I shall go back to the drawing-room." + +After a moment's consideration, Felix followed him into the +drawing-room, with the air of a man who was determined not to be +repelled. + +"Well?" asked Hardyman. "What is it?" + +"About that matter?" Felix said, inquiringly. + +"What matter?" + +"Oh, you know. Will next week do?" + +"Nex t week _won't_ do." + +Mr. Felix Sweetsir cast one look at his friend. His friend was +too intently occupied with the decorations of the drawing-room to +notice the look. + +"Will to-morrow do?" Felix resumed, after an interval. + +"Yes." + +"At what time?" + +"Between twelve and one in the afternoon." + +"Between twelve and one in the afternoon," Felix repeated. He +looked again at Hardyman and took his hat. "Make my apologies to +my aunt," he said. "You must introduce yourself to her Ladyship. +I can't wait here any longer." He walked out of the room, having +deliberately returned the contemptuous indifference of Hardyman +by a similar indifference on his own side, at parting. + +Left by himself, Hardyman took a chair and glanced at the door +which led into the boudoir. The steward had knocked at that door, +had disappeared through it, and had not appeared again. How much +longer was Lady Lydiard's visitor to be left unnoticed in Lady +Lydiard's house? + +As the question passed through his mind the boudoir door opened. +For once in his life, Alfred Hardyman's composure deserted him. +He started to his feet, like an ordinary mortal taken completely +by surprise + +Instead of Mr. Moody, instead of Lady Lydiard, there appeared in +the open doorway a young woman in a state of embarrassment, who +actually quickened the beat of Mr. Hardyman's heart the moment he +set eyes on her. Was the person who produced this amazing +impression at first sight a person of importance? Nothing of the +sort. She was only "Isabel" surnamed "Miller." Even her name had +nothing in it. Only "Isabel Miller!" + +Had she any pretensions to distinction in virtue of her personal +appearance? + +It is not easy to answer the question. The women (let us put the +worst judges first) had long since discovered that she wanted +that indispensable elegance of figure which is derived from +slimness of waist and length of limb. The men (who were better +acquainted with the subject) looked at her figure from their +point of view; and, finding it essentially embraceable, asked for +nothing more. It might have been her bright complexion or it +might have been the bold luster of her eyes (as the women +considered it), that dazzled the lords of creation generally, and +made them all alike incompetent to discover her faults. Still, +she had compensating attractions which no severity of criticism +could dispute. Her smile, beginning at her lips, flowed brightly +and instantly over her whole face. A delicious atmosphere of +health, freshness, and good humor seemed to radiate from her +wherever she went and whatever she did. For the rest her brown +hair grew low over her broad white forehead, and was topped by a +neat little lace cap with ribbons of a violet color. A plain +collar and plain cuffs encircled her smooth, round neck, and her +plump dimpled hands. Her merino dress, covering but not hiding +the charming outline of her bosom, matched the color of the +cap-ribbons, and was brightened by a white muslin apron +coquettishly trimmed about the pockets, a gift from Lady Lydiard. +Blushing and smiling, she let the door fall to behind her, and, +shyly approaching the stranger, said to him, in her small, clear +voice, "If you please, sir, are you Mr. Hardyman?" + +The gravity of the great horse-breeder deserted him at her first +question. He smiled as he acknowledged that he was "Mr. +Hardyman"--he smiled as he offered her a chair. + +"No, thank you, sir," she said, with a quaintly pretty +inclination of her head. "I am only sent here to make her +Ladyship's apologies. She has put the poor dear dog into a warm +bath, and she can't leave him. And Mr. Moody can't come instead +of me, because I was too frightened to be of any use, and so he +had to hold the dog. That's all. We are very anxious sir, to know +if the warm bath is the right thing. Please come into the room +and tell us." + +She led the way back to the door. Hardyman, naturally enough, was +slow to follow her. When a man is fascinated by the charm of +youth and beauty, he is in no hurry to transfer his attention to +a sick animal in a bath. Hardyman seized on the first excuse that +he could devise for keeping Isabel to himself--that is to say, +for keeping her in the drawing-room. + +"I think I shall be better able to help you," he said, "if you +will tell me something about the dog first." + +Even his accent in speaking had altered to a certain degree. The +quiet, dreary monotone in which he habitually spoke quickened a +little under his present excitement. As for Isabel, she was too +deeply interested in Tommie's welfare to suspect that she was +being made the victim of a stratagem. She left the door and +returned to Hardyman with eager eyes. "What can I tell you, sir?" +she asked innocently. + +Hardyman pressed his advantage without mercy. + +"You can tell me what sort of dog he is?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"How old he is?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"What his name is?--what his temper is?--what his illness is? +what diseases his father and mother had?--what--" + +Isabel's head began to turn giddy. "One thing at a time, sir!" +she interposed, with a gesture of entreaty. "The dog sleeps on my +bed, and I had a bad night with him, he disturbed me so, and I am +afraid I am very stupid this morning. His name is Tommie. We are +obliged to call him by it, because he won't answer to any other +than the name he had when my Lady bought him. But we spell it +with an _i e_ at the end, which makes it less vulgar than Tommy +with a _y_. I am very sorry, sir--I forget what else you wanted +to know. Please to come in here and my Lady will tell you +everything." + +She tried to get back to the door of the boudoir. Hardyman, +feasting his eyes on the pretty, changeful face that looked up at +him with such innocent confidence in his authority, drew her away +from the door by the one means at his disposal. He returned to +his questions about Tommie. + +"Wait a little, please. What sort of dog is he?" + +Isabel turned back again from the door. To describe Tommie was a +labor of love. "He is the most beautiful dog in the world!" the +girl began, with kindling eyes. "He has the most exquisite white +curly hair and two light brown patches on his back--and, oh! +_such_ lovely dark eyes! They call him a Scotch terrier. When he +is well his appetite is truly wonderful--nothing comes amiss to +him, sir, from pate de foie gras to potatoes. He has his enemies, +poor dear, though you wouldn't think it. People who won't put up +with being bitten by him (what shocking tempers one does meet +with, to be sure!) call him a mongrel. Isn't it a shame? Please +come in and see him, sir; my Lady will be tired of waiting." + +Another journey to the door followed those words, checked +instantly by a serious objection. + +"Stop a minute! You must tell me what his temper is, or I can do +nothing for him." + +Isabel returned once more, feeling that it was really serious +this time. Her gravity was even more charming than her gayety. As +she lifted her face to him, with large solemn eyes, expressive of +her sense of responsibility, Hardyman would have given every +horse in his stables to have had the privilege of taking her in +his arms and kissing her. + +"Tommie has the temper of an angel with the people he likes," she +said. "When he bites, it generally means that he objects to +strangers. He loves my Lady, and he loves Mr. Moody, and he loves +me, and--and I think that's all. This way, sir, if you please, I +am sure I heard my Lady call." + +"No," said Hardyman, in his immovably obstinate way. "Nobody +called. About this dog's temper? Doesn't he take to any +strangers? What sort of people does he bite in general?" + +Isabel's pretty lips began to curl upward at the corners in a +quaint smile. Hardyman's last imbecile question had opened her +eyes to the true state of the case. Still, Tommie's future was in +this strange gentleman's hands; she felt bound to consider that. +And, moreover, it was no everyday event, in Isabel's experience, +to fascinate a famous personage, who was also a magnificent and +perfectly dressed man. She ran the risk of wasting another minute +or two, and went on with the memoirs of Tommie. + +"I must own, sir," she resumed, "that he behaves a little +ungratefully--even to strangers who take an interest in him. When +he gets lost in the streets (which is very often), he sits down +on the pavement and howls till he collects a pitying crowd round +him; and when they try to read his name and address on his collar +he snaps at them. The servants generally find him and bring him +back; and as soon as he gets home he turns round on the doorstep +and snaps at the servants. I think it must be his fun. You should +see him sitting up in his chair at dinner-time, waiting to be +helped, with his fore paws on the edge of the table, like the +hands of a gentleman at a public dinner making a speech. But, +oh!" cried Isabel, checking herself, with the tears in her eyes, +"how can I talk of him in this way when he is so dreadfully ill! +Some of them say it's bronchitis, and some say it's his liver. +Only yesterday I took him to the front door to give him a little +air, and he stood still on the pavement, quite stupefied. For the +first time in his life, he snapped at nobody who went by; and, +oh, dear, he hadn't even the heart to smell a lamp-post!" + +Isabel had barely stated this last afflicting circumstance when +the memoirs of Tommie were suddenly cut short by the voice of +Lady Lydiard--really calling this time--from the inner room. + +"Isabel! Isabel!" cried her Ladyship, "what are you about?" + +Isabel ran to the door of the boudoir and threw it open. "Go in, +sir! Pray go in!" she said. + +"Without you?" Hardyman asked. + +"I will follow you, sir. I have something to do for her Ladyship +first." + +She still held the door open, and pointed entreatingly to the +passage which led to the boudoir "I shall be blamed, sir," she +said, "if you don't go in." + +This statement of the case left Hardyman no alternative. He +presented himself to Lady Lydiard without another moment of +delay. + +Having closed the drawing-room door on him, Isabel waited a +little, absorbed in her own thoughts. + +She was now perfectly well aware of the effect which she had +produced on Hardyman. Her vanity, it is not to be denied, was +flattered by his admiration--he was so grand and so tall, and he +had such fine large eyes. The girl looked prettier than ever as +she stood with her head down and her color heightened, smiling to +herself. A clock on the chimney-piece striking the half-hour +roused her. She cast one look at the glass, as she passed it, and +went to the table at which Lady Lydiard had been writing. + +Methodical Mr. Moody, in submitting to be employed as +bath-attendant upon Tommie, had not forgotten the interests of +his mistress. He reminded her Ladyship that she had left her +letter, with a bank-note inclosed in it, unsealed. Absorbed in +the dog, Lady Lydiard answered, "Isabel is doing nothing, let +Isabel seal it. Show Mr. Hardyman in here," she continued, +turning to Isabel, "and then seal a letter of mine which you will +find on the table." "And when you have sealed it," careful Mr. +Moody added, "put it back on the table; I will take charge of it +when her Ladyship has done with me." + +Such were the special instructions which now detained Isabel in +the drawing-room. She lighted the taper, and closed and sealed +the open envelope, without feeling curiosity enough even to look +at the address. Mr. Hardyman was the uppermost subject in her +thoughts. Leaving the sealed letter on the table, she returned to +the fireplace, and studied her own charming face attentively in +the looking-glass. The time passed--and Isabel's reflection was +still the subject of Isabel's contemplation . "He must see many +beautiful ladies," she thought, veering backward and forward +between pride and humility. "I wonder what he sees in Me?" + +The clock struck the hour. Almost at the same moment the +boudoir-door opened, and Robert Moody, released at last from +attendance on Tommie, entered the drawing-room. + + +CHAPTER V. + +"WELL?" asked Isabel eagerly, "what does Mr. Hardyman say? Does +he think he can cure Tommie?" + +Moody answered a little coldly and stiffly. His dark, deeply-set +eyes rested on Isabel with an uneasy look. + +"Mr. Hardyman seems to understand animals," he said. "He lifted +the dog's eyelid and looked at his eyes, and then he told us the +bath was useless." + +"Go on!" said Isabel impatiently. "He did something, I suppose, +besides telling you that the bath was useless?" + +"He took a knife out of his pocket, with a lancet in it." + +Isabel clasped her hands with a faint cry of horror. "Oh, Mr. +Moody! did he hurt Tommie?" + +"Hurt him?" Moody repeated, indignant at the interest which she +felt in the animal, and the indifference which she exhibited +towards the man (as represented by himself). "Hurt him, indeed! +Mr. Hardyman bled the brute--" + +"Brute?" Isabel reiterated, with flashing eyes. "I know some +people, Mr. Moody, who really deserve to be called by that horrid +word. If you can't say 'Tommie,' when you speak of him in my +presence, be so good as to say 'the dog.' " + +Moody yielded with the worst possible grace. "Oh, very well! Mr. +Hardyman bled the dog, and brought him to his senses directly. I +am charged to tell you--" He stopped, as if the message which he +was instructed to deliver was in the last degree distasteful to +him. + +"Well, what were you charged to tell me?" + +"I was to say that Mr. Hardyman will give you instructions how to +treat the dog for the future." + +Isabel hastened to the door, eager to receive her instructions. +Moody stopped her before she could open it. + +"You are in a great hurry to get to Mr. Hardyman," he remarked. + +Isabel looked back at him in surprise. "You said just now that +Mr. Hardyman was waiting to tell me how to nurse Tommie." + +"Let him wait," Moody rejoined sternly. "When I left him, he was +sufficiently occupied in expressing his favorable opinion of you +to her Ladyship." + +The steward's pale face turned paler still as he said those +words. With the arrival of Isabel in Lady Lydiard's house "his +time had come"--exactly as the women in the servants' hall had +predicted. At last the impenetrable man felt the influence of the +sex; at last he knew the passion of love misplaced, ill-starred, +hopeless love, for a woman who was young enough to be his child. +He had already spoken to Isabel more than once in terms which +told his secret plainly enough. But the smouldering fire of +jealousy in the man, fanned into flame by Hardyman, now showed +itself for the first time. His looks, even more than his words, +would have warned a woman with any knowledge of the natures of +men to be careful how she answered him. Young, giddy, and +inexperienced, Isabel followed the flippant impulse of the +moment, without a thought of the consequences. "I'm sure it's +very kind of Mr. Hardyman to speak favorably of me," she said, +with a pert little laugh. "I hope you are not jealous of him, Mr. +Moody?" + +Moody was in no humor to make allowances for the unbridled gayety +of youth and good spirits. + +"I hate any man who admires you," he burst out passionately, "let +him be who he may!" + +Isabel looked at her strange lover with unaffected astonishment. +How unlike Mr. Hardyman, who had treated her as a lady from first +to last! "What an odd man you are!" she said. "You can't take a +joke. I'm sure I didn't mean to offend you." + +"You don't offend me--you do worse, you distress me." + +Isabel's color began to rise. The merriment died out of her face; +she looked at Moody gravely. "I don't like to be accused of +distressing people when I don't deserve it," she said. "I had +better leave you. Let me by, if you please." + +Having committed one error in offending her, Moody committed +another in attempting to make his peace with her. Acting under +the fear that she would really leave him, he took her roughly by +the arm. + +"You are always trying to get away from me," he said. "I wish I +knew how to make you like me, Isabel." + +"I don't allow you to call me Isabel!" she retorted, struggling +to free herself from his hold. "Let go of my arm. You hurt me." + +Moody dropped her arm with a bitter sigh. "I don't know how to +deal with you," he said simply. "Have some pity on me!" + +If the steward had known anything of women (at Isabel's age) he +would never have appealed to her mercy in those plain terms, and +at the unpropitious moment. "Pity you?" she repeated +contemptuously. "Is that all you have to say to me after hurting +my arm? What a bear you are!" She shrugged her shoulders and put +her hands coquettishly into the pockets of her apron. That was +how she pitied him! His face turned paler and paler--he writhed +under it. + +"For God"s sake, don't turn everything I say to you into +ridicule!" he cried. "You know I love you with all my heart and +soul. Again and again I have asked you to be my wife--and you +laugh at me as if it was a joke. I haven't deserved to be treated +in that cruel way. It maddens me--I can't endure it!" + +Isabel looked down on the floor, and followed the lines in the +pattern of the carpet with the end of her smart little shoe. She +could hardly have been further away from really understanding +Moody if he had spoken in Hebrew. She was partly startled, partly +puzzled, by the strong emotions which she had unconsciously +called into being. "Oh dear me!" she said, "why can't you talk of +something else? Why can't we be friends? Excuse me for mentioning +it," she went on, looking up at him with a saucy smile, "you are +old enough to be my father." + +Moody's head sank on his breast. "I own it," he answered humbly. +"But there is something to be said for me. Men as old as I am +have made good husbands before now. I would devote my whole life +to make you happy. There isn't a wish you could form which I +wouldn't be proud to obey. You mustnt reckon me by years. My +youth has not been wasted in a profligate life; I can be truer to +you and fonder of you than many a younger man. Surely my heart is +not quite unworthy of you, when it is all yours. I have lived +such a lonely, miserable life--and you might so easily brighten +it. You are kind to everybody else, Isabel. Tell me, dear, why +are you so hard on _me?_" + +His voice trembled as he appealed to her in those simple words. +He had taken the right way at last to produce an impression on +her. She really felt for him. All that was true and tender in her +nature began to rise in her and take his part. Unhappily, he felt +too deeply and too strongly to be patient, and give her time. He +completely misinterpreted her silence--completely mistook the +motive that made her turn aside for a moment, to gather composure +enough to speak to him. "Ah!" he burst out bitterly, turning away +on his side, "you have no heart." + +She instantly resented those unjust words. At that moment they +wounded her to the quick. + +"You know best," she said. "I have no doubt you are right. +Remember one thing, however, that though I have no heart, I have +never encouraged you, Mr. Moody. I have declared over and over +again that I could only be your friend. Understand that for the +future, if you please. There are plenty of nice women who will be +glad to marry you, I have no doubt. You will always have my best +wishes for your welfare. Good-morning. Her Ladyship will wonder +what has become of me. Be so kind as to let me pass." + +Tortured by the passion that consumed him, Moody obstinately kept +his place between Isabel and the door. The unworthy suspicion of +her, which had been in his mind all through the interview, now +forced its way outwards to expression at last. + +"No woman ever used a man as you use me without some reason for +it," he said. "You have kept your secret wonderfully well--but +sooner or later all secrets get found out. I know what is in your +mind as well as you know it yourself. You are in love with some +other man." + +Isabel's face flushed deeply; the defensive pride of her sex was +up in arms in an instant. She cast one disdainful look at Moody, +without troubling herself to express her contempt in words. +"Stand out of my way, sir!" --that was all she said to him. + +"You are in love with some other man," he reiterated +passionately. "Deny it if you can!" + +"Deny it?" she repeated, with flashing eyes. "What right have you +to ask the question? Am I not free to do as I please?" + +He stood looking at her, meditating his next words with a sudden +and sinister change to self-restraint. Suppressed rage was in his +rigidly set eyes, suppressed rage was in his trembling hand as he +raised it emphatically while he spoke his next words. + +"I have one thing more to say," he answered, "and then I have +done. If I am not your husband, no other man shall be. Look well +to it, Isabel Miller. If there _is_ another man between us, I can +tell him this--he shall find it no easy matter to rob me of you!" + +She started, and turned pale--but it was only for a moment. The +high spirit that was in her rose brightly in her eyes, and faced +him without shrinking. + +"Threats?" she said, with quiet contempt. "When you make love, +Mr. Moody, you take strange ways of doing it. My conscience is +easy. You may try to frighten me, but you will not succeed. When +you have recovered your temper I will accept your excuses." She +paused, and pointed to the table. "There is the letter that you +told me to leave for you when I had sealed it," she went on. "I +suppose you have her Ladyship's orders. Isn't it time you began +to think of obeying them?" + +The contemptuous composure of her tone and manner seemed to act +on Moody with crushing effect. Without a word of answer, the +unfortunate steward took up the letter from the table. Without a +word of answer, he walked mechanically to the great door which +opened on the staircase--turned on the threshold to look at +Isabel--waited a moment, pale and still--and suddenly left the +room. + +That silent departure, that hopeless submission, impressed Isabel +in spite of herself. The sustaining sense of injury and insult +sank, as it were, from under her the moment she was alone. He had +not been gone a minute before she began to be sorry for him once +more. The interview had taught her nothing. She was neither old +enough nor experienced enough to understand the overwhelming +revolution produced in a man's character when he feels the +passion of love for the first time in the maturity of his life. +If Moody had stolen a kiss at the first opportunity, she would +have resented the liberty he had taken with her; but she would +have thoroughly understood him. His terrible earnestness, his +overpowering agitation, his abrupt violence--all these evidences +of a passion that was a mystery to himself--simply puzzled her. +"I'm sure I didn't wish to hurt his feelings" (such was the form +that her reflections took, in her present penitent frame of +mind); "but why did he provoke me? It is a shame to tell me that +I love some other man--when there is no other man. I declare I +begin to hate the men, if they are all like Mr. Moody. I wonder +whether he will forgive me when he sees me again? I'm sure I'm +willing to forget and forgive on my side--especially if he won't +insist on my being fond of him because he is fond of me. Oh, +dear! I wish he would come back and shake hands. It's enough to +try the patience of a saint to be treated in this way. I wish I +was ugly! The ugly ones have a quiet time of it--the men let them +be. Mr. Moody! Mr. Moody!" She went out to the landing and called +to him softly. There was no answer. He was no longer in the +house. She stood still for a moment in silent vexation. "I'll go +to Tommie!" she decided. "I'm sure he's the more agreeable +company of the two. And--oh, good gracious! there's Mr. Hardyman +waiting to give me my instructions! How do I look, I wonder?" + +She consulted the glass once more--gave one or two corrective +touches to her hair and her cap--and hastened into the boudoir. + + +CHAPTER VI. + +FOR a quarter of an hour the drawing-room remained empty. At the +end of that time the council in the boudoir broke up. Lady +Lydiard led the way back into the drawing-room, followed by +Hardyman, Isabel being left to look after the dog. Before the +door closed behind him, Hardyman turned round to reiterate his +last medical directions--or, in plainer words, to take a last +look at Isabel. + +"Plenty of water, Miss Isabel, for the dog to lap, and a little +bread or biscuit, if he wants something to eat. Nothing more, if +you please, till I see him to-morrow." + +"Thank you, sir. I will take the greatest care--" + +At that point Lady Lydiard cut short the interchange of +instructions and civilities. "Shut the door, if you please, Mr. +Hardyman. I feel the draught. Many thanks! I am really at a loss +to tell you how gratefully I feel your kindness. But for you my +poor little dog might be dead by this time." + +Hardyman answered, in the quiet melancholy monotone which was +habitual with him, "Your Ladyship need feel no further anxiety +about the dog. Only be careful not to overfeed him. He will do +very well under Miss Isabel's care. By the bye, her family name +is Miller--is it not? Is she related to the Warwickshire Millers +of Duxborough House?" + +Lady Lydiard looked at him with an expression of satirical +surprise. "Mr. Hardyman," she said, "this makes the fourth time +you have questioned me about Isabel. You seem to take a great +interest in my little companion. Don't make any apologies, pray! +You pay Isabel a compliment, and, as I am very fond of her, I am +naturally gratified when I find her admired. At the same time," +she added, with one of her abrupt transitions of language, "I had +my eye on you, and I had my eye on her, when you were talking in +the next room; and I don't mean to let you make a fool of the +girl. She is not in your line of life, and the sooner you know it +the better. You make me laugh when you ask if she is related to +gentlefolks. She is the orphan daughter of a chemist in the +country. Her relations haven't a penny to bless themselves with, +except an old aunt, who lives in a village on two or three +hundred a year. I heard of the girl by accident. When she lost +her father and mother, her aunt offered to take her. Isabel said, +'No, thank you; I will not be a burden on a relation who has only +enough for herself. A girl can earn an honest living if she +tries; and I mean to try'--that's what she said. I admired her +independence," her Ladyship proceeded, ascending again to the +higher regions of thought and expression. "My niece's marriage, +just at that time, had left me alone in this great house. I +proposed to Isabel to come to me as companion and reader for a +few weeks, and to decide for herself whether she liked the life +or not. We have never been separated since that time. I could +hardly be fonder of her if she were my own daughter; and she +returns my affection with all her heart. She has excellent +qualities--prudent, cheerful, sweet-tempered; with good sense +enough to understand what her place is in the world, as +distinguished from her place in my regard. I have taken care, for +her own sake, never to leave that part of the question in any +doubt. It would be cruel kindness to deceive her as to her future +position when she marries. I shall take good care that the man +who pays his addresses to her is a man in her rank of life. I +know but too well, in the case of one of my own relatives, what +miseries unequal marriages bring with them. Excuse me for +troubling you at this length on domestic matters. I am very fond +of Isabel; and a girl's head is so easily turned. Now you know +what her position really is, you will also know what limits there +must be to the expression of your interest in her. I am sure we +understand each other; and I say no more." + +Hardyman listened to this long harangue with the immovable +gravity which was part of his character--except when Isabel had +taken him by surprise. When her Ladyship gave him the opportunity +of speaking on his side, he had very little to say, and that +little did not suggest that he had greatly profited by what he +had heard. His mind had been full of Isabel when Lady Lydiard +began, and it remained just as full of her, in just the same way, +when Lady Lydiard had done. + +"Yes," he remarked quietly, "Miss Isabel is an uncommonly nice +girl, as you say. Very pretty, and such frank, unaffected +manners. I don't deny that I feel an interest in her. The young +ladies one meets in society are not much to my taste. Miss Isabel +is my taste." + +Lady Lydiard's face assumed a look of blank dismay. "I am afraid +I have failed to convey my exact meaning to you," she said. + +Hardyman gravely declared that he understood her perfectly. +"Perfectly!" he repeated, with his impenetrable obstinacy. "Your +Ladyship exactly expresses my opinion of Miss Isabel. Prudent, +and cheerful, and sweet-tempered, as you say--all the qualities +in a woman that I admire. With good looks, too--of course, with +good looks. She will be a perfect treasure (as you remarked just +now) to the man who marries her. I may claim to know something +about it. I have twice narrowly escaped being married myself; +and, though I can't exactly explain it, I'm all the harder to +please in consequence. Miss Isabel pleases me. I think I have +said that before? Pardon me for saying it again. I'll call again +to-morrow morning and look at the dog as early as eleven o'clock, +if you will allow me. Later in the day I must be off to France to +attend a sale of horses. Glad to have been of any use to your +Ladyship, I am sure. Good-morning." + +Lady Lydiard let him go, wisely resigning any further attempt to +establish an understanding between her visitor and herself. + +"He is either a person of very limited intelligence when he is +away from his stables," she thought, "or he deliberately declines +to take a plain hint when it is given to him. I can't drop his +acquaintance, on Tommie's account. The only other alternative is +to keep Isabel out of his way. My good little girl shall not +drift into a false position while I am living to look after her. +When Mr. Hardyman calls to-morrow she shall be out on an errand. +When he calls the next time she shall be upstairs with a +headache. And if he tries it again she shall be away at my house +in the country. If he makes any remarks on her absence--well, he +will find that I can be just as dull of understanding as he is +when the occasion calls for it." + +Having arrived at this satisfactory solution of the difficulty, +Lady Lydiard became conscious of an irresistible impulse to +summon Isabel to her presence and caress her. In the nature of a +warm-hearted woman, this was only the inevitable reaction which +followed the subsidence of anxiety about the girl, after her own +resolution had set that anxiety at rest. She threw open the door +and made one of her sudden appearances at the boudoir. Even in +the fervent outpouring of her affection, there was still the +inherent abruptness of manner which so strongly marked Lady +Lydiard's character in all the relations of life. + +"Did I give you a kiss, this morning?" she asked, when Isabel +rose to receive her. + +"Yes, my Lady," said the girl, with her charming smile. + +"Come, then, and give me a kiss in return. Do you love me? Very +well, then, treat me like your mother. Never mind 'my lady' this +time. Give me a good hug!" + +Something in those homely words, or something perhaps in the look +that accompanied them, touched sympathies in Isabel which seldom +showed themselves on the surface. Her smiling lips trembled, the +bright tears rose in her eyes. "You are too good to me," she +murmured, with her head on Lady Lydiard's bosom. "How can I ever +love you enough in return?" + +Lady Lydiard patted the pretty head that rested on her with such +filial tenderness. "There! there!" she said, "Go back and play +with Tommie, my dear. We may be as fond of each other as we like; +but we mustn't cry. God bless you! Go away--go away!" + +She turned aside quickly; her own eyes were moistening, and it +was part of her character to be reluctant to let Isabel see it. +"Why have I made a fool of myself?" she wondered, as she +approached the drawing-room door. "It doesn't matter. I am all +the better for it. Odd, that Mr. Hardyman should have made me +feel fonder of Isabel than ever!" + +With those reflections she re-entered the drawing-room--and +suddenly checked herself with a start. "Good Heavens!" she +exclaimed irritably, "how you frightened me! Why was I not told +you were here?" + +Having left the drawing-room in a state of solitude, Lady Lydiard +on her return found herself suddenly confronted with a gentleman, +mysteriously planted on the hearth-rug in her absence. The new +visitor may be rightly described as a gray man. He had gray hair, +eyebrows, and whiskers; he wore a gray coat, waistcoat, and +trousers, and gray gloves. For the rest, his appearance was +eminently suggestive of wealth and respectability and, in this +case, appearances were really to + be trusted. The gray man was no other than Lady Lydiard's legal +adviser, Mr. Troy. + +"I regret, my Lady, that I should have been so unfortunate as to +startle you," he said, with a certain underlying embarrassment in +his manner. "I had the honor of sending word by Mr. Moody that I +would call at this hour, on some matters of business connected +with your Ladyship's house property. I presumed that you expected +to find me here, waiting your pleasure--" + +Thus far Lady Lydiard had listened to her legal adviser, fixing +her eyes on his face in her usually frank, straightforward way. +She now stopped him in the middle of a sentence, with a change of +expression in her own face which was undisguisedly a change to +alarm. + +"Don't apologize, Mr. Troy," she said. "I am to blame for +forgetting your appointment and for not keeping my nerves under +proper control." She paused for a moment and took a seat before +she said her next words. "May I ask," she resumed, "if there is +something unpleasant in the business that brings you here?" + +"Nothing whatever, my Lady; mere formalities, which can wait till +to-morrow or next day, if you wish it." + +Lady Lydiard's fingers drummed impatiently on the table. "You +have known me long enough, Mr. Troy, to know that I cannot endure +suspense. You _have_ something unpleasant to tell me." + +The lawyer respectfully remonstrated. "Really, Lady Lydiard!--" +he began. + +"It won't do, Mr. Troy! I know how you look at me on ordinary +occasions, and I see how you look at me now. You are a very +clever lawyer; but, happily for the interests that I commit to +your charge, you are also a thoroughly honest man. After twenty +years' experience of you, you can't deceive _me_. You bring me +bad news. Speak at once, sir, and speak plainly." + +Mr. Troy yielded--inch by inch, as it were. "I bring news which, +I fear, may annoy your Ladyship." He paused, and advanced another +inch. "It is news which I only became acquainted with myself on +entering this house." + +He waited again, and made another advance. "I happened to meet +your Ladyship's steward, Mr. Moody, in the hall--" + +"Where is he?" Lady Lydiard interposed angrily. "I can make _him_ +speak out, and I will. Send him here instantly." + +The lawyer made a last effort to hold off the coming disclosure a +little longer. "Mr. Moody will be here directly," he said. "Mr. +Moody requested me to prepare your Ladyship--" + +"Will you ring the bell, Mr. Troy, or must I?" + +Moody had evidently been waiting outside while the lawyer spoke +for him. He saved Mr. Troy the trouble of ringing the bell by +presenting himself in the drawing-room. Lady Lydiard's eyes +searched his face as he approached. Her bright complexion faded +suddenly. Not a word more passed her lips. She looked, and +waited. + +In silence on his part, Moody laid an open sheet of paper on the +table. The paper quivered in his trembling hand. + +Lady Lydiard recovered herself first. "Is that for me?" she +asked. + +"Yes, my Lady." + +She took up the paper without an instant's hesitation. Both the +men watched her anxiously as she read it. + +The handwriting was strange to her. The words were these:-- + +"I hereby certify that the bearer of these lines, Robert Moody by +name, has presented to me the letter with which he was charged, +addressed to myself, with the seal intact. I regret to add that +there is, to say the least of it, some mistake. The inclosure +referred to by the anonymous writer of the letter, who signs 'a +friend in need,' has not reached me. No five-hundred pound +bank-note was in the letter when I opened it. My wife was present +when I broke the seal, and can certify to this statement if +necessary. Not knowing who my charitable correspondent is (Mr. +Moody being forbidden to give me any information), I can only +take this means of stating the case exactly as it stands, and +hold myself at the disposal of the writer of the letter. My +private address is at the head of the page. --Samuel Bradstock, +Rector, St. Anne's, Deansbury, London." + +Lady Lydiard dropped the paper on the table. For the moment, +plainly as the Rector's statement was expressed, she appeared to +be incapable of understanding it. "What, in God's name, does this +mean?" she asked. + +The lawyer and the steward looked at each other. Which of the two +was entitled to speak first? Lady Lydiard gave them no time to +decide. "Moody," she said sternly, "you took charge of the +letter--I look to you for an explanation." + +Moody's dark eyes flashed. He answered Lady Lydiard without +caring to conceal that he resented the tone in which she had +spoken to him. + +"I undertook to deliver the letter at its address," he said. "I +found it, sealed, on the table. Your Ladyship has the clergyman's +written testimony that I handed it to him with the seal unbroken. +I have done my duty; and I have no explanation to offer." + +Before Lady Lydiard could speak again, Mr. Troy discreetly +interfered. He saw plainly that his experience was required to +lead the investigation in the right direction. + +"Pardon me, my Lady," he said, with that happy mixture of the +positive and the polite in his manner, of which lawyers alone +possess the secret. "There is only one way of arriving at the +truth in painful matters of this sort. We must begin at the +beginning. May I venture to ask your Ladyship a question?" + +Lady Lydiard felt the composing influence of Mr. Troy. "I am at +your disposal, sir," she said, quietly. + +"Are you absolutely certain that you inclosed the bank-note in +the letter?" the lawyer asked. + +"I certainly believe I inclosed it" Lady Lydiard answered. "But I +was so alarmed at the time by the sudden illness of my dog, that +I do not feel justified in speaking positively." + +"Was anybody in the room with your Ladyship when you put the +inclosure in the letter--as you believe?" + +"_I_ was in the room," said Moody. "I can swear that I saw her +Ladyship put the bank-note in the letter, and the letter in the +envelope." + +"And seal the envelope?" asked Mr. Troy. + +"No, sir. Her Ladyship was called away into the next room to the +dog, before she could seal the envelope." + +Mr. Troy addressed himself once more to Lady Lydiard. "Did your +Ladyship take the letter into the next room with you?" + +"I was too much alarmed to think of it, Mr. Troy. I left it here, +on the table." + +"With the envelope open?" + +"Yes." + +"How long were you absent in the other room?" + +"Half an hour or more." + +"Ha!" said Mr. Troy to himself. "This complicates it a little." +He reflected for a while, and then turned again to Moody. "Did +any of the servants know of this bank-note being in her +Ladyship's possession?" + +"Not one of them," Moody answered. + +"Do you suspect any of the servants?" + +"Certainly not, sir." + +"Are there any workmen employed in the house?" + +"No, sir." + +"Do you know of any persons who had access to the room while Lady +Lydiard was absent from it?" + +"Two visitors called, sir." + +"Who were they?" + +"Her Ladyship's nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir, and the Honorable +Alfred Hardyman." + +Mr. Troy shook his head irritably. "I am not speaking of +gentlemen of high position and repute," he said. "It's absurd +even to mention Mr. Sweetsir and Mr. Hardyman. My question +related to strangers who might have obtained access to the +drawing-room--people calling, with her Ladyship's sanction, for +subscriptions, for instance; or people calling with articles of +dress or ornament to be submitted to her Ladyship's inspection."" + +"No such persons came to the house with my knowledge," Moody +answered. + +Mr. Troy suspended the investigation, and took a turn +thoughtfully in the room. The theory on which his inquiries had +proceeded thus far had failed to produce any results. His +experience warned him to waste no more time on it, and to return +to the starting-point of the investigation--in other words, to +the letter. Shifting his point of view, he turned again to Lady +Lydiard, and tried his questions in a new direction. + +"Mr. Moody mentioned just now," he said, "that your Ladyship was +called into the next room before you could seal your letter. On +your return to this room, did you seal the letter?" + +"I was busy with the dog," Lady Lydiard answered. "Isabel Miller +was of no use in the boudoir, and I told her to seal it for + me." + +Mr. Troy started. The new direction in which he was pushing his +inquiries began to look like the right direction already. "Miss +Isabel Miller," he proceeded, "has been a resident under your +Ladyship's roof for some little time, I believe?" + +"For nearly two years, Mr. Troy." + +"As your Ladyship's companion and reader?" + +"As my adopted daughter," her Ladyship answered, with marked +emphasis. + +Wise Mr. Troy rightly interpreted the emphasis as a warning to +him to suspend the examination of her Ladyship, and to address to +Mr. Moody the far more serious questions which were now to come. + +"Did anyone give you the letter before you left the house with +it?" he said to the steward. "Or did you take it yourself?" + +"I took it myself, from the table here." + +"Was it sealed?" + +"Yes." + +"Was anybody present when you took the letter from the table?" + +"Miss Isabel was present." + +"Did you find her alone in the room?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Lady Lydiard opened her lips to speak, and checked herself. Mr. +Troy, having cleared the ground before him, put the fatal +question. + +"Mr. Moody," he said, "when Miss Isabel was instructed to seal +the letter, did she know that a bank-note was inclosed in it?" + +Instead of replying, Robert drew back from the lawyer with a look +of horror. Lady Lydiard started to her feet--and checked herself +again, on the point of speaking. + +"Answer him, Moody," she said, putting a strong constraint on +herself. + +Robert answered very unwillingly. "I took the liberty of +reminding her ladyship that she had left her letter unsealed," he +said. "And I mentioned as my excuse for speaking"--he stopped, +and corrected himself--"_I believe_ I mentioned that a valuable +inclosure was in the letter." + +"You believe?" Mr. Troy repeated. "Can't you speak more +positively than that?" + +"_I_ can speak positively," said Lady Lydiard, with her eyes on +the lawyer. "Moody did mention the inclosure in the letter--in +Isabel Miller's hearing as well as in mine." She paused, steadily +controlling herself. "And what of that, Mr. Troy?" she added, +very quietly and firmly. + +Mr. Troy answered quietly and firmly, on his side. "I am +surprised that your Ladyship should ask the question," he said. + +"I persist in repeating the question," Lady Lydiard rejoined. "I +say that Isabel Miller knew of the inclosure in my letter--and I +ask, What of that?" + +"And I answer," retorted the impenetrable lawyer, "that the +suspicion of theft rests on your Ladyship's adopted daughter, and +on nobody else." + +"It's false!" cried Robert, with a burst of honest indignation. +"I wish to God I had never said a word to you about the loss of +the bank-note! Oh, my Lady! my Lady! don't let him distress you! +What does _he_ know about it?" + +"Hush!" said Lady Lydiard. "Control yourself, and hear what he +has to say." She rested her hand on Moody's shoulder, partly to +encourage him, partly to support herself; and, fixing her eyes +again on Mr. Troy, repeated his last words, " 'Suspicion rests on +my adopted daughter, and on nobody else.' Why on nobody else?" + +"Is your Ladyship prepared to suspect the Rector of St. Anne's of +embezzlement, or your own relatives and equals of theft?" Mr. +Troy asked. "Does a shadow of doubt rest on the servants? Not if +Mr. Moody's evidence is to be believed. Who, to our own certain +knowledge, had access to the letter while it was unsealed? Who +was alone in the room with it? And who knew of the inclosure in +it? I leave the answer to your Ladyship." + +"Isabel Miller is as incapable of an act of theft as I am. There +is my answer, Mr. Troy." + +The lawyer bowed resignedly, and advanced to the door. + +"Am I to take your Ladyship's generous assertion as finally +disposing of the question of the lost bank-note?" he inquired. + +Lady Lydiard met the challenge without shrinking from it. + +"No!" she said. "The loss of the bank-note is known out of my +house. Other persons may suspect this innocent girl as you +suspect her. It is due to Isabel's reputation--her unstained +reputation, Mr. Troy!--that she should know what has happened, +and should have an opportunity of defending herself. She is in +the next room, Moody. Bring her here." + +Robert's courage failed him: he trembled at the bare idea of +exposing Isabel to the terrible ordeal that awaited her. "Oh, my +Lady!" he pleaded, "think again before you tell the poor girl +that she is suspected of theft. Keep it a secret from her--the +shame of it will break her heart!" + +"Keep it a secret," said Lady Lydiard, "when the Rector and the +Rector's wife both know of it! Do you think they will let the +matter rest where it is, even if I could consent to hush it up? I +must write to them; and I can't write anonymously after what has +happened. Put yourself in Isabel's place, and tell me if you +would thank the person who knew you to be innocently exposed to a +disgraceful suspicion, and who concealed it from you? Go, Moody! +The longer you delay, the harder it will be." + +With his head sunk on his breast, with anguish written in every +line of his face, Moody obeyed. Passing slowly down the short +passage which connected the two rooms , and still shrinking from +the duty that had been imposed on him, he paused, looking through +the curtains which hung over the entrance to the boudoir. + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE sight that met Moody's view wrung him to the heart. + +Isabel and the dog were at play together. Among the varied +accomplishments possessed by Tommie, the capacity to take his +part at a game of hide-and-seek was one. His playfellow for the +time being put a shawl or a handkerchief over his head, so as to +prevent him from seeing, and then hid among the furniture a +pocketbook, or a cigar-case, or a purse, or anything else that +happened to be at hand, leaving the dog to find it, with his keen +sense of smell to guide him. Doubly relieved by the fit and the +bleeding, Tommie's spirits had revived; and he and Isabel had +just begun their game when Moody looked into the room, charged +with his terrible errand. "You're burning, Tommie, you're +burning!" cried the girl, laughing and clapping her hands. The +next moment she happened to look round and saw Moody through the +parted curtains. His face warned her instantly that something +serious had happened. She advanced a few steps, her eyes resting +on him in silent alarm. He was himself too painfully agitated to +speak. Not a word was exchanged between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy +in the next room. In the complete stillness that prevailed, the +dog was heard sniffing and fidgeting about the furniture. Robert +took Isabel by the hand and led her into the drawing-room. "For +God's sake, spare her, my Lady!" he whispered. The lawyer heard +him. "No," said Mr. Troy. "Be merciful, and tell her the truth!" + +He spoke to a woman who stood in no need of his advice. The +inherent nobility in Lady Lydiard's nature was aroused: her great +heart offered itself patiently to any sorrow, to any sacrifice. + +Putting her arm round Isabel--half caressing her, half supporting +her--Lady Lydiard accepted the whole responsibility and told the +whole truth. + +Reeling under the first shock, the poor girl recovered herself +with admirable courage. She raised her head, and eyed the lawyer +without uttering a word. In its artless consciousness of +innocence the look was nothing less than sublime. Addressing +herself to Mr. Troy, Lady Lydiard pointed to Isabel. "Do you see +guilt there?" she asked. + +Mr. Troy made no answer. In the melancholy experience of humanity +to which his profession condemned him, he had seen conscious +guilt assume the face of innocence, and helpless innocence admit +the disguise of guilt: the keenest observation, in either case, +failing completely to detect the truth. Lady Lydiard +misinterpreted his silence as expressing the sullen +self-assertion of a heartless man. She turned from him, in +contempt, and held out her hand to Isabel. + +"Mr. Troy is not satisfied yet," she said bitterly. "My love, +take my hand, and look me in the face as your equal; I know no +difference of rank at such a time as this. Before God, who hears +you, are you innocent of the theft of the bank-note?" + +"Before God, who hears me," Isabel answered, "I am innocent." + +Lady Lydiard looked once more at the lawyer, and waited to hear +if he believed _that_. + +Mr. Troy took refuge in dumb diplomacy--he made a low bow. It +might have meant that he believed Isabel, or it might have meant +that he modestly withdrew his own opinion into the background. +Lady Lydiard did not condescend to inquire what it meant. + +"The sooner we bring this painful scene to an end the better," +she said. "I shall be glad to avail myself of your professional +assistance, Mr. Troy, within certain limits. Outside of my house, +I beg that you will spare no trouble in tracing the lost money to +the person who has really stolen it. Inside of my house, I must +positively request that the disappearance of the note may never +be alluded to, in any way whatever, until your inquiries have +been successful in discovering the thief. In the meanwhile, Mrs. +Tollmidge and her family must not be sufferers by my loss: I +shall pay the money again." She paused, and pressed Isabel's hand +with affectionate fervor. "My child," she said, "one last word to +you, and I have done. You remain here, with my trust in you, and +my love for you, absolutely unshaken. When you think of what has +been said here to-day, never forget that." + +Isabel bent her head, and kissed the kind hand that still held +hers. The high spirit that was in her, inspired by Lady Lydiard's +example, rose equal to the dreadful situation in which she was +placed. + +"No, my Lady," she said calmly and sadly; "it cannot be. What +this gentleman has said of me is not to be denied--the +appearances are against me. The letter was open, and I was alone +in the room with it, and Mr. Moody told me that a valuable +inclosure was inside it. Dear and kind mistress! I am not fit to +be a member of your household, I am not worthy to live with the +honest people who serve you, while my innocence is in doubt. It +is enough for me now that _you_ don't doubt it. I can wait +patiently, after that, for the day that gives me back my good +name. Oh, my Lady, don't cry about it! Pray, pray don't cry!" + +Lady Lydiard's self-control failed her for the first time. +Isabel's courage had made Isabel dearer to her than ever. She +sank into a chair, and covered her face with her handkerchief. +Mr. Troy turned aside abruptly, and examined a Japanese vase, +without any idea in his mind of what he was looking at. Lady +Lydiard had gravely misjudged him in believing him to be a +heartless man. + +Isabel followed the lawyer, and touched him gently on the arm to +rouse his attention. + +"I have one relation living, sir--an aunt--who will receive me if +I go to her," she said simply. "Is there any harm in my going? +Lady Lydiard will give you the address when you want me. Spare +her Ladyship, sir, all the pain and trouble that you can." + +At last the heart that was in Mr. Troy asserted itself. "You are +a fine creature!" he said, with a burst of enthusiasm. "I agree +with Lady Lydiard--I believe you are innocent, too; and I will +leave no effort untried to find the proof of it." He turned aside +again, and had another look at the Japanese vase. + +As the lawyer withdrew himself from observation, Moody approached +Isabel. + +Thus far he had stood apart, watching her and listening to her in +silence. Not a look that had crossed her face, not a word that +had fallen from her, had escaped him. Unconsciously on her side, +unconsciously on his side, she now wrought on his nature with a +purifying and ennobling influence which animated it with a new +life. All that had been selfish and violent in his passion for +her left him to return no more. The immeasurable devotion which +he laid at her feet, in the days that were yet to come--the +unyielding courage which cheerfully accepted the sacrifice of +himself when events demanded it at a later period of his +life--struck root in him now. Without attempting to conceal the +tears that were falling fast over his cheeks--striving vainly to +express those new thoughts in him that were beyond the reach of +words--he stood before her the truest friend and servant that +ever woman had. + +"Oh, my dear! my heart is heavy for you. Take me to serve you and +help you. Her Ladyship's kindness will permit it, I am sure." + +He could say no more. In those simple words the cry of his heart +reached her. "Forgive me, Robert," she answered, gratefully, "if +I said anything to pain you when we spoke together a little while +since. I didn't mean it." She gave him her hand, and looked +timidly over her shoulder at Lady Lydiard. "Let me go!" she said, +in low, broken tones, "Let me go!" + +Mr. Troy heard her, and stepped forward to interfere before Lady +Lydiard could speak. The man had recovered his self-control; the +lawyer took his place again on the scene. + +"You must not leave us, my dear," he said to Isabel, "until I +have put a question to Mr. Moody in which you are interested. Do +you happen to have the number of the lost bank-note?" he asked, +turning to the steward. + +Moody produced his slip of paper with the number on it. Mr. Troy +made two copies of it before he returned the paper. One copy he +put in his pocket, the other he handed to Isabel. + +"Keep it carefully," he said. "Neither you nor I know how soon it +may be of use to you." + +Receiving the copy from him, she felt mechanically in her apron +for her pocketbook. She had used it, in playing with the dog, as +an object to hide from him; but she had suffered, and was still +suffering, too keenly to be capable of the effort of remembrance. +Moody, eager to help her even in the most trifling thing, guessed +what had happened. "You were playing with Tommie," he said; "is +it in the next room?" + +The dog heard his name pronounced through the open door. The next +moment he trotted into the drawing-room with Isabel's pocketbook +in his mouth. He was a strong, well-grown Scotch terrier of the +largest size, with bright, intelligent eyes, and a coat of thick +curling white hair, diversified by two light brown patches on his +back. As he reached the middle of the room, and looked from one +to another of the persons present, the fine sympathy of his race +told him that there was trouble among his human friends. His tail +dropped; he whined softly as he approached Isabel, and laid her +pocketbook at her feet. + +She knelt as she picked up the pocketbook, and raised her +playfellow of happier days to take her leave of him. As the dog +put his paws on her shoulders, returning her caress, her first +tears fell. "Foolish of me," she said, faintly, "to cry over a +dog. I can't help it. Good-by, Tommie!" + +Putting him away from her gently, she walked towards the door. +The dog instantly followed. She put him away from her, for the +second time, and left him. He was not to be denied; he followed +her again, and took the skirt of her dress in his teeth, as if to +hold her back. Robert forced the dog, growling and resisting with +all his might, to let go of the dress. "Don't be rough with him," +said Isabel. "Put him on her ladyship's lap; he will be quieter +there." Robert obeyed. He whispered to Lady Lydiard as she +received the dog; she seemed to be still incapable of +speaking--she bowed her head in silent assent. Robert hurried +back to Isabel before she had passed the door. "Not alone!" he +said entreatingly. "Her Ladyship permits it, Isabel. Let me see +you safe to your aunt's house." + +Isabel looked at him, felt for him, and yielded. + +"Yes," she answered softly; "to make amends for what I said to +you when I was thoughtless and happy!" She waited a little to +compose herself before she spoke her farewell words to Lady +Lydiard. "Good-by, my Lady. Your kindness has not been thrown +away on an ungrateful girl. I love you, and thank you, with all +my heart." + +Lady Lydiard rose, placing the dog on the chair as she left it. +She seemed to have grown older by years, instead of by minutes, +in the short interval that had passed since she had hidden her +face from view. "I can't bear it!" she cried, in husky, broken +tones. "Isabel! Isabel! I forbid you to leave me!" + +But one person could venture to resist her. That person was Mr. +Troy--and Mr. Troy knew it. + +"Control yourself," he said to her in a whisper. "The girl is +doing what is best and most becoming in her position--and is +doing it with a patience and courage wonderful to see. Sh e +places herself under the protection of her nearest relative, +until her character is vindicated and her position in your house +is once more beyond a doubt. Is this a time to throw obstacles in +her way? Be worthy of yourself, Lady Lydiard and think of the day +when she will return to you without the breath of a suspicion to +rest on her!" + +There was no disputing with him--he was too plainly in the right +. Lady Lydiard submitted; she concealed the torture that her own +resolution inflicted on her with an endurance which was, indeed, +worthy of herself. Taking Isabel in her arms she kissed her in a +passion of sorrow and love. "My poor dear! My own sweet girl! +don't suppose that this is a parting kiss! I shall see you +again--often and often I shall see you again at your aunt's!" At +a sign from Mr. Troy, Robert took Isabel's arm in his and led her +away. Tommie, watching her from his chair, lifted his little +white muzzle as his playfellow looked back on passing the +doorway. The long, melancholy, farewell howl of the dog was the +last sound Isabel Miller heard as she left the house. + + + +PART THE SECOND. + +THE DISCOVERY. + +CHAPTER VIII. + +ON the day after Isabel's departure, diligent Mr. Troy set forth +for the Head Office in Whitehall to consult the police on the +question of the missing money. He had previously sent information +of the robbery to the Bank of England, and had also advertised +the loss in the daily newspapers. + +The air was so pleasant, and the sun was so bright, that he +determined on proceeding to his destination on foot. He was +hardly out of sight of his own offices when he was overtaken by a +friend, who was also walking in the direction of Whitehall. This +gentleman was a person of considerable worldly wisdom and +experience; he had been officially associated with cases of +striking and notorious crime, in which Government had lent its +assistance to discover and punish the criminals. The opinion of a +person in this position might be of the greatest value to Mr. +Troy, whose practice as a solicitor had thus far never brought +him into collision with thieves and mysteries. He accordingly +decided, in Isabel's interests, on confiding to his friend the +nature of his errand to the police. Concealing the name, but +concealing nothing else, he described what had happened on the +previous day at Lady Lydiard's house, and then put the question +plainly to his companion. + +"What would you do in my place?" + +"In your place," his friend answered quietly, "I should not waste +time and money in consulting the police." + +"Not consult the police!" exclaimed Mr. Troy in amazement. +"Surely, I have not made myself understood? I am going to the +Head Office; and I have got a letter of introduction to the chief +inspector in the detective department. I am afraid I omitted to +mention that?" + +"It doesn't make any difference," proceeded the other, as coolly +as ever. "You have asked for my advice, and I give you my advice. +Tear up your letter of introduction, and don't stir a step +further in the direction of Whitehall." + +Mr. Troy began to understand. "You don't believe in the detective +police?" he said. + +"Who _can_ believe in them, who reads his newspaper and remembers +what he reads?" his friend rejoined. "Fortunately for the +detective department, the public in general forgets what it +reads. Go to your club, and look at the criminal history of our +own time, recorded in the newspapers. Every crime is more or less +a mystery. You will see that the mysteries which the police +discover are, almost without exception, mysteries made penetrable +by the commonest capacity, through the extraordinary stupidity +exhibited in the means taken to hide the crime. On the other +hand, let the guilty man or woman be a resolute and intelligent +person, capable of setting his (or her) wits fairly against the +wits of the police--in other words, let the mystery really _be_ a +mystery--and cite me a case if you can (a really difficult and +perplexing case) in which the criminal has not escaped. Mind! I +don't charge the police with neglecting their work. No doubt they +do their best, and take the greatest pains in following the +routine to which they have been trained. It is their misfortune, +not their fault, that there is no man of superior intelligence +among them--I mean no man who is capable, in great emergencies, +of placing himself above conventional methods, and following a +new way of his own. There have been such men in the police--men +naturally endowed with that faculty of mental analysis which can +decompose a mystery, resolve it into its component parts, and +find the clue at the bottom, no matter how remote from ordinary +observation it may be. But those men have died, or have retired. +One of them would have been invaluable to you in the case you +have just mentioned to me. As things are, unless you are wrong in +believing in the young lady's innocence, the person who has +stolen that bank-note will be no easy person to find. In my +opinion, there is only one man now in London who is likely to be +of the slightest assistance to you--and he is not in the police." + +"Who is he?" asked Mr. Troy. + +"An old rogue, who was once in your branch of the legal +profession," the friend answered. "You may, perhaps, remember the +name: they call him 'Old Sharon.' " + +"What! The scoundrel who was struck off the Roll of Attorneys, +years since? Is he still alive?" + +"Alive and prospering. He lives in a court or lane running out of +Long Acre, and he offers advice to persons interested in +recovering missing objects of any sort. Whether you have lost +your wife, or lost your cigar-case, Old Sharon is equally useful +to you. He has an inbred capacity for reading the riddle the +right way in cases of mystery, great or small. In short, he +possesses exactly that analytical faculty to which I alluded just +now. I have his address at my office, if you think it worth while +to try him." + +"Who can trust such a man?" Mr. Troy objected. "He would be sure +to deceive me." + +"You are entirely mistaken. Since he was struck off the Rolls Old +Sharon has discovered that the straight way is, on the whole, the +best way, even in a man's own interests. His consultation fee is +a guinea; and he gives a signed estimate beforehand for any +supplementary expenses that may follow. I can tell you (this is, +of course, strictly between ourselves) that the authorities at my +office took his advice in a Government case that puzzled the +police. We approached him, of course, through persons who were to +be trusted to represent us, without betraying the source from +which their instructions were derived; and we found the old +rascal's advice well worth paying for. It is quite likely that he +may not succeed so well in your case. Try the police, by all +means; and, if they fail, why, there is Sharon as a last resort." + +This arrangement commended itself to Mr. Troy's professional +caution. He went on to Whitehall, and he tried the detective +police. + +They at once adopted the obvious conclusion to persons of +ordinary capacity--the conclusion that Isabel was the thief. + +Acting on this conviction, the authorities sent an experienced +woman from the office to Lady Lydiard's house, to examine the +poor girl's clothes and ornaments before they were packed up and +sent after her to her aunt's. The search led to nothing. The only +objects of any value that were discovered had been presents from +Lady Lydiard. No jewelers' or milliners' bills were among the +papers found in her desk. Not a sign of secret extravagance in +dress was to be seen anywhere. Defeated so far, the police +proposed next to have Isabel privately watched. There might be a +prodigal lover somewhere in the background, with ruin staring him +in the face unless he could raise five hundred pounds. Lady +Lydiard (who had only consented to the search under stress of +persuasive argument from Mr. Troy) resented this ingenious idea +as an insult. She declared that if Isabel was watched the girl +should know of it instantly from her own lips. The police +listened with perfect resignation and decorum, and politely +shifted their ground. A certain suspicion (they remarked) always +rested in cases of this sort on the servants. Would her Ladyship +obje ct to private inquiries into the characters and proceedings +of the servants? Her Ladyship instantly objected, in the most +positive terms. Thereupon the "Inspector" asked for a minute's +private conversation with Mr. Troy. "The thief is certainly a +member of Lady Lydiard's household," this functionary remarked, +in his politely-positive way. "If her Ladyship persists in +refusing to let us make the necessary inquiries, our hands are +tied, and the case comes to an end through no fault of ours. If +her Ladyship changes her mind, perhaps you will drop me a line, +sir, to that effect. Good-morning." + +So the experiment of consulting the police came to an untimely +end. The one result obtained was the expression of purblind +opinion by the authorities of the detective department which +pointed to Isabel, or to one of the servants, as the undiscovered +thief. Thinking the matter over in the retirement of his own +office--and not forgetting his promise to Isabel to leave no +means untried of establishing her innocence--Mr. Troy could see +but one alternative left to him. He took up his pen, and wrote to +his friend at the Government office. There was nothing for it now +but to run the risk, and try Old Sharon. + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE next day, Mr. Troy (taking Robert Moody with him as a +valuable witness) rang the bell at the mean and dirty +lodging-house in which Old Sharon received the clients who stood +in need of his advice. + +They were led up stairs to a back room on the second floor of the +house. Entering the room, they discovered through a thick cloud +of tobacco smoke, a small, fat, bald-headed, dirty, old man, in +an arm-chair, robed in a tattered flannel dressing-gown, with a +short pipe in his mouth, a pug-dog on his lap, and a French novel +in his hands. + +"Is it business?" asked Old Sharon, speaking in a hoarse, +asthmatical voice, and fixing a pair of bright, shameless, black +eyes attentively on the two visitors. + +"It _is_ business," Mr. Troy answered, looking at the old rogue +who had disgraced an honorable profession, as he might have +looked at a reptile which had just risen rampant at his feet. +"What is your fee for a consultation?" + +"You give me a guinea, and I'll give you half an hour." With this +reply Old Sharon held out his unwashed hand across the rickety +ink-splashed table at which he was sitting. + +Mr. Troy would not have touched him with the tips of his own +fingers for a thousand pounds. He laid the guinea on the table. + +Old Sharon burst into a fierce laugh--a laugh strangely +accompanied by a frowning contraction of his eyebrows, and a +frightful exhibition of the whole inside of his mouth. "I'm not +clean enough for you--eh?" he said, with an appearance of being +very much amused. "There's a dirty old man described in this book +that is a little like me." He held up his French novel. "Have you +read it? A capital story--well put together. Ah, you haven't read +it? You have got a pleasure to come. I say, do you mind +tobacco-smoke? I think faster while I smoke--that's all." + +Mr. Troy's respectable hand waved a silent permission to smoke, +given under dignified protest. + +"All right," said Old Sharon. "Now, get on." + +He laid himself back in his chair, and puffed out his smoke, with +eyes lazily half closed, like the eyes of the pug-dog on his lap. +At that moment, indeed there was a curious resemblance between +the two. They both seemed to be preparing themselves, in the same +idle way, for the same comfortable nap. + +Mr. Troy stated the circumstances under which the five hundred +pound note had disappeared, in clear and consecutive narrative. +When he had done, Old Sharon suddenly opened his eyes. The +pug-dog suddenly opened his eyes. Old Sharon looked hard at Mr. +Troy. The pug looked hard at Mr. Troy. Old Sharon spoke. The pug +growled. + +"I know who you are--you're a lawyer. Don't be alarmed! I never +saw you before; and I don't know your name. What I do know is a +lawyer's statement of facts when I hear it. Who's this?" Old +Sharon looked inquisitively at Moody as he put the question. + +Mr. Troy introduced Moody as a competent witness, thoroughly +acquainted with the circumstances, and ready and willing to +answer any questions relating to them. Old Sharon waited a +little, smoking hard and thinking hard. "Now, then!" he burst out +in his fiercely sudden way. "I'm going to get to the root of the +matter." + +He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, and began his +examination of Moody. Heartily as Mr. Troy despised and disliked +the old rogue, he listened with astonishment and +admiration--literally extorted from him by the marvelous ability +with which the questions were adapted to the end in view. In a +quarter of an hour Old Sharon had extracted from the witness +everything, literally everything down to the smallest detail, +that Moody could tell him. Having now, in his own phrase, "got to +the root of the matter," he relighted his pipe with a grunt of +satisfaction, and laid himself back in his old armchair. + +"Well?" said Mr. Troy. "Have you formed your opinion?" + +"Yes; I've formed my opinion." + +"What is it?" + +Instead of replying, Old Sharon winked confidentially at Mr. +Troy, and put a question on his side. + +"I say! is a ten-pound note much of an object to you?" + +"It depends on what the money is wanted for," answered Mr. Troy. + +"Look here," said Old Sharon; "I give you an opinion for your +guinea; but, mind this, it's an opinion founded on hearsay--and +you know as a lawyer what that is worth. Venture your ten +pounds--in plain English, pay me for my time and trouble in a +baffling and difficult case--and I'll give you an opinion founded +on my own experience." + +"Explain yourself a little more clearly," said Mr. Troy. "What do +you guarantee to tell us if we venture the ten pounds?" + +"I guarantee to name the person, or the persons, on whom the +suspicion really rests. And if you employ me after that, I +guarantee (before you pay me a halfpenny more) to prove that I am +right by laying my hand on the thief." + +"Let us have the guinea opinion first," said Mr. Troy. + +Old Sharon made another frightful exhibition of the whole inside +of his mouth; his laugh was louder and fiercer than ever. "I like +you!" he said to Mr. Troy, "you are so devilish fond of your +money. Lord! how rich you must be! Now listen. Here's the guinea +opinion: Suspect, in this case, the very last person on whom +suspicion could possibly fall." + +Moody, listening attentively, started, and changed color at those +last words. Mr. Troy looked thoroughly disappointed and made no +attempt to conceal it. + +"Is that all?" he asked. + +"All?" retorted the cynical vagabond. "You're a pretty lawyer! +What more can I say, when I don't know for certain whether the +witness who has given me my information has misled me or not? +Have I spoken to the girl and formed my own opinion? No! Have I +been introduced among the servants (as errand-boy, or to clean +the boots and shoes, or what not), and have I formed my own +judgement of _them?_ No! I take your opinions for granted, and I +tell you how I should set to work myself if they were _my_ +opinions too--and that's a guinea's-worth, a devilish good +guinea's-worth to a rich man like you!" + +Old Sharon's logic produced a certain effect on Mr. Troy, in +spite of himself. It was smartly put from his point of +view--there was no denying that. + +"Even if I consented to your proposal," he said, "I should object +to your annoying the young lady with impertinent questions, or to +your being introduced as a spy into a respectable house." + +Old Sharon doubled his dirty fists and drummed with them on the +rickety table in a comical frenzy of impatience while Mr. Troy +was speaking. + +"What the devil do you know about my way of doing my business?" +he burst out when the lawyer had done. "One of us two is talking +like a born idiot--and (mind this) it isn't me. Look here! Your +young lady goes out for a walk, and she meets with a dirty, +shabby old beggar--I look like a shabby old beggar already, don't +I? Very good. This dirty old wretch whines and whimpers and tells +a long story, and gets sixpence out of the girl--and knows her by +that time, inside and out, as well as if he had made her--and, +mark! hasn't asked her a single ques tion, and, instead of +annoying her, has made her happy in the performance of a +charitable action. Stop a bit! I haven't done with you yet. Who +blacks your boots and shoes? Look here!" He pushed his pug-dog +off his lap, dived under the table, appeared again with an old +boot and a bottle of blackening, and set to work with tigerish +activity. "I'm going out for a walk, you know, and I may as well +make myself smart." With that announcement, he began to sing over +his work--a song of sentiment, popular in England in the early +part of the present century--"She's all my fancy painted her; +she's lovely, she's divine; but her heart it is another's; and it +never can be mine! Too-ral-loo-ral-loo'. I like a love-song. +Brush away! brush away! till I see my own pretty face in the +blacking. Hey! Here's a nice, harmless, jolly old man! sings and +jokes over his work, and makes the kitchen quite cheerful. What's +that you say? He's a stranger, and don't talk to him too freely. +You ought to be ashamed of yourself to speak in that way of a +poor old fellow with one foot in the grave. Mrs. Cook will give +him a nice bit of dinner in the scullery; and John Footman will +look out an old coat for him. And when he's heard everything he +wants to hear, and doesn't come back again the next day to his +work--what do they think of it in the servants' hall? Do they +say, 'We've had a spy among us!' Yah! you know better than that, +by this time. The cheerful old man has been run over in the +street, or is down with the fever, or has turned up his toes in +the parish dead-house--that's what they say in the servants' +hall. Try me in your own kitchen, and see if your servants take +me for a spy. Come, come, Mr. Lawyer! out with your ten pounds, +and don't waste any more precious time about it!" + +"I will consider and let you know," said Mr. Troy. + +Old Sharon laughed more ferociously than ever, and hobbled round +the table in a great hurry to the place at which Moody was +sitting. He laid one hand on the steward's shoulder, and pointed +derisively with the other to Mr. Troy. + +"I say, Mr. Silent-man! Bet you five pounds I never hear of that +lawyer again!" + +Silently attentive all through the interview (except when he was +answering questions), Moody only replied in the fewest words. "I +don't bet," was all he said. He showed no resentment at Sharon's +familiarity, and he appeared to find no amusement in Sharon's +extraordinary talk. The old vagabond seemed actually to produce a +serious impression on him! When Mr. Troy set the example of +rising to go, he still kept his seat, and looked at the lawyer as +if he regretted leaving the atmosphere of tobacco smoke reeking +in the dirty room. + +"Have you anything to say before we go?" Mr. Troy asked. + +Moody rose slowly and looked at Old Sharon. "Not just now, sir," +he replied, looking away again, after a moment's reflection. + +Old Sharon interpreted Moody's look and Moody's reply from his +own peculiar point of view. He suddenly drew the steward away +into a corner of the room. + +"I say!" he began, in a whisper. "Upon your solemn word of honor, +you know--are you as rich as the lawyer there?" + +"Certainly not." + +"Look here! It's half price to a poor man. If you feel like +coming back, on your own account--five pounds will do from _you_. +There! there! Think of it!--think of it!" + +"Now, then!" said Mr. Troy, waiting for his companion, with the +door open in his hand. He looked back at Sharon when Moody joined +him. The old vagabond was settled again in his armchair, with his +dog in his lap, his pipe in his mouth, and his French novel in +his hand; exhibiting exactly the picture of frowzy comfort which +he had presented when his visitors first entered the room. + +"Good-day," said Mr. Troy, with haughty condescension. + +"Don't interrupt me!" rejoined Old Sharon, absorbed in his novel. +"You've had your guinea's worth. Lord! what a lovely book this +is! Don't interrupt me!" + +"Impudent scoundrel!" said Mr. Troy, when he and Moody were in +the street again. "What could my friend mean by recommending him? +Fancy his expecting me to trust him with ten pounds! I consider +even the guinea completely thrown away." + +"Begging your pardon, sir," said Moody, "I don't quite agree with +you there." + +"What! you don't mean to tell me you understand that oracular +sentence of his--'Suspect the very last person on whom suspicion +could possibly fall.' Rubbish!" + +"I don't say I understand it, sir. I only say it has set me +thinking." + +"Thinking of what? Do your suspicions point to the thief?" + +"If you will please to excuse me, Mr. Troy, I should like to wait +a while before I answer that." + +Mr. Troy suddenly stood still, and eyed his companion a little +distrustfully. + +"Are you going to turn detective-policeman on your own account?" +he asked. + +"There's nothing I won't turn to, and try, to help Miss Isabel in +this matter," Moody answered, firmly. "I have saved a few hundred +pounds in Lady Lydiard's service, and I am ready to spend every +farthing of it, if I can only discover the thief." + +Mr. Troy walked on again. "Miss Isabel seems to have a good +friend in you," he said. He was (perhaps unconsciously) a little +offended by the independent tone in which the steward spoke, +after he had himself engaged to take the vindication of the +girl's innocence into his own hands. + +"Miss Isabel has a devoted servant and slave in me!" Moody +answered, with passionate enthusiasm. + +"Very creditable; I haven't a word to say against it," Mr. Troy +rejoined. "But don't forget that the young lady has other devoted +friends besides you. I am her devoted friend, for instance--I +have promised to serve her, and I mean to keep my word. You will +excuse me for adding that my experience and discretion are quite +as likely to be useful to her as your enthusiasm. I know the +world well enough to be careful in trusting strangers. It will do +you no harm, Mr. Moody, to follow my example." + +Moody accepted his reproof with becoming patience and +resignation. "If you have anything to propose, sir, that will be +of service to Miss Isabel," he said, "I shall be happy if I can +assist you in the humblest capacity." + +"And if not?" Mr. Troy inquired, conscious of having nothing to +propose as he asked the question. + +"In that case, sir, I must take my own course, and blame nobody +but myself if it leads me astray." + +Mr. Troy said no more: he parted from Moody at the next turning. + +Pursuing the subject privately in his own mind, he decided on +taking the earliest opportunity of visiting Isabel at her aunt's +house, and on warning her, in her future intercourse with Moody, +not to trust too much to the steward's discretion. "I haven't a +doubt," thought the lawyer, "of what he means to do next. The +infatuated fool is going back to Old Sharon!" + + +CHAPTER X. + +RETURNING to his office, Mr. Troy discovered, among the +correspondence that was waiting for him, a letter from the very +person whose welfare was still the uppermost subject in his mind. +Isabel Miller wrote in these terms: + +"Dear Sir--My aunt, Miss Pink, is very desirous of consulting you +professionally at the earliest opportunity. Although South Morden +is within little more than half an hour's railway ride from +London, Miss Pink does not presume to ask you to visit her, being +well aware of the value of your time. Will you, therefore, be so +kind as to let me know when it will be convenient to you to +receive my aunt at your office in London? Believe me, dear sir, +respectfully yours, ISABEL MILLER. P.S.--I am further instructed +to say that the regrettable event at Lady Lydiard's house is the +proposed subject of the consultation. The Lawn, South Morden. +Thursday." + +Mr. Troy smiled as he read the letter. "Too formal for a young +girl!" he said to himself. "Every word of it has been dictated by +Miss Pink." He was not long in deciding what course he should +take. There was a pressing necessity for cautioning Isabel, and +here was his opportunity. He sent for his head clerk, and looked +at his list of engagements for the day. There was nothing set +down in the book which the clerk was not quite as well able to do +as the master. Mr. Troy consulted his railway-guide, ordered his +cab, and caught the next train to South Mord en. + +South Morden was then (and remains to this day) one of those +primitive agricultural villages, passed over by the march of +modern progress, which are still to be found in the near +neighborhood of London. Only the slow trains stopped at the +station and there was so little to do that the station-master and +his porter grew flowers on the embankment, and trained creepers +over the waiting-room window. Turning your back on the railway, +and walking along the one street of South Morden, you found +yourself in the old England of two centuries since. Gabled +cottages, with fast-closed windows; pigs and poultry in quiet +possession of the road; the venerable church surrounded by its +shady burial-ground; the grocer's shop which sold everything, and +the butcher's shop which sold nothing; the scarce inhabitants who +liked a good look at a stranger, and the unwashed children who +were pictures of dirty health; the clash of the iron-chained +bucket in the public well, and the thump of the falling nine-pins +in the skittle-ground behind the public-house; the horse-pond on +the one bit of open ground, and the old elm-tree with the wooden +seat round it on the other--these were some of the objects that +you saw, and some of the noises that you heard in South Morden, +as you passed from one end of the village to the other. + +About half a mile beyond the last of the old cottages, modern +England met you again under the form of a row of little villas, +set up by an adventurous London builder who had bought the land a +bargain. Each villa stood in its own little garden, and looked +across a stony road at the meadow lands and softly-rising wooded +hills beyond. Each villa faced you in the sunshine with the +horrid glare of new red brick, and forced its nonsensical name on +your attention, traced in bright paint on the posts of its +entrance gate. Consulting the posts as he advanced, Mr. Troy +arrived in due course of time at the villa called The Lawn, which +derived its name apparently from a circular patch of grass in +front of the house. The gate resisting his efforts to open it, he +rang the bell. + +Admitted by a trim, clean, shy little maid-servant, Mr. Troy +looked about him in amazement. Turn which way he might, he found +himself silently confronted by posted and painted instructions to +visitors, which forbade him to do this, and commanded him to do +that, at every step of his progress from the gate to the house. +On the side of the lawn a label informed him that he was not to +walk on the grass. On the other side a painted hand pointed along +a boundary-wall to an inscription which warned him to go that way +if he had business in the kitchen. On the gravel walk at the foot +of the housesteps words, neatly traced in little white shells, +reminded him not to "forget the scraper". On the doorstep he was +informed, in letters of lead, that he was "Welcome!" On the mat +in the passage bristly black words burst on his attention, +commanding him to "wipe his shoes." Even the hat-stand in the +hall was not allowed to speak for itself; it had "Hats and +Cloaks" inscribed on it, and it issued its directions +imperatively in the matter of your wet umbrella--"Put it here!" + +Giving the trim little servant his card, Mr. Troy was introduced +to a reception-room on the lower floor. Before he had time to +look round him the door was opened again from without, and Isabel +stole into the room on tiptoe. She looked worn and anxious. When +she shook hands with the old lawyer the charming smile that he +remembered so well was gone. + +"Don't say you have seen me," she whispered. "I am not to come +into the room till my aunt sends for me. Tell me two things +before I run away again. How is Lady Lydiard? And have you +discovered the thief?" + +"Lady Lydiard was well when I last saw her; and we have not yet +succeeded in discovering the thief." Having answered the +questions in those terms, Mr. Troy decided on cautioning Isabel +on the subject of the steward while he had the chance. "One +question on my side," he said, holding her back from the door by +the arm. "Do you expect Moody to visit you here?" + +"I am _sure_ he will visit me," Isabel answered warmly. "He has +promised to come here at my request. I never knew what a kind +heart Robert Moody had till this misfortune fell on me. My aunt, +who is not easily taken with strangers, respects and admires him. +I can't tell you how good he was to me on the journey here--and +how kindly, how nobly, he spoke to me when we parted." She +paused, and turned her head away. The tears were rising in her +eyes. "In my situation," she said faintly, "kindness is very +keenly felt. Don't notice me, Mr. Troy." + +The lawyer waited a moment to let her recover herself. + +"I agree entirely, my dear, in your opinion of Moody," he said. +"At the same time, I think it right to warn you that his zeal in +your service may possibly outrun his discretion. He may feel too +confidently about penetrating the mystery of the missing money; +and, unless you are on your guard, he may raise false hopes in +you when you next see him. Listen to any advice that he may give +you, by all means. But, before you decide on being guided by his +opinion, consult my older experience, and hear what I have to say +on the subject. Don't suppose that I am attempting to make you +distrust this good friend," he added, noticing the look of uneasy +surprise which Isabel fixed on him. "No such idea is in my mind. +I only warn you that Moody's eagerness to be of service to you +may mislead him. You understand me." + +"Yes, sir," replied Isabel coldly; "I understand you. Please let +me go now. My aunt will be down directly; and she must not find +me here." She curtseyed with distant respect, and left the room. + +"So much for trying to put two ideas together into a girl's +mind!" thought Mr. Troy, when he was alone again. "The little +fool evidently thinks I am jealous of Moody's place in her +estimation. Well! I have done my duty--and I can do no more." + +He looked round the room. Not a chair was out of its place, not a +speck of dust was to be seen. The brightly-perfect polish of the +table made your eyes ache; the ornaments on it looked as if they +had never been touched by mortal hand; the piano was an object +for distant admiration, not an instrument to be played on; the +carpet made Mr. Troy look nervously at the soles of his shoes; +and the sofa (protected by layers of white crochet-work) said as +plainly as if in words, "Sit on me if you dare!" Mr. Troy +retreated to a bookcase at the further end of the room. The books +fitted the shelves to such absolute perfection that he had some +difficulty in taking one of them out. When he had succeeded, he +found himself in possession of a volume of the History of +England. On the fly-leaf he encountered another written +warning:--"This book belongs to Miss Pink's Academy for Young +Ladies, and is not to be removed from the library." The date, +which was added, referred to a period of ten years since. Miss +Pink now stood revealed as a retired schoolmistress, and Mr. Troy +began to understand some of the characteristic peculiarities of +that lady's establishment which had puzzled him up to the present +time. + +He had just succeeded in putting the book back again when the +door opened once more, and Isabel's aunt entered the room. + +If Miss Pink could, by any possible conjuncture of circumstances, +have disappeared mysteriously from her house and her friends, the +police would have found the greatest difficulty in composing the +necessary description of the missing lady. The acutest observer +could have discovered nothing that was noticeable or +characteristic in her personal appearance. The pen of the present +writer portrays her in despair by a series of negatives. She was +not young, she was not old; she was neither tall nor short, nor +stout nor thin; nobody could call her features attractive, and +nobody could call them ugly; there was nothing in her voice, her +expression, her manner, or her dress that differed in any +appreciable degree from the voice, expression, manner, and dress +of five hundred thousand other single ladies of her age and +position in the world. If you had asked her to describe herself, +she would have answered, "I am a gentlew oman"; and if you had +further inquired which of her numerous accomplishments took +highest rank in her own esteem, she would have replied, "My +powers of conversation." For the rest, she was Miss Pink, of +South Morden; and, when that has been said, all has been said. + +"Pray be seated, sir. We have had a beautiful day, after the +long-continued wet weather. I am told that the season is very +unfavorable for wall-fruit. May I offer you some refreshment +after your journey?" In these terms and in the smoothest of +voices, Miss Pink opened the interview. + +Mr. Troy made a polite reply, and added a few strictly +conventional remarks on the beauty of the neighborhood. Not even +a lawyer could sit in Miss Pink's presence, and hear Miss Pink's +conversation, without feeling himself called upon (in the nursery +phrase) to "be on his best behavior". + +"It is extremely kind of you, Mr. Troy, to favor me with this +visit," Miss Pink resumed. "I am well aware that the time of +professional gentlemen is of especial value to them; and I will +therefore ask you to excuse me if I proceed abruptly to the +subject on which I desire to consult your experience." + +Here the lady modestly smoothed out her dress over her knees, and +the lawyer made a bow. Miss Pink's highly-trained conversation +had perhaps one fault--it was not, strictly speaking, +conversation at all. In its effect on her hearers it rather +resembled the contents of a fluently conventional letter, read +aloud. + +"The circumstances under which my niece Isabel has left Lady +Lydiard's house," Miss Pink proceeded, "are so indescribably +painful--I will go further, I will say so deeply +humiliating--that I have forbidden her to refer to them again in +my presence, or to mention them in the future to any living +creature besides myself. You are acquainted with those +circumstances, Mr. Troy; and you will understand my indignation +when I first learnt that my sister's child had been suspected of +theft. I have not the honor of being acquainted with Lady +Lydiard. She is not a Countess, I believe? Just so! Her husband +was only a Baron. I am not acquainted with Lady Lydiard; and I +will not trust myself to say what I think of her conduct to my +niece." + +"Pardon me, madam," Mr. Troy interposed. "Before you say any more +about Lady Lydiard, I really must beg leave to observe--" + +"Pardon _me_," Miss Pink rejoined. "I never form a hasty +judgment. Lady Lydiard's conduct is beyond the reach of any +defense, no matter how ingenious it may be. You may not be aware, +sir, that in receiving my niece under her roof her Ladyship was +receiving a gentlewoman by birth as well as by education. My late +lamented sister was the daughter of a clergyman of the Church of +England. I need hardly remind you that, as such, she was a born +lady. Under favoring circumstances, Isabel's maternal grandfather +might have been Archbishop of Canterbury, and have taken +precedence of the whole House of Peers, the Princes of the blood +Royal alone excepted. I am not prepared to say that my niece is +equally well connected on her father's side. My sister +surprised--I will not add shocked--us when she married a chemist. +At the same time, a chemist is not a tradesman. He is a gentleman +at one end of the profession of Medicine, and a titled physician +is a gentleman at the other end. That is all. In inviting Isabel +to reside with her, Lady Lydiard, I repeat, was bound to remember +that she was associating herself with a young gentlewoman. She +has _not_ remembered this, which is one insult; and she has +suspected my niece of theft, which is another." + +Miss Pink paused to take breath. Mr. Troy made a second attempt +to get a hearing. + +"Will you kindly permit me, madam, to say a few words?" + +"No!" said Miss Pink, asserting the most immovable obstinacy +under the blandest politeness of manner. "Your time, Mr. Troy, is +really too valuable! Not even your trained intellect can excuse +conduct which is manifestly _in_excusable on the face of it. Now +you know my opinion of Lady Lydiard, you will not be surprised to +hear that I decline to trust her Ladyship. She may, or she may +not, cause the necessary inquiries to be made for the vindication +of my niece's character. In a matter so serious as this--I may +say, in a duty which I owe to the memories of my sister and my +parents--I will not leave the responsibility to Lady Lydiard. I +will take it on myself. Let me add that I am able to pay the +necessary expenses. The earlier years of my life, Mr. Troy, have +been passed in the tuition of young ladies. I have been happy in +meriting the confidence of parents; and I have been strict in +observing the golden rules of economy. On my retirement, I have +been able to invest a modest, a very modest, little fortune in +the Funds. A portion of it is at the service of my niece for the +recovery of her good name; and I desire to place the necessary +investigation confidentially in your hands. You are acquainted +with the case, and the case naturally goes to you. I could not +prevail on myself--I really could not prevail on myself--to +mention it to a stranger. That is the business on which I wished +to consult you. Please say nothing more about Lady Lydiard--the +subject is inexpressibly disagreeable to me. I will only trespass +on your kindness to tell me if I have succeeded in making myself +understood." + +Miss Pink leaned back in her chair, at the exact angle permitted +by the laws of propriety; rested her left elbow on the palm of +her right hand, and lightly supported her cheek with her +forefinger and thumb. In this position she waited Mr. Troy's +answer--the living picture of human obstinacy in its most +respectable form. + +If Mr. Troy had not been a lawyer--in other words, if he had not +been professionally capable of persisting in his own course, in +the face of every conceivable difficulty and discouragement--Miss +Pink might have remained in undisturbed possession of her own +opinions. As it was, Mr. Troy had got his hearing at last; and no +matter how obstinately she might close her eyes to it, Miss Pink +was now destined to have the other side of the case presented to +her view. + +"I am sincerely obliged to you, madam, for the expression of your +confidence in me," Mr. Troy began; "at the same time, I must beg +you to excuse me if I decline to accept your proposal." + +Miss Pink had not expected to receive such an answer as this. The +lawyer's brief refusal surprised and annoyed her. + +"Why do you decline to assist me?" she asked. + +"Because," answered Mr. Troy, "my services are already engaged, +in Miss Isabel's interest, by a client whom I have served for +more than twenty years. My client is--" + +Miss Pink anticipated the coming disclosure. "You need not +trouble yourself, sir, to mention your client's name," she said. + +"My client," persisted Mr. Troy, "loves Miss Isabel dearly." + +"That is a matter of opinion," Miss Pink interposed. + +"And believes in Miss Isabel's innocence," proceeded the +irrepressible lawyer, "as firmly as you believe in it yourself." + +Miss Pink (being human) had a temper; and Mr. Troy had found his +way to it. + +"If Lady Lydiard believes in my niece's innocence," said Miss +Pink, suddenly sitting bolt upright in her chair, "why has my +niece been compelled, in justice to herself, to leave Lady +Lydiard's house?" + +"You will admit, madam," Mr. Troy answered cautiously, "that we +are all of us liable, in this wicked world, to be the victims of +appearances. Your niece is a victim--an innocent victim. She +wisely withdraws from Lady Lydiard's house until appearances are +proved to be false and her position is cleared up." + +Miss Pink had her reply ready. "That is simply acknowledging, in +other words, that my niece is suspected. I am only a woman, Mr. +Troy--but it is not quite so easy to mislead me as you seem to +suppose." + +Mr. Troy's temper was admirably trained. But it began to +acknowledge that Miss Pink's powers of irritation could sting to +some purpose. + +"No intention of misleading you, madam, has ever crossed my +mind," he rejoined warmly. "As for your niece, I can tell you +this. In all my experience of Lady Lydiard, I never saw her so +distressed as she was when Miss Isabel left the house!" + +"Indeed!" said Miss Pink, with an incredulous smile. "In my rank +of life, when we feel distressed about a person, we do our best +to comfort that person by a kind letter or an early visit. But +then I am not a lady of title." + +"Lady Lydiard engaged herself to call on Miss Isabel in my +hearing," said Mr. Troy. "Lady Lydiard is the most generous woman +living!" + +"Lady Lydiard is here!" cried a joyful voice on the other side of +the door. + +At the same moment, Isabel burst into the room in a state of +excitement which actually ignored the formidable presence of Miss +Pink. "I beg your pardon, aunt! I was upstairs at the window, and +I saw the carriage stop at the gate. And Tommie has come, too! +The darling saw me at the window!" cried the poor girl, her eyes +sparkling with delight as a perfect explosion of barking made +itself heard over the tramp of horses' feet and the crash of +carriage wheels outside. + +Miss Pink rose slowly, with a dignity that looked capable of +adequately receiving--not one noble lady only, but the whole +peerage of England. + +"Control yourself, dear Isabel," she said. "No well-bred young +lady permits herself to become unduly excited. Stand by my +side--a little behind me." + +Isabel obeyed. Mr. Troy kept his place, and privately enjoyed his +triumph over Miss Pink. If Lady Lydiard had been actually in +league with him, she could not have chosen a more opportune time +for her visit. A momentary interval passed. The carriage drew up +at the door; the horses trampled on the gravel; the bell rung +madly; the uproar of Tommie, released from the carriage and +clamoring to be let in, redoubled its fury. Never before had such +an unruly burst of noises invaded the tranquility of Miss Pink's +villa! + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE trim little maid-servant ran upstairs from her modest little +kitchen, trembling at the terrible prospect of having to open the +door. Miss Pink, deafened by the barking, had just time to say, +"What a very ill-behaved dog!" when a sound of small objects +overthrown in the hall, and a scurrying of furious claws across +the oil-cloth, announced that Tommie had invaded the house. As +the servant appeared, introducing Lady Lydiard, the dog ran in. +He made one frantic leap at Isabel, which would certainly have +knocked her down but for the chair that happened to be standing +behind her. Received on her lap, the faithful creature half +smothered her with his caresses. He barked, he shrieked, in his +joy at seeing her again. He jumped off her lap and tore round and +round the room at the top of his speed; and every time he passed +Miss Pink he showed the whole range of his teeth and snarled +ferociously at her ankles. Having at last exhausted his +superfluous energy, he leaped back again on Isabel's lap, with +his tongue quivering in his open mouth--his tail wagging softly, +and his eye on Miss Pink, inquiring how she liked a dog in her +drawing-room! + +"I hope my dog has not disturbed you, ma'am?" said Lady Lydiard, +advancing from the mat at the doorway, on which she had patiently +waited until the raptures of Tommie subsided into repose. + +Miss Pink, trembling between terror and indignation, acknowledged +Lady Lydiard's polite inquiry by a ceremonious bow, and an answer +which administered by implication a dignified reproof. "Your +Ladyship's dog does not appear to be a very well-trained animal," +the ex-schoolmistress remarked. + +"Well trained?" Lady Lydiard repeated, as if the expression was +perfectly unintelligible to her. "I don't think you have had much +experience of dogs, ma'am." She turned to Isabel, and embraced +her tenderly. "Give me a kiss, my dear--you don't know how +wretched I have been since you left me." She looked back again at +Miss Pink. "You are not, perhaps, aware, ma'am, that my dog is +devotedly attached to your niece. A dog's love has been +considered by many great men (whose names at the moment escape +me) as the most touching and disinterested of all earthly +affections." She looked the other way, and discovered the lawyer. +"How do you do, Mr. Troy? It's a pleasant surprise to find you +here The house was so dull without Isabel that I really couldn't +put off seeing her any longer. When you are more used to Tommie, +Miss Pink, you will understand and admire him. _You_ understand +and admire him, Isabel--don't you? My child! you are not looking +well. I shall take you back with me, when the horses have had +their rest. We shall never be happy away from each other." + +Having expressed her sentiments, distributed her greetings, and +defended her dog--all, as it were, in one breath--Lady Lydiard +sat down by Isabel's side, and opened a large green fan that hung +at her girdle. "You have no idea, Miss Pink, how fat people +suffer in hot weather," said the old lady, using her fan +vigorously. + +Miss Pink's eyes dropped modestly to the ground--"fat" was such a +coarse word to use, if a lady _must_ speak of her own superfluous +flesh! "May I offer some refreshment?" Miss Pink asked, +mincingly. "A cup of tea?" + +Lady Lydiard shook her head. + +"A glass of water?" + +Lady Lydiard declined this last hospitable proposal with an +exclamation of disgust. "Have you got any beer?" she inquired. + +"I beg your Ladyship's pardon," said Miss Pink, doubting the +evidence of her own ears. "Did you say--beer?" + +Lady Lydiard gesticulated vehemently with her fan. "Yes, to be +sure! Beer! beer!" + +Miss Pink rose, with a countenance expressive of genteel disgust, +and rang the bell. "I think you have beer downstairs, Susan?" she +said, when the maid appeared at the door. + +"Yes, miss." + +"A glass of beer for Lady Lydiard," said Miss Pink--under +protest. + +"Bring it in a jug," shouted her Ladyship, as the maid left the +room. "I like to froth it up for myself," she continued, +addressing Miss Pink. "Isabel sometimes does it for me, when she +is at home--don't you, my dear?" + +Miss Pink had been waiting her opportunity to assert her own +claim to the possession of her own niece, from the time when Lady +Lydiard had coolly declared her intention of taking Isabel back +with her. The opportunity now presented itself. + +"Your Ladyship will pardon me," she said, "if I remark that my +niece's home is under my humble roof. I am properly sensible, I +hope, of your kindness to Isabel, but while she remains the +object of a disgraceful suspicion she remains with me." + +Lady Lydiard closed her fan with an angry snap. + +"You are completely mistaken, Miss Pink. You may not mean it--but +you speak most unjustly if you say that your niece is an object +of suspicion to me, or to anybody in my house." + +Mr. Troy, quietly listening up to this point now interposed to +stop the discussion before it could degenerate into a personal +quarrel. His keen observation, aided by his accurate knowledge of +his client's character, had plainly revealed to him what was +passing in Lady Lydiard's mind. She had entered the house, +feeling (perhaps unconsciously) a jealousy of Miss Pink, as her +predecessor in Isabel's affections, and as the natural +protectress of the girl under existing circumstances. Miss Pink's +reception of her dog had additionally irritated the old lady. She +had taken a malicious pleasure in shocking the schoolmistress's +sense of propriety--and she was now only too ready to proceed to +further extremities on the delicate question of Isabel's +justification for leaving her house. For Isabel's own sake, +therefore--to say nothing of other reasons--it was urgently +desirable to keep the peace between the two ladies. With this +excellent object in view, Mr. Troy seized his opportunity of +striking into the conversation for the first time. + +"Pardon me, Lady Lydiard," he said, "you are speaking of a +subject which has been already sufficiently discussed between +Miss Pink and myself. I think we shall do better not to dwell +uselessly on past events, but to direct our attention to the +future. We are all equally satisfied of the complete rectitude of +Miss Isabel's conduct, and we are all equally interested in the +vindication of her good name." + +Whether these temperate words would of themselves have exercised +the pacifying influence at which Mr. Troy aimed may be doubtful. +But, as he ceased speaking, a powerful auxiliary appeared in the +shape of the beer. Lady Lydiard seized on the jug, a nd filled +the tumbler for herself with an unsteady hand. Miss Pink, +trembling for the integrity of her carpet, and scandalized at +seeing a peeress drinking beer like a washer-woman, forgot the +sharp answer that was just rising to her lips when the lawyer +interfered. "Small!" said Lady Lydiard, setting down the empty +tumbler, and referring to the quality of the beer. "But very +pleasant and refreshing. What's the servant's name? Susan? Well, +Susan, I was dying of thirst and you have saved my life. You can +leave the jug--I dare say I shall empty it before I go." + +Mr. Troy, watching Miss Pink's face, saw that it was time to +change the subject again. + +"Did you notice the old village, Lady Lydiard, on your way here?" +he asked. "The artists consider it one of the most picturesque +places in England." + +"I noticed that it was a very dirty village," Lady Lydiard +answered, still bent on making herself disagreeable to Miss Pink. +The artists may say what they please; I see nothing to admire in +rotten cottages, and bad drainage, and ignorant people. I suppose +the neighborhood has its advantages. It looks dull enough, to my +mind." + +Isabel had hitherto modestly restricted her exertions to keeping +Tommie quiet on her lap. Like Mr. Troy, she occasionally looked +at her aunt--and she now made a timid attempt to defend the +neighborhood as a duty that she owed to Miss Pink. + +"Oh, my Lady! don't say it's a dull neighborhood," she pleaded. +"There are such pretty walks all round us. And, when you get to +the hills, the view is beautiful." + +Lady Lydiard's answer to this was a little masterpiece of +good-humored contempt. She patted Isabel's cheek, and said, +"Pooh! Pooh!" + +"Your Ladyship does not admire the beauties of Nature," Miss Pink +remarked, with a compassionate smile. "As we get older, no doubt +our sight begins to fail--" + +"And we leave off canting about the beauties of Nature," added +Lady Lydiard. "I hate the country. Give me London, and the +pleasures of society." + +"Come! come! Do the country justice, Lady Lydiard!" put in +peace-making Mr. Troy. "There is plenty of society to be found +out of London--as good society as the world can show." + +"The sort of society," added Miss Pink, "which is to be found, +for example, in this neighborhood. Her Ladyship is evidently not +aware that persons of distinction surround us, whichever way we +turn. I may instance among others, the Honorable Mr. Hardyman--" + +Lady Lydiard, in the act of pouring out a second glassful of +beer, suddenly set down the jug. + +"Who is that you're talking of, Miss Pink?" + +"I am talking of our neighbor, Lady Lydiard--the Honorable Mr. +Hardyman." + +"Do you mean Alfred Hardyman--the man who breeds the horses?" + +"The distinguished gentleman who owns the famous stud-farm," said +Miss Pink, correcting the bluntly-direct form in which Lady +Lydiard had put her question. + +"Is he in the habit of visiting here?" the old lady inquired, +with a sudden appearance of anxiety. "Do you know him?" + +"I had the honor of being introduced to Mr. Hardyman at our last +flower show," Miss Pink replied. "He has not yet favored me with +a visit." + +Lady Lydiard's anxiety appeared to be to some extent relieved. + +"I knew that Hardyman's farm was in this county," she said; "but +I had no notion that it was in the neighborhood of South Morden. +How far away is he--ten or a dozen miles, eh?" + +"Not more than three miles," answered Miss Pink. "We consider him +quite a near neighbor of ours." + +Renewed anxiety showed itself in Lady Lydiard. She looked round +sharply at Isabel. The girl's head was bent so low over the rough +head of the dog that her face was almost entirely concealed from +view. So far as appearances went, she seemed to be entirely +absorbed in fondling Tommie. Lady Lydiard roused her with a tap +of the green fan. + +"Take Tommie out, Isabel, for a run in the garden," she said. "He +won't sit still much longer--and he may annoy Miss Pink. Mr. +Troy, will you kindly help Isabel to keep my ill-trained dog in +order?" + +Mr. Troy got on his feet, and, not very willingly, followed +Isabel out of the room. "They will quarrel now, to a dead +certainty!" he thought to himself, as he closed the door. "Have +you any idea of what this means?" he said to his companion, as he +joined her in the hall. "What has Mr. Hardyman done to excite all +this interest in him?" + +Isabel's guilty color rose. She knew perfectly well that +Hardyman's unconcealed admiration of her was the guiding motive +of Lady Lydiard's inquiries. If she had told the truth, Mr. Troy +would have unquestionably returned to the drawing-room, with or +without an acceptable excuse for intruding himself. But Isabel +was a woman; and her answer, it is needless to say, was "I don't +know, I'm sure." + +In the mean time, the interview between the two ladies began in a +manner which would have astonished Mr. Troy--they were both +silent. For once in her life Lady Lydiard was considering what +she should say, before she said it. Miss Pink, on her side, +naturally waited to hear what object her Ladyship had in +view--waited, until her small reserve of patience gave way. Urged +by irresistible curiosity, she spoke first. + +"Have you anything to say to me in private?" she asked. + +Lady Lydiard had not got to the end of her reflections. She said +"Yes!" --and she said no more. + +"Is it anything relating to my niece?" persisted Miss Pink. + +Still immersed in her reflections, Lady Lydiard suddenly rose to +the surface, and spoke her mind, as usual. + +"About your niece, ma'am. The other day Mr. Hardyman called at my +house, and saw Isabel." + +"Yes," said Miss Pink, politely attentive, but not in the least +interested, so far. + +"That's not all ma'am. Mr. Hardyman admires Isabel; he owned it +to me himself in so many words." + +Miss Pink listened, with a courteous inclination of her head. She +looked mildly gratified, nothing more. Lady Lydiard proceeded: + +"You and I think differently on many matters," she said. "But we +are both agreed, I am sure, in feeling the sincerest interest in +Isabel's welfare. I beg to suggest to you, Miss Pink, that Mr. +Hardyman, as a near neighbor of yours, is a very undesirable +neighbor while Isabel remains in your house." + +Saying those words, under a strong conviction of the serious +importance of the subject, Lady Lydiard insensibly recovered the +manner and resumed the language which befitted a lady of her +rank. Miss Pink, noticing the change, set it down to an +expression of pride on the part of her visitor which, in +referring to Isabel, assailed indirectly the social position of +Isabel's aunt. + +"I fail entirely to understand what your Ladyship means," she +said coldly. + +Lady Lydiard, on her side, looked in undisguised amazement at +Miss Pink. + +"Haven't I told you already that Mr. Hardyman admires your +niece?" she asked. + +"Naturally," said Miss Pink. "Isabel inherits her lamented +mother's personal advantages. If Mr. Hardyman admires her, Mr. +Hardyman shows his good taste." + +Lady Lydiard's eyes opened wider and wider in wonder. "My good +lady!" she exclaimed, "is it possible you don't know that when a +man admires a women he doesn't stop there? He falls in love with +her (as the saying is) next." + +"So I have heard," said Miss Pink. + +"So you have _heard?_" repeated Lady Lydiard. "If Mr. Hardyman +finds his way to Isabel I can tell you what you will _see_. Catch +the two together, ma'am--and you will see Mr. Hardyman making +love to your niece." + +"Under due restrictions, Lady Lydiard, and with my permission +first obtained, of course, I see no objection to Mr. Hardyman +paying his addresses to Isabel." + +"The woman is mad!" cried Lady Lydiard. "Do you actually suppose, +Miss Pink, that Alfred Hardyman could, by any earthly +possibility, marry your niece!" + +Not even Miss Pink's politeness could submit to such a question +as this. She rose indignantly from her chair. "As you aware, Lady +Lydiard, that the doubt you have just expressed is an insult to +my niece, and a insult to Me?" + +"Are _you_ aware of who Mr. Hardyman really is?" retorted her +Ladyship. "Or do you judge of his position by the vocation in +life which he has perversely chosen to adopt? I can tell you, if +you do, that Alfred Hardyman is the younger son of one of the + oldest barons in the English Peerage, and that his mother is +related by marriage to the Royal family of Wurtemberg." + +Miss Pink received the full shock of this information without +receding from her position by a hair-breadth. + +"An English gentlewoman offers a fit alliance to any man living +who seeks her hand in marriage," said Miss Pink. "Isabel's mother +(you may not be aware of it) was the daughter of an English +clergyman--" + +"And Isabel's father was a chemist in a country town," added Lady +Lydiard. + +"Isabel's father," rejoined Miss Pink, "was attached in a most +responsible capacity to the useful and honorable profession of +Medicine. Isabel is, in the strictest sense of the word, a young +gentlewoman. If you contradict that for a single instant, Lady +Lydiard, you will oblige me to leave the room." + +Those last words produced a result which Miss Pink had not +anticipated--they roused Lady Lydiard to assert herself. As usual +in such cases, she rose superior to her own eccentricity. +Confronting Miss Pink, she now spoke and looked with the gracious +courtesy and the unpresuming self-confidence of the order to +which she belonged. + +"For Isabel's own sake, and for the quieting of my conscience," +she answered, "I will say one word more, Miss Pink, before I +relieve you of my presence. Considering my age and my +opportunities, I may claim to know quite as much as you do of the +laws and customs which regulate society in our time. Without +contesting your niece's social position--and without the +slightest intention of insulting you--I repeat that the rank +which Mr. Hardyman inherits makes it simply impossible for him +even to think of marrying Isabel. You will do well not to give +him any opportunities of meeting with her alone. And you will do +better still (seeing that he is so near a neighbor of yours) if +you permit Isabel to return to my protection, for a time at +least. I will wait to hear from you when you have thought the +matter over at your leisure. In the mean time, if I have +inadvertently offended you, I ask your pardon--and I wish you +good-evening." + +She bowed, and walked to the door. Miss Pink, as resolute as ever +in maintaining her pretensions, made an effort to match the great +lady on her own ground. + +"Before you go, Lady Lydiard, I beg to apologize if I have spoken +too warmly on my side," she said. "Permit me to send for your +carriage." + +"Thank you, Miss Pink. My carriage is only at the village inn. I +shall enjoy a little walk in the cool evening air. Mr. Troy, I +have no doubt, will give me his arm." She bowed once more, and +quietly left the room. + +Reaching the little back garden of the villa, through an open +door at the further end of the hall, Lady Lydiard found Tommie +rolling luxuriously on Miss Pink's flower-beds, and Isabel and +Mr. Troy in close consultation on the gravel walk. + +She spoke to the lawyer first. + +"They are baiting the horses at the inn," she said. "I want your +arm, Mr. Troy, as far as the village--and, in return, I will take +you back to London with me. I have to ask your advice about one +or two little matters, and this is a good opportunity." + +"With the greatest pleasure, Lady Lydiard. I suppose I must say +good-by to Miss Pink?" + +"A word of advice to you, Mr. Troy. Take care how you ruffle Miss +Pink's sense of her own importance. Another word for your private +ear. Miss Pink is a fool." + +On the lawyer's withdrawal, Lady Lydiard put her arm fondly round +Isabel's waist. "What were you and Mr. Troy so busy in talking +about?" she asked. + +"We were talking, my Lady, about tracing the person who stole the +money," Isabel answered, rather sadly. "It seems a far more +difficult matter than I supposed it to be. I try not to lose +patience and hope--but it is a little hard to feel that +appearances are against me, and to wait day after day in vain for +the discovery that is to set me right." + +"You are a dear good child," said Lady Lydiard; "and you are more +precious to me than ever. Don't despair, Isabel. With Mr. Troy's +means of inquiring, and with my means of paying, the discovery of +the thief cannot be much longer delayed. If you don't return to +me soon, I shall come back and see you again. Your aunt hates the +sight of me--but I don't care two straws for that," remarked Lady +Lydiard, showing the undignified side of her character once more. +"Listen to me, Isabel! I have no wish to lower your aunt in your +estimation, but I feel far more confidence in your good sense +than in hers. Mr. Hardyman's business has taken him to France for +the present. It is at least possible that you may meet with him +on his return. If you do, keep him at a distance, my +dear--politely, of course. There! there! you needn't turn red; I +am not blaming you; I am only giving you a little good advice. In +your position you cannot possibly be too careful. Here is Mr. +Troy! You must come to the gate with us, Isabel, or we shall +never get Tommie away from you; I am only his second favorite; +you have the first place in his affections. God bless and prosper +you, my child!--I wish to heaven you were going back to London +with me! Well, Mr. Troy, how have you done with Miss Pink? Have +you offended that terrible 'gentlewoman' (hateful word!); or has +it been all the other way, and has she given you a kiss at +parting?" + +Mr. Troy smiled mysteriously, and changed the subject. His brief +parting interview with the lady of the house was not of a nature +to be rashly related. Miss Pink had not only positively assured +him that her visitor was the most ill-bred woman she had ever met +with, but had further accused Lady Lydiard of shaking her +confidence in the aristocracy of her native country. "For the +first time in my life," said Miss Pink, "I feel that something is +to be said for the Republican point of view; and I am not +indisposed to admit that the constitution of the United States +_has_ its advantages!" + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE conference between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy, on the way back +to London, led to some practical results. + +Hearing from her legal adviser that the inquiry after the missing +money was for a moment at a standstill, Lady Lydiard made one of +those bold suggestions with which she was accustomed to startle +her friends in cases of emergency. She had heard favorable +reports of the extraordinary ingenuity of the French police; and +she now proposed sending to Paris for assistance, after first +consulting her nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir. "Felix knows Paris as +well as he knows London," she remarked. "He is an idle man, and +it is quite likely that he will relieve us of all trouble by +taking the matter into his own hands. In any case, he is sure to +know who are the right people to address in our present +necessity. What do you say?" + +Mr. Troy, in reply, expressed his doubts as to the wisdom of +employing foreigners in a delicate investigation which required +an accurate knowledge of English customs and English character. +Waiving this objection, he approved of the idea of consulting her +Ladyship's nephew. "Mr. Sweetsir is a man of the world," he said. +"In putting the case before him, we are sure to have it presented +to us from a new point of view." Acting on this favorable +expression of opinion, Lady Lydiard wrote to her nephew. On the +day after the visit to Miss Pink, the proposed council of three +was held at Lady Lydiard's house. + +Felix, never punctual at keeping an appointment, was even later +than usual on this occasion. He made his apologies with his hand +pressed upon his forehead, and his voice expressive of the +languor and discouragement of a suffering man. + +"The beastly English climate is telling on my nerves," said Mr. +Sweetsir--"the horrid weight of the atmosphere, after the +exhilarating air of Paris; the intolerable dirt and dullness of +London, you know. I was in bed, my dear aunt, when I received +your letter. You may imagine the completely demoralised?? state I +was in, when I tell you of the effect which the news of the +robbery produced on me. I fell back on my pillow, as if I had +been shot. Your Ladyship should really be a little more careful +in communicating these disagreeable surprises to a +sensitively-organised man. Never mind--my valet is a perfect +treasure; he brought me some drops of ether on a lump of sugar. I +said, 'Alfred' (his name is Alfred), 'put me into my clothes!' +Alfred put me in. I assure you it reminded me of my young days, +when I was put into my first pair of trousers. Has Alfred +forgotten anything? Have I got my braces on? Have I come out in +my shirt-sleeves? Well, dear aunt;--well, Mr. Troy!--what can I +say? What can I do?" + +Lady Lydiard, entirely without sympathy for nervous suffering, +nodded to the lawyer. "You tell him," she said. + +"I believe I speak for her Ladyship," Mr. Troy began, "when I say +that we should like to hear, in the first place, how the whole +case strikes you, Mr. Sweetsir?" + +"Tell it me all over again," said Felix. + +Patient Mr. Troy told it all over again--and waited for the +result. + +"Well?" said Felix. + +"Well?" said Mr. Troy. "Where does the suspicion of robbery rest +in your opinion? You look at the theft of the bank-note with a +fresh eye." + +"You mentioned a clergyman just now," said Felix. "The man, you +know, to whom the money was sent. What was his name?" + +"The Reverend Samuel Bradstock." + +"You want me to name the person whom I suspect?" + +"Yes, if you please," said Mr. Troy. + +"I suspect the Reverend Samuel Bradstock," said Felix. + +"If you have come here to make stupid jokes," interposed Lady +Lydiard, "you had better go back to your bed again. We want a +serious opinion." + +"You _have_ a serious opinion," Felix coolly rejoined. "I never +was more in earnest in my life. Your Ladyship is not aware of the +first principle to be adopted in cases of suspicion. One proceeds +on what I will call the exhaustive system of reasoning. Thus: +Does suspicion point to the honest servants downstairs? No. To +your Ladyship's adopted daughter? Appearances are against the +poor girl; but you know her better than to trust to appearances. +Are you suspicious of Moody? No. Of Hardyman--who was in the +house at the time? Ridiculous! But I was in the house at the +time, too. Do you suspect Me? Just so! That idea is ridiculous, +too. Now let us sum up. Servants, adopted daughter, Moody, +Hardyman, Sweetsir--all beyond suspicion. Who is left? The +Reverend Samuel Bradstock." + +This ingenious exposition of "the exhaustive system of +reasoning," failed to produce any effect on Lady Lydiard. "You +are wasting our time," she said sharply. "You know as well as I +do that you are talking nonsense." + +"I don't," said Felix. "Taking the gentlemanly professions all +round, I know of no men who are so eager to get money, and who +have so few scruples about how they get it, as the parsons. Where +is there a man in any other profession who perpetually worries +you for money?--who holds the bag under your nose for money?--who +sends his clerk round from door to door to beg a few shillings of +you, and calls it an 'Easter offering'? The parson does all this. +Bradstock is a parson. I put it logically. Bowl me over, if you +can." + +Mr. Troy attempted to "bowl him over," nevertheless. Lady Lydiard +wisely interposed. + +"When a man persists in talking nonsense," she said, "silence is +the best answer; anything else only encourages him." She turned +to Felix. "I have a question to ask you," she went on. "You will +either give me a serious reply, or wish me good-morning." With +this brief preface, she made her inquiry as to the wisdom and +possibility of engaging the services of the French police. + +Felix took exactly the view of the matter which had been already +expressed by Mr. Troy. "Superior in intelligence," he said, "but +not superior in courage, to the English police. Capable of +performing wonders on their own ground and among their own +people. But, my dear aunt, the two most dissimilar nations on the +face of the earth are the English and the French. The French +police may speak our language--but they are incapable of +understanding our national character and our national manners. +Set them to work on a private inquiry in the city of Pekin--and +they would get on in time with the Chinese people. Set them to +work in the city of London--and the English people would remain, +from first to last, the same impenetrable mystery to them. In my +belief the London Sunday would be enough of itself to drive them +back to Paris in despair. No balls, no concerts, no theaters, not +even a museum or a picture-gallery open; every shop shut up but +the gin-shop; and nothing moving but the church bells and the men +who sell the penny ices. Hundreds of Frenchmen come to see me on +their first arrival in England. Every man of them rushes back to +Paris on the second Saturday of his visit, rather than confront +the horrors of a second Sunday in London! However, you can try it +if you like. Send me a written abstract of the case, and I will +forward it to one of the official people in the Rue Jerusalem, +who will do anything he can to oblige me. Of course," said Felix, +turning to Mr. Troy, "some of you have got the number of the lost +bank-note? If the thief has tried to pass it in Paris, my man may +be of some use to you." + +"Three of us have got the number of the note," answered Mr. Troy; +"Miss Isabel Miller, Mr. Moody, and myself." + +"Very good," said Felix. "Send me the number, with the abstract +of the case. Is there anything else I can do towards recovering +the money?" he asked, turning to his aunt. "There is one lucky +circumstance in connection with this loss--isn't there? It has +fallen on a person who is rich enough to take it easy. Good +heavens! suppose it had been _my_ loss!" + +"It has fallen doubly on me," said Lady Lydiard; "and I am +certainly not rich enough to take it _that_ easy. The money was +destined to a charitable purpose; and I have felt it my duty to +pay it again." + +Felix rose and approached his aunt's chair with faltering steps, +as became a suffering man. He took Lady Lydiard's hand and kissed +it with enthusiastic admiration. + +"You excellent creature!" he said. "You may not think it, but you +reconcile me to human nature. How generous! how noble! I think +I'll go to bed again, Mr. Troy, if you really don't want any more +of me. My head feels giddy and my legs tremble under me. It +doesn't matter; I shall feel easier when Alfred has taken me out +of my clothes again. God bless you, my dear aunt! I never felt so +proud of being related to you as I do to-day. Good-morning Mr. +Troy! Don't forget the abstract of the case; and don't trouble +yourself to see me to the door. I dare say I shan't tumble +downstairs; and, if I do, there's the porter in the hall to pick +me up again. Enviable porter! as fat as butter and as idle as a +pig! _Au revoir! au revoir!_" He kissed his hand, and drifted +feebly out of the room. Sweetsir one might say, in a state of +eclipse; but still the serviceable Sweetsir, who was never +consulted in vain by the fortunate people privileged to call him +friend! + +"Is he really ill, do you think?" Mr. Troy asked. + +"My nephew has turned fifty," Lady Lydiard answered, "and he +persists in living as if he was a young man. Every now and then +Nature says to him, 'Felix, you are old!' And Felix goes to bed, +and says it's his nerves." + +"I suppose he is to be trusted to keep his word about writing to +Paris?" pursued the lawyer. + +"Oh, yes! He may delay doing it but he will do it. In spite of +his lackadaisical manner, he has moments of energy that would +surprise you. Talking of surprises, I have something to tell you +about Moody. Within the last day or two there has been a marked +change in him--a change for the worse." + +"You astonish me, Lady Lydiard! In what way has Moody +deteriorated?" + +"You shall hear. Yesterday was Friday. You took him out with you, +on business, early in the morning." + +Mr. Troy bowed, and said nothing. He had not thought it desirable +to mention the interview at which Old Sharon had cheated him of +his guinea. + +"In the course of the afternoon," pursued Lady Lydiard, "I +happened to want him, and I was informed that Moody had gone out +again. Where had he gone? Nobody knew. Had he left word when he +would be back? He had left no message of any sort. Of course, he +is not in the position of an ordinary servant. I don't expect him +to ask permission to go out. But I do expect him to leave word +downstairs of the time at which he is likely to return. When he +did + come back, after an absence of some hours, I naturally asked for +an explanation. Would you believe it? he simply informed me that +he had been away on business of his own; expressed no regret, and +offered no explanation--in short, spoke as if he was an +independent gentleman. You may not think it, but I kept my +temper. I merely remarked that I hoped it would not happen again. +He made me a bow, and he said, 'My business is not completed yet, +my Lady. I cannot guarantee that it may not call me away again at +a moment's notice.' What do you think of that? Nine people out of +ten would have given him warning to leave their service. I begin +to think I am a wonderful woman--I only pointed to the door. One +does hear sometimes of men's brains softening in the most +unexpected manner. I have my suspicions of Moody's brains, I can +tell you." + +Mr. Troy's suspicions took a different direction: they pointed +along the line of streets which led to Old Sharon's lodgings. +Discreetly silent as to the turn which his thoughts had taken, he +merely expressed himself as feeling too much surprised to offer +any opinion at all. + +"Wait a little," said Lady Lydiard, "I haven't done surprising +you yet. You have been a boy here in a page's livery, I think? +Well, he is a good boy; and he has gone home for a week's holiday +with his friends. The proper person to supply his place with the +boots and shoes and other small employments, is of course the +youngest footman, a lad only a few years older than himself. What +do you think Moody does? Engages a stranger, with the house full +of idle men-servants already, to fill the page's place. At +intervals this morning I heard them wonderfully merry in the +servants hall--_so_ merry that the noise and laughter found its +way upstairs to the breakfast-room. I like my servants to be in +good spirits; but it certainly did strike me that they were +getting beyond reasonable limits. I questioned my maid, and was +informed that the noise was all due to the jokes of the strangest +old man that ever was seen. In other words, to the person whom my +steward had taken it on himself to engage in the page's absence. +I spoke to Moody on the subject. He answered in an odd, confused +way, that he had exercised his discretion to the best of his +judgment and that (if I wished it), he would tell the old man to +keep his good spirits under better control. I asked him how he +came to hear of the man. He only answered, 'By accident, my +Lady'--and not one more word could I get out of him, good or bad. +Moody engages the servants, as you know; but on every other +occasion he has invariably consulted me before an engagement was +settled. I really don't feel at all sure about this person who +has been so strangely introduced into the house--he may be a +drunkard or a thief. I wish you would speak to Moody yourself, +Mr. Troy. Do you mind ringing the bell?" + +Mr. Troy rose, as a matter of course, and rang the bell. + +He was by this time, it is needless to say, convinced that Moody +had not only gone back to consult Old Sharon on his own +responsibility, but worse still, had taken the unwarrantable +liberty of introducing him, as a spy, into the house. To +communicate this explanation to Lady Lydiard would, in her +present humor, be simply to produce the dismissal of the steward +from her service. The only other alternative was to ask leave to +interrogate Moody privately, and, after duly reproving him, to +insist on the departure of Old Sharon as the one condition on +which Mr. Troy would consent to keep Lady Lydiard in ignorance of +the truth. + +"I think I shall manage better with Moody, if your Ladyship will +permit me to see him in private," the lawyer said. "Shall I go +downstairs and speak with him in his own room?" + +"Why should you trouble yourself to do that?" said her Ladyship. +"See him here; and I will go into the boudoir." + +As she made that reply, the footman appeared at the drawing-room +door. + +"Send Moody here," said Lady Lydiard. + +The footman's answer, delivered at that moment, assumed an +importance which was not expressed in the footman's words. "My +Lady," he said, "Mr. Moody has gone out." + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +WHILE the strange proceedings of the steward were the subject of +conversation between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy, Moody was alone +in his room, occupied in writing to Isabel. Being unwilling that +any eyes but his own should see the address, he had himself +posted his letter; the time that he had chosen for leaving the +house proving, unfortunately, to be also the time proposed by her +Ladyship for his interview with the lawyer. In ten minutes after +the footman had reported his absence, Moody returned. It was then +too late to present himself in the drawing-room. In the interval, +Mr. Troy had taken his leave, and Moody's position had dropped a +degree lower in Lady Lydiard's estimation. + +Isabel received her letter by the next morning's post. If any +justification of Mr. Troy's suspicions had been needed, the terms +in which Moody wrote would have amply supplied it. + + +"DEAR ISABEL (I hope I may call you 'Isabel' without offending +you, in your present trouble?)--I have a proposal to make, which, +whether you accept it or not, I beg you will keep a secret from +every living creature but ourselves. You will understand my +request, when I add that these lines relate to the matter of +tracing the stolen bank-note. + +"I have been privately in communication with a person in London, +who is, as I believe, the one person competent to help us in +gaining our end. He has already made many inquiries in private. +With some of them I am acquainted; the rest he has thus far kept +to himself. The person to whom I allude, particularly wishes to +have half an hour's conversation with you in my presence. I am +bound to warn you that he is a very strange and very ugly old +man; and I can only hope that you will look over his personal +appearance in consideration of what he is likely to do for your +future advantage. + +"Can you conveniently meet us, at the further end of the row of +villas in which your aunt lives, the day after to-morrow, at four +o'clock? Let me have a line to say if you will keep the +appointment, and if the hour named will suit you. And believe me +your devoted friend and servant, + + ROBERT MOODY." + + +The lawyer's warning to her to be careful how she yielded too +readily to any proposal of Moody's recurred to Isabel's mind +while she read those lines. Being pledged to secrecy, she could +not consult Mr. Troy--she was left to decide for herself. + +No obstacle stood in the way of her free choice of alternatives. +After their early dinner at three o'clock, Miss Pink habitually +retired to her own room "to meditate," as she expressed it. Her +"meditations" inevitably ended in a sound sleep of some hours; +and during that interval Isabel was at liberty to do as she +pleased. After considerable hesitation, her implicit belief in +Moody's truth and devotion, assisted by a strong feeling of +curiosity to see the companion with whom the steward had +associated himself, decided Isabel on consenting to keep the +appointment. + +Taking up her position beyond the houses, on the day and at the +hour mentioned by Moody, she believed herself to be fully +prepared for the most unfavorable impression which the most +disagreeable of all possible strangers could produce. + +But the first appearance of Old Sharon--as dirty as ever, clothed +in a long, frowzy, gray overcoat, with his pug-dog at his heels, +and his smoke-blackened pipe in his mouth, with a tan white hat +on his head, which looked as if it had been picked up in a +gutter, a hideous leer in his eyes, and a jaunty trip in his +walk--took her so completely by surprise that she could only +return Moody's friendly greeting by silently pressing his hand. +As for Moody's companion, to look at him for a second time was +more than she had resolution to do. She kept her eyes fixed on +the pug-dog, and with good reason; as far as appearances went, he +was indisputably the nobler animal of the two. + +Under the circumstances, the interview threatened to begin in a +very embarrassing manner. Moody, disheartened by Isabel's +silence, made no attempt to set the conversa tion going; he +looked as if he meditated a hasty retreat to the railway station +which he had just left. Fortunately, he had at his side the right +man (for once) in the right place. Old Sharon's effrontery was +equal to any emergency. + +"I am not a nice-looking old man, my dear, am I?" he said, +leering at Isabel with cunning, half-closed eyes. "Bless your +heart! you'll soon get used to me! You see, I am the sort of +color, as they say at the linen-drapers," that doesn't wash well. +It's all through love; upon my life it is! Early in the present +century I had my young affections blighted; and I've neglected +myself ever since. Disappointment takes different forms, miss, in +different men. I don't think I have had heart enough to brush my +hair for the last fifty years. She was a magnificent woman, Mr. +Moody, and she dropped me like a hot potato. Dreadful! dreadful! +Let us pursue this painful subject no further. Ha! here's a +pretty country! Here's a nice blue sky! I admire the country, +miss; I see so little of it, you know. Have you any objection to +walk along into the fields? The fields, my dear, bring out all +the poetry of my nature. Where's the dog? Here, Puggy! Puggy! +hunt about, my man, and find some dog-grass. Does his inside +good, you know, after a meat diet in London. Lord! how I feel my +spirits rising in this fine air! Does my complexion look any +brighter, miss? Will you run a race with me, Mr. Moody, or will +you oblige me with a back at leap-frog? I'm not mad, my dear +young lady; I'm only merry. I live, you see, in the London stink; +and the smell of the hedges and the wild flowers is too much for +me at first. It gets into my head, it does. I'm drunk! As I live +by bread, I'm drunk on fresh air! Oh! what a jolly day! Oh! how +young and innocent I do feel!" Here his innocence got the better +of him, and he began to sing, "I wish I were a little fly, in my +love's bosom for to lie!" "Hullo! here we are on the nice soft +grass! and, oh, my gracious! there's a bank running down into a +hollow! I can't stand that, you know. Mr. Moody, hold my hat, and +take the greatest care of it. Here goes for a roll down the +bank!" + +He handed his horrible hat to the astonished Moody, laid himself +flat on the top of the bank, and deliberately rolled down it, +exactly as he might have done when he was a boy. The tails of his +long gray coat flew madly in the wind: the dog pursued him, +jumping over him, and barking with delight; he shouted and +screamed in answer to the dog as he rolled over and over faster +and faster; and, when he got up, on the level ground, and called +out cheerfully to his companions standing above him, "I say, you +two, I feel twenty years younger already!"--human gravity could +hold out no longer. The sad and silent Moody smiled, and Isabel +burst into fits of laughter. + +"There," he said "didn't I tell you you would get used to me, +Miss? There's a deal of life left in the old man yet--isn't +there? Shy me down my hat, Mr. Moody. And now we'll get to +business!" He turned round to the dog still barking at his heels. +"Business, Puggy!" he called out sharply, and Puggy instantly +shut up his mouth, and said no more. + +"Well, now," Old Sharon resumed when he had joined his friends +and had got his breath again, "let's have a little talk about +yourself, miss. Has Mr. Moody told you who I am, and what I want +with you? Very good. May I offer you my arm? No! You like to be +independent, don't you? All right--I don't object. I am an +amiable old man, I am. About this Lady Lydiard, now? Suppose you +tell me how you first got acquainted with her?" + +In some surprise at this question, Isabel told her little story. +Observing Sharon's face while she was speaking, Moody saw that he +was not paying the smallest attention to the narrative. His +sharp, shameless black eyes watched the girl's face absently; his +gross lips curled upwards in a sardonic and self-satisfied smile. +He was evidently setting a trap for her of some kind. Without a +word of warning--while Isabel was in the middle of a +sentence--the trap opened, with the opening of Old Sharon's lips. + +"I say," he burst out. "How came _you_ to seal her Ladyship's +letter--eh?" + +The question bore no sort of relation, direct or indirect, to +what Isabel happened to be saying at the moment. In the sudden +surprise of hearing it, she started and fixed her eyes in +astonishment on Sharon's face. The old vagabond chuckled to +himself. "Did you see that?" he whispered to Moody. "I beg your +pardon, miss," he went on; "I won't interrupt you again. Lord! +how interesting it is!--ain't it, Mr. Moody? Please to go on, +miss." + +But Isabel, though she spoke with perfect sweetness and temper, +declined to go on. "I had better tell you, sir, how I came to +seal her Ladyship's letter," she said. "If I may venture on +giving my opinion, _that_ part of my story seems to be the only +part of it which relates to your business with me to-day." + +Without further preface she described the circumstances which had +led to her assuming the perilous responsibility of sealing the +letter. Old Sharon's wandering attention began to wander again: +he was evidently occupied in setting another trap. For the second +time he interrupted Isabel in the middle of a sentence. Suddenly +stopping short, he pointed to some sheep, at the further end of +the field through which they happened to be passing at the +moment. + +"There's a pretty sight," he said. "There are the innocent sheep +a-feeding--all following each other as usual. And there's the sly +dog waiting behind the gate till the sheep wants his services. +Reminds me of Old Sharon and the public!" He chuckled over the +discovery of the remarkable similarity between the sheep-dog and +himself, and the sheep and the public--and then burst upon Isabel +with a second question. "I say! didn't you look at the letter +before you sealed it?" + +"Certainly not!" Isabel answered. + +"Not even at the address?" + +"No!" + +"Thinking of something else--eh?" + +"Very likely," said Isabel. + +"Was it your new bonnet, my dear?" + +Isabel laughed. "Women are not always thinking of their new +bonnets," she answered. + +Old Sharon, to all appearance, dropped the subject there. He +lifted his lean brown forefinger and pointed again--this time to +a house at a short distance from them. "That's a farmhouse, +surely?" he said. "I'm thirsty after my roll down the hill. Do +you think, Miss, they would give me a drink of milk?" + +"I am sure they would," said Isabel. "I know the people. Shall I +go and ask them?" + +"Thank you, my dear. One word more before you go. About the +sealing of that letter? What _could_ you have been thinking of +while you were doing it?" He looked hard at her, and took her +suddenly by the arm. "Was it your sweetheart?" he asked, in a +whisper. + +The question instantly reminded Isabel that she had been thinking +of Hardyman while she sealed the letter. She blushed as the +remembrance crossed her mind. Robert, noticing the embarrassment, +spoke sharply to Old Sharon. "You have no right to put such a +question to a young lady," he said. "Be a little more careful for +the future." + +"There! there! don't be hard on me," pleaded the old rogue. "An +ugly old man like me may make his innocent little joke--eh, miss? +I'm sure you're too sweet-tempered to be angry when I meant no +offense.. Show me that you bear no malice. Go, like a forgiving +young angel, and ask for the milk." + +Nobody appealed to Isabel's sweetness of temper in vain. "I will +do it with pleasure," she said--and hastened away to the +farmhouse. + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE instant Isabel was out of hearing, Old Sharon slapped Moody +on the shoulder to rouse his attention. "I've got her out of the +way," he said, "now listen to me. My business with the young +angel is done--I may go back to London." + +Moody looked at him with astonishment. + +"Lord! how little you know of thieves!" exclaimed Old Sharon. +"Why, man alive, I have tried her with two plain tests! If you +wanted a proof of her innocence, there it was, as plain as the +nose in your face. Did you hear me ask her how she came to seal +the letter--just when her mind was running on something else?" + +"I heard you," said Moody. + +"Did you see how she started and stared at me?" + +"I di d." + +"Well, I can tell you this--if she _had_ stolen the money she +would neither have started nor stared. She would have had her +answer ready beforehand in her own mind, in case of accidents. +There's only one thing in my experience that you can never do +with a thief, when a thief happens to be a woman--you can never +take her by surprise. Put that remark by in your mind; one day +you may find a use for remembering it. Did you see her blush, and +look quite hurt in her feelings, pretty dear, when I asked about +her sweetheart? Do you think a thief, in her place, would have +shown such a face as that? Not she! The thief would have been +relieved. The thief would have said to herself, 'All right! the +more the old fool talks about sweethearts the further he is from +tracing the robbery to Me!' Yes! yes! the ground's cleared now, +Master Moody. I've reckoned up the servants; I've questioned Miss +Isabel; I've made my inquiries in all the other quarters that may +be useful to us--and what's the result? The advice I gave, when +you and the lawyer first came to me--I hate that fellow!--remains +as sound and good advice as ever. I have got the thief in my +mind," said Old Sharon, closing his cunning eyes and then opening +them again, "as plain as I've got you in my eye at this minute. +No more of that now," he went on, looking round sharply at the +path that led to the farmhouse. "I've something particular to say +to you--and there's barely time to say it before that nice girl +comes back. Look here! Do you happen to be acquainted with +Mr.-Honorable-Hardyman's valet?" + +Moody's eyes rested on Old Sharon with a searching and doubtful +look. + +"Mr. Hardyman's valet?" he repeated. "I wasn't prepared to hear +Mr. Hardyman's name." + +Old Sharon looked at Moody, in his turn, with a flash of sardonic +triumph. + +"Oho!" he said. "Has my good boy learned his lesson? Do you see +the thief through my spectacles, already?" + +"I began to see him," Moody answered, "when you gave us the +guinea opinion at your lodgings." + +"Will you whisper his name?" asked Old Sharon. + +"Not yet. I distrust my own judgment. I wait till time proves +that you are right." + +Old Sharon knitted his shaggy brows and shook his head. "If you +had only a little more dash and go in you," he said, "you would +be a clever fellow. As it is--!" He finished the sentence by +snapping his fingers with a grin of contempt. "Let's get to +business. Are you going back by the next train along with me? or +are you going to stop with the young lady?" + +"I will follow you by a later train," Moody answered. + +"Then I must give you my instructions at once," Sharon continued. +"You get better acquainted with Hardyman's valet. Lend him money +if he wants it--stick at nothing to make a bosom friend of him. I +can't do that part of it; my appearance would be against me. +_You_ are the man--you are respectable from the top of your hat +to the tips of your boots; nobody would suspect You. Don't make +objections! Can you fix the valet? Or can't you?" + +"I can try," said Moody. "And what then?" + +Old Sharon put his gross lips disagreeably close to Moody's ear. + +"Your friend the valet can tell you who his master's bankers +are," he said; "and he can supply you with a specimen of his +master's handwriting." + +Moody drew back, as suddenly as if his vagabond companion had put +a knife to his throat. "You old villain!" he said. "Are you +tempting me to forgery?" + +"You infernal fool!" retorted Old Sharon. "_Will_ you hold that +long tongue of yours, and hear what I have to say. You go to +Hardyman's bankers, with a note in Hardyman's handwriting +(exactly imitated by me) to this effect:--'Mr. H. presents his +compliments to Messrs. So-and-So, and is not quite certain +whether a payment of five hundred pounds has been made within the +last week to his account. He will be much obliged if Messrs. +So-and-So will inform him by a line in reply, whether there is +such an entry to his credit in their books, and by whom the +payment has been made.' You wait for the bankers' answer, and +bring it to me. It's just possible that the name you're afraid to +whisper may appear in the letter. If it does, we've caught our +man. Is _that_ forgery, Mr. Muddlehead Moody? I'll tell you +what--if I had lived to be your age, and knew no more of the +world than you do, I'd go and hang myself. Steady! here's our +charming friend with the milk. Remember your instructions, and +don't lose heart if my notion of the payment to the bankers comes +to nothing. I know what to do next, in that case--and, what's +more, I'll take all the risk and trouble on my own shoulders. Oh, +Lord! I'm afraid I shall be obliged to drink the milk, now it's +come!" + +With this apprehension in his mind, he advanced to relieve Isabel +of the jug that she carried. + +"Here's a treat!" he burst out, with an affectation of joy, which +was completely belied by the expression of his dirty face. +"Here's a kind and dear young lady, to help an old man to a drink +with her own pretty hands." He paused, and looked at the milk +very much as he might have looked at a dose of physic. "Will +anyone take a drink first?" he asked, offering the jug piteously +to Isabel and Moody. "You see, I'm not wed to genuine milk; I'm +used to chalk and water. I don't know what effect the +unadulterated cow might have on my poor old inside." He tasted +the milk with the greatest caution. "Upon my soul, this is too +rich for me! The unadulterated cow is a deal too strong to be +drunk alone. If you'll allow me I'll qualify it with a drop of +gin. Here, Puggy, Puggy!" He set the milk down before the dog; +and, taking a flask out of his pocket, emptied it at a draught. +"That's something like!" he said, smacking his lips with an air +of infinite relief. "So sorry, Miss, to have given you all your +trouble for nothing; it's my ignorance that's to blame, not me. I +couldn't know I was unworthy of genuine milk till I tried--could +l? And do you know," he proceeded, with his eyes directed slyly +on the way back to the station, "I begin to think I'm not worthy +of the fresh air, either. A kind of longing seems to come over me +for the London stink. I'm home-sick already for the soot of my +happy childhood and my own dear native mud. The air here is too +thin for me, and the sky's too clean; and--oh, Lord!--when you're +wed to the roar of the traffic--the 'busses and the cabs and what +not--the silence in these parts is downright awful. I'll wish you +good evening, miss; and get back to London." + +Isabel turned to Moody with disappointment plainly expressed in +her face and manner. + +"Is that all he has to say?" she asked. "You told me he could +help us. You led me to suppose he could find the guilty person." + +Sharon heard her. "I could name the guilty person," he answered, +"as easily, miss, as I could name you." + +"Why don't you do it then?" Isabel inquired, not very patiently + +"Because the time's not ripe for it yet, miss--that's one reason. +Because, if I mentioned the thief's name, as things are now, you, +Miss Isabel, would think me mad; and you would tell Mr. Moody I +had cheated him out of his money--that's another reason. The +matter's in train, if you will only wait a little longer." + +"So you say," Isabel rejoined. "If you really could name the +thief, I believe you would do it now." + +She turned away with a frown on her pretty face. Old Sharon +followed her. Even his coarse sensibilities appeared to feel the +irresistible ascendancy of beauty and youth. + +"I say!" he began, "we must part friends, you know--or I shall +break my heart over it. They have got milk at the farmhouse. Do +you think they have got pen, ink, and paper too?" + +Isabel answered, without turning to look at him, "Of course they +have!" + +"And a bit of sealing-wax?" + +"I daresay!" + +Old Sharon laid his dirty claws on her shoulder and forced her to +face him as the best means of shaking them off. + +"Come along!" he said. "I am going to pacify you with some +information in writing." + +"Why should you write it?" Isabel asked suspiciously. + +"Because I mean to make my own conditions, my dear, before I let +you into the secret." + +In ten minutes more they were all three in the farmhouse parlor. +Nobody but the farmer's wife was at home. The good woman trembled +from head to foot at the sight of Old Sharon. In all her harmless +life she had never yet seen humanity under the aspect in which it +was now presented to her. "Mercy preserve us, Miss!" she +whispered to Isabel, "how come you to be in such company as +_that?_" Instructed by Isabel, she produced the necessary +materials for writing and sealing--and, that done, she shrank +away to the door. "Please to excuse me, miss," she said with a +last horrified look at her venerable visitor; "I really can't +stand the sight of such a blot of dirt as that in my nice clean +parlor." With those words she disappeared, and was seen no more. + +Perfectly indifferent to his reception, Old Sharon wrote, +inclosed what he had written in an envelope; and sealed it (in +the absence of anything better fitted for his purpose) with the +mouthpiece of his pipe. + +"Now, miss," he said, "you give me your word of honor"--he +stopped and looked round at Moody with a grin--"and you give me +yours, that you won't either of you break the seal on this +envelope till the expiration of one week from the present day. +There are the conditions, Miss Isabel, on which I'll give you +your information. If you stop to dispute with me, the candle's +alight, and I'll burn it!" + +It was useless to contend with him. Isabel and Moody gave him the +promise that he required. He handed the sealed envelope to Isabel +with a low bow. "When the week's out," he said, "you will own I'm +a cleverer fellow than you think me now. Wish you good evening, +Miss. Come along, Puggy! Farewell to the horrid clean country, +and back again to the nice London stink!" + +He nodded to Moody--he leered at Isabel--he chuckled to +himself--he left the farmhouse. + + +CHAPTER XV. + +ISABEL looked down at the letter in her hand--considered it in +silence--and turned to Moody. "I feel tempted to open it +already," she said. + +"After giving your promise?" Moody gently remonstrated. + +Isabel met that objection with a woman's logic. + +"Does a promise matter?" she asked, "when one gives it to a +dirty, disreputable, presuming old wretch like Mr. Sharon? It's a +wonder to me that you trust such a creature. _I_ wouldn't!" + +"I doubted him just as you do," Moody answered, "when I first saw +him in company with Mr. Troy. But there was something in the +advice he gave us at that first consultation which altered my +opinion of him for the better. I dislike his appearance and his +manners as much as you do--I may even say I felt ashamed of +bringing such a person to see you. And yet I can't think that I +have acted unwisely in employing Mr. Sharon." + +Isabel listened absently. She had something more to say, and she +was considering how she should say it. "May I ask you a bold +question?" she began. + +"Any question you like." + +"Have you--" she hesitated and looked embarrassed. "Have you paid +Mr. Sharon much money?" she resumed, suddenly rallying her +courage. Instead of answering, Moody suggested that it was time +to think of returning to Miss Pink's villa. "Your aunt may be +getting anxious about you." he said. + +Isabel led the way out of the farmhouse in silence. She reverted +to Mr. Sharon and the money, however, as they returned by the +path across the fields. + +"I am sure you will not be offended with me," she said gently, +"if I own that I am uneasy about the expense. I am allowing you +to use your purse as if it was mine--and I have hardly any +savings of my own." + +Moody entreated her not to speak of it. "How can I put my money +to a better use than in serving your interests?" he asked. "My +one object in life is to relieve you of your present anxieties. I +shall be the happiest man living if you only owe a moment's +happiness to my exertions!" + +Isabel took his hand, and looked at him with grateful tears in +her eyes. + +"How good you are to me, Mr. Moody!" she said. "I wish I could +tell you how deeply I feel your kindness." + +"You can do it easily," he answered, with a smile. "Call me +'Robert' --don't call me 'Mr. Moody.' " + +She took his arm with a sudden familiarity that charmed him. "If +you had been my brother I should have called you 'Robert,' " she +said; "and no brother could have been more devoted to me than you +are." + +He looked eagerly at her bright face turned up to his. "May I +never hope to be something nearer and dearer to you than a +brother?" he asked timidly. + +She hung her head and said nothing. Moody's memory recalled +Sharon's coarse reference to her "sweetheart." She had blushed +when he put the question? What had she done when Moody put _his_ +question? Her face answered for her--she had turned pale; she was +looking more serious than usual. Ignorant as he was of the ways +of women, his instinct told him that this was a bad sign. Surely +her rising color would have confessed it, if time and gratitude +together were teaching her to love him? He sighed as the +inevitable conclusion forced itself on his mind. + +"I hope I have not offended you?" he said sadly. + +"Oh, no." + +"I wish I had not spoken. Pray don't think that I am serving you +with any selfish motive." + +"I don't think that, Robert. I never could think it of _you_." + +He was not quite satisfied yet. "Even if you were to marry some +other man," he went on earnestly, "it would make no difference in +what I am trying to do for you. No matter what I might suffer, I +should still go on--for your sake." + +"Why do you talk so?" she burst out passionately. "No other man +has such a claim as you to my gratitude and regard. How can you +let such thoughts come to you? I have done nothing in secret. I +have no friends who are not known to you. Be satisfied with that, +Robert--and let us drop the subject." + +"Never to take it up again?" he asked, with the infatuated +pertinacity of a man clinging to his last hope. + +At other times and under other circumstances, Isabel might have +answered him sharply. She spoke with perfect gentleness now. + +"Not for the present," she said. "I don't know my own heart. Give +me time." + +His gratitude caught at those words, as the drowning man is said +to catch at the proverbial straw. He lifted her hand, and +suddenly and fondly pressed his lips on it. She showed no +confusion. Was she sorry for him, poor wretch!--and was that all? + +They walked on, arm-in-arm, in silence. + +Crossing the last field, they entered again on the high road +leading to the row of villas in which Miss Pink lived. The minds +of both were preoccupied. Neither of them noticed a gentleman +approaching on horseback, followed by a mounted groom. He was +advancing slowly, at the walking-pace of his horse, and he only +observed the two foot-passengers when he was close to them. + +"Miss Isabel!" + +She started, looked up, and discovered--Alfred Hardyman. + +He was dressed in a perfectly-made travelling suit of light +brown, with a peaked felt hat of a darker shade of the same +color, which, in a picturesque sense, greatly improved his +personal appearance. His pleasure at discovering Isabel gave the +animation to his features which they wanted on ordinary +occasions. He sat his horse, a superb hunter, easily and +gracefully. His light amber-colored gloves fitted him perfectly. +His obedient servant, on another magnificent horse, waited behind +him. He looked the impersonation of rank and breeding--of wealth +and prosperity. What a contrast, in a woman's eyes, to the shy, +pale, melancholy man, in the ill-fitting black clothes, with the +wandering, uneasy glances, who stood beneath him, and felt, and +showed that he felt, his inferior position keenly! In spite of +herself, the treacherous blush flew over Isabel's face, in +Moody's presence, and with Moody's eyes distrustfully watching +her. + +"This is a piece of good fortune that I hardly hoped for," said +Hardyman, his cool, quiet, dreary way of speaking quickened as +usual, in Isabel's presence. "I only got back from France this +morning, and I called on Lady Lydiard in the hope of seeing you. +She was not at home--and you were in the country--and the +servants didn't know the address. I could get nothing out of +them, except that you were on a visit to a relation." He looked +at Moody while he was speaking. "Haven't I seen you before?" he +said, carelessly. "Yes; at Lady Lydiard's. You're her steward, +are you not? How d'ye do?" Moody, with h is eyes on the ground, +answered silently by a bow. Hardyman, perfectly indifferent +whether Lady Lydiard's steward spoke or not, turned on his saddle +and looked admiringly at Isabel. "I begin to think I am a lucky +man at last," he went on with a smile. "I was jogging along to my +farm, and despairing of ever seeing Miss Isabel again--and Miss +Isabel herself meets me at the roadside! I wonder whether you are +as glad to see me as I am to see you? You won't tell me--eh? May +I ask you something else? Are you staying in our neighborhood?" + +There was no alternative before Isabel but to answer this last +question. Hardyman had met her out walking, and had no doubt +drawn the inevitable inference--although he was too polite to say +so in plain words. + +"Yes, sir," she answered, shyly, "I am staying in this +neighborhood." + +"And who is your relation?" Hardyman proceeded, in his easy, +matter-of-course way. "Lady Lydiard told me, when I had the +pleasure of meeting you at her house, that you had an aunt living +in the country. I have a good memory, Miss Isabel, for anything +that I hear about You! It's your aunt, isn't it? Yes? I know +everybody about hew. What is your aunt's name?" + +Isabel, still resting her hand on Robert's arm, felt it tremble a +little as Hardyman made this last inquiry. If she had been +speaking to one of her equals she would have known how to dispose +of the question without directly answering it. But what could she +say to the magnificent gentleman on the stately horse? He had +only to send his servant into the village to ask who the young +lady from London was staying with, and the answer, in a dozen +mouths at least, would direct him to her aunt. She cast one +appealing look at Moody and pronounced the distinguished name of +Miss Pink. + +"Miss Pink?" Hardyman repeated. "Surely I know Miss Pink?" (He +had not the faintest remembrances of her.) "Where did I meet her +last?" (He ran over in his memory the different local festivals +at which strangers had been introduced to him.) "Was it at the +archery meeting? or at the grammar-school when the prizes were +given? No? It must have been at the flower show, then, surely?" + +It _had_ been at the flower show. Isabel had heard it from Miss +Pink fifty times at least, and was obliged to admit it now. + +"I am quite ashamed of never having called," Hardyman proceeded. +"The fact is, I have so much to do. I am a bad one at paying +visits. Are you on your way home? Let me follow you and make my +apologies personally to Miss Pink." + +Moody looked at Isabel. It was only a momentary glance, but she +perfectly understood it. + +"I am afraid, sir, my aunt cannot have the honor of seeing you +to-day," she said. + +Hardyman was all compliance. He smiled and patted his horse's +neck. "To-morrow, then," he said. "My compliments, and I will +call in the afternoon. Let me see: Miss Pink lives at--?" He +waited, as if he expected Isabel to assist his treacherous memory +once more. She hesitated again. Hardyman looked round at his +groom. The groom could find out the address, even if he did not +happen to know it already. Besides, there was the little row of +houses visible at the further end of the road. Isabel pointed to +the villas, as a necessary concession to good manners, before the +groom could anticipate her. "My aunt lives there, sir; at the +house called The Lawn." + +"Ah! to be sure!" said Hardyman. "I oughtn't to have wanted +reminding; but I have so many things to think of at the farm. And +I am afraid I must be getting old--my memory isn't as good as it +was. I am so glad to have seen you, Miss Isabel. You and your +aunt must come and look at my horses. Do you like horses? Are you +fond of riding? I have a quiet roan mare that is used to carrying +ladies; she would be just the thing for you. Did I beg you to +give my best compliments to your aunt? Yes? How well you are +looking! our air here agrees with you. I hope I haven't kept you +standing too long? I didn't think of it in the pleasure of +meeting you. Good-by, Miss Isabel; good-by, till to-morrow!" + +He took off his hat to Isabel, nodded to Moody, and pursued his +way to the farm. + +Isabel looked at her companion. His eyes were still on the +ground. Pale, silent, motionless, he waited by her like a dog, +until she gave the signal of walking on again towards the house. + +"You are not angry with me for speaking to Mr. Hardyman?" she +asked, anxiously. + +He lifted his head it the sound of her voice. "Angry with you, my +dear! why should I be angry?" + +"You seem so changed, Robert, since we met Mr. Hardyman. I +couldn't help speaking to him--could I?" + +"Certainly not." + +They moved on towards the villa. Isabel was still uneasy. There +was something in Moody's silent submission to all that she said +and all that she did which pained and humiliated her. "You're not +jealous?" she said, smiling timidly. + +He tried to speak lightly on his side. "I have no time to be +jealous while I have your affairs to look after," he answered. + +She pressed his arm tenderly. "Never fear, Robert, that new +friends will make me forget the best and dearest friend who is +now at my side." She paused, and looked up at him with a +compassionate fondness that was very pretty to see. "I can keep +out of the way to-morrow, when Mr. Hardyman calls," she said. "It +is my aunt he is coming to see--not me." + +It was generously meant. But while her mind was only occupied +with the present time, Moody's mind was looking into the future. +He was learning the hard lesson of self-sacrifice already. "Do +what you think is right," he said quietly; "don't think of me." + +They reached the gate of the villa. He held out his hand to say +good-by. + +"Won't you come in?" she asked. "Do come in!" + +"Not now, my dear. I must get back to London as soon as I can. +There is some more work to be done for you, and the sooner I do +it the better." + +She heard his excuse without heeding it. + +"You are not like yourself, Robert," she said. "Why is it? What +are you thinking of?" + +He was thinking of the bright blush that overspread her face when +Hardyman first spoke to her; he was thinking of the invitation to +her to see the stud-farm, and to ride the roan mare; he was +thinking of the utterly powerless position in which he stood +towards Isabel and towards the highly-born gentleman who admired +her. But he kept his doubts and fears to himself. "The train +won't wait for me," he said, and held out his hand once more. + +She was not only perplexed; she was really distressed. "Don't +take leave of me in that cold way!" she pleaded. Her eyes dropped +before his, and her lips trembled a little. "Give me a kiss, +Robert, at parting." She said those bold words softly and sadly, +out of the depth of her pity for him. He started; his face +brightened suddenly; his sinking hope rose again. In another +moment the change came; in another moment he understood her. As +he touched her cheek with his lips, he turned pale again. "Don't +quite forget me," he said, in low, faltering tones--and left her. + +Miss Pink met Isabel in the hall. Refreshed by unbroken repose, +the ex-schoolmistress was in the happiest frame of mind for the +reception of her niece's news. + +Informed that Moody had travelled to South Morden to personally +report the progress of the inquiries, Miss Pink highly approved +of him as a substitute for Mr. Troy. "Mr. Moody, as a banker's +son, is a gentleman by birth," she remarked; "he has +condescended, in becoming Lady Lydiard's steward. What I saw of +him, when he came here with you, prepossessed me in his favor. He +has my confidence, Isabel, as well as yours--he is in every +respect a superior person to Mr. Troy. Did you meet any friends, +my dear, when you were out walking?" + +The answer to this question produced a species of transformation +in Miss Pink. The rapturous rank-worship of her nation feasted, +so to speak, on Hardyman's message. She looked taller and younger +than usual--she was all smiles and sweetness. "At last, Isabel, +you have seen birth and breeding under their right aspect," she +said. "In the society of Lady Lydiard, you cannot possibly have +formed correct ideas of the English aristocracy. Observe Mr. +Hardyman when he does me the honor to call to-morrow--and you +will see the difference." + +"Mr. Hardyman is your visitor, aunt--not mine. I was going to ask +you to let me remain upstairs in my room." + +Miss Pink was unaffectedly shocked. "This is what you learn at +Lady Lydiard's!" she observed. "No, Isabel, your absence would be +a breach of good manners--I cannot possibly permit it. You will +be present to receive our distinguished friend with me. And mind +this!" added Miss Pink, in her most impressive manner, "If Mr. +Hardyman should by any chance ask why you have left Lady Lydiard, +not one word about those disgraceful circumstances which connect +you with the loss of the banknote! I should sink into the earth +if the smallest hint of what has really happened should reach Mr. +Hardyman's ears. My child, I stand towards you in the place of +your lamented mother; I have the right to command your silence on +this horrible subject, and I do imperatively command it." + +In these words foolish Miss Pink sowed the seed for the harvest +of trouble that was soon to come. + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +PAYING his court to the ex-schoolmistress on the next day, +Hardyman made such excellent use of his opportunities that the +visit to the stud-farm took place on the day after. His own +carriage was placed at the disposal of Isabel and her aunt; and +his own sister was present to confer special distinction on the +reception of Miss Pink. + +In a country like England, which annually suspends the sitting of +its Legislature in honor of a horse-race, it is only natural and +proper that the comfort of the horses should be the first object +of consideration at a stud-farm. Nine-tenths of the land at +Hardyman's farm was devoted, in one way or another, to the noble +quadruped with the low forehead and the long nose. Poor humanity +was satisfied with second-rate and third-rate accommodation. The +ornamental grounds, very poorly laid out, were also very limited +in extent--and, as for the dwelling-house, it was literally a +cottage. A parlor and a kitchen, a smoking-room, a bed-room, and +a spare chamber for a friend, all scantily furnished, sufficed +for the modest wants of the owner of the property. If you wished +to feast your eyes on luxury you went to the stables. + +The stud-farm being described, the introduction to Hardyman's +sister follows in due course. + +The Honorable Lavinia Hardyman was, as all persons in society +know, married rather late in life to General Drumblade. It is +saying a great deal, but it is not saying too much, to describe +Mrs. Drumblade as the most mischievous woman of her age in all +England. Scandal was the breath of her life; to place people in +false positions, to divulge secrets and destroy characters, to +undermine friendships, and aggravate enmities--these were the +sources of enjoyment from which this dangerous woman drew the +inexhaustible fund of good spirits that made her a brilliant +light in the social sphere. She was one of the privileged sinners +of modern society. The worst mischief that she could work was +ascribed to her "exuberant vitality." She had that ready +familiarity of manner which is (in _her_ class) so rarely +discovered to be insolence in disguise. Her power of easy +self-assertion found people ready to accept her on her own terms +wherever she went. She was one of those big, overpowering women, +with blunt manners, voluble tongues, and goggle eyes, who carry +everything before them. The highest society modestly considered +itself in danger of being dull in the absence of Mrs. Drumblade. +Even Hardyman himself--who saw as little of her as possible, +whose frankly straightforward nature recoiled by instinct from +contact with his sister--could think of no fitter person to make +Miss Pink's reception agreeable to her, while he was devoting his +own attentions to her niece. Mrs. Drumblade accepted the position +thus offered with the most amiable readiness. In her own private +mind she placed an interpretation on her brother's motives which +did him the grossest injustice. She believed that Hardyman's +designs on Isabel contemplated the most profligate result. To +assist this purpose, while the girl's nearest relative was +supposed to be taking care of her, was Mrs. Drumblade's idea of +"fun." Her worst enemies admitted that the honorable Lavia had +redeeming qualities, and owned that a keen sense of humor was one +of her merits. + +Was Miss Pink a likely person to resist the fascinations of Mrs. +Drumblade? Alas, for the ex-schoolmistress! before she had been +five minutes at the farm, Hardyman's sister had fished for her, +caught her, landed her. Poor Miss Pink! + +Mrs. Drumblade could assume a grave dignity of manner when the +occasion called for it. She was grave, she was dignified, when +Hardyman performed the ceremonies of introduction. She would not +say she was charmed to meet Miss Pink--the ordinary slang of +society was not for Miss Pink's ears--she would say she felt this +introduction as a privilege. It was so seldom one met with +persons of trained intellect in society. Mrs. Drumblade was +already informed of Miss Pink's earlier triumphs in the +instruction of youth. Mrs. Drumblade had not been blessed with +children herself; but she had nephews and nieces, and she was +anxious about their education, especially the nieces. What a +sweet, modest girl Miss Isabel was! The fondest wish she could +form for her nieces would be that they should resemble Miss +Isabel when they grew up. The question was, as to the best method +of education. She would own that she had selfish motives in +becoming acquainted with Miss Pink. They were at the farm, no +doubt, to see Alfred's horses. Mrs. Drumblade did not understand +horses; her interest was in the question of education. She might +even confess that she had accepted Alfred's invitation in the +hope of hearing Miss Pink's views. There would be opportunities, +she trusted, for a little instructive conversation on that +subject. It was, perhaps, ridiculous to talk, at her age, of +feeling as if she was Miss Pink's pupil; and yet it exactly +expressed the nature of the aspiration which was then in her +mind. + +In these terms, feeling her way with the utmost nicety, Mrs. +Drumblade wound the net of flattery round and round Miss Pink +until her hold on that innocent lady was, in every sense of the +word, secure. Before half the horses had been passed under +review, Hardyman and Isabel were out of sight, and Mrs. Drumblade +and Miss Pink were lost in the intricacies of the stables. +"Excessively stupid of me! We had better go back, and establish +ourselves comfortably in the parlor. When my brother misses us, +he and your charming niece will return to look for us in the +cottage." Under cover of this arrangement the separation became +complete. Miss Pink held forth on education to Mrs. Drumblade in +the parlor; while Hardyman and Isabel were on their way to a +paddock at the farthest limits of the property. + +"I am afraid you are getting a little tired," said Hardyman. +"Won't you take my arm?" + +Isabel was on her guard: she had not forgotten what Lady Lydiard +had said to her. "No, thank you, Mr. Hardyman; I am a better +walker than you think." + +Hardyman continued the conversation in his blunt, resolute way. +"I wonder whether you will believe me," he asked, "if I tell you +that this is one of the happiest days of my life." + +"I should think you were always happy," Isabel cautiously +replied, "having such a pretty place to live in as this." + +Hardyman met that answer with one of his quietly-positive +denials. "A man is never happy by himself," he said. "He is happy +with a companion. For instance, I am happy with you." + +Isabel stopped and looked back. Hardyman's language was becoming +a little too explicit. "Surely we have lost Mrs. Drumblade and my +aunt," she said. "I don't see them anywhere." + +You will see them directly; they are only a long way behind." +With this assurance, he returned, in his own obstinate way, to +his one object in view. "Miss Isabel, I want to ask you a +question. I'm not a ladies' man. I speak my mind plainly to +everybody--women included. Do you like being here to-day?" + +Isabel's gravity was not proof against this very downright +question. "I should be hard to please," she said laughing, "if I +didn't enjoy my visit to the farm." + +Hardyman pushed steadily forw ard through the obstacle of the +farm to the question of the farm's master. "You like being here," +he repeated. "Do you like Me?" + +This was serious. Isabel drew back a little, and looked at him. +He waited with the most impenetrable gravity for her reply. + +"I think you can hardly expect me to answer that question," she +said + +"Why not?" + +"Our acquaintance has been a very short one, Mr. Hardyman. And, +if _you_ are so good as to forget the difference between us, I +think _I_ ought to remember it." + +"What difference?" + +"The difference in rank." + +Hardyman suddenly stood still, and emphasized his next words by +digging his stick into the grass. + +"If anything I have said has vexed you," he began, "tell me so +plainly, Miss Isabel, and I'll ask your pardon. But don't throw +my rank in my face. I cut adrift from all that nonsense when I +took this farm and got my living out of the horses. What has a +man's rank to do with a man's feelings?" he went on, with another +emphatic dig of his stick. "I am quite serious in asking if you +like me--for this good reason, that I like you. Yes, I do. You +remember that day when I bled the old lady's dog--well, I have +found out since then that there's a sort of incompleteness in my +life which I never suspected before. It's you who have put that +idea into my head. You didn't mean it, I dare say, but you have +done it all the same. I sat alone here yesterday evening smoking +my pipe--and I didn't enjoy it. I breakfasted alone this +morning--and I didn't enjoy _that_. I said to myself, She's +coming to lunch, that's one comfort--I shall enjoy lunch. That's +what I feel, roughly described. I don't suppose I've been five +minutes together without thinking of you, now in one way and now +in another, since the day when I first saw you. When a man comes +to my time of life, and has had any experience, he knows what +that means. It means, in plain English, that his heart is set on +a woman. You're the woman." + +Isabel had thus far made several attempts to interrupt him, +without success. But, when Hardyman's confession attained its +culminating point, she insisted on being heard. + +"If you will excuse me, sir," she interposed gravely, "I think I +had better go back to the cottage. My aunt is a stranger here, +and she doesn't know where to look for us." + +"We don't want your aunt," Hardyman remarked, in his most +positive manner. + +"We do want her," Isabel rejoined. "I won't venture to say it's +wrong in you, Mr. Hardyman, to talk to me as you have just done, +but I am quite sure it's very wrong of me to listen." + +He looked at her with such unaffected surprise and distress that +she stopped, on the point of leaving him, and tried to make +herself better understood. + +"I had no intention of offending you, sir," she said, a little +confusedly. "I only wanted to remind you that there are some +things which a gentleman in your position--" She stopped, tried +to finish the sentence, failed, and began another. "If I had been +a young lady in your own rank of life," she went on, "I might +have thanked you for paying me a compliment, and have given you a +serious answer. As it is, I am afraid that I must say that you +have surprised and disappointed me. I can claim very little for +myself, I know. But I did imagine--so long as there was nothing +unbecoming in my conduct--that I had some right to your respect." + +Listening more and more impatiently, Hardyman took her by the +hand, and burst out with another of his abrupt questions. + +"What can you possibly be thinking of?" he asked. + +She gave him no answer; she only looked at him reproachfully, and +tried to release herself. + +Hardyman held her hand faster than ever. + +"I believe you think me an infernal scoundrel!" he said. "I can +stand a good deal, Miss Isabel, but I can't stand _that_. How +have I failed in respect toward you, if you please? I have told +you you're the woman my heart is set on. Well? Isn't it plain +what I want of you, when I say that? Isabel Miller, I want you to +be my wife!" + +Isabel's only reply to this extraordinary proposal of marriage +was a faint cry of astonishment, followed by a sudden trembling +that shook her from head to foot. + +Hardyman put his arm round her with a gentleness which his oldest +friend would have been surprised to see in him. + +"Take your time to think of it," he said, dropping back again +into his usual quiet tone. "If you had known me a little better +you wouldn't have mistaken me, and you wouldn't be looking at me +now as if you were afraid to believe your own ears. What is there +so very wonderful in my wanting to marry you? I don't set up for +being a saint. When I was a younger man I was no better (and no +worse) than other young men. I'm getting on now to middle life. I +don't want romances and adventures--I want an easy existence with +a nice lovable woman who will make me a good wife. You're the +woman, I tell you again. I know it by what I've seen of you +myself, and by what I have heard of you from Lady Lydiard. She +said you were prudent, and sweet-tempered, and affectionate; to +which I wish to add that you have just the face and figure that I +like, and the modest manners and the blessed absence of all slang +in your talk, which I don't find in the young women I meet with +in the present day. That's my view of it: I think for myself. +What does it matter to me whether you're the daughter of a Duke +or the daughter of a Dairyman? It isn't your father I want to +marry--it's you. Listen to reason, there's a dear! We have only +one question to settle before we go back to your aunt. You +wouldn't answer me when I asked it a little while since. Will you +answer now? _Do_ you like me?" + +Isabel looked up at him timidly. + +"In my position, sir," she asked, "have I any right to like you? +What would your relations and friends think, if I said Yes?" + +Hardyman gave her waist a little admonitory squeeze with his arm + +"What? You're at it again? A nice way to answer a man, to call +him "Sir," and to get behind his rank as if it was a place of +refuge from him! I hate talking of myself, but you force me to +it. Here is my position in the world--I have got an elder +brother; he is married, and he has a son to succeed him, in the +title and the property. You understand, so far? Very well! Years +ago I shifted my share of the rank (whatever it may be) on to my +brother's shoulders. He is a thorough good fellow, and he has +carried my dignity for me, without once dropping it, ever since. +As for what people may say, they have said it already, from my +father and mother downward, in the time when I took to the horses +and the farm. If they're the wise people I take them for, they +won't be at the trouble of saying it all over again. No, no. +Twist it how you may, Miss Isabel, whether I'm single or whether +I'm married, I'm plain Alfred Hardyman; and everybody who knows +me knows that I go on my way, and please myself. If you don't +like me, it will be the bitterest disappointment I ever had in my +life; but say so honestly, all the same." + +Where is the woman in Isabel's place whose capacity for +resistance would not have yielded a little to such an appeal as +this? + +"I should be an insensible wretch" she replied warmly, "if I +didn't feel the honor you have done me, and feel it gratefully." + +"Does that mean you will have me for a husband?" asked downright +Hardyman. + +She was fairly driven into a corner; but (being a woman) she +tried to slip through his fingers at the last moment. + +"Will you forgive me," she said, "if I ask you for a little more +time? I am so bewildered, I hardly know what to say or do for the +best. You see, Mr. Hardyman, it would be a dreadful thing for me +to be the cause of giving offense to your family. I am obliged to +think of that. It would be so distressing for you (I will say +nothing of myself) if your friends closed their doors on me. They +might say I was a designing girl, who had taken advantage of your +good opinion to raise herself in the world. Lady Lydiard warned +me long since not to be ambitious about myself and not to forget +my station in life, because she treated me like her adopted +daughter. Indeed--indeed, I can't tell you how I feel your +goodness, and the compliment--the very great compliment, you pay +me! + My heart is free, and if I followed my own inclinations--" She +checked herself, conscious that she was on the brink of saying +too much. "Will you give me a few days," she pleaded, "to try if +I can think composedly of all this? I am only a girl, and I feel +quite dazzled by the prospect that you set before me." + +Hardyman seized on those words as offering all the encouragement +that he desired to his suit. + +"Have your own way in this thing and in everything!" he said, +with an unaccustomed fervor of language and manner. "I am so glad +to hear that your heart is open to me, and that all your +inclinations take my part." + +Isabel instantly protested against this misrepresentation of what +she had really said, "Oh, Mr. Hardyman, you quite mistake me!" + +He answered her very much as he had answered Lady Lydiard, when +she had tried to make him understand his proper relations towards +Isabel. + +"No, no; I don't mistake you. I agree to every word you say. How +can I expect you to marry me, as you very properly remark, unless +I give you a day or two to make up your mind? It's quite enough +for me that you like the prospect. If Lady Lydiard treated you as +her daughter, why shouldn't you be my wife? It stands to reason +that you're quite right to marry a man who can raise you in the +world. I like you to be ambitious--though Heaven knows it isn't +much I can do for you, except to love you with all my heart. +Still, it's a great encouragement to hear that her Ladyship's +views agree with mine--" + +"They don't agree, Mr. Hardyman!" protested poor Isabel. "You are +entirely misrepresenting--" + +Hardyman cordially concurred in this view of the matter. "Yes! +yes! I can't pretend to represent her Ladyship's language, or +yours either; I am obliged to take my words as they come to me. +Don't disturb yourself: it's all right--I understand. You have +made me the happiest man living. I shall ride over to-morrow to +your aunt's house, and hear what you have to say to me. Mind +you're at home! Not a day must pass now without my seeing you. I +do love you, Isabel--I do, indeed!" He stooped, and kissed her +heartily. "Only to reward me," he explained, "for giving you time +to think." + +She drew herself away from him--resolutely, not angrily. Before +she could make a third attempt to place the subject in its right +light before him, the luncheon bell rang at the cottage--and a +servant appeared evidently sent to look for them. + +"Don't forget to-morrow," Hardyman whispered confidentially. +"I'll call early--and then go to London, and get the ring." + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +EVENTS succeeded each other rapidly, after the memorable day to +Isabel of the luncheon at the farm. + +On the next day (the ninth of the month) Lady Lydiard sent for +her steward, and requested him to explain his conduct in +repeatedly leaving the house without assigning any reason for his +absence. She did not dispute his claims to a freedom of action +which would not be permitted to an ordinary servant. Her +objection to his present course of proceeding related entirely to +the mystery in which it was involved, and to the uncertainty in +which the household was left as to the hour of his return. On +those grounds, she thought herself entitled to an explanation. +Moody's habitual reserve--strengthened, on this occasion, by his +dread of ridicule, if his efforts to serve Isabel ended in +failure--disinclined him to take Lady Lydiard into his +confidence, while his inquiries were still beset with obstacles +and doubts. He respectfully entreated her Ladyship to grant him a +delay of a few weeks before he entered on his explanation. Lady +Lydiard's quick temper resented his request. She told Moody +plainly that he was guilty of an act of presumption in making his +own conditions with his employer. He received the reproof with +exemplary resignation; but he held to his conditions +nevertheless. From that moment the result of the interview was no +longer in doubt. Moody was directed to send in his accounts. The +accounts having been examined, and found to be scrupulously +correct, he declined accepting the balance of salary that was +offered to him. The next day he left Lady Lydiard's service. + +On the tenth of the month her Ladyship received a letter from her +nephew. + +The health of Felix had not improved. He had made up his mind to +go abroad again towards the end of the month. In the meantime, he +had written to his friend in Paris, and he had the pleasure of +forwarding an answer. The letter inclosed announced that the lost +five-hundred-pound note had been made the subject of careful +inquiry in Paris. It had not been traced. The French police +offered to send to London one of their best men, well acquainted +with the English language, if Lady Lydiard was desirous of +employing him. He would be perfectly willing to act with an +English officer in conducting the investigation, should it be +thought necessary. Mr. Troy being consulted as to the expediency +of accepting this proposal, objected to the pecuniary terms +demanded as being extravagantly high. He suggested waiting a +little before any reply was sent to Paris; and he engaged +meanwhile to consult a London solicitor who had great experience +in cases of theft, and whose advice might enable them to dispense +entirely with the services of the French police. + +Being now a free man again, Moody was able to follow his own +inclinations in regard to the instructions which he had received +from Old Sharon. + +The course that had been recommended to him was repellent to the +self-respect and the sense of delicacy which were among the +inbred virtues of Moody's character. He shrank from forcing +himself as a friend on Hardyman's valet: he recoiled from the +idea of tempting the man to steal a specimen of his master's +handwriting. After some consideration, he decided on applying to +the agent who collected the rents at Hardyman's London chambers. +Being an old acquaintance of Moody's, this person would certainly +not hesitate to communicate the address of Hardyman's bankers, if +he knew it. The experiment, tried under these favoring +circumstances, proved perfectly successful. Moody proceeded to +Sharon's lodgings the same day, with the address of the bankers +in his pocketbook. The old vagabond, greatly amused by Moody's +scruples, saw plainly enough that, so long as he wrote the +supposed letter from Hardyman in the third person, it mattered +little what handwriting was employed, seeing that no signature +would be necessary. The letter was at once composed, on the model +which Sharon had already suggested to Moody, and a respectable +messenger (so far as outward appearances went) was employed to +take it to the bank. In half an hour the answer came back. It +added one more to the difficulties which beset the inquiry after +the lost money. No such sum as five hundred pounds had been paid, +within the dates mentioned, to the credit of Hardyman's account. + +Old Sharon was not in the least discomposed by this fresh check. +"Give my love to the dear young lady," he said with his customary +impudence; "and tell her we are one degree nearer to finding the +thief." + +Moody looked at him, doubting whether he was in jest or in +earnest. + +"Must I squeeze a little more information into that thick head of +yours?" asked Sharon. With this question he produced a weekly +newspaper, and pointed to a paragraph which reported, among the +items of sporting news, Hardyman's recent visit to a sale of +horses at a town in the north of France. "We know he didn't pay +the bank-note in to his account," Sharon remarked. "What else did +he do with it? Took it to pay for the horses that he bought in +France! Do you see your way a little plainer now? Very good. +Let's try next if your money holds out. Somebody must cross the +Channel in search of the note. Which of us two is to sit in the +steam-boat with a white basin on his lap? Old Sharon, of course!" +He stopped to count the money still left, out of the sum +deposited by Moody to defray the cost of the inquiry. "All +right!" he went on. "I've got enough to pay my expenses there and +back. Don't stir out of London till you hear from me. I can't +tell how soon I may not want you. If there's any difficulty in +tracing the note, your hand will have to go into your pocket +again. Can't you get the lawyer to join you? Lord! how I should +enjoy squandering _his_ money! It's a downright disgrace to me to +have only got one guinea out of him. I could tear my flesh off my +bones when I think of it." + +The same night Old Sharon started for France, by way of Dover and +Calais. + +Two days elapsed, and brought no news from Moody's agent. On the +third day, he received some information relating to Sharon--not +from the man himself, but in a letter from Isabel Miller. + +"For once, dear Robert," she wrote, "my judgment has turned out +to be sounder than yours. That hateful old man has confirmed my +worst opinion of him. Pray have him punished. Take him before a +magistrate and charge him with cheating you out of your money. I +inclose the sealed letter which he gave me at the farmhouse. The +week's time before I was to open it expired yesterday. Was there +ever anything so impudent and so inhuman? I am too vexed and +angry about the money you have wasted on this old wretch to write +more. Yours, gratefully and affectionately, Isabel." + +The letter in which Old Sharon had undertaken (by way of +pacifying Isabel) to write the name of the thief, contained these +lines: + +"You are a charming girl, my dear; but you still want one thing +to make you perfect--and that is a lesson in patience. I am proud +and happy to teach you. The name of the thief remains, for the +present, Mr. ---- (Blank)." + +From Moody's point of view, there was but one thing to be said of +this: it was just like Old Sharon! Isabel's letter was of +infinitely greater interest to him. He feasted his eyes on the +words above the signature: she signed herself, "Yours gratefully +and affectionately." Did the last words mean that she was really +beginning to be fond of him? After kissing the word, he wrote a +comforting letter to her, in which he pledged himself to keep a +watchful eye on Sharon, and to trust him with no more money until +he had honestly earned it first. + +A week passed. Moody (longing to see Isabel) still waited in vain +for news from France. He had just decided to delay his visit to +South Morden no longer, when the errand-boy employed by Sharon +brought him this message: "The old 'un's at home, and waitin' to +see yer." + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +SHARON'S news was not of an encouraging character. He had met +with serious difficulties, and had spent the last farthing of +Moody's money in attempting to overcome them. + +One discovery of importance he had certainly made. A horse +withdrawn from the sale was the only horse that had met with +Hardyman's approval. He had secured the animal at the high +reserved price of twelve thousand francs--being four hundred and +eighty pounds in English money; and he had paid with an English +bank-note. The seller (a French horse-dealer resident in +Brussels) had returned to Belgium immediately on completing the +negotiations. Sharon had ascertained his address, and had written +to him at Brussels, inclosing the number of the lost banknote. In +two days he had received an answer, informing him that the +horse-dealer had been called to England by the illness of a +relative, and that he had hitherto failed to send any address to +which his letters could be forwarded. Hearing this, and having +exhausted his funds, Sharon had returned to London. It now rested +with Moody to decide whether the course of the inquiry should +follow the horse-dealer next. Here was the cash account, showing +how the money had been spent. And there was Sharon, with his pipe +in his mouth and his dog on his lap, waiting for orders. + +Moody wisely took time to consider before he committed himself to +a decision. In the meanwhile, he ventured to recommend a new +course of proceeding which Sharon's report had suggested to his +mind. + +"It seems to me," he said, "that we have taken the roundabout way +of getting to our end in view, when the straight road lay before +us. If Mr. Hardyman has passed the stolen note, you know, as well +as I do, that he has passed it innocently. Instead of wasting +time and money in trying to trace a stranger, why not tell Mr. +Hardyman what has happened, and ask him to give us the number of +the note? You can't think of everything, I know; but it does seem +strange that this idea didn't occur to you before you went to +France." + +"Mr. Moody," said Old Sharon, "I shall have to cut your +acquaintance. You are a man without faith; I don't like you. As +if I hadn't thought of Hardyman weeks since!" he exclaimed +contemptuously. "Are you really soft enough to suppose that a +gentleman in his position would talk about his money affairs to +me? You know mighty little of him if you do. A fortnight since I +sent one of my men (most respectably dressed) to hang about his +farm, and see what information he could pick up. My man became +painfully acquainted with the toe of a boot. It was thick, sir; +and it was Hardyman's." + +"I will run the risk of the boot," Moody replied, in his quiet +way. + +"And put the question to Hardyman?" + +"Yes." + +"Very good," said Sharon. "If you get your answer from his +tongue, instead of his boot, the case is cleared up--unless I +have made a complete mess of it. Look here, Moody! If you want to +do me a good turn, tell the lawyer that the guinea-opinion was +the right one. Let him know that _he_ was the fool, not you, when +he buttoned up his pockets and refused to trust me. And, I say," +pursued Old Sharon, relapsing into his customary impudence, +"you're in love, you know, with that nice girl. I like her +myself. When you marry her invite me to the wedding. I'll make a +sacrifice; I'll brush my hair and wash my face in honor of the +occasion." + +Returning to his lodgings, Moody found two letters waiting on the +table. One of them bore the South Morden postmark. He opened that +letter first. + +It was written by Miss Pink. The first lines contained an urgent +entreaty to keep the circumstances connected with the loss of the +five hundred pounds the strictest secret from everyone in +general, and from Hardyman in particular. The reasons assigned +for making the strange request were next expressed in these +terms: "My niece Isabel is, I am happy to inform you, engaged to +be married to Mr. Hardyman. If the slightest hint reached him of +her having been associated, no matter how cruelly and unjustly, +with a suspicion of theft, the marriage would be broken off, and +the result to herself and to everybody connected with her, would +be disgrace for the rest of our lives." + +On the blank space at the foot of the page a few words were added +in Isabel's writing: "Whatever changes there may be in my life, +your place in my heart is one that no other person can fill: it +is the place of my dearest friend. Pray write and d tell me that +you are not distressed and not angry. My one anxiety is that you +should remember what I have always told you about the state of my +own feelings. My one wish is that you will still let me love you +and value you, as I might have loved and valued a brother." + +The letter dropped from Moody's hand. Not a word--not even a +sigh--passed his lips. In tearless silence he submitted to the +pang that wrung him. In tearless silence he contemplated the +wreck of his life. + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE narrative returns to South Morden, and follows the events +which attended Isabel's marriage engagement. + +To say that Miss Pink, inflated by the triumph, rose, morally +speaking, from the earth and floated among the clouds, is to +indicate faintly the effect produced on the ex-schoolmistress +when her niece first informed her of what had happened at the +farm. Attacked on one side by her aunt, and on the other by +Hardyman, and feebly defended, at the best, by her own doubts and +misgivings, Isabel ended by surrendering at discretion. Like +thousands of other women in a similar position, she was in the +last degree uncertain as to the state of her own heart. To what +extent she was insensibly influenced by Hardyman's commanding +position in believing herself to be sincerely attached to him, it +was beyond her power of self-examination to discover. He doubly +dazzled her by his birth and by his celebrity. Not in England +only, but throughout Europe, he was a recognized authority on his +own subject. How could she-- how could any woman--resist the +influence of his steady mind, his firmness of purpose, his manly +resolution to owe everything to himself and nothing to his rank, +set off as these attractive qualities were by the outward and +personal advantages which exercise an ascendancy of their own? +Isabel was fascinated, and yet Isabel was not at ease. In her +lonely moments she was troubled by regretful thoughts of Moody, +which perplexed and irritated her. She had always behaved +honestly to him; she had never encouraged him to hope that his +love for her had the faintest prospect of being returned. Yet, +knowing, as she did, that her conduct was blameless so far, there +were nevertheless perverse sympathies in her which took his part. +In the wakeful hours of the night there were whispering voices in +her which said: "Think of Moody!" Had there been a growing +kindness towards this good friend in her heart, of which she +herself was not aware? She tried to detect it--to weigh it for +what it was really worth. But it lay too deep to be discovered +and estimated, if it did really exist--if it had any sounder +origin than her own morbid fancy. In the broad light of day, in +the little bustling duties of life, she forgot it again. She +could think of what she ought to wear on the wedding day; she +could even try privately how her new signature, "Isabel +Hardyman," would look when she had the right to use it. On the +whole, it may be said that the time passed smoothly--with some +occasional checks and drawbacks, which were the more easily +endured seeing that they took their rise in Isabel's own conduct. +Compliant as she was in general, there were two instances, among +others, in which her resolution to take her own way was not to be +overcome. She refused to write either to Moody or to Lady Lydiard +informing them of her engagement; and she steadily disapproved of +Miss Pink's policy of concealment, in the matter of the robbery +at Lady Lydiard's house. Her aunt could only secure her as a +passive accomplice by stating family considerations in the +strongest possible terms. "If the disgrace was confined to you, +my dear, I might leave you to decide. But I am involved in it, as +your nearest relative; and, what is more, even the sacred +memories of your father and mother might feel the slur cast on +them." This exaggerated language--like all exaggerated language, +a mischievous weapon in the arsenal of weakness and +prejudice--had its effect on Isabel. Reluctantly and sadly, she +consented to be silent. + +Miss Pink wrote word of the engagement to Moody first; reserving +to a later day the superior pleasure of informing Lady Lydiard of +the very event which that audacious woman had declared to be +impossible. To her aunt's surprise, just as she was about to +close the envelope Isabel stepped forward, and inconsistently +requested leave to add a postscript to the very letter which she +had refused to write! Miss Pink was not even permitted to see the +postscript. Isabel secured the envelope the moment she laid down +her pen, and retired to her room with a headache (which was +heartache in disguise) for the rest of the day. + +While the question of marriage was still in debate, an event +occurred which exercised a serious influence on Hardyman's future +plans. + +He received a letter from the Continent which claimed his +immediate attention. One of the sovereigns of Europe had decided +on making some radical changes in the mounting and equipment of a +cavalry regiment; and he required the assistance of Hardyman in +that important part of the contemplated reform which was +connected with the choice and purchase of horses. Setting his own +interests out of the question, Hardyman owed obligations to the +kindness of his illustrious correspondent which made it +impossible for him to send an excuse. In a fortnight's time, at +the latest, it would be necessary for him to leave England; and a +month or more might elapse before it would be possible for him to +return. + +Under these circumstances, he proposed, in his own precipitate +way, to hasten the date of the marriage. The necessary legal +delay would permit the ceremony to be performed on that day +fortnight. Isabel might then accompany him on his journey, and +spend a brilliant honeymoon at the foreign Court. She at once +refused, not only to accept his proposal, but even to take it +into consideration. While Miss Pink dwelt eloquently on the +shortness of the notice, Miss Pink's niece based her resolution +on far more important grounds. Hardyman had not yet announced the +contemplated marriage to his parents and friends; and Isabel was +determined not to become his wife until she could be first +assured of a courteous and tolerant reception by the family--if +she could hope for no warmer welcome at their hands. + +Hardyman was not a man who yielded easily, even in trifles. In +the present case, his dearest interests were concerned in +inducing Isabel to reconsider her decision. He was still vainly +trying to shake her resolution, when the afternoon post brought a +letter for Miss Pink which introduced a new element of +disturbance into the discussion. The letter was nothing less than +Lady Lydiard's reply to the written announcement of Isabel's +engagement, despatched on the previous day by Miss Pink. + +Her Ladyship's answer was a surprisingly short one. It only +contained these lines: + +"Lady Lydiard begs to acknowledge the receipt of Miss Pink's +letter requesting that she will say nothing to Mr. Hardyman of +the loss of a bank-note in her house, and, assigning as a reason +that Miss Isabel Miller is engaged to be married to Mr. Hardyman, +and might be prejudiced in his estimation if the facts were made +known. Miss Pink may make her mind easy. Lady Lydiard had not the +slightest intention of taking Mr. Hardyman into her confidence on +the subject of her domestic affairs. With regard to the proposed +marriage, Lady Lydiard casts no doubt on Miss Pink's perfect +sincerity and good faith; but, at the same time, she positively +declines to believe that Mr. Hardyman means to make Miss Isabel +Miller his wife. Lady L. will yield to the evidence of a +properly-attested certificate--and to nothing else." + + +A folded piece of paper, directed to Isabel, dropped out of this +characteristic letter as Miss Pink turned from the first page to +the second. Lady Lydiard addressed her adopted daughter in these +words: + +"I was on the point of leaving home to visit you again, when I +received your aunt's letter. My poor deluded child, no words can +tell how distressed I am about you. You are already sacrificed to +the folly of the most foolish woman living. For God's sake, take +care you do not fall a victim next to the designs of a profligate +man. Come to me instantly, Isabel, and I promise to take care of +you." + +Fortified by these letters, and aided by Miss Pink's indignation, +Hardyman pressed his proposal on Isabel with renewed resolution. +She made no attempt to combat his arguments--she only held firmly +to her decision. Without some encouragement from Hardyman's +father and mother she still steadily refused to become his wife. +Irritated already by Lady Lydiard's letters, he lost the +self-command which so eminently distinguished him in the ordinary +affairs of life, and showed the domineering and despotic temper +which was an inbred part of his disposition. Isabel's high spirit +at once resented the harsh terms in which he spoke to her. In the +plainest words, she released him from his engagement, and, +without waiting for his excuses, quitted the room. + +Left together, Hardyman and Miss Pink devised an arrangement +which paid due respect to Isabel's scruples, and at the same time +met Lady Lydiard's insulting assertion of disbelief in Hardyman's +honor, by a formal and public announcement of the marriage. + +It was proposed to give a garden party at the farm in a week's +time for the express purpose of introducing Isabel to Hardyman's +family and friends in the character of his betrothed wife. If his +father and mother accepted the invitation, Isabel's only +objection to hastening the union would fall to the ground. +Hardyman might, in that case, plead with his Imperial +correspondent for a delay in his departure of a few days more; +and th e marriage might still take place before he left England. +Isabel, at Miss Pink's intercession, was induced to accept her +lover's excuses, and, in the event of her favorable reception by +Hardyman's parents at the farm, to give her consent (not very +willingly even yet) to hastening the ceremony which was to make +her Hardyman's wife. + +On the next morning the whole of the invitations were sent out, +excepting the invitation to Hardyman's father and mother. Without +mentioning it to Isabel, Hardyman decided on personally appealing +to his mother before he ventured on taking the head of the family +into his confidence. + +The result of the interview was partially successful--and no +more. Lord Rotherfield declined to see his youngest son; and he +had engagements which would, under any circumstances, prevent his +being present at the garden party. But at the express request of +Lady Rotherfield, he was willing to make certain concessions. + +"I have always regarded Alfred as a barely sane person," said his +Lordship, "since he turned his back on his prospects to become a +horse dealer. If we decline altogether to sanction this new +act--I won't say, of insanity, I will say, of absurdity--on his +part, it is impossible to predict to what discreditable +extremities he may not proceed. We must temporise with Alfred. In +the meantime I shall endeavor to obtain some information +respecting this young person--named Miller, I think you said, and +now resident at South Morden. If I am satisfied that she is a +woman of reputable character, possessing an average education and +presentable manners, we may as well let Alfred take his own way. +He is out of the pale of Society, as it is; and Miss Miller has +no father and mother to complicate matters, which is distinctly a +merit on her part and, in short, if the marriage is not +absolutely disgraceful, the wisest way (as we have no power to +prevent it) will be to submit. You will say nothing to Alfred +about what I propose to do. I tell you plainly I don't trust him. +You will simply inform him from me that I want time to consider, +and that, unless he hears to the contrary in the interval, he may +expect to have the sanction of your presence at his breakfast, or +luncheon, or whatever it is. I must go to town in a day or two, +and I shall ascertain what Alfred's friends know about this last +of his many follies, if I meet any of them at the club." + +Returning to South Morden in no serene frame of mind, Hardyman +found Isabel in a state of depression which perplexed and alarmed +him. + +The news that his mother might be expected to be present at the +garden party failed entirely to raise her spirits. The only +explanation she gave of the change in her was, that the dull +heavy weather of the last few days made her feel a little languid +and nervous. Naturally dissatisfied with this reply to his +inquiries, Hardyman asked for Miss Pink. He was informed that +Miss Pink could not see him. She was constitutionally subject to +asthma, and, having warnings of the return of the malady, she was +(by the doctor's advice) keeping her room. Hardyman returned to +the farm in a temper which was felt by everybody in his +employment, from the trainer to the stable-boys. + +While the apology made for Miss Pink stated no more than the +plain truth, it must be confessed that Hardyman was right in +declining to be satisfied with Isabel's excuse for the melancholy +that oppressed her. She had that morning received Moody's answer +to the lines which she had addressed to him at the end of her +aunt's letter; and she had not yet recovered from the effect +which it had produced on her spirits. + +"It is impossible for me to say honestly that I am not distressed +(Moody wrote) by the news of your marriage engagement. The blow +has fallen very heavily on me. When I look at the future now, I +see only a dreary blank. This is not your fault--you are in no +way to blame. I remember the time when I should have been too +angry to own this--when I might have said or done things which I +should have bitterly repented afterwards. That time is past. My +temper has been softened, since I have befriended you in your +troubles. That good at least has come out of my foolish hopes, +and perhaps out of the true sympathy which I have felt for you. I +can honestly ask you to accept my heart's dearest wishes for your +happiness--and I can keep the rest to myself. + +"Let me say a word now relating to the efforts that I have made +to help you, since that sad day when you left Lady Lydiard's +house. + +"I had hoped (for reasons which it is needless to mention here) +to interest Mr. Hardyman himself in aiding our inquiry. But your +aunt's wishes, as expressed in her letter to me, close my lips. I +will only beg you, at some convenient time, to let me mention the +last discoveries that we have made; leaving it to your +discretion, when Mr. Hardyman has become your husband, to ask him +the questions which, under other circumstances, I should have put +to him myself. + +"It is, of course, possible that the view I take of Mr. +Hardyman's capacity to help us may be a mistaken one. In this +case, if you still wish the investigation to be privately carried +on, I entreat you to let me continue to direct it, as the +greatest favor you can confer on your devoted old friend. + +"You need be under no apprehension about the expense to which you +are likely to put me. I have unexpectedly inherited what is to me +a handsome fortune. + +"The same post which brought your aunt's letter brought a line +from a lawyer asking me to see him on the subject of my late +father's affairs. I waited a day or two before I could summon +heart enough to see him, or to see anybody; and then I went to +his office. You have heard that my father's bank stopped payment, +at a time of commercial panic. His failure was mainly +attributable to the treachery of a friend to whom he had lent a +large sum of money, and who paid him the yearly interest, without +acknowledging that every farthing of it had been lost in +unsuccessful speculations. The son of this man has prospered in +business, and he has honorably devoted a part of his wealth to +the payment of his father's creditors. Half the sum due to _my_ +father has thus passed into my hands as his next of kin; and the +other half is to follow in course of time. If my hopes had been +fulfilled, how gladly I should have shared my prosperity with +you! As it is, I have far more than enough for my wants as a +lonely man, and plenty left to spend in your service. + +"God bless and prosper you, my dear. I shall ask you to accept a +little present from me, among the other offerings that are made +to you before the wedding day.-- R.M." + + +The studiously considerate and delicate tone in which these lines +were written had an effect on Isabel which was exactly the +opposite of the effect intended by the writer. She burst into a +passionate fit of tears; and in the safe solitude of her own +room, the despairing words escaped her, "I wish I had died before +I met with Alfred Hardyman!" + +As the days wore on, disappointments and difficulties seemed by a +kind of fatality to beset the contemplated announcement of the +marriage. + +Miss Pink's asthma, developed by the unfavorable weather, set the +doctor's art at defiance, and threatened to keep that unfortunate +lady a prisoner in her room on the day of the party. Hardyman's +invitations were in some cases refused; and in others accepted by +husbands with excuses for the absence of their wives. His elder +brother made an apology for himself as well as for his wife. +Felix Sweetsir wrote, "With pleasure, dear Alfred, if my health +permits me to leave the house." Lady Lydiard, invited at Miss +Pink's special request, sent no reply. The one encouraging +circumstance was the silence of Lady Rotherfield. So long as her +son received no intimation to the contrary, it was a sign that +Lord Rotherfield permitted his wife to sanction the marriage by +her presence. + +Hardyman wrote to his Imperial correspondent, engaging to leave +England on the earliest possible day, and asking to be pardoned +if he failed to express himself more definitely, in consideration +of domestic affairs, which it was necessary to settle before he +started for the Continent. I f there should not be time enough to +write again, he promised to send a telegraphic announcement of +his departure. Long afterwards, Hardyman remembered the +misgivings that had troubled him when he wrote that letter. In +the rough draught of it, he had mentioned, as his excuse for not +being yet certain of his own movements, that he expected to be +immediately married. In the fair copy, the vague foreboding of +some accident to come was so painfully present to his mind, that +he struck out the words which referred to his marriage, and +substituted the designedly indefinite phrase, "domestic affairs." + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE day of the garden party arrived. There was no rain; but the +air was heavy, and the sky was overcast by lowering clouds. + +Some hours before the guests were expected, Isabel arrived alone +at the farm, bearing the apologies of unfortunate Miss Pink, +still kept a prisoner in her bed-chamber by the asthma. In the +confusion produced at the cottage by the preparations for +entertaining the company, the one room in which Hardyman could +receive Isabel with the certainty of not being interrupted was +the smoking-room. To this haven of refuge he led her--still +reserved and silent, still not restored to her customary spirits. +"If any visitors come before the time," Hardyman said to his +servant, "tell them I am engaged at the stables. I must have an +hour's quiet talk with you," he continued, turning to Isabel, "or +I shall be in too bad a temper to receive my guests with common +politeness. The worry of giving this party is not to be told in +words. I almost wish I had been content with presenting you to my +mother, and had let the rest of my acquaintances go to the +devil." + +A quiet half hour passed; and the first visitor, a stranger to +the servants, appeared at the cottage-gate. He was a middle-aged +man, and he had no wish to disturb Mr. Hardyman. "I will wait in +the grounds," he said, "and trouble nobody." The middle-aged man, +who expressed himself in these modest terms, was Robert Moody. + +Five minutes later, a carriage drove up to the gate. An elderly +lady got out of it, followed by a fat white Scotch terrier, who +growled at every stranger within his reach. It is needless to +introduce Lady Lydiard and Tommie. + +Informed that Mr. Hardyman was at the stables, Lady Lydiard gave +the servant her card. "Take that to your master, and say I won't +detain him five minutes." With these words, her Ladyship +sauntered into the grounds. She looked about her with observant +eyes; not only noticing the tent which had been set up on the +grass to accommodate the expected guests, but entering it, and +looking at the waiters who were engaged in placing the luncheon +on the table. Returning to the outer world, she next remarked +that Mr. Hardyman's lawn was in very bad order. Barren sun-dried +patches, and little holes and crevices opened here and there by +the action of the summer heat, announced that the lawn, like +everything else at the farm, had been neglected, in the exclusive +attention paid to the claims of the horses. Reaching a shrubbery +which bounded one side of the grounds next, her Ladyship became +aware of a man slowly approaching her, to all appearance absorbed +in thought. The man drew a little nearer. She lifted her glasses +to her eyes and recognized--Moody. + +No embarrassment was produced on either side by this unexpected +meeting. Lady Lydiard had, not long since, sent to ask her former +steward to visit her; regretting, in her warm-hearted way, the +terms on which they had separated, and wishing to atone for the +harsh language that had escaped her at their parting interview. +In the friendly talk which followed the reconciliation, Lady +Lydiard not only heard the news of Moody's pecuniary +inheritance--but, noticing the change in his appearance for the +worse, contrived to extract from him the confession of his +ill-starred passion for Isabel. To discover him now, after all +that he had acknowledged, walking about the grounds at Hardyman's +farm, took her Ladyship completely by surprise. "Good Heavens!" +she exclaimed, in her loudest tones, "what are you doing here?" + +"You mentioned Mr. Hardyman's garden party, my Lady, when I had +the honor of waiting on you," Moody answered. "Thinking over it +afterward, it seemed the fittest occasion I could find for making +a little wedding present to Miss Isabel. Is there any harm in my +asking Mr. Hardyman to let me put the present on her plate, so +that she may see it when she sits down to luncheon? If your +Ladyship thinks so, I will go away directly, and send the gift by +post." + +Lady Lydiard looked at him attentively. "You don't despise the +girl," she asked, "for selling herself for rank and money? I +do--I can tell you!" + +Moody's worn white face flushed a little. "No, my Lady," he +answered, "I can't hear you say that! Isabel would not have +engaged herself to Mr. Hardyman unless she had been fond of +him--as fond, I dare say, as I once hoped she might be of me. +It's a hard thing to confess that; but I do confess it, in +justice to her--God bless her!" + +The generosity that spoke in those simple words touched the +finest sympathies in Lady Lydiard's nature. "Give me your hand," +she said, with her own generous spirit kindling in her eyes. "You +have a great heart, Moody. Isabel Miller is a fool for not +marrying _you_--and one day she will know it!" + +Before a word more could pass between them, Hardyman's voice was +audible on the other side of the shrubbery, calling irritably to +his servant to find Lady Lydiard. + +Moody retired to the further end of the walk, while Lady Lydiard +advanced in the opposite direction, so as to meet Hardyman at the +entrance to the shrubbery. He bowed stiffly, and begged to know +why her Ladyship had honored him with a visit. + +Lady Lydiard replied without noticing the coldness of her +reception. + +"I have not been very well, Mr. Hardyman, or you would have seen +me before this. My only object in presenting myself here is to +make my excuses personally for having written of you in terms +which expressed a doubt of your honor. I have done you an +injustice, and I beg you to forgive me." + +Hardyman acknowledged this frank apology as unreservedly as it +had been offered to him. "Say no more, Lady Lydiard. And let me +hope, now you are here, that you will honor my little party with +your presence." + +Lady Lydiard gravely stated her reasons for not accepting the +invitation. + +"I disapprove so strongly of unequal marriages," she said, +walking on slowly towards the cottage, "that I cannot, in common +consistency, become one of your guests. I shall always feel +interested in Isabel Miller's welfare; and I can honestly say I +shall be glad if your married life proves that my old-fashioned +prejudices are without justification in your case. Accept my +thanks for your invitation; and let me hope that my plain +speaking has not offended you." + +She bowed, and looked about her for Tommie before she advanced to +the carriage waiting for her at the gate. In the surprise of +seeing Moody she had forgotten to look back for the dog when she +entered the shrubbery. She now called to him, and blew the +whistle at her watchchain. Not a sign of Tommie was to be seen. +Hardyman instantly directed the servants to search in the cottage +and out of the cottage for the dog. The order was obeyed with all +needful activity and intelligence, and entirely without success. +For the time being at any rate, Tommie was lost. + +Hardyman promised to have the dog looked for in every part of the +farm, and to send him back in the care of one of his own men. +With these polite assurances Lady Lydiard was obliged to be +satisfied. She drove away in a very despondent frame of mind. +"First Isabel, and now Tommie," thought her Ladyship. "I am +losing the only companions who made life tolerable to me." + +Returning from the garden gate, after taking leave of his +visitor, Hardyman received from his servant a handful of letters +which had just arrived for him. Walking slowly over the lawn as +he opened them, he found nothing but excuses for the absence of +guests who had already accepted their invitations. He had just +thrust the letters into his pocket, when he heard footsteps +behind him, and, looking + round, found himself confronted by Moody. + +"Hullo! have you come to lunch?" Hardyman asked, roughly. + +"I have come here, sir, with a little gift for Miss Isabel, in +honor of her marriage," Moody answered quietly, "and I ask your +permission to put it on the table, so that she may see it when +your guests sit down to luncheon." + +He opened a jeweler's case as he spoke, containing a plain gold +bracelet with an inscription engraved on the inner side: "To Miss +Isabel Miller, with the sincere good wishes of Robert Moody." + +Plain as it was, the design of the bracelet was unusually +beautiful. Hardyman had noticed Moody's agitation on the day when +he had met Isabel near her aunt's house, and had drawn his own +conclusions from it. His face darkened with a momentary jealousy +as he looked at the bracelet. "All right, old fellow!" he said, +with contemptuous familiarity. "Don't be modest. Wait and give it +to her with your own hand." + +"No, sir," said Moody "I would rather leave it, if you please, to +speak for itself." + +Hardyman understood the delicacy of feeling which dictated those +words, and, without well knowing why, resented it. He was on the +point of speaking, under the influence of this unworthy motive, +when Isabel's voice reached his ears, calling to him from the +cottage. + +Moody's face contracted with a sudden expression of pain as he, +too, recognized the voice. "Don't let me detain you, sir," he +said, sadly. "Good-morning!" + +Hardyman left him without ceremony. Moody, slowly following, +entered the tent. All the preparations for the luncheon had been +completed; nobody was there. The places to be occupied by the +guests were indicated by cards bearing their names. Moody found +Isabel's card, and put his bracelet inside the folded napkin on +her plate. For a while he stood with his hand on the table, +thinking. The temptation to communicate once more with Isabel +before he lost her forever, was fast getting the better of his +powers of resistance. + +"If I could persuade her to write a word to say she liked her +bracelet," he thought, "it would be a comfort when I go back to +my solitary life." He tore a leaf out of his pocket book and +wrote on it, "One line to say you accept my gift and my good +wishes. Put it under the cushion of your chair, and I shall find +it when the company have left the tent." He slipped the paper +into the case which held the bracelet, and instead of leaving the +farm as he had intended, turned back to the shelter of the +shrubbery. + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +HARDYMAN went on to the cottage. He found Isabel in some +agitation. And there, by her side, with his tail wagging slowly, +and his eye on Hardyman in expectation of a possible kick--there +was the lost Tommie! + +"Has Lady Lydiard gone?" Isabel asked eagerly. + +"Yes," said Hardyman. "Where did you find the dog?" + +As events had ordered it, the dog had found Isabel, under these +circumstances. + +The appearance of Lady Lydiard's card in the smoking-room had +been an alarming event for Lady Lydiard's adopted daughter. She +was guiltily conscious of not having answered her Ladyship's +note, inclosed in Miss Pink's letter, and of not having taken her +Ladyship's advice in regulating her conduct towards Hardyman. As +he rose to leave the room and receive his visitor in the grounds, +Isabel begged him to say nothing of her presence at the farm, +unless Lady Lydiard exhibited a forgiving turn of mind by asking +to see her. Left by herself in the smoking-room, she suddenly +heard a bark in the passage which had a familiar sound in her +ears. She opened the door--and in rushed Tommie, with one of his +shrieks of delight! Curiosity had taken him into the house. He +had heard the voices in the smoking-room; had recognized Isabel's +voice; and had waited, with his customary cunning and his +customary distrust of strangers, until Hardyman was out of the +way. Isabel kissed and caressed him, and then drove him out again +to the lawn, fearing that Lady Lydiard might return to look for +him. Going back to the smoking-room, she stood at the window +watching for Hardyman's return. When the servants came to look +for the dog, she could only tell them that she had last seen him +in the grounds, not far from the cottage. The useless search +being abandoned, and the carriage having left the gate, who +should crawl out from the back of a cupboard in which some empty +hampers were placed but Tommie himself! How he had contrived to +get back to the smoking-room (unless she had omitted to +completely close the door on her return) it was impossible to +say. But there he was, determined this time to stay with Isabel, +and keeping in his hiding place until he heard the movement of +the carriage-wheels, which informed him that his lawful mistress +had left the cottage! Isabel had at once called Hardyman, on the +chance that the carriage might yet be stopped. It was already out +of sight, and nobody knew which of two roads it had taken, both +leading to London. In this emergency, Isabel could only look at +Hardyman and ask what was to be done. + +"I can't spare a servant till after the party," he answered. "The +dog must be tied up in the stables." + +Isabel shook her head. Tommie was not accustomed to be tied up. +He would make a disturbance, and he would be beaten by the +grooms. "I will take care of him," she said. "He won't leave me." + +"There's something else to think of besides the dog," Hardyman +rejoined irritably. "Look at these letters!" He pulled them out +of his pocket as he spoke. "Here are no less than seven men, all +calling themselves my friends, who accepted my invitation, and +who write to excuse themselves on the very day of the party. Do +you know why? They're all afraid of my father--I forgot to tell +you he's a Cabinet Minister as well as a Lord. Cowards and cads. +They have heard he isn't coming and they think to curry favor +with the great man by stopping away. Come along, Isabel! Let's +take their names off the luncheon table. Not a man of them shall +ever darken my doors again!" + +"I am to blame for what has happened," Isabel answered sadly. "I +am estranging you from your friends. There is still time, Alfred, +to alter your mind and let me go." + +He put his arm round her with rough fondness. "I would sacrifice +every friend I have in the world rather than lose you. Come +along!" + +They left the cottage. At the entrance to the tent, Hardyman +noticed the dog at Isabel's heels, and vented his ill-temper, as +usual with male humanity, on the nearest unoffending creature +that he could find. "Be off, you mongrel brute!" he shouted. The +tail of Tommie relaxed from its customary tight curve over the +small of his back; and the legs of Tommie (with his tail between +them) took him at full gallop to the friendly shelter of the +cupboard in the smoking-room. It was one of those trifling +circumstances which women notice seriously. Isabel said nothing; +she only thought to herself, "I wish he had shown his temper when +I first knew him!" + +They entered the tent. + +"I'll read the names," said Hardyman, "and you find the cards and +tear them up. Stop! I'll keep the cards. You're just the sort of +woman my father likes. He'll be reconciled to me when he sees +you, after we are married. If one of those men ever asks him for +a place, I'll take care, if it's years hence, to put an obstacle +in his way! Here; take my pencil, and make a mark on the cards to +remind me; the same mark I set against a horse in my book when I +don't like him--a cross, inclosed in a circle." He produced his +pocketbook. His hands trembled with anger as he gave the pencil +to Isabel and laid the book on the table. He had just read the +name of the first false friend, and Isabel had just found the +card, when a servant appeared with a message. "Mrs. Drumblade has +arrived, sir, and wishes to see you on a matter of the greatest +importance." + +Hardyman left the tent, not very willingly. "Wait here," he said +to Isabel; "I'll be back directly." + +She was standing near her own place at the table. Moody had left +one end of the jeweler's case visible above the napkin, to +attract her attention. In a minute more the bracelet and note +were in her hands. She dropped on her chair, overwhelmed by the +conflicting emotions that rose in her at + the sight of the bracelet, at the reading of the note. Her head +drooped, and the tears filled her eyes. "Are all women as blind +as I have been to what is good and noble in the men who love +them?" she wondered, sadly. "Better as it is," she thought, with +a bitter sigh; "I am not worthy of him." + +As she took up the pencil to write her answer to Moody on the +back of her dinner-card, the servant appeared again at the door +of the tent. + +"My master wants you at the cottage, miss, immediately." + +Isabel rose, putting the bracelet and the note in the +silver-mounted leather pocket (a present from Hardyman) which +hung at her belt. In the hurry of passing round the table to get +out, she never noticed that her dress touched Hardyman's +pocketbook, placed close to the edge, and threw it down on the +grass below. The book fell into one of the heat cracks which Lady +Lydiard had noticed as evidence of the neglected condition of the +cottage lawn. + +"You ought to hear the pleasant news my sister has just brought +me," said Hardyman, when Isabel joined him in the parlor. "Mrs. +Drumblade has been told, on the best authority, that my mother is +not coming to the party." + +"There must be some reason, of course, dear Isabel," added Mrs. +Drumblade. "Have you any idea of what it can be? I haven't seen +my mother myself; and all my inquiries have failed to find it +out." + +She looked searchingly at Isabel as she spoke. The mask of +sympathy on her face was admirably worn. Nobody who possessed +only a superficial acquaintance with Mrs. Drumblade's character +would have suspected how thoroughly she was enjoying in secret +the position of embarrassment in which her news had placed her +brother. Instinctively doubting whether Mrs. Drumblade's friendly +behavior was quite as sincere as it appeared to be, Isabel +answered that she was a stranger to Lady Rotherfield, and was +therefore quite at a loss to explain the cause of her ladyship's +absence. As she spoke, the guests began to arrive in quick +succession, and the subject was dropped as a matter of course. + +It was not a merry party. Hardyman's approaching marriage had +been made the topic of much malicious gossip, and Isabel's +character had, as usual in such cases, become the object of all +the false reports that scandal could invent. Lady Rotherfield's +absence confirmed the general conviction that Hardyman was +disgracing himself. The men were all more or less uneasy. The +women resented the discovery that Isabel was--personally +speaking, at least--beyond the reach of hostile criticism. Her +beauty was viewed as a downright offense; her refined and modest +manners were set down as perfect acting; "really disgusting, my +dear, in so young a girl." General Drumblade, a large and mouldy +veteran, in a state of chronic astonishment (after his own +matrimonial experience) at Hardyman's folly in marrying at all, +diffused a wide circle of gloom, wherever he went and whatever he +did. His accomplished wife, forcing her high spirits on +everybody's attention with a sort of kittenish playfulness, +intensified the depressing effect of the general dullness by all +the force of the strongest contrast. After waiting half an hour +for his mother, and waiting in vain, Hardyman led the way to the +tent in despair. "The sooner I fill their stomachs and get rid of +them," he thought savagely, "the better I shall be pleased!" + +The luncheon was attacked by the company with a certain silent +ferocity, which the waiters noticed as remarkable, even in their +large experience. The men drank deeply, but with wonderfully +little effect in raising their spirits; the women, with the +exception of amiable Mrs. Drumblade, kept Isabel deliberately out +of the conversation that went on among them. General Drumblade, +sitting next to her in one of the places of honor, discoursed to +Isabel privately on "my brother-in-law Hardyman's infernal +temper." A young marquis, on her other side--a mere lad, chosen +to make the necessary speech in acknowledgment of his superior +rank--rose, in a state of nervous trepidation, to propose +Isabel's health as the chosen bride of their host. Pale and +trembling, conscious of having forgotten the words which he had +learnt beforehand, this unhappy young nobleman began: "Ladies and +gentlemen, I haven't an idea--" He stopped, put his hand to his +head, stared wildly, and sat down again; having contrived to +state his own case with masterly brevity and perfect truth, in a +speech of seven words. + +While the dismay, in some cases, and the amusement in others, was +still at its height, Hardyman's valet made his appearance, and, +approaching his master, said in a whisper, "Could I speak to you, +sit, for a moment outside?" + +"What the devil do you want?" Hardyman asked irritably. "Is that +a letter in your hand? Give it to me." + +The valet was a Frenchman. In other words, he had a sense of what +was due to himself. His master had forgotten this. He gave up the +letter with a certain dignity of manner, and left the tent. +Hardyman opened the letter. He turned pale as he read it; +crumpled it in his hand, and threw it down on the table. "By +G--d! it's a lie!" he exclaimed furiously. + +The guests rose in confusion. Mrs. Drumblade, finding the letter +within her reach, coolly possessed herself of it; recognized her +mother's handwriting; and read these lines: + +"I have only now succeeded in persuading your father to let me +write to you. For God's sake, break off your marriage at any +sacrifice. Your father has heard, on unanswerable authority, that +Miss Isabel Miller left her situation in Lady Lydiard's house on +suspicion of theft." + +While his sister was reading this letter, Hardyman had made his +way to Isabel's chair. "I must speak to you, directly," he +whispered. "Come away with me!" He turned, as he took her arm, +and looked at the table. "Where is my letter?" he asked. Mrs. +Drumblade handed it to him, dexterously crumpled up again as she +had found it. "No bad news, dear Alfred, I hope?" she said, in +her most affectionate manner. Hardyman snatched the letter from +her, without answering, and led Isabel out of the tent. + +"Read that!" he said, when they were alone. "And tell me at once +whether it's true or false." + +Isabel read the letter. For a moment the shock of the discovery +held her speechless. She recovered herself, and returned the +letter. + +"It is true," she answered. + +Hardyman staggered back as if she had shot him. + +"True that you are guilty?" he asked. + +"No; I am innocent. Everybody who knows me believes in my +innocence. It is true the appearances were against me. They are +against me still." Having said this, she waited, quietly and +firmly, for his next words. + +He passed his hand over his forehead with a sigh of relief. "It's +bad enough as it is," he said, speaking quietly on his side. "But +the remedy for it is plain enough. Come back to the tent." + +She never moved. "Why?" she asked. + +"Do you suppose I don't believe in your innocence too?" he +answered. "The one way of setting you right with the world now is +for me to make you my wife, in spite of the appearances that +point to you. I'm too fond of you, Isabel, to give you up. Come +back with me, and I will announce our marriage to my friends." + +She took his hand, and kissed it. "It is generous and good of +you," she said; "but it must not be." + +He took a step nearer to her. "What do you mean?" he asked. + +"It was against my will," she pursued, "that my aunt concealed +the truth from you. I did wrong to consent to it, I will do wrong +no more. Your mother is right, Alfred. After what has happened, I +am not fit to be your wife until my innocence is proved. It is +not proved yet." + +The angry color began to rise in his face once more. "Take care," +he said; "I am not in a humor to be trifled with." + +"I am not trifling with you," she answered, in low, sad tones. + +"You really mean what you say?" + +"I mean it." + +"Don't be obstinate, Isabel. Take time to consider." + +"You are very kind, Alfred. My duty is plain to me. I will marry +you--if you still wish it--when my good name is restored to me. +Not before." + +He laid one hand on her arm, and pointed with the other to the +guests in the distance, all leaving the tent on the way to their +carriages. + +"You r good name will be restored to you," he said, "on the day +when I make you my wife. The worst enemy you have cannot +associate _my_ name with a suspicion of theft. Remember that and +think a little before you decide. You see those people there. If +you don't change your mind by the time they have got to the +cottage, it's good-by between us, and good-by forever. I refuse +to wait for you; I refuse to accept a conditional engagement. +Wait, and think. They're walking slowly; you have got some +minutes more." + +He still held her arm, watching the guests as they gradually +receded from view. It was not until they had all collected in a +group outside the cottage door that he spoke himself, or that he +permitted Isabel to speak again. + +"Now," he said, "you have had your time to get cool. Will you +take my arm, and join those people with me? or will you say +good-by forever?" + +"Forgive me, Alfred!" she began, gently. "I cannot consent, in +justice to you, to shelter myself behind your name. It is the +name of your family; and they have a right to expect that you +will not degrade it--" + +"I want a plain answer," he interposed sternly. "Which is it? +Yes, or No?" + +She looked at him with sad compassionate eyes. Her voice was firm +as she answered him in one word as he had desired. The word was-- +"No." + +Without speaking to her, without even looking at her, he turned +and walked back to the cottage. + +Making his way silently through the group of visitors--every one +of whom had been informed of what had happened by his +sister--with his head down and his lips fast closed, he entered +the parlor and rang the bell which communicated with his +foreman's rooms at the stables. + +"You know that I am going abroad on business?" he said, when the +man appeared. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I am going to-day--going by the night train to Dover. Order the +horse to be put to instantly in the dogcart. Is there anything +wanted before I am off?" + +The inexorable necessities of business asserted their claims +through the obedient medium of the foreman. Chafing at the delay, +Hardyman was obliged to sit at his desk, signing checks and +passing accounts, with the dogcart waiting in the stable yard. + +A knock at the door startled him in the middle of his work. "Come +in," he called out sharply. + +He looked up, expecting to see one of the guests or one of the +servants. It was Moody who entered the room. Hardyman laid down +his pen, and fixed his eyes sternly on the man who had dared to +interrupt him. + +"What the devil do _you_ want?" he asked. + +"I have seen Miss Isabel, and spoken with her," Moody replied. +"Mr. Hardyman, I believe it is in your power to set this matter +right. For the young lady's sake, sir, you must not leave England +without doing it." + +Hardyman turned to his foreman. "Is this fellow mad or drunk?" he +asked. + +Moody proceeded as calmly and as resolutely as if those words had +not been spoken. "I apologize for my intrusion, sir. I will +trouble you with no explanations. I will only ask one question. +Have you a memorandum of the number of that five-hundred pound +note you paid away in France?" + +Hardyman lost all control over himself. + +"You scoundrel!" he cried, "have you been prying into my private +affairs? Is it _your_ business to know what I did in France?" + +"Is it _your_ vengeance on a woman to refuse to tell her the +number of a bank-note?" Moody rejoined, firmly. + +That answer forced its way, through Hardyman's anger, to +Hardyman's sense of honor. He rose and advanced to Moody. For a +moment the two men faced each other in silence. "You're a bold +fellow," said Hardyman, with a sudden change from anger to irony. +"I'll do the lady justice. I'll look at my pocketbook." + +He put his hand into the breast-pocket of his coat; he searched +his other pockets; he turned over the objects on his +writing-table. The book was gone. + +Moody watched him with a feeling of despair. "Oh! Mr. Hardyman, +don't say you have lost your pocketbook!" + +He sat down again at his desk, with sullen submission to the new +disaster. "All I can say is you're at liberty to look for it," he +replied. "I must have dropped it somewhere." He turned +impatiently to the foreman, "Now then! What is the next check +wanted? I shall go mad if I wait in this damned place much +longer!" + +Moody left him, and found his way to the servants' offices. "Mr. +Hardyman has lost his pocketbook," he said. "Look for it, indoors +and out--on the lawn, and in the tent. Ten pounds reward for the +man who finds it!" + +Servants and waiters instantly dispersed, eager for the promised +reward. The men who pursued the search outside the cottage +divided their forces. Some of them examined the lawn and the +flower-beds. Others went straight to the empty tent. These last +were too completely absorbed in pursuing the object in view to +notice that they disturbed a dog, eating a stolen lunch of his +own from the morsels left on the plates. The dog slunk away under +the canvas when the men came in, waited in hiding until they had +gone, then returned to the tent, and went on with his luncheon. + +Moody hastened back to the part of the grounds (close to the +shrubbery) in which Isabel was waiting his return. + +She looked at him, while he was telling her of his interview with +Hardyman, with an expression in her eyes which he had never seen +in them before--an expression which set his heart beating wildly, +and made him break off in his narrative before he had reached the +end. + +"I understand," she said quietly, as he stopped in confusion. +"You have made one more sacrifice to my welfare. Robert! I +believe you are the noblest man that ever breathed the breath of +life!" + +His eyes sank before hers; he blushed like a boy. "I have done +nothing for you yet," he said. "Don't despair of the future, if +the pocketbook should not be found. I know who the man is who +received the bank note; and I have only to find him to decide the +question whether it _is_ the stolen note or not." + +She smiled sadly as his enthusiasm. "Are you going back to Mr. +Sharon to help you?" she asked. "That trick he played me has +destroyed _my_ belief in him. He no more knows than I do who the +thief really is." + +"You are mistaken, Isabel. He knows--and I know." He stopped +there, and made a sign to her to be silent. One of the servants +was approaching them. + +"Is the pocketbook found?" Moody asked. + +"No, sir." + +"Has Mr. Hardyman left the cottage?" + +"He has just gone, sir. Have you any further instructions to give +us?" + +"No. There is my address in London, if the pocketbook should be +found." + +The man took the card that was handed to him and retired. Moody +offered his arm to Isabel. "I am at your service," he said, "when +you wish to return to your aunt." + +They had advanced nearly as far as the tent, on their way out of +the grounds, when they were met by a gentleman walking towards +them from the cottage. He was a stranger to Isabel. Moody +immediately recognized him as Mr. Felix Sweetsir. + +"Ha! our good Moody!" cried Felix. "Enviable man! you look +younger than ever." He took off his hat to Isabel; his bright +restless eyes suddenly became quiet as they rested on her. "Have +I the honor of addressing the future Mrs. Hardyman? May I offer +my best congratulations? What has become of our friend Alfred?" + +Moody answered for Isabel. "If you will make inquiries at the +cottage, sir," he said, "you will find that you are mistaken, to +say the least of it, in addressing your questions to this young +lady." + +Felix took off his hat again--with the most becoming appearance +of surprise and distress. + +"Something wrong, I fear?" he said, addressing Isabel. "I am, +indeed, ashamed if I have ignorantly given you a moment's pain. +Pray accept my most sincere apologies. I have only this instant +arrived; my health would not allow me to be present at the +luncheon. Permit me to express the earnest hope that matters may +be set right to the satisfaction of all parties. Good-afternoon!" + +He bowed with elaborate courtesy, and turned back to the cottage. + +"Who is that?" Isabel asked. + +"Lady Lydiard's nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir," Moody answered, with +a sudden sternness of tone, and a sudden coldness of manner, +which surprised Isabel. + +"You don't like him?" she said. + +As she spoke, Fe lix stopped to give audience to one of the +grooms, who had apparently been sent with a message to him. He +turned so that his face was once more visible to Isabel. Moody +pressed her hand significantly as it rested on his arm. + +"Look well at that man," he whispered. "It's time to warn you. +Mr. Felix Sweetsir is the worst enemy you have!" + +Isabel heard him in speechless astonishment. He went on in tones +that trembled with suppressed emotion. + +"You doubt if Sharon knows the thief. You doubt if I know the +thief. Isabel! as certainly as the heaven is above us, there +stands the wretch who stole the bank-note!" + +She drew her hand out of his arm with a cry of terror. She looked +at him as if she doubted whether he was in his right mind. + +He took her hand, and waited a moment trying to compose himself. + +"Listen to me," he said. "At the first consultation I had with +Sharon he gave this advice to Mr. Troy and to me. He said, +'Suspect the very last person on whom suspicion could possibly +fall.' Those words, taken with the questions he had asked before +he pronounced his opinion, struck through me as if he had struck +me with a knife. I instantly suspected Lady Lydiard's nephew. +Wait! From that time to this I have said nothing of my suspicion +to any living soul. I knew in my own heart that it took its rise +in the inveterate dislike that I have always felt for Mr. +Sweetsir, and I distrusted it accordingly. But I went back to +Sharon, for all that, and put the case into his hands. His +investigations informed me that Mr. Sweetsir owed 'debts of +honor' (as gentlemen call them), incurred through lost bets, to a +large number of persons, and among them a bet of five hundred +pounds lost to Mr. Hardyman. Further inquiries showed that Mr. +Hardyman had taken the lead in declaring that he would post Mr. +Sweetsir as a defaulter, and have him turned out of his clubs, +and turned out of the betting-ring. Ruin stared him in the face +if he failed to pay his debt to Mr. Hardyman on the last day left +to him--the day after the note was lost. On that very morning, +Lady Lydiard, speaking to me of her nephew's visit to her, said, +'If I had given him an opportunity of speaking, Felix would have +borrowed money of me; I saw it in his face.' One moment more, +Isabel. I am not only certain that Mr. Sweetsir took the +five-hundred pound note out of the open letter, I am firmly +persuaded that he is the man who told Lord Rotherfield of the +circumstances under which you left Lady Lydiard's house. Your +marriage to Mr. Hardyman might have put you in a position to +detect the theft. You, not I, might, in that case, have +discovered from your husband that the stolen note was the note +with which Mr. Sweetsir paid his debt. He came here, you may +depend on it, to make sure that he had succeeded in destroying +your prospects. A more depraved villain at heart than that man +never swung from a gallows!" + +He checked himself at those words. The shock of the disclosure, +the passion and vehemence with which he spoke, overwhelmed +Isabel. She trembled like a frightened child. + +While he was still trying to soothe and reassure her, a low +whining made itself heard at her feet. They looked down, and saw +Tommie. Finding himself noticed at last, he expressed his sense +of relief by a bark. Something dropped out of his mouth. As Moody +stooped to pick it up, the dog ran to Isabel and pushed his head +against her feet, as his way was when he expected to have the +handkerchief thrown over him, preparatory to one of those games +at hide-and-seek which have been already mentioned. Isabel put +out her hand to caress him, when she was stopped by a cry from +Moody. It was _his_ turn to tremble now. His voice faltered as he +said the words, "The dog has found the pocketbook!" + +He opened the book with shaking hands. A betting-book was bound +up in it, with the customary calendar. He turned to the date of +the day after the robbery. + +There was the entry: "Felix Sweetsir. Paid 500 pounds. Note +numbered, N 8, 70564; dated 15th May, 1875." + +Moody took from his waistcoat pocket his own memorandum of the +number of the lost bank-note. "Read it Isabel," he said. "I won't +trust my memory." + +She read it. The number and date of the note entered in the +pocketbook exactly corresponded with the number and date of the +note that Lady Lydiard had placed in her letter. + +Moody handed the pocketbook to Isabel. "There is the proof of +your innocence," he said, "thanks to the dog! Will you write and +tell Mr. Hardyman what has happened?" he asked, with his head +down and his eyes on the ground. + +She answered him, with the bright color suddenly flowing over her +face. + +"_You_ shall write to him," she said, "when the time comes." + +"What time?" he asked. + +She threw her arms round his neck, and hid her face on his bosom. + +"The time," she whispered, "when I am your wife." + +A low growl from Tommie reminded them that he too had some claim +to be noticed. + +Isabel dropped on her knees, and saluted her old playfellow with +the heartiest kisses she had ever given him since the day when +their acquaintance began. "You darling!" she said, as she put him +down again, "what can I do to reward you?" + +Tommie rolled over on his back--more slowly than usual, in +consequence of his luncheon in the tent. He elevated his four +paws in the air and looked lazily at Isabel out of his bright +brown eyes. If ever a dog's look spoke yet, Tommie's look said, +"I have eaten too much; rub my stomach." + + +POSTSCRIPT. + +Persons of a speculative turn of mind are informed that the +following document is for sale, and are requested to mention what +sum they will give for it. + +"IOU, Lady Lydiard, five hundred pounds (L500), Felix Sweetsir." + +Her Ladyship became possessed of this pecuniary remittance under +circumstances which surround it with a halo of romantic interest. +It was the last communication she was destined to receive from +her accomplished nephew. There was a Note attached to it, which +cannot fail to enhance its value in the estimation of all +right-minded persons who assist the circulation of paper money. + +The lines that follow are strictly confidential: + +"Note.--Our excellent Moody informs me, my dear aunt, that you +have decided (against his advice) on 'refusing to prosecute.' I +have not the slightest idea of what he means; but I am very much +obliged to him, nevertheless, for reminding me of a circumstance +which is of some interest to yourself personally. + +"I am on the point of retiring to the Continent in search of +health. One generally forgets something important when one starts +on a journey. Before Moody called, I had entirely forgotten to +mention that I had the pleasure of borrowing five hundred pounds +of you some little time since. + +"On the occasion to which I refer, your language and manner +suggested that you would not lend me the money if I asked for it. +Obviously, the only course left was to take it without asking. I +took it while Moody was gone to get some curacoa; and I returned +to the picture-gallery in time to receive that delicious liqueur +from the footman's hands. + +"You will naturally ask why I found it necessary to supply myself +(if I may borrow an expression from the language of State +finance) with this 'forced loan.' I was actuated by motives which +I think do me honor. My position at the time was critical in the +extreme. My credit with the money-lenders was at an end; my +friends had all turned their backs on me. I must either take the +money or disgrace my family. If there is a man living who is +sincerely attached to his family, I am that man. I took the +money. + +"Conceive your position as my aunt (I say nothing of myself), if +I had adopted the other alternative. Turned out of the Jockey +Club, turned out of Tattersalls', turned out of the betting-ring; +in short, posted publicly as a defaulter before the noblest +institution in England, the Turf--and all for want of five +hundred pounds to stop the mouth of the greatest brute I know of, +Alfred Hardyman! Let me not harrow your feelings (and mine) by +dwelling on it. Dear and admirable woman! To you belongs the +honor of saving the credit of the family; I can claim nothing but +the inferior merit of having offered you the opportunity. + +"My IOU, it is needless to say, accompanies these lines. Can I do +anything for you abroad?-- F. S." + + +To this it is only necessary to add (first) that Moody was +perfectly right in believing F. S. to be the person who informed +Hardyman's father of Isabel's position when she left Lady +Lydiard's house; and (secondly) that Felix did really forward Mr. +Troy's narrative of the theft to the French police, altering +nothing in it but the number of the lost bank-note. + + +What is there left to write about? Nothing is left--but to say +good-by (very sorrowfully on the writer's part) to the Persons of +the Story. + +Good-by to Miss Pink--who will regret to her dying day that +Isabel's answer to Hardyman was No. + +Good-by to Lady Lydiard--who differs with Miss Pink, and would +have regretted it, to _her_ dying day, if the answer had been +Yes. + +Good-by to Moody and Isabel--whose history has closed with the +closing of the clergyman's book on their wedding-day. + +Good-by to Hardyman--who has sold his farm and his horses, and +has begun a new life among the famous fast trotters of America. + +Good-by to Old Sharon--who, a martyr to his promise, brushed his +hair and washed his face in honor of Moody's marriage; and +catching a severe cold as the necessary consequence, declared, in +the intervals of sneezing, that he would "never do it again." + +And last, not least, good-by to Tommie? No. The writer gave +Tommie his dinner not half an hour since, and is too fond of him +to say good-by. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext of My Lady's Money, by Wilkie Collins + diff --git a/old/mlmny10.zip b/old/mlmny10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f521e9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/mlmny10.zip |