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diff --git a/35591-h/35591-h.htm b/35591-h/35591-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..23728db --- /dev/null +++ b/35591-h/35591-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,20917 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of The Daughter Pays, by Mrs. Baillie Reynolds +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.t1 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 200%; + text-align: center } + +P.t2 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center } + +P.t3 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center } + +P.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center } + +P.t5 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 50%; + text-align: center } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%;} + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.footnote {font-size: 80%; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.transnote {text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +.scap {font-variant: small-caps; } + +P.intro {font-size: 90% ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Daughter Pays, by Mrs. Baillie Reynolds + +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: The Daughter Pays + +Author: Mrs. Baillie Reynolds + +Release Date: March 17, 2011 [EBook #35591] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DAUGHTER PAYS *** + + + + +Produced by Andrew Sly, Al Haines and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t1"> +The<BR> +Daughter Pays +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +<SPAN CLASS="scap">By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds</SPAN> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +A. L. BURT COMPANY +<BR> +Publishers —— New York +</P> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +Published by Arrangements with <SPAN CLASS="scap">George H. Doran Company</SPAN> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +Copyright, 1915, 1916, +<BR> +<SPAN CLASS="scap">By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds</SPAN> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +TO +<BR> +ALICE PERRIN +<BR> +PRE-EMINENT IN SYMPATHY FOR THE WORK OF HER SISTER WRITER +<BR> +WITH AFFECTIONATE ADMIRATION +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + <i>Qui que tu sois, voici ton maître!<BR> + Il l'est, le fut, ou le doit être.</i><BR> +<BR> + Inscription upon a statue of Love, in the Louvre.<BR> +<BR> + Freely rendered—<BR> +<BR> + <i>Whoe'er thou art, thy lord is he.<BR> + He is, or was, or he must be.</i><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t2"> +CONTENTS +</P> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">CHAPTER</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01"><SPAN CLASS="scap">The Man in the Gallery</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02"><SPAN CLASS="scap">Father and Son</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03"><SPAN CLASS="scap">Virginia at Home</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04"><SPAN CLASS="scap">The Two Virginias</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05"><SPAN CLASS="scap">The Old Love</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06"><SPAN CLASS="scap">Gaunt's Terms</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07"><SPAN CLASS="scap">Virginia Decides</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08"><SPAN CLASS="scap">Into the Unknown</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09"><SPAN CLASS="scap">In the Trap</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10"><SPAN CLASS="scap">Andromeda</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11"><SPAN CLASS="scap">A First Experience</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12"><SPAN CLASS="scap">The Beginning of Defeat</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13"><SPAN CLASS="scap">The Treatment Breaks Down</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14"><SPAN CLASS="scap">Instantaneous Conversion</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15"><SPAN CLASS="scap">No Place of Repentance</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16"><SPAN CLASS="scap">Renouncement</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17"><SPAN CLASS="scap">What Comes Next?</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18"><SPAN CLASS="scap">The Final Test</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19"><SPAN CLASS="scap">Absence</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20"><SPAN CLASS="scap">A Case for Interposition?</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21"><SPAN CLASS="scap">The Last Ride Together</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap22"><SPAN CLASS="scap">The Roman Villa</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap23"><SPAN CLASS="scap">Temptation</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap24"><SPAN CLASS="scap">Escape</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap25"><SPAN CLASS="scap">The Return</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap26"><SPAN CLASS="scap">The Difficult Path</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap27"><SPAN CLASS="scap">Lunch at Perley Hatch</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap28"><SPAN CLASS="scap">The Way Back</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap29"><SPAN CLASS="scap">The Mastery</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap30"><SPAN CLASS="scap">The Escape</SPAN></A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t2"> +THE DAUGHTER PAYS +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE MAN IN THE GALLERY +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>Yes, I have felt like some deserted world<BR> + That God hath done with, and had cast aside<BR> + Untilled, no use, no pleasure, not desired ...<BR> + Could such a world have hope that, some blest day,<BR> + God would remember her, and fashion her<BR> + Anew?</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Jean Ingelow.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The full sunshine of late June, tempered by the medium +of London atmosphere, illumined the long extent of +Gallery Number Sixteen at Hertford House. +</P> + +<P> +It was a pay-day, and there were, in consequence, but +few visitors. The expanse of polished floor glimmered +with a suggestion of coolness, a hint of ice; and the summer +light touched with brilliance the rich colour on the +walls, the mellow harmonies of the bits of old furniture +ranged below. +</P> + +<P> +The space and solitude, the silence and sunlight, emphasised +and threw into strong relief the figures of two +girls, deep in contemplation before the portrait of Isabella, +wife of Paul de Vos. +</P> + +<P> +Though these were modern, even ultra-modern, Nattier +and Boucher, great interpreters of an artificial age, might +have hailed them as kindred spirits. They seemed eloquent +of all that luxury could produce in the way of +exotic perfection. But for the absence of rouge and +powder, they were as far removed from the dingy, the +commonplace, or the underbred, as any pre-Revolution +marquise, smiling from the windows of her château upon +a world dark with misery, convulsed with pain, and all +unconscious of its very existence. +</P> + +<P> +Far indeed from these hot-house blooms seemed the +seamy side. They were of those who feed on the roses +and lie in the lilies of life. They belonged to the class +which a novelist of our own day has so happily described +as expensive. They were the fine flower of our epoch, +and unconscious of their own supreme selfishness. +</P> + +<P> +One was of the petite type, gipsy brown and captivating, +from the tip of her plumes to the shoes and stockings +which matched her gown, and upon whose buckles +the light winked. The other was taller and more willowy. +She was not big, but formed with the lithe grace of the +modern Atalanta. Something in the veiled loveliness of +her soft eye suggested a dove. Her hair was fair, and +her face, wide across the brows, and tapering at the chin, +seemed designed to make an involuntary appeal to the +heartstrings of any man who looked at her. Every movement +of this girl was graceful. Yet one would have felt +certain that her grace was unstudied; she was not self-conscious; +her attentions seemed entirely absorbed by the +beauty of the paintings at which she gazed. +</P> + +<P> +Thus she stood, her chin uplifted; and a man who +entered, with halting step, from Gallery Fifteen, shot a +keen glance and stopped short. +</P> + +<P> +He was not a young man, and his dress, for London, +was negligent; whilst his long black moustache gave him +a slightly out-of-date, or provincial, aspect. His black +hair showed some grey at the temples, but he appeared to +be in vigorous health. +</P> + +<P> +For some long moments he stood in absorbed contemplation +of the girlish figure isolated against the dim, dignified +background of the gallery: and as he gazed there +crept into his face an expression which made it almost +devilish. Every feature hardened—the mouth took on +a sneer, the eyes glowed with some concentration of feeling +which altered his whole face for the worse. +</P> + +<P> +As yet unconscious of his presence, the girl gazed on; +and after a minute her smaller, darker friend strolled up +and joined her. She said something that made the other +laugh. The chime of their mirth sounded sweetly through +the empty space, but brought to the lips of the watcher a +curl of contempt. He began to move forward slowly, +seemingly intent upon the pictures, but always coming +nearer, until he stood where he could hear the girls' light, +careless talk. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear," said the smaller girl, "I am thinking all +the time what a fancy dress this would make, for anybody +that could wear it." They were standing before Mierevelt's +lovely portrait of the young nameless lady in the +ruff. +</P> + +<P> +As her companion did not immediately reply, she added +insistently: "Virginia! Did you hear?" +</P> + +<P> +The lame man started, or, as it were, winced at the +sound of the name; yet a certain satisfaction crept into +his eyes, as of one who only reflects: "I thought so! I +was not mistaken." +</P> + +<P> +Virginia, thus appealed to, brought her dreamy gaze +from the portrait of the burgomaster who sits with his +small son. "What? A fancy dress? Oh, Mims, yes! +That little bit of stiffened lace round the back of her hair +is an inspiration. I could make it, too—I see just how +it's done." +</P> + +<P> +The two proceeded to examine the head-dress in detail, +with girlish talk about the way to copy it. "Gold embroidery +all down the front of her gown. How sweet!" +sighed Virginia admiringly. "But that ruff—would it +do?" +</P> + +<P> +"For you? Of course! You could wear it, for you +have a throat. But what <i>did</i> little people like me do, +when they had all that between their chin and their +chest?" +</P> + +<P> +Virginia was much amused. "No, Mims, you were not +made for a ruff! But then, <i>en revanche,</i> you can wear +all those lovely Venetian reds and ambers that I can't +touch!" +</P> + +<P> +Childish talk, but with no suspicion of a critical listener! +The lame man heard every word. As the eager +girl turned to point across the gallery to a picture exemplifying +the colours she meant, she slightly brushed against +him, for he was standing within a few feet of her. He +stepped back, raising his hat in acknowledgment of her +gentle apology; and his eyes, full of something between +hostility and contempt, met hers hardly, as if in a challenge, +for a puzzling instant before he turned away and +limped to another place. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia's colour rose and her lips set, as if an unspoken +insult had reached her. She was not used to read +hostility in the eyes of men. She recovered, however, in +a moment, and continued her study of the pictures, moving +round for some minutes longer, until Miriam, leaning +near her, murmured: +</P> + +<P> +"Shall we go into the next room? There is a custodian +there, and that man keeps on staring odiously." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; let us go and look at the Greuzes," replied Virginia. +</P> + +<P> +It was not long before the unknown man followed them. +He was now more careful, however, and kept his eyes for +the beauties of the catalogue instead of allowing them to +roam towards the beauties of his own day. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think he meant to be rude," presently said +Virginia doubtfully. "He looked at me almost as though +he thought he knew me—as if he expected me to speak +to him." +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, it is evident that you must never be allowed +to go about London alone," laughed Mims. "As if he +knew you, indeed! That's the commonest dodge of all. +I am sure he is trying to be rude—he is edging round +here now——" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, nonsense! Let us think about the pictures +and take no notice. He could not be rude in a public +place like this—he cannot think we are girls of that +sort." +</P> + +<P> +"There's the portrait of you," said Mims mischievously, +pausing before Greuze's picture entitled "Innocence"—the +picture with the lamb. +</P> + +<P> +It was true, the likeness was striking. Virginia even +coloured slightly as she gazed. "Chocolate box!" said +she disdainfully. "Greuze is only pretty-pretty! I +would far rather be like Isabella de Vos!" +</P> + +<P> +As she spoke she moved away with her undulating +grace, the lame man having again approached nearer than +was quite consistent with good manners. +</P> + +<P> +"That's the worst of you, Virginia—you can't go +about without dragging backwards the heads of all the men +that pass," said Mims in injured tones. +</P> + +<P> +"Talk about glass-houses!" was her friend's sarcastic +response, adding with a little sigh: "Well, you won't +long be troubled. Cinderella's clock strikes to-morrow, +and I go back to Wayhurst and my native obscurity." +</P> + +<P> +Miriam's soft, dark eyes clouded. +</P> + +<P> +"Native obscurity! No, my dear, that's the tragedy! +You were <i>not</i> born to it, and you will never thrive in it! +Oh, the pity! I could cry when I think of you, mewed +up in that wee brick-box of a villa, and when I remember +that it's not much more than two years ago since we were +staying with you at Lissendean—riding, hunting, motoring!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't talk of it, Mimsie, for pity's sake! It can't be +helped, you know; and, of course, it isn't half as bad for +me as for poor mother." +</P> + +<P> +Mims made a grumpy sound. She was depressed, not +only by her friend's impending departure, but by the +thought of that friend's destiny. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia Mynors, in the days when she and Miriam +Rosenberg were at school together, had been queen of +everything. She was the elder daughter of a county gentleman, +her clothes came from the best places, she took all +the extras, rode, swam, hunted—with no more thought of +ways and means than her present appearance led one to +suppose. +</P> + +<P> +During the weary days of her father's long illness—a +kind of creeping paralysis which lasted for two years—Virginia +had known that he had money troubles. But +though she had been his devoted nurse and trusted secretary, +she was no more prepared than was her butterfly +mother for the state of financial catastrophe revealed at +his death. The solid ground had failed beneath her feet. +Everything was gone. Even Lissendean, the home in +which she had been born, was mortgaged. They all moved +out, the house was let, and upon the few hundreds a year +received as rent her mother, herself, her brother Antony, +and her little sister Pansy, were to live. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia had to be the moving spirit in it all. She +elected to settle at Wayhurst, because there is an excellent +public school there, and, as a day boy, Antony, who was +nearly fourteen, might obtain the education of a gentleman. +For nearly two years now such had been the girl's +life. Yet even Miriam did not guess the truth—did not +guess the drudgery and devotion of Virginia's daily round. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Rosenberg was what is described as rolling in +money. He had social ambitions, and was very well +pleased when his daughter made friends at school with the +daughter of Bernard Mynors. The Rosenbergs, brother +and sister, had more than once accepted the whole-hearted +hospitality of Lissendean. Their father could not, therefore, +with any good grace, make objections to Miriam's +pleading when she begged to have Virginia to stay with +her. +</P> + +<P> +Miriam had a great deal too much pocket-money. She +sent a substantial cheque to Virginia, that she might provide +herself with an outfit and railway fares for the +projected visit. Virginia was able to devote part of this +cheque to the providing of what was locally known as a +"supply" to do the housework while she herself was away. +She belonged, indeed, to that wonderful type of woman +who can make a pound, expended upon clothes, go as far +as another woman makes five, or even ten. She arrived +in Bryanston Square for her visit with exactly the right +frocks, with her spirits high, and her bloom unimpaired, +in spite of the hard life she led. Youth and high spirit +will carry all before them. Mr. Rosenberg, when his +astute eye rested upon the charming creature, became suddenly +aware of her as an incarnate temptation to his son +Gerald, upon whom all his hopes were concentrated. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Rosenberg was not without good impulses. He desired +to befriend this beautiful girl to whom Fate had +shown herself so cruel. It was, however, more than could +be demanded of human nature that he should be ready to +console her for her misfortunes with the gift of all his +wealth and all his social ambition. As a man of business, +he divined her mother to have been the ruin of the family. +He knew Mrs. Mynors as a lovely, vain, shallow and +selfish person, who all her life had lived for her own +amusement. Such a mother-in-law would be a burden +that Gerald could never carry. Moreover, there were two +younger children, of whom one, the little girl, was badly +crippled—a permanent invalid. +</P> + +<P> +Had Virginia, being her father's daughter, stood alone, +it is just possible that her extreme beauty would have +brought Mr. Rosenberg to the point of allowing the match. +With her encumbrances he felt it to be impossible. He +did not know that it was at Gerald's instigation that Mims +had gone to the length of actually financing the scheme +of the visit. Yet his shrewdness rather suspected something +of the sort. During the whole fortnight of Virginia's +sojourn he had been on tenter-hooks—manœuvring +to keep his son out of the way without seeming to do so. +</P> + +<P> +They had—thanks, he felt sure, to his policy—arrived +safely at the last day of Miss Mynors' stay. Last +moments, however, are fraught with particular danger. +Mr. Rosenberg could not feel that he was as yet "out of +the wood," and would probably have undergone even +worse apprehensions had he known of Gerald's appointment +to meet the two girls at Hertford House and give +them tea. +</P> + +<P> +"If we hadn't arranged to meet Gerald here, I would +just walk right away, out of the place," muttered Mims +presently. "I wish that man would not dog us like this." +</P> + +<P> +"Let us leave off looking at the pictures," suggested +Virginia, "and go and sit at the top of the staircase, in +that recess. Then we shall see Mr. Rosenberg as he comes +up—and the man could hardly pursue us there without +being openly offensive." +</P> + +<P> +"Good!" replied Mims with satisfaction. They left +the Boucher room, in which the stranger seemed to be absorbed +in contemplation, and seated themselves in the +alcove, behind the statue of "Triumphant Love." +</P> + +<P> +They made a dainty picture in the fuller light which +fell upon them there; and they sat on undisturbed until +they saw the head of their escort appearing above the edge +of the staircase. +</P> + +<P> +Mims stood up and called to him, and in a moment he +had joined them. +</P> + +<P> +"Tired of the pictures already?" he asked, glancing +at his watch. "I am not late, am I?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, not a bit. We have only been here a very +few minutes," replied his sister, noting that the lame man +was now standing in the doorway, and that his eyes were +fixed on Gerald. +</P> + +<P> +"Read what is written round the pedestal of this statue, +boy," she went on mischievously. "Is it true, or is it +not?" +</P> + +<P> +Gerald stooped over the words cut upon the circular +base of the figure. He was not actually a handsome man, +but he was, without doubt, distinguished-looking. Mr. +Rosenberg senior prided himself upon the fact that his +son's face showed no racial characteristics. His features +were clean-cut, he was well-shaved and well-groomed, carried +himself with dignity, and was usually self-possessed. +He stood before the marble cupid, conscious in every nerve +of the close proximity of his sister's beautiful friend, and +read aloud the couplet: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + <i>Qui que tu sois, voici ton maître!<BR> + Il l'est, le fut, ou le doit être.</i><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Is it true, Gerald?" asked Mims naughtily. He +looked at Virginia. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it true, Miss Mynors?" +</P> + +<P> +Virginia hesitated. "Well, I think it is, but not in the +sense in which this inscription means it," she ventured +timidly. "I mean—there is a love which is stronger +than anything or anybody—but not <i>that</i> love—not that +silly winged boy." She blushed a little as she spoke, and +looked so divinely pretty, her small teeth just showing between +the parted lips, her shadowy, Greuze eyes uplifted, +that Gerald felt his head swim. +</P> + +<P> +"I think you are right," he said, speaking with extra +gravity to hide his emotion. +</P> + +<P> +"Virgie is simply ridiculous about love," grumbled +Mims. "She would give away her head, her heart, her +hand, anything she had, for those she loves—her mother +and her little sister——" +</P> + +<P> +"And Tony," reprovingly put in Virginia. +</P> + +<P> +"And Tony," teased her friend. "Isn't she a baby, +Gerald?" +</P> + +<P> +The young man considered her. "Or an angel?" he +suggested. There was, to him, something awe-inspiring +in the simplicity of this girl. With a face that might +have brought the world to her feet, she was absorbed in the +domestic affections, untouched, as it would seem, by the +admiration she excited. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, as the car is down there waiting, we had better +be off," remarked Mims, after a short interval in which +she had left the two to talk together. "Are you going to +take us to Fuller's, Gerald? If so, we ought to move on. +You know we must dine early; we are going to the theatre +for Virgie's last night." +</P> + +<P> +The eyes of the man and the girl met, upon that, with +mutual regret. Her last night! Cinderella must put off +her dainty raiment and return to her saucepan-scouring, +bed-making, account-keeping, making-ends-meet existence. +The pang that shot through Gerald's heart was so like +physical pain that he had a fanciful idea of the marble +boy—the "Triumphant Love" who looked smiling down +upon them—having shot his dart and reached the mark +of his innermost feeling. +</P> + +<P> +Could he let her go? +</P> + +<P> +Like his father, he was a man of the world. Like his +father, he had planned the alliance with birth and money +which was to establish his position among English gentry. +There was a sharp struggle in his mind. Had Virginia +had one ounce of the coquette in her, she could have +clinched the matter in five minutes. +</P> + +<P> +The lame man, who had watched the whole colloquy, +descended the stairs behind them in time to see the perfectly +appointed motor in waiting, with its two men in +livery. As he turned about and reascended to enter the +galleries once more, there was a bitter sneer on his mouth, +a look of active malevolence, as of one who deliberately +turns his back upon his better feelings. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +FATHER AND SON +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>The wise sometimes from wisdom's ways depart:<BR> + Can youth then hush the dictates of the heart?<BR> + Precepts of prudence curb, but can't control<BR> + The fierce emotions of the flowing soul.</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Byron</SPAN>.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The three young people, after partaking at Fuller's of +an excellent tea, returned to Bryanston Square in good +time to dress for dinner. +</P> + +<P> +As they entered the house, Mr. Rosenberg emerged +from his library on the ground floor, and called to Gerald, +who, thus summoned, hung up his hat and walked into the +dark, cool room where his father was seated at his roll-top +desk, with a letter lying before him. +</P> + +<P> +The elder man looked up at his only son with a kindly, +half-rueful expression. "Gerald," he said, "I'm not as +a rule tyrannical, and I think you will admit that I don't +pry unduly into your affairs." +</P> + +<P> +"I do admit it, father——" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if I put a question which may seem to you unwarranted, +I want you to understand that there is grave +reason for it. The question is this. Is there any understanding +between yourself and Miss Mynors?" +</P> + +<P> +Gerald flushed, a slow, dark flush, as he seated himself +near his father, his eyes on the ground. "No," he said +quietly, "not as yet." +</P> + +<P> +"Ha!" The shrewd, kindly eyes above the rims of +the reading-glasses were fixed upon him. "That means +that you might—eh, Gerald?" +</P> + +<P> +The younger man did not at once reply. He seemed +to be weighing carefully the thing he wished to say. At +last: +</P> + +<P> +"I am not a fool, father," he began, "and I have ambition, +or I should be no son of yours. I should prefer +to make a marriage which would establish me socially." +Embarrassment made his phrasing somewhat stilted. +"You will remember that when I first saw Miss Mynors, +she was the daughter of a man with a county position. +One assumed the adequate rent-roll that went with it." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes, my boy—I quite understand." +</P> + +<P> +There was a pause. "She is far the most beautiful +girl I ever saw," said Gerald at length. +</P> + +<P> +"I grant it." +</P> + +<P> +"She has also a beautiful disposition." +</P> + +<P> +"H'mph!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it is so. Her birth being undeniable, and her +beauty so great, I have been wondering whether—whether +anything else that is within my reach could ever be as well +worth having—could ever compensate me for her loss." +</P> + +<P> +"In short, my able, intellectual son is preparing to +consider the world well lost for love—eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think, father, you will admit the temptation to do +so in this case." +</P> + +<P> +"I do," was the answer, in tones abrupt but heartfelt. +"I don't mind owning that, during the past fortnight, +while seeing whither you were drifting, I have been half-inclined +to drift also in that direction. But, my boy, it +won't do." He laid his clenched hand heavily on the desk +before him. "I tell you plainly that it won't do. The +girl is beautiful, I don't deny it. But she comes of a bad +stock. Her mother is a woman whom I should describe +as having no moral sense. They are beggars. You would +have bound upon your back, for the term of your natural +life, a ready-made family of three, none of whom, I dare +swear, will ever earn a farthing as long as they live. Just +run your eye over that." +</P> + +<P> +With a sudden twisting gesture he pushed a note, on +lavender paper with a tiny, narrow black border, and +scented with orris root, towards where his son sat. Gerald +read: +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<SPAN CLASS="scap">Laburnum Villa, Wayhurst.</SPAN> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<i>My dear, generous friend,</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>With your kindness to my Virginia already placing me +under a burden of obligation to you, it must indeed seem +to you that I stretch friendship to its utmost in writing +to weary you with my troubles and to beseech advice. +My excuses are, briefly, these: I know you to be an excellent +man of business; and I know that you love my girl.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>I will try not to be tiresome, and, indeed, the story of +my misfortune, though dire, will not take long to tell. +My poor husband—who, alas! had not your gift for +finance—mortgaged our dear home during his lifetime. +At his death, the debts on the estate swallowed up almost +all other available money. We were obliged to let Lissendean, +and to live upon the rent paid. I am quite unused +to business, having lived, till my sad widowhood, so sheltered +a life, and I forgot that if the payments were not +kept up—the interest on the mortgage—I should lose +the house altogether. Believe me, in our straitened circumstances, +it was impossible to keep up the payments. +Only yesterday have I heard from my solicitor that the +mortgagee has foreclosed, and that we are left as destitute +as though my husband had been a crossing-sweeper.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>Can you suggest to me any means by which this trouble +could be met? Is there any way of raising money by +which I can stave off the utter ruin that threatens my helpless +children? I turn to you as a last resort, and you will +never know what it costs my pride to let you into the secret +of our misery. Do not tell my darling child until her +visit is over—let her have her happy, happy moments +with you undimmed. I can break the bad news to her to-morrow, +upon her return—or later, should you by any +chance wish her to extend her visit.—I am, dear Mr. +Rosenberg, your sorely tried friend,</i> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<SPAN CLASS="scap">Virginia Mynors.</SPAN> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The dark colour deepened upon Gerald's face as he +read this letter. He laid it down with a gesture of distaste, +and made no audible comment. +</P> + +<P> +His father, looking sympathetically at him, tapped the +paper with his broad finger-tips. "Gerald," he said, +"that woman is a humbug, through and through. It is +the letter of a cadger. Look at it—written on paper +that cost exactly ten times what her note-paper ought to +cost. Little things like that tell one a lot. No doubt +everything else is on the same scale. I expect they are +up to their necks in debt. What can I do with that letter, +except send the writer ten pounds and regret my inability +to help her further? Nobody could help her. But I tell +you plainly, my son—if I can prevent it, as God's above +us, that woman shall never be your mother-in-law." +</P> + +<P> +He did not speak violently, but judicially, as one summing +up a case. +</P> + +<P> +"I went down there once, you may remember, for a +week-end, while they were still at Lissendean," he continued. +"I took her measure then. She is a woman +who would fleece any man who could be got to admire her. +She is that type. You think the girl is different. I tell +you that what is bred in the bone will come out in the +flesh. The girl isn't to be trusted any more than the +mother. You see the position—absolutely destitute! +Three of them! What is to happen? Say you marry—say +you allow her two or three hundred a year—that's +going to cripple you, and it isn't going to keep her." He +spoke with ever-increasing urgency. "If you give her +three, she'll spend five. If you give her five, she'll spend +eight. Can't you see that for yourself, Gerald? It's all +in that letter—every word of it—if you read between +the lines." +</P> + +<P> +"It's a contemptible letter," said Gerald, pushing back +his chair abruptly; "but I can't believe that the girl——" +</P> + +<P> +"Gerald, put it to yourself a moment. Even if the +girl is the best girl in the world, are you prepared to keep +the lot? Virginia's very qualities—her love for her +family, her generosity where they are concerned—would +be your ruin. You couldn't say no to her; she couldn't +say no to them. There you would all be." +</P> + +<P> +Gerald's face hardened. His likeness to his father +came out clearly—breaking, as it were, through the polish +of his public school and university training. He saw the +case with the Rosenberg eye, and he flinched. +</P> + +<P> +"But how," he stammered, and cleared his throat, +"how am I to draw back with honour, father?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've done that for you. That is, the way out is open +if you will take it. The Liverpool house wrote me this +morning, asking to have you sent down for a week—some +bother about that inspector, Routledge; you know the man. +I wired to the hotel that you might come on by the night +train. It may fairly be called urgent. My counsel to +you is that you just bolt—bolt and get clear away before +you have committed yourself to a thing which must be +hopeless." +</P> + +<P> +Gerald leaned forward, covering his face with his +hands. It was a very rare sign of feeling with him. +</P> + +<P> +"You haven't committed yourself—you haven't said +or done anything that makes it impossible to draw back?" +asked the elder man in deep anxiety. "You said you +hadn't." +</P> + +<P> +"That is true. I have said nothing. I am not even +certain what her answer would be. I could not say that +she had given me any reason to hope. She is so serene, +so impartially sweet, one cannot tell—like my 'Last +Duchess,' you know—'who passed without much the same +smile'?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Rosenberg did not read Browning. The allusion +passed him by. +</P> + +<P> +"Then take your courage in your two hands, boy, and +do as I tell you. In a month or two you'll be thanking +me on your knees. Bolt, I tell you, bolt. Don't see her +again. Leave a message by me—catch the restaurant-train. +I told Brown to pack your valise, and the car is +waiting." +</P> + +<P> +Gerald was pale now. "She'll think me a cur." +</P> + +<P> +"No such thing. I shall make good your case. +Urgency. She will think you could not help yourself. +She will look upon the affair as hung up, not ended. +After a while she will forget it." +</P> + +<P> +"But—but what are they to do?" stammered Gerald. +"The mother may deserve this, but she doesn't. It is she +who will have to suffer." +</P> + +<P> +"She shall not suffer. I will send them enough to +carry on, and I will recommend that wax doll of a mother +to take a situation—to go as companion to some heiress +or something—to put her shoulder to the wheel and help +to keep her children. She has had a good run for her +money, now let her taste the rough side of things for a +while. Do her no harm. Do her good." +</P> + +<P> +Gerald rose and went to the window, gazing out with +unseeing eyes at the busy welter of society traffic—the +swift cars, laden with well-dressed occupants, which +flashed by in the summer evening. +</P> + +<P> +His father watched him anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Gerald," he said at last, "listen to me. If you go +now—if you do as I tell you—there need be nothing +final about it. The girl will be at Wayhurst—you will +know where to find her. Suitors are not likely to be as +common as blackberries, even with her looks. Take this +chance to think things over more coolly than is possible +when she is in the same house with you. I don't want to +demand too great a sacrifice, boy——" +</P> + +<P> +The last words were husky and wistful. He loved his +son sincerely. +</P> + +<P> +Gerald swung round. "You have me beat, as the Irish +say," he muttered abruptly. "I know I'm not master of +myself. If I speak to her, it might be against my better +judgment; I might regret it. You are right—it is better +to temporise, to postpone a decision. Yes, it is better—I +am almost sure." +</P> + +<P> +He spoke absently, jerkily. In his mind was one of +those pictures which rise unbidden—and apparently +without reason—to the memory. It was the picture of +the face of a man he had remarked that afternoon at the +Wallace collection, standing in the doorway of the Boucher +room, as the Rosenberg party went downstairs. The man +had a noticeable face—dark, with an expression in the +eyes which brought to mind the word "smouldering." +</P> + +<P> +He had watched the gay little party of three with an +air that was like Mephistopheles sneering at Faust. "So! +You are snared—snared like other men, by a pretty face +and luminous eyes——" +</P> + +<P> +That was what the silent watcher had conveyed to the +prosperous young suitor. +</P> + +<P> +Oddly, the recollection of his face, swimming all unaware +into the field of memory, turned the scale. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, father, I shall go," said Gerald. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +"Why, where's Jerry?" demanded Mims, as she and +Virginia entered the drawing-room, and proceeded to greet +a couple of young men, who stood there with the before-I-have-dined +expression upon their clean faces. "How +do you do, Lawrence? How do you do, Mr. Bent? I +expect our box will hold five." +</P> + +<P> +"I telephoned Bent an hour ago, Mims," said Mr. +Rosenberg. "Poor old Gerald has had a stroke of bad +luck. I have been obliged to send him away." +</P> + +<P> +Mims paused in consternation, and, as though she could +not help it, her glance flew to Virginia. "To send him +away? Why, where?" she cried blankly. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia, more in reply to the glance than as a result +of the news, coloured divinely. She had put on her very +sweetest gown. It was a survival of Lissendean days, carefully +altered by the finger of genius, so that it looked to +be the very latest. It was pale blue, with touches of faint +periwinkle mauve: and young Bent, as he gazed, was +trying to decide which colour matched her eyes more +nearly. +</P> + +<P> +She was hurt. The news wounded. She had spent +this fairy fortnight in luxury and also in a dream of happiness. +She had not singled out Gerald as anything more +than one factor in her bliss. He was just a part of a +scheme of things which must be injured by any interference. +</P> + +<P> +So unconscious was she of any deeper significance, that +she turned at once to Mr. Rosenberg, lifting to him the +eyes that even he found a difficulty in resisting, and cried +impulsively: +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean that Gerald is gone—that I shall not +see him again before I leave?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, if you are leaving in course of the next few +days, I fear not," said the hypocrite. "He was not +pleased, as you may imagine. But business is sometimes +urgent, you know. Had he not gone, I must have done so +myself: and he thought a night journey to Liverpool rather +much to expect from a man of my age who had a son to +send. Eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course," murmured Virginia. "But it is a pity! +Spoils our last evening!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, now, now, Miss Virginia! That is a little rough +upon poor Bent, who has rallied up at a moment's notice +to make your party complete. Confess now—in the +lamentable circumstances, could I have done better? Eh? +I think not. There is dinner announced. Come, take my +arm. Mims must divide herself between the two young +men." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +VIRGINIA AT HOME +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>Learn, by a mortal yearning, to ascend,<BR> + Seeking a higher object. Love was given,<BR> + Encouraged, sanctioned, chiefly for that end,<BR> + That self might be annulled—her bondage prove<BR> + The fetters of a dream, opposed to Love!</i>"<BR> + —<SPAN CLASS="scap">Wordsworth.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The six-forty-six express from London swept majestically +into the station at Wayhurst. +</P> + +<P> +It was one of the events of the day in the sleepy place—the +arrival of the 6.46; the evening papers came down +on that train. Many residents were on the platform—the +retired Army men to fetch their <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, +others to meet friends. There was nobody to meet Virginia +Mynors, but evidently she did not expect it. She +stood among the throng, in her simplest linen suit, and +searched with her eyes for the outside porter. It was +some time before she could secure his services—he was +busy with more important clients—and when at last he +had shouldered her trunk and hat-box, it was with the remark +that he couldn't "promise to be out at the villas, not +much afore nine o'clock, at any rate." +</P> + +<P> +Virginia intimated that nine o'clock would suit, and +turned, travelling-bag and umbrella-case in hand, to brave +her hot walk. It was a sultry evening. The country +town was bathed in dust; the roads, though it was almost +seven o'clock, seemed shadeless. After a while the girl +stopped to withdraw her sunshade from the case, and proceeded +on her way, holding it up with one hand, the weight +of her hand-luggage in the other. +</P> + +<P> +She looked pale and dispirited. Somehow, the end of +her glorious London visit had tailed off in dissatisfaction. +The Rosenbergs had been kind—most kind—to the last. +They had insisted upon keeping her one day longer, that +Mr. Bent might take them to Hendon to see some flying. +But longer than that she would not stay, for Pansy, her +little lame sister, had written her a letter containing the +following disquieting news: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>Mama is in an awfull stayt. I think she has had bad +news. She says we are rewend.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +This last word Virginia interpreted "ruined," and as +she plodded along the High Street, and up the Balchurch +Road, past Sycamore Terrace and its handsome houses, to +the region of tiny villas, these words were haunting her. +She had supposed their ruin already accomplished. What +could have happened afresh? What had mamma been +doing? Incurring debts which she could not pay? This +she was constantly doing upon a small scale, in spite of +the fact that her daughter rigorously supervised her +cheque-book and controlled the household expenditure. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia took it for granted that her mother would +always spend more than she ought, and was quite used +to depriving herself of necessaries in order to provide +mamma with such small luxuries as expensive soap, note-paper, +perfume, a library subscription, and so on. Graver +expenditure than this she had not anticipated; but she was +blaming herself for having yielded to the imploring desire +of Mims that she should go to London, and her mother's +eager advocacy of the plan. She ought not to have left +mamma to the management of anything; she knew it. +She was prepared to find the weekly expenses doubled, but +she had still a couple of sovereigns in her purse with which +she hoped to meet this deficiency. +</P> + +<P> +As she moved along in the heat, laden and depressed, +her face assumed an aspect of anxiety which altered it +surprisingly. Seen thus, it was obvious that she was not +merely slender, but sadly thin: hollows were discernible +in the cheeks, shadows lurked around the smiling mouth +when it was grave. +</P> + +<P> +At last Laburnum Villa was reached. +</P> + +<P> +With a sigh of relief Virginia trod the tiny garden +approach, pushed open the narrow door, and deposited her +burdens within the passage. +</P> + +<P> +The passage was extremely small. It was distempered +in pale green (Virginia had distempered it), and the paint +was white (Virginia had enamelled it). The floor was +stained (Virginia had stained it), and on the ground there +lay a very valuable old Persian corridor-rug, relic of Lissendean. +From Lissendean, too, came the marble fountain-head +which was used for umbrellas, and the little +carved oak table. +</P> + +<P> +Cinderella's expression changed as she entered her +home—changed to an eager, glowing delight of anticipation. +Light-footed she ran up the tiny staircase, and, +pushing open the door of the back room on the landing, +flew to the side of a child who lay almost flat upon an +invalid-couch at the open window. +</P> + +<P> +There were ecstatic cries: "Virgie, Virgie!" and +"Pansy, my Pansy blossom!" and the two sisters were +clinging together in a rapture of affection. +</P> + +<P> +"Let's look at you, Virgie, darling! Oh, yes, you are +better! It has done you good, hasn't it, dear? Plenty +to eat—you never have enough at home." +</P> + +<P> +"Pansy, Pansy, what nonsense you talk, you silly baby! +Of course I always have plenty to eat! The point is, how +have <i>you</i> been getting on? Has old Mrs. Brown fed you +properly?" +</P> + +<P> +Pansy was able to reassure her. The "supply" had +been quite satisfactory. "Only she said she thought the +missus didn't ought to expect no general to do up her +boots for her, and mend her stockings," remarked the child. +"I told her to give mamma's stockings to me—you know +her darning was abominable. Mamma would never have +worn them afterwards if she had done them. She grumbles +enough as it is at having to wear darned stockings at +all. Mrs. Brown is quite a kind old thing. She is staying +to-night until eight o'clock to get supper, so that you +should not have to set to work the moment you come +home." +</P> + +<P> +"That's a relief," owned Virginia, fetching a deck-chair +and seating herself with her arms behind her head. +"Where is mamma now?" +</P> + +<P> +"She's still out, I think. I haven't heard her come in. +She went this afternoon to call upon Major and Mrs. +Simpson, and to buy some things to trim up a hat." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but she doesn't want another hat——" began +Virgie in vexation, and checked herself. "I only +trimmed her a new one the day I left home." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, somebody sent her some money yesterday, I +think," replied Pansy. "She went this morning and +bought herself a winter coat at Baxter's sale. She said +it was an economy." +</P> + +<P> +"And when the winter comes, she'll say it's out of +date," replied Virgie with a little groan. "Oh dear, I +do wish she wouldn't do things like that—with poor +Tony's suit almost in rags." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you know it is no use for me to say anything, +don't you, dear?" remarked Pansy, with the quaintest +assumption of wisdom. +</P> + +<P> +She would have been a pretty child but for her look of +transparent, egg-shell frailness. Her hair, with bronze +lights in it, clustered charmingly about her small face, and +her eyes were as lovely as Virginia's own, but with the +haggard, hungry expression of a child who has no +health. +</P> + +<P> +She was very small for her age, which was twelve. +Her lameness was the result of a bad accident in babyhood. +Mr. and Mrs. Mynors spent a winter on the +Riviera, leaving their children in charge of a nurse who +was not trustworthy. Mrs. Mynors had been warned that +the nurse was flighty, but had taken no notice of the caution. +She wished to set out on a certain date, and said +she had no time to make other arrangements. The woman +went out for what is now known as a "joy-ride" with the +chauffeur and other chosen companions. She took with +her Pansy, who was the baby, and Bernard, the elder boy, +who was her favourite, leaving Tony at home in charge +of Virginia. The party refreshed itself at many taverns +on the way, and it was hardly surprising that the affair +ended in a serious accident. Bernard was killed, and the +baby's spine was injured. +</P> + +<P> +The shock of his eldest son's loss was thought to have +been the source of Mr. Mynors' own lingering illness. +He had forgiven his wife many a flirtation, much consistent +neglect of himself. He never forgave her for +Bernard's death. +</P> + +<P> +Nine-year-old Virginia waited, all that terrible day, +and part of the night, for the return of the motoring party. +Old Brand, the butler, who had been with the Mynors +from the time of her father's boyhood, and who had begged +his mistress not to leave this nurse in charge of the children, +sat hour after hour with Virginia on his lap, until, +at ten o'clock, he carried her up to bed, left her in charge +of the under-nurse, and himself went out with one or two +gardeners to see if he could hear news of the motor-party. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia, though in bed, could not sleep. She lay listening, +listening for a sound in the silent house, until the +dawn began to break. Then she heard wheels—wheels +and voices on the gravel of the drive; and, slipping from +her bed, without arousing the fast-sleeping nursemaid or +Tony, she ran downstairs in her white nightie. +</P> + +<P> +All her life she would remember Brand's face as he +strode into the hall and laid down upon a settle the burden +that he carried—Bernard, with his head all shrouded in +white linen. Then came a doctor, stern and tight-lipped, +with the moaning baby in his arms. Virginia could still +recall the carbolic smell of the doctor's clothes as he went +upstairs, the blueness of the baby's face in its waxen stillness, +and the silence punctuated by faint moans. +</P> + +<P> +The grim realities of life came then to the girl's consciousness +for the first time, never to leave her more. For +some years—until she went to the school at which she +met Miriam Rosenberg—she was grave and silent with a +gravity unbefitting her years, her fine health, her promising +future. After that she yielded to the spell of youth +and friendship and adventure, and the world had seemed +ever more alluring, until the final shock of her father's +loss. +</P> + +<P> +This hot afternoon, gazing down upon Pansy's pathetic +fragility, she thought what sorrows had been hers in the +twenty years of her short life. The future looked sadder +than usual, and her customary good cheer was temporarily +absent; she felt a curious depression, or sense of coming +trouble. +</P> + +<P> +"You look so grave, Virgie darling!" +</P> + +<P> +"Pansy, I'm a perfect pig. I believe I am suffering +from that horrible feeling we used to call 'after-the-party' +feeling." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't wonder," replied Pansy sagely. "It must be +pretty rotten to come back from all that fun and luxury +and money to start being maid of all work again. Oh, +Virgie, what are we to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do? Why, get on, of course—do our work and +enjoy it!" cried Virginia, springing up and going to the +window. "Oh, Pansy, the delphiniums! How this hot +weather has brought them out! There was not one in +bloom when I left." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought you'd be pleased with that!" cried the child +in eager delight. "And look at the roses too, Virgie—the +Hiawatha that you thought was dead!" +</P> + +<P> +"Darling Hiawatha! He came from home," whispered +Virginia. She knelt by the window, her elbows on +the sill and her curved chin resting on her hands, while +her Greuze eyes rested on the row of little garden plots, +on the farther row that abutted upon them, and on the +backs of the houses beyond those. She was young, it was +summer-time, and yet, and yet—— +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Pansy, "did Gerald send me his love or +anything?" +</P> + +<P> +Virginia started. Gerald at the moment filled her +thoughts. She had missed him when he went away—went +away without a word! She had not expected to miss +him so much. Yet, with the lack of perception of her +youth, she failed to connect her present formless dejection +with the thought of his departure. +</P> + +<P> +Pulling herself together with a determined effort, she +turned from the window, explained to Pansy the fact that +Gerald had been obliged to rush off to Liverpool for his +father, and thus had naturally not had time for any special +message or present. "But I have got something for +you, sweetums," she murmured caressingly. "You wait +until the outside porter condescends to deliver my boxes! +You only wait!" +</P> + +<P> +The colour flooded the cripple's transparent skin. +"Oh, Virgie, Virgie, what is it? Tell me what it is!" +</P> + +<P> +"We'll make it a guessing game," replied Virgie. "I +will just go and get on some old things, and we will play +it properly. Where's Tony, by the way?" +</P> + +<P> +"Gone with the eleven to play Balchurch. Did you +know they have made him twelfth man? He's awfully +bucked," said Pansy, with satisfaction. "I don't expect +he'll be back yet." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! Pansy! but how splendid! He's very young, +isn't he?" +</P> + +<P> +"Two years younger than the youngest man in the +eleven," announced Pansy, with satisfaction. "I'm +making him a tie in the school colours." She took up her +knitting with pride. +</P> + +<P> +A sound in the hall below struck Virginia's ear. +"There's mamma," she said; "I must go and greet her." +</P> + +<P> +Slipping out of the room, she descended the stairs, and +entering the tiny drawing-room on the right of the entrance +passage, stood face to face with Mrs. Mynors. +</P> + +<P> +It was hard to believe that these were mother and +daughter; they looked more like sisters. The elder +woman, in coquettish slight mourning, had the same face, +broad at the brow, tapering at the chin, the same long +lovely eyes, deep-lashed, the same poise of the head and +wavy golden-brown hair. A close observer alone would +mark differences. The elder woman's eyes were blue, like +forget-me-nots—the hard blue that looks so soft, that +never varies. Her daughter's were less easy to describe. +They were changeful as the sea, responsive to varying +skies; and just now, in the waning light, they seemed dark +grey. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, my chick, how are you? I was having tea with +the Simpsons and forgot the time, or I should have been +back before this. You are looking better for your change! +I'm glad I persuaded you to go, though we get on pretty +badly without you." Passing keen eyes over her daughter's +face she seated herself, slightly drawing up her skirt +with a motion which intimated that she expected to have +her shoes untied. +</P> + +<P> +Unhesitatingly Virginia knelt upon the ground and performed +this service. The little room in which they were +was a bower of luxury. In it were collected all the relics +of their vanished past which Mrs. Mynors had thought +herself unable to do without. Silver, miniatures, cushions, +foot-stools, a soft couch, an empire writing-table. +It was like the tiny boudoir of a rich woman. Its owner +cast a disgusted glance about her, as she remarked: +"Charwomen never will dust, will they?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I hoped you would have dusted this room yourself, +just while I was away," replied Virginia, with a sigh, +casting her housewifely eye upon the tarnished silver. +It was a room which would take a good hour a day to keep +in proper order. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Virgie, have you any news for me?" asked +Mrs. Mynors presently, in her voice of tantalising sweetness. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia raised her eyes, puzzled by something in the +voice. "News?" she answered wonderingly. "Nothing +very special. I told you most of it in my letters. The +flying yesterday was most interesting—quite worth staying +for." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors sat meditatively, while her daughter left +the room, went upstairs, found indoor shoes and brought +them down. She then carefully pulled the pins from the +becoming hat and removed it, her mother sitting in calm +acquiescence the while. Mrs. Mynors was uneasy. Her +reading between the lines in Virginia's innocent letters +had certainly led her to conclude that Gerald Rosenberg +meant to marry the girl. Had she herself made a fatal +mistake in sending that letter to Gerald's father before +the matter had been clinched? She had felt doubts, but +her dire need had driven her on. Now she was wondering +how to find words in which to convey to Virginia the +blow which had descended. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia always divided the money. Each quarter she +had apportioned to her mother the sum for the interest on +the mortgage. There had always been something else on +which that money must be spent. +</P> + +<P> +What would Virgie say when she knew that Lissendean +had gone, vanished; that they would never revisit it; that +Tony could never come into his inheritance? +</P> + +<P> +Far though she was from any feeling of self-blame, she +yet was conscious of discomfort as she looked at her daughter's +unsuspecting face. +</P> + +<P> +It was easy to decide not to spoil Virgie's first evening +at home by bad news. Leaving her daughter to carry her +hat, gloves and sunshade to the room above, she settled +herself luxuriously by the open window, with her feet up, +and plunged into temporary forgetfulness in the pages of +a very exciting novel. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile—the outside porter proving better than his +word—the trunk arrived and was unpacked. The enraptured +Pansy found herself mistress of a doll of almost +inconceivable beauty, with jointed limbs, and a body that +could be washed in real water. Mims had added a chest +of drawers, and various articles of costume. The dressing +and undressing of dolls had always been the little +cripple's one joy. And never had she hoped to possess +such a doll as this. +</P> + +<P> +Then Tony came home, hot and exultant, looking such +a fine boy in his flannels and blazer. His team had beaten +the other after a hard fight, during which, of course, the +umpire had given an l.b.w., grossly unfair and in favour +of the rival eleven. +</P> + +<P> +He received his own present very graciously—a curious +collection of oddments it seemed to the unlearned; but +he had marked what he wanted in a catalogue, and his +sister had obediently bought as directed. Contrite wheels, +eccentrics, female screws, and so on, were darkness to her +mind, but pure joy to the recipient. +</P> + +<P> +Her gift to her mother—a pair of really nice gloves—was +also accepted graciously, though with an absence of +enthusiasm which led Virginia to suspect that other things, +besides the winter coat, had been purchased that morning +at Baxter's sale. Who could have sent money to her +mother? She could think of nobody; for the men friends +who had hovered continually about Lissendean had never +penetrated to Laburnum Villa. Mamma, however, made +no confidence, and could not, of course, be questioned. +</P> + +<P> +It came to be time for Mrs. Brown to depart. Mamma +had no silver, and asked Virgie to pay her off. The +young housekeeper then felt at liberty to go and survey +her kitchen premises, and to heave deep sighs at the sight +of so many dirty pots and pans, and the inevitable brown +patch burnt upon the enamel of her favourite milk-saucepan. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE TWO VIRGINIAS +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>But hadst thou—Oh, with that same perfect face,<BR> + And perfect eyes, and more than perfect mouth,<BR> + And that same voice my soul hears, as a bird<BR> + The fowler's note, and follows to the snare!—<BR> + Hadst thou, with these the same, but brought a mind!</i>"<BR> + —<SPAN CLASS="scap">R. Browning.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Nobody who saw Virginia next morning, in her blue +linen overall, bringing up her mother's early morning tea, +would have recognised the dainty flower of luxury who +had moved over the polished floors of the galleries of +Hertford House. She put the tray beside the bed, drew +back the curtains, and brought in the hot water, just as a +housemaid might have done. Mrs. Mynors, rosy and +beautiful among her pillows, rubbed her sleepy eyes, and +murmured "Thank you, dear one!" in a perfunctory +manner, stretching her white arms luxuriously, and adding +fretfully: "Another grilling day!" +</P> + +<P> +Virginia returned no answer to this comment, but withdrew +to the kitchen, where Tony sat munching his fried +bread and bacon and drinking his coffee with a schoolboy's +appetite. When he had been despatched, clean and ready +for his day's work, there was Pansy's breakfast to be +thought of. Dainty toast, fresh tea, a spoonful of jam, +were arranged on a pretty tray and carried upstairs. Then +Virginia was at leisure to sit down for a few minutes, drink +what was left of the coffee in Tony's pot, and eat some +bread-and-butter. In truth she had little appetite. The +heat sapped her strength, and she reflected sadly that it +was a mistake to go away. +</P> + +<P> +A holiday made it harder to begin again. +</P> + +<P> +From the moment of finishing her breakfast till the moment +of laying lunch, she never ceased from her labours. +The kitchen had to be thoroughly scrubbed before its dainty +mistress could be friends with it again. Then there were +beds to make, a room to sweep, three rooms to dust. Then +her mother came down, drank a cup of Bovril, and settled +herself in the garden with some embroidery, while Virginia +went up to make her bed and do her room. +</P> + +<P> +When lunch had been cleared and washed up, the +drudge had an hour's breathing space. She spent it lying +upon the bed in Pansy's room, the little cripple having +been moved as usual to her invalid couch by the window. +Virginia was so tired that she herself felt alarmed. +What was to become of them all if her health were to give +way? The thought was too horrible to be dwelt upon. +</P> + +<P> +Her mother, remarking the depression of her spirits, +was vexed. She could not help wishing that Virginia +were not quite such a simpleton. If she had had an +ounce of the coquette in her, she could have secured +Gerald Rosenberg, and all would have been well. Mrs. +Mynors had refrained from any kind of hint when the +girl went to London in response to Miriam's urgent invitation. +She thought her hint might defeat itself. Now +she was wondering whether, in view of her daughter's +obtuseness, she would not have done well to let her know +what was expected of her. She could see that the girl +was out of heart, and she shrank, partly from cowardice, +partly from affection, from dealing the final blow. Yes, +her utter selfishness notwithstanding, Mrs. Mynors had +some affection for Virginia. She misunderstood the girl, +and undervalued her; she accepted all her burnt offerings +and sacrifices as manifestly her own due; yet she trusted +and leaned upon her with all the weight of her own empty +egotism. +</P> + +<P> +Next morning, when the little figure in its blue overall +brought in the tea, there was a business-like letter lying +upon the tray. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors did not open it until she had enjoyed +her tea, for it was from the solicitors who had foreclosed +the mortgage, and well she knew that it was not likely to +contain anything that would please her. +</P> + +<P> +She lay for some time—after she had eaten and drunk—glancing +at the morning paper, and trying to determine +to face the necessary unpleasantness. At last, heaving +a sigh of boundless self-pity, she took the envelope in her +pretty white hands and opened it. +</P> + +<P> +As she read a sudden flush mounted to her very brow. +A smothered exclamation broke from her. She was +seized with trembling, her heart beat suffocatingly, and +with a bound she sprang from bed, rushed to her mirror, +and stood there, surveying with sparkling eyes the image +of Virginia Mynors at the age of forty-one. +</P> + +<P> +Oh, did the mirror lie, or was it true that she was +very nearly as pretty as ever? Hardly a silver thread +in the beautiful ripe gold hair that had no slightest hint +of red in it! The teeth still perfect within the pretty lips, +barely discernible crows' feet at the corners of the brilliant, +expressive eyes! Plumper she was no doubt, but to be +plump prevents wrinkles. As she stood there, even in her +disarray, she knew that she did not deceive herself. She +was still a most attractive woman. +</P> + +<P> +... And fate had sent her a chance like this! With +pulses racing she crept back to her bed and curled up +there, trying to decide how best to take advantage of this +marvellous coincidence, this strange turn of fortune's +wheel. What a good thing that she was a woman of experience, +no longer a shy girl. She must not lose this +chance, as silly Virginia had lost hers! No, no! She +was too clever for that. How well the French wit had +said: "<i>Si la jeunesse savait! Si la vieillesse pouvait!</i>" +</P> + +<P> +In herself, the two states of youth and age were met +felicitously. She was old enough to know, young enough +to enjoy! If she could not now take hold on circumstance, +and wrest her defeat into pure victory, then she +was no better than a fool—and she had never thought +herself that. +</P> + +<P> +All the time she was dressing her lips would part in a +smile that revealed those pretty teeth, and a dimple which +still lurked in a fold of her smooth cheek. She passed her +own plans in review before her mind, pondering—pondering +as to how much she would have to tell Virgie. Her +excitement was so great that she felt sure she would have +to tell most of it. Thrills of anticipation coursed most +agreeably through her being. How had she been able to +bear it so far—this crushing, stifling existence in an +odious little box in a horrid third-rate town? How patient +she had been! What a martyrdom she had borne! For +the children it was of course different. For her it had +been a living burial. Now that it was over—now that +she saw a shining gateway admitting her back to the world +she loved so well, it seemed incredible that she could have +stood it so long. +</P> + +<P> +... What would Virgie say now—Virgie, who was +always so mean and stingy, reproving her for gratifying +even the simplest taste, expecting her to live as though she +had been brought up in one of the cottages on her husband's +estate? She pictured the rapture of gratitude and devotion +with which the girl would realise that her mother's +charm, her mother's ability to hold a man's affection for +twenty years and more, was to mend the family fortunes. +She faced—only to disregard it—the fact that Virginia +would have some ridiculous scruples about her father's +memory. She recollected very soon that, for Pansy's sake, +the girl would welcome any way out—Pansy, whose lameness +might be cured, if she could only have the required +advice and treatment. +</P> + +<P> +She sat before her glass in a dream of reminiscence. +</P> + +<P> +There was a tap at the door, and her daughter entered, +soft-footed, carrying a cup on a tray. "I've brought your +cold beef-tea jelly, dearest, as it is such a hot day," said +she, putting it down. "Would you like me to do your +hair for you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, my chick, if you only would! I feel quite over-strained! +I have had such extraordinary—such heart-searching +news! I very nearly fainted when I was having +my bath." +</P> + +<P> +Virginia turned pale. The remembrance of Pansy's +revelation concerning their "rewend" condition leapt to +her mind. She had now been home three days, and her +mother had said nothing of it, but seemed flush of cash. +Virginia had consulted the cheque-book—nothing out of +the way there. The money spent on house-keeping had +been, as she expected, too large, but not out of all bounds. +</P> + +<P> +Something had stolen Virginia's buoyancy. She felt +an inward flinching, as though she could not bear a fresh +blow. It must be the heat. She took up a silver brush, +and said, as stoutly as she could: +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Mums, tell me all about it. I can bear it." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors pushed aside her golden tresses, opened a +small drawer, searched it, and drew out the solicitor's +letter. +</P> + +<P> +"Virgie, I could not tell you the very day you came +home," she faltered. "It would have been brutal, but I +suppose you must know." +</P> + +<P> +Her daughter, taking the legal-looking documents in +her suddenly cold hands, sank rather than seated herself +upon a chair, for the humiliating reason that she felt +unable to stand. +</P> + +<P> +There was stillness for a while in the tiny room, which, +like the drawing-room downstairs, was a bower of luxury. +Carpet, curtains, furniture, plenishings—all were costly +relics of bygone days, something to make a pillow between +the dainty head of its mistress and the hard cold boards +of poverty. Even as she cleaned the silver toilet articles +yesterday, Virgie had noted a fresh bottle of a particularly +expensive perfume affected by her mother. +</P> + +<P> +Now she read the letters—read the family doom. +</P> + +<P> +All gone! Everything! Lissendean!... +</P> + +<P> +She put her hands to her head. She must think. +</P> + +<P> +What was left? +</P> + +<P> +Nothing! They were paupers. Tony must leave +school and begin to be an errand boy. She, Virginia, must +go into service. Pansy must be got into a home for +cripples! Her mother?... +</P> + +<P> +... And she had gone without the necessities of life +to keep up those payments, while Mrs. Mynors was squandering +the money on petty luxuries! +</P> + +<P> +For the moment passion surged up so strongly in Virginia +that she had to clench her hands and grind her teeth, +while she shook with the effort to refrain from telling the +pretty, golden-haired doll once for all what she thought +of her. This mother, whom she had loved, whom dad had +loved! Almost his last words had been a plea to his +daughter not to let her mother suffer if she could help it. +</P> + +<P> +Had she not done her best? What more could have been +required of her that she had not given? She had sacrificed +her whole life to the service of her loved ones, had drudged +and toiled that her mother might have ease, had listened +to her grumbling complaints, had humoured her wilfulness. +Yet all had been in vain. In vain! +</P> + +<P> +To her mother's consternation, and even annoyance, +Virginia slipped off her chair in a dead faint. +</P> + +<P> +With a sense of acute injury at being called upon to +render such service, the plump, useless hands succeeded in +lowering the girl to the floor. Then, still resentful, Mrs. +Mynors actually got a wet sponge and laid it on her daughter's +forehead. This not succeeding, she found <i>eau-de-Cologne</i> +and applied that. After a time Virginia slowly +returned to life, and to a knowledge of the enormity of her +behaviour. She dragged herself to her mother's bed, and +lay down there until her swimming senses should readjust +themselves. +</P> + +<P> +They were ruined; and her mother was buying winter +coats and bottles of perfume! It was really laughable. +</P> + +<P> +"You cannot reproach me, really, Virgie," said her +mother presently, speaking with sad submissiveness from +out her cloud of hair. "You must see that I could not +help spending that money, and also that I never dreamed +what would be the result of getting behindhand with my +payments. Our own lawyer ought to have warned me. +I consider him much to blame in the matter." +</P> + +<P> +Virginia had nothing at all to say. +</P> + +<P> +"I can see that you do blame me!" sharply cried Mrs. +Mynors. "You lie there without a word of comfort—as +if I had ruined you and not myself too! I suppose it is +as hard for me as for you." +</P> + +<P> +Virgie turned her face over and hid it on the pillow. +</P> + +<P> +After gazing at her for some time, in a mood which +accusing conscience made bitter, Mrs. Mynors decided to +play her trump card. +</P> + +<P> +"You need not put on all these airs of tragic despair, +Virgie. I have told you the bad news first. This morning +I have had other news—the most extraordinary thing—the +most unlikely coincidence—that you ever heard! +Do you want me to tell you about it, or are you too ill to +pay any attention?" +</P> + +<P> +Virgie made an effort and sat up. "I'm so sorry, +mother. It was very sudden, you know, and it is all so +horrible—like falling over a precipice. I felt as if I +could not grasp it. I am better now." +</P> + +<P> +She slipped off the bed and tottered to the window, +leaning out into the air. "Please tell me—everything," +she begged. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors leaned forward, and a little, mischievous +smile showed her dimple, as she said, playing nervously +with the articles in her manicure set: "Did you ever hear +me speak of the man I was once engaged to—the man I +jilted to marry your father—Mr. Gaunt?" +</P> + +<P> +"I believe I have," replied Virginia, knitting her brows. +</P> + +<P> +"It was a tiresome affair," went on the lady, with a +sigh. "He was very young and impetuous; perhaps that +is putting it too mildly; he had a shocking temper, and +he didn't take his jilting at all peaceably. I know I was +in fault, but what is a girl to do? He was a mere boy. +When I promised to marry him I had never seen your +father; and you know, Virgie darling, how irresistible he +was." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. I know," said Virginia, telling herself that, +after all, her mother must have loved the dead man better +than had appeared. Yet why, if she loved him so much, +had there always been so many others? Virginia recalled +the familiar figures—Colonel Duke, and Major Gibson, +the M.F.H., and Sir Edmund Hobbs. Certainly, for the +last two years of his life Bernard Mynors had been unable +to escort his wife himself. If she hunted, it must be with +others. It had, in fact, been with others. +</P> + +<P> +The dainty lips curved into a yet broader smile. "Poor +Gaunt! It seems that he has never married," went on the +musical voice. "He was too madly in love, I suppose, +for any transfer of his affections to be possible. But the +point of it all is this. I have this morning heard that it +is he who holds the mortgage on our property. Lissendean +belongs to him!" +</P> + +<P> +Virginia's big, woful eyes opened very wide. +</P> + +<P> +"I heard this morning from the lawyers that he is in +London for a week or two, and wants to get the business +finished off. I have made my little plan. I mean to go +up to town and see him, Virgie." +</P> + +<P> +The words brought Virginia to her feet. "To go and +see him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. I must, for my children's sake, make an appeal +to his kindness of heart. The pain I caused him must +long ago have been forgotten, and if I can only procure an +interview with him, I feel very little doubt of being able +to persuade him to allow us more time." +</P> + +<P> +Virginia considered. "Do you think he will see you? +It might be very painful for him. Have you heard nothing +of him since your marriage?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing. He lives in the country now, it seems. He +must have inherited the place that belonged to his old +great-aunts. He always used to tell me that there was not +much chance of his coming into it. He was a fine fellow +in his way, only difficult—so jealous, for one thing. +However, it would be most interesting to meet him. I +wonder"—coquettishly—"if he will know me again. I +don't fancy that I have changed much." +</P> + +<P> +"Very little, I should think," said Virgie; "the +miniature that father had done of you the first year you +were married is still just like you." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors smiled brightly. She was beginning to +recover her good humour. "Unless he has altered +strangely, he will not be cruel to the widow and the +fatherless," she murmured pensively. "Cheer up, Virgie, +all is not yet lost. Try to be a little hopeful, dear +child." +</P> + +<P> +Virginia sat, twisting her hands together, turning the +matter over in her mind. Her mother's creditor was her +mother's old lover. Her mother was going to seize this +fact, and make the most of it. Something in Virginia +revolted from the idea; but she could not urge her objections. +She fixed her purple-grey eyes upon the gay face in +the mirror. It might have been that of a woman without +a care. Every instinct in her mother was kindled at the +idea of once more encountering, and most probably conquering, +what had been hers once, and would turn to her +again. +</P> + +<P> +A step-father! That was an idea to make one wince. +With all the ingrained fidelity of her simple nature, the +girl hated the thought. Yet, after all, what was the +alternative? +</P> + +<P> +She felt that the family fortunes had passed beyond her +own power to adjust or alter. As long as a foothold of +dry ground remained she had, as it were, protected these +dear ones from the raging flood. Now that the tide had +swept them away, and they were all tossing on the waters, +could she object to her mother's seizing a rope—any +rope—that might be flung to them? +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose he knows," she said, after a long pause, "he +knows that it is you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose so. These coincidences are very curious. +I have never seen him, never even heard of him, since our +rupture." She reflected, her chin on her hand. "Strange +that he should have inherited money," she observed. "He +was not at all well off when I knew him, though he was +very ambitious. He wrote—essays and so on for the +Press. He was certainly clever. Twenty-two years since +I last saw him! How strange it seems! I used to be +afraid at first that he might try to kill me or your father. +He was so violent. At our wedding we had special police +arrangements. But nothing happened. Nothing at all." +She spoke as if the fact were slightly disappointing. +</P> + +<P> +"It is a chance," sighed out Virginia at length. "If +you can bear it, mother—if it is not asking too much of +you to go and beg a favour from a man you once treated +badly, then I think you had better try." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors' mouth drooped at the corners, and her +face took on the sweetest look of resignation. "Virgie, +dearest, you can fancy—you can understand something +of what it will cost me. But for my children's sakes I +must put my own feelings aside. I must go and see what +I can do. Let me see! Where—how could I meet him? +A solicitor's office does not lend itself. Oh, Virgie, I have +it! What a comfort, what a piece of good luck, that I +became a life-member of the 'Sportswoman' three years +ago! I will ask him to meet me there! I will write a +note, to be given to him direct; and I don't think he will +refuse. If he does, I will just go to London and take him +by storm. I vow I'll see him somehow! Leave it to me, +Virgie! You shall see what I can do. When my children's +bread is at stake, no effort shall be too great, no +sacrifice too difficult." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Later on, when Virginia had done her hair to perfection, +and gone away to do the house-work, Mrs. Mynors +took a chair, mounted it, and unlocked a small drawer at +the top of her tall-boy. There were several bundles of +letters and papers in the drawer, and a small jewel-case +containing a ring. She searched among the papers for +one loose envelope, addressed in a forcible, small but not +cramped handwriting. +</P> + +<P> +She sat down, with this letter and the ring-box upon her +knee, and read: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>You make a mistake. It is not the transfer of your +affections from myself to Mynors of which I complain, +for this has not taken place. What has happened is +simply that you have bartered yourself for his money and +position. If I had been cursed with a few hundreds a +year more than he has, you would not have forsaken me. +You never loved me; but for a whole year you have succeeded +in deceiving me—in making me believe that you +did. This is the thing I find unpardonable. Men have +killed women for such treachery as yours. Were I to kill +you, it would save poor Mynors a good many years of +misery. But the code of civilised morals forbids so satisfactory +a solution. You must live, and destroy his illusions +one by one. I ought to thank you for my freedom, +but that I cannot do, being human. As a man in worse +plight than mine once said: "My love hath wrought into +my life so far that my doom is, I love thee still." There +lies the humiliation and the sting.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The woman's lips curved into a smile of foreseen +triumph. The insult of the first part of the letter was +nothing to her. There was his written confession. In +spite of her betrayal, he loved her still. +</P> + +<P> +After the lapse of all these years the lava-torrent of his +boyish fury had no doubt cooled. The love might well +remain. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE OLD LOVE +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>Now hate rules a heart which in love's easy chains<BR> + Once passion's tumultuous blandishments knew;<BR> + Despair now inflames the dark tide of his veins,<BR> + He ponders in frenzy o'er love's last adieu.</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Byron.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +A week later Mrs. Mynors stood before her mirror at a +much earlier hour than was her wont. She was arranging +her veil with a hand that shook, and eyes full of a curious +mixture of anxiety and triumph. The anxiety was because +she was bound upon an errand of enormous strategic +importance; the triumph because her imagination ran on +ahead and pictured things that she would have blushed to +own. +</P> + +<P> +Her old lover had assented to her proposal for a meeting. +He was to be this morning at twelve o'clock at the Sportswoman—that +smartest and most go-ahead of county +ladies' clubs in London. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia stood near. She held in her hand a dainty +handbag, embroidered in steel beads and lined with pale +violet. Into this she was putting a purse, a powder-puff, +a wisp of old lace that was supposed to be a handkerchief, +and so on. The aroma of the expensive perfume was over +everything. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors' costume was a subtle scheme of faint half-mourning. +It was most becoming. +</P> + +<P> +"What time do you think you shall be back?" asked +Virginia. +</P> + +<P> +"My child, how can I say? You must expect me when +you see me. It depends so much upon what I accomplish. +If Osbert Gaunt proves disagreeable, I must just get a +bit of lunch at the club and come straight home. If he is +hospitably inclined, why, you see, it might be later." +</P> + +<P> +"I only wanted to know how much money you are likely +to spend." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't trouble about that, dear one. I have plenty +of money for my modest needs." +</P> + +<P> +She stepped back, surveyed the general effect of her +appearance, and sighed a little. Then, opening one of the +small jewel drawers in her toilet table, she took out a ring-case, +extracted the ring it contained, and slipped it upon +her finger. It was a large tourmalin, set in small brilliants—a +lovely blue, like the eyes of its wearer. +</P> + +<P> +"What a pretty ring! I never saw it before," said +Virginia, with interest. She loved pretty things. That +trait she had inherited from her mother. +</P> + +<P> +"His engagement ring," said the widow pensively. +"He would not take it back. He said it would bring a +curse upon any woman who wore it. He shall see that I +have kept it." +</P> + +<P> +Virginia's heart surged up within her until she almost +broke into weeping. Her own mother, the widow of +Bernard Mynors, the widow of the most-beloved, the dearest, +the best, the handsomest—she was setting out gaily +to fascinate an old lover, wearing on her finger the ring he +had bestowed in the days when she had never seen her husband. +</P> + +<P> +"How she can!" thought Virgie to herself. Her +mother was a continual puzzle to her. In her intense +simplicity the girl took her usually at her own value. She +believed devoutly that it was at great personal cost that +Mrs. Mynors was going to town that day. She judged +her feelings by her own. And yet, and yet—— +</P> + +<P> +The sound of wheels on the road outside caused her to +look from the window. "Why, here is an empty fly +stopping at the door," said she in a tone of surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"I ordered it, Virgie," replied her mother, a little embarrassed. +"I have so little strength, especially of a +morning, I felt that, on an errand like this, I should want +all my force, all my coolness. This heat is so unnerving." +</P> + +<P> +She smiled deprecatingly. "My poor little fly is the +sprat to catch a whale," she laughed. Then impetuously +she flung her arms about her daughter's neck. "Wish me +luck! Oh, wish me luck!" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia's warm heart leapt at the cry. She embraced +her mother with all the fervour she dare employ without +crushing the delicate toilette. They went downstairs +together, the lady stepped into the shabby fly with a look +of disdainful fortitude, her sunshade was given her, and +with a wave of the hand to the girl at the gate she started +off upon her great mission. Virgie went slowly into the +kitchen, sat down wearily, and poured out her tepid tea. +After eating and drinking a few mouthfuls listlessly, she +roused herself to prepare fresh tea for Pansy and to carry +her breakfast upstairs. +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning, precious! How have you slept?" she +cried cheerily, as she set down the tray, drew up the blind, +and came to the bedside. Pansy lay there smiling, perfectly +flat on her back, with Ermyntrude, the new doll, at +her side. +</P> + +<P> +"Slept booful. Not one pain all night. But I'm fearfully +hungry, Virgie!" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't wonder; I am dreadfully late! I had to get +mother off, you see. She has just started," replied Virginia, +trying to keep the sorrow out of her trembling voice. +She stooped, touched a handle below the bed, and with +incredible care and delicacy wound the little cripple up +into a posture just enough tilted to enable her to feed +herself. +</P> + +<P> +"Gone to see a gentleman she used to know before +she knew dad," remarked Pansy, pondering. "He'll +think she's every bit as pretty as she was then. Don't you +think so?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I am sure he must think so." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Virgie!"—after a long pause—"suppose he was +to ask her again?" +</P> + +<P> +Her sister winced as this dark idea was thus frankly +expressed in words. She had, however, been more or less +prepared for it. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think it very likely, Pansy," she replied slowly, +"but if he did, and if mother thought it was her duty to +say 'Yes,' we must not make it hard for her." +</P> + +<P> +"How could it be her duty to say 'Yes'?" demanded +Pansy argumentatively. "She loved dad, and it would be +beastly to have a step-father." +</P> + +<P> +"It would be beastlier still not have enough to eat," +was the thought in Virgie's heart. She did not express it, +however. The child knew nothing of the terrible state of +things, and must not know unless it was inevitable. +"We'll hope for the best, darling. He may not ask her," +she softly told the child. "And now eat your breakfast, +while I go and clear away downstairs." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +From Euston one must positively take a taxi in order +to arrive at Dover Street. Mrs. Mynors instructed the +driver to throw back the hood; and reclined, her sunshade +between her delicate face and the June sun, enjoying a +few minutes of the kind of pleasure in which she revelled. +</P> + +<P> +Ah! the joy of it. The gay streets, the well-dressed +crowds, the enticing shops, the loaded flower-baskets, at the +street corners, the window-boxes in the tall houses, the +flashing cars, the bustle and movement of London in +the season. Here, she felt, was her native element. To +this she belonged—she whom a cruel fate had treated so +ill as to cause the whole structure of her pleasure to +crumble to nothing at the very time of life when a woman +begins to feel that she needs comforts and luxury. +</P> + +<P> +For forty years she had enjoyed that empire which any +beautiful woman may enjoy if she chooses. Her beauty +had prevented every one who came near her from realising +the truth about her. Had you told her that she was a +monster of selfishness, that she had never loved anybody +but herself, that she had jilted a poor man to marry a rich +one, and that she had loved neither the one nor the other, +she would simply have wondered how your mind could +have become so warped as to cause you to utter such +slanders. +</P> + +<P> +Now that she had the twofold weapons of beauty and +misfortune, surely none could resist. +</P> + +<P> +Not for long years had her heart so throbbed, her blood +run so swiftly, as this morning, as the taxi turned out of +Bond Street, slid along Grafton Street into Dover Street, +and stopped at the doors of the club. +</P> + +<P> +Since her husband's death she had never entered it. +Now she wondered how she had kept away so long, and +admired with fervour her own Spartan heroism. How +meekly she had bowed under undeserved adversity! +</P> + +<P> +She strolled into the dressing-room, put down her sun-shade, +and contemplated herself in a mirror. The things +she had seen in the shops that morning, and the costumes +in the streets, had put her somewhat out of conceit of her +own appearance. The mirror, however, restored all her +self-confidence. She was looking lovely, with a bloom in +her cheeks that the fagged-looking London women could +not hope to emulate. +</P> + +<P> +She used her powder with judgment and restraint, adjusted +her veil, and went out into the hall. +</P> + +<P> +"I am going into the chintz parlour," said she to the +page-boy, "and I am expecting a gentleman by appointment. +Bring him to me there—Mrs. Mynors." +</P> + +<P> +She went upstairs, outwardly quite tranquil, though +inwardly she was shaken with a storm of excitement which +she could not wholly understand. In old days she had +feared Osbert Gaunt. She remembered that, though she +did not own it to herself. Devoted slave as he had been, +she had had perhaps some faint instinctive premonition +that he was in reality her master. He had been subject to +bursts of passion, to fits of sullen rage. It had been exciting, +but exhausting, to be loved by him. +</P> + +<P> +All that was twenty years ago. What was he now? +</P> + +<P> +She surveyed the pretty little parlour, furnished in a +clever imitation of the Georgian era. From among the +chairs she selected two. Then, changing her mind, she +chose a small couch, with room for two to sit upon it. She +brought forward a little table, put some magazines upon it, +opened one and became so absorbed in the sketch of a +Paris gown which it contained that she started annoyingly +at the voice of the page-boy announcing her visitor. +</P> + +<P> +Osbert Gaunt walked in. Her first thought was that, +changed though he was, she should have known him anywhere. +Certainly his was a personality not easy to forget. +He was dark complexioned by nature, and, as he lived in +the open air, he was also much tanned. His coal-black +hair was slightly softened with grey at the temples, but his +moustache was raven black, and it altered his appearance +to something curiously unlike her memory of the keen +young boyish face. He walked with the limp which she +remembered well, and as they shook hands his glance swept +over her from head to foot, appraising and, as it seemed, +condemning, for his lip curled into a sneer. +</P> + +<P> +He was perfectly self-possessed. The lady was genuinely +agitated. +</P> + +<P> +"I trust that I am punctual to your appointment, +madam," he said drily. +</P> + +<P> +They were alone in the room. She noticed that with +thankfulness, even while she realised how entirely the man +had the advantage over her. To her, this interview meant +everything. To him, apparently, very little. She was so +much affected that she sat down at once, making a little +appealing movement with her hand that he should sit beside +her, as she murmured: "Oh, Osbert, you are good to +come ... and you are so little changed." +</P> + +<P> +He replied, with indifference that amounted to discourtesy: +"I came to suit my own convenience; and I +have changed completely." +</P> + +<P> +With this preliminary amenity he looked around, chose +a chair, brought it forward, and sat down facing her. His +rudeness was so disconcerting that she forgot her part, and +spoke confusedly: +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, indeed, you have not changed; you always +used to contradict. That was part of your temperament." +</P> + +<P> +"Pardon me, I am not here to discuss my temperament. +I have come on business." +</P> + +<P> +She made a little deprecating sound, as though he had +hurt her. "Oh, Osbert, this is dreadful! Dreadful! If +I had expected this, I would not have appealed to you. +How could I dream that you would have remained unforgiving +all these years?" +</P> + +<P> +She drew out the tiny handkerchief, redolent of lily of +the valley. In old days a tear from her had driven him +mad. +</P> + +<P> +"You surprise me," was his answer. "I understood +that you desired to discuss a mortgage. If you will allow +me to say so, I must confess that any allusion from you +to our past relations seems to me to be in the worst of +taste." +</P> + +<P> +"Osbert! Oh, Osbert! That you can speak so to me! +It is useless—quite useless to go farther. Had I been +rich and prosperous, I could understand your desire to +taunt me.... I never could have believed that you would +stoop to it when you know quite well the straits to which +we are reduced—that I and mine are starving!" +</P> + +<P> +Again his look swept over her, as if mocking at her general +aspect of subdued luxury. +</P> + +<P> +"Madam, it seems to me that the unfortunate tradesmen +whom you employ are more likely to starve than you are," +he said emphatically. "But, as regards your financial +position, that is, I suppose, part of the subject which we +are here to discuss. I gather that my foreclosing of this +mortgage embarrasses you seriously?" +</P> + +<P> +She kept her face turned from him, allowing one crystal +tear to lie undried upon her soft cheek, as she answered in +low, grief-broken tones: +</P> + +<P> +"We were almost beggars before. This is the final +straw." +</P> + +<P> +He took the chance she gave him to look full at her. +Her aspect of humiliation and discouragement seemed to +please him. +</P> + +<P> +"Good!" said he. "Then we come to something definite. +What do you suggest that I should do in this matter? +I am a little puzzled, because you cannot, I think, +have supposed that I should be likely to strain any point +in your favour—rather perhaps the reverse. Eh?" +</P> + +<P> +She paused, as it were for breath. What could she do? +She had thought of him in many ways, but had foreseen +nothing like this. Even her impervious vanity was forced +to the conclusion that the sight of her in her scarcely impaired +beauty moved him no more than if she had been +a hairdresser's block. Not even the ashes of passion +remained. He was pleased that she should be humiliated. +He liked to have her at his feet. Oh, why had she not +guessed that a nature like his—warped, distorted, +embittered—would rejoice at seeing the woman who had +injured him brought low? His foot was on her neck! +She felt inclined to spring up and rush from the room—or +to snatch his hands and make some wild appeal! Why, +this was the man who had trembled at her touch—who +had thrashed the son of a peer for saying that she was a +flirt! This was the man who had been made happy with +a smile, desperate with a frown. Yet now.... +</P> + +<P> +In fierce longing to bring him once more into subjection, +she stifled down her resentment, resisted her impulse to +give way. As his insulting words stung her, she winced, +like one enduring an unworthy blow. +</P> + +<P> +"I made a mistake," said she in low tones. "I must +own it. I actually did, as you suggest, hope that you +would strain a point in my favour. All that I remember +of you is noble. I fancied that the fact—which I admit—that +I once injured you, so far from being against me, +would constrain you the more to serve me, if you could." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed! So that was what you thought! It was +rather clever of you, but not quite clever enough. I have +to own that I don't at all consider that your having successfully +hoodwinked me twenty years ago gives you a right +to do it again. But let that pass. It is the mortgage +which we must keep in mind. I think it not impossible +that we may come to terms, that I may be able to afford +you some relief—on conditions"—he held up his hand +hastily as she turned impulsively on her seat—"on conditions, +I say—you had better wait to hear me." +</P> + +<P> +For the first time she let her eyes meet his. The +cruelty, the ironic sense of mastery conveyed to her from +beneath those half-shut lids, made her shudder involuntarily. +So might an Inquisitor survey the victim brought +bound into his presence. Still she kept up the pose—the +only one that occurred to her scared wits—the pose of +relying upon his nobility. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew—I knew you could not mean to be merciless," +she faltered. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't go too fast," he replied coldly. "There is much +to consider before thanks can appropriately be offered. +In the first place, a few questions are necessary. To begin. +Have you a daughter bearing a remarkable resemblance to +yourself? And was she in London a week or two ago with +some friends who have a motor-car—a young man and a +young woman?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors sat a moment speechless, considering this +new turn of the incredible conversation. "Yes," she faltered +at last, "that is quite true. Virginia was in town +with our friends, the Rosenbergs." +</P> + +<P> +His lip curled. "<i>Virginia!</i> You named her after +yourself!" +</P> + +<P> +"It was my husband's wish," she stammered. "She +is the dearest, the best girl in the world!" +</P> + +<P> +"Madam"—with mock reverence—"that is an unnecessary +statement; she is your daughter—and she is, I +feel sure, in all respects worthy of you. I saw her in a +picture-gallery not long ago. Interested by the astonishing +likeness, I took pains to overhear some of her conversation. +The second Virginia is a replica of the first—which +is saying a great deal. You are attached to her, +madam." +</P> + +<P> +"Attached to her? Attached to my darling daughter? +Are you mad, Osbert?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think so. I am still a bachelor, you know, and +the proposal which I put before you is this: If your daughter +will undertake the position which her mother declined, +we will cry quits, you and I." +</P> + +<P> +She had almost screamed in the extremity of her surprise +and mortification. Had he struck her with a horsewhip +she could not have felt more outraged. Fury, +resentment, a wild, combative resistance which she could +not recognise as jealousy, deprived her for a while of +speech. She was choking, inarticulate with the force of +blind feeling which shook her as a tempest shakes a tree. +</P> + +<P> +"You are atrocious!" she ejaculated at last. "Simply +atrocious! What can you mean? Virgie won't have +you." +</P> + +<P> +"In that case there will be no need of further discussion," +was his answer. "In your place, I think I should +at least place the offer before her. Should she accept it, I +will make you an allowance of three hundred pounds a +year for life, besides undertaking the cost of your son's +education. Are there other children?" +</P> + +<P> +She was staring at him as one may gaze, fascinated, +upon a cobra about to strike. "One other," she hurriedly +replied. "A little girl—<i>she is lame</i>." +</P> + +<P> +"Ha!" A dull flush rose to his face. "Cripples seem +to haunt your footsteps. Well—in the event of the +acceptance of my offer, it shall be my care to see that she +has the proper treatment and the best advice." +</P> + +<P> +"Good gracious me!" slowly said the bewildered +woman. "Am I dreaming? Osbert, you <i>must</i> be mad!" +</P> + +<P> +"Madam, I think you will find that I am considered +remarkably sane by most people. Anyway, you have my +offer—make what you can of it. I will put it in writing, +if you like. Your daughter won't find many husbands +who would be willing to marry and provide for the entire +family. Yet, you see, such is my devotion, that I am +ready to do even this for her charming sake." +</P> + +<P> +"Devotion? You have no devotion!" she cried wildly. +"You are taking advantage of my helplessness to torture +me! You would torture Virgie! How can you feel any +devotion for a girl you have only set eyes upon once?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we will say it is not devotion that inspires me, +but a desire to get a bit of my own back," said he, with a +most unpleasant smile. "She will be the Andromeda, +sacrificed for the rest of you—offered to the Beast—myself. +You flinched from such a fate. If she now undertakes +to brave it, will not that be poetic justice?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors swallowed once or twice, blinked, tried to +visualise the impression this speech gave. Since his +entrance, nothing that Gaunt said had sounded real. +There had been a sarcasm, a jeering cadence; he had been +playing with her all the time. But these words had a different +ring. He was in earnest. It seemed as if the last +sentence revealed to her something of his inner state of +mind. It was like coming, in the dusk, upon the sudden +mouth of a black pit. She had said, "You would torture +Virginia!" and something in his reply suggested that her +random words were true. +</P> + +<P> +She sat staring, confronting the set mask of his face. +The old fear of him came back, after twenty years, racing +up across the vistas of memory as the Brittany tide races +over the St. Malo sands. In this man there was something +perverted, something evil, something with which she +must hold no traffic, make no bargain. She knew that she +ought to end this preposterous interview; to speak a few +dignified reproachful words and leave the tempter and his +monstrous proposal. +</P> + +<P> +"Virginia," she managed at last to say, "shall never +even know of your horrible suggestion." +</P> + +<P> +He took his watch from his pocket, glanced at it, replaced +it, and spoke. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you reject this offer unconditionally?" +</P> + +<P> +"As you foresaw that I should!" she cried, with a +burst of tears hastily choked back. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, pardon me, I foresaw nothing of the kind. You +forget that in old times I knew you rather well; and I +never thought you a fool." +</P> + +<P> +"But you are impossible—outrageous!" she expostulated. +"Why should you want to marry Virginia?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am old enough to know my own mind, I suppose. +My reasons—pardon me—are not your concern. My +terms are before you, and I am somewhat pressed for time. +If you refuse <i>tout court</i>, there is nothing further to be +said. I will take my leave. But it seems to me that you +might submit the case to the judgment of Miss Mynors. +Tell her that I have an estate in Derbyshire, and can settle +five thousand pounds upon her, in addition to what I propose +doing for her family. If she has anything like her +mother's eye to the main chance, she will think twice +before turning me down." +</P> + +<P> +Part of the rage which surged in the woman's heart as +she glared at him was sheer jealousy—jealousy of her +young, fresh daughter. They had met, those two. He +had seen Virginia in a picture-gallery. He, a man of past +forty, wanted to marry this girl of twenty! Oh, what a +fool! What a fool! When she, the suitable age, the suitable +partner, the old, lost love in almost all her old charm, +sat there before him! +</P> + +<P> +"Osbert," she murmured faintly, "don't jeer at me! +For pity's sake be yourself, your old self, for five minutes! +Tell me the meaning of this unkind jest." +</P> + +<P> +"Once more, madam, let me assure you that I am in +earnest. I mean what I say. I am aware that my proposal +does sound quixotic; but I will have it all legally +embodied and made certain. If Miss Mynors will marry +me, I will do for you what I have said. If she will not, +then I regret to be unable to offer you <i>any</i> assistance." +</P> + +<P> +He took up his hat and rose. "May I know whether +you will undertake to convey my offer to your daughter?" +he asked. "If you decline, I leave London to-day. I +farm my own land, and we are busy at Omberleigh just +now. If you decide to tell her, I will await the first post +here in London the day after to-morrow; and, in the event +of her being favourably inclined, I shall come down to +Wayhurst that afternoon." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors clenched her small, ineffectual fists. +There he stood, pitiless. Her presence meant nothing to +him. It left him utterly unmoved. How he had changed +from the days of his emotional youth! +</P> + +<P> +He was master of the situation. If she arose in her +offended majesty, marched off and left him—to what must +she return? To absolute pauperism. She had no relatives +of her own, and her husband's few distant cousins +had been far more frequently appealed to than her daughter +knew, and were tired of helping. By promising to let +Virginia know his terms, she committed herself to nothing. +If there had been an alternative.... But there really +was not! +</P> + +<P> +She, too, rose. "I—I suppose I must tell Virginia," +she said sullenly; "but I shall forbid her to accept your +preposterous suggestion." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, you won't," he replied, again with that odious +smile. "Too much hangs upon it for you. We part, +then, with at least a sporting chance of meeting again. I +hope I shall prove a dutiful son-in-law. Good morning." +</P> + +<P> +He bowed, seeming not to notice her appealing hands, +outstretched in one last attempt to pierce his armour. +</P> + +<P> +He was gone. Thus ended her mission—the last throw +of the dice, upon which she had staked so much! +</P> + +<P> +Nothing now between her and beggary but the remains +of the cheque for twenty pounds, sent to her by Mr. Rosenberg. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +GAUNT'S TERMS +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>Her hand was close to her daughter's heart<BR> + And it felt the life-blood's sudden start;<BR> + A quick deep breath did the damsel draw<BR> + Like the struck fawn in the oakenshaw.</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Rossetti</SPAN>.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Virginia, lily-pale in the heat, sat at the window of the +tiny parlour dignified by the name of dining-room, adding +up accounts. She had given Pansy her lunch, eaten some +bread and cheese herself, and left the child to her daily +afternoon rest while she applied herself to the discussion +of ways and means. +</P> + +<P> +It was Tony's half-holiday, and he would be home, he +promised, at five o'clock, to help her carry down the little +invalid into the garden to have tea. He was renouncing +an hour of his precious cricket to do this. What a darling +he was! Virginia's eyes grew misty as she thought of +him—how pluckily he went without things that "other +chaps" had! How loyally he refrained from piercing her +heart with the thought of her own helplessness to supply +him with what he wanted! +</P> + +<P> +Now, for the first time, she was alone with the problem +created by her mother's improvidence. In all its bare +hideousness, the thing confronted her. The rent was due. +They had always waited to pay it until the cheque for the +quarter's rent at Lissendean came in. Now there was no +cheque to be expected. If her mother's errand to-day had +failed, she must give notice to quit that very afternoon. +Even so, where was this quarter's rent to come from? +The balance at the bank was seven pounds six and two-pence. +</P> + +<P> +The furniture must be sold. This, with her mother's +pretty things, would pay the landlord. Afterwards—what? +</P> + +<P> +The sweet eyes grew dim with a secret, bewildered kind +of pain. Why had Gerald Rosenberg gone away without +a word?... Yet, when she asked herself why not, she +had no intelligible answer to give. Nothing had passed +between himself and her, in words. Only she had been +conscious of his unceasing, absorbed attention, given to herself, +whenever they had been in company. There had +been a tiny secret thread of mutual understanding—or so +Virginia had thought. It now appeared that she was mistaken. +There had been nothing between them. It was +like brushing gossamer from before one's eyes. It had +been there, but it was nothing. The first strong light of +reason dispersed it. Something that had been very sweet, +very poignant, had come to an end. While telling herself +that it had all been her own fancy, inwardly she knew it +was not so. There had been something. But it was only +gossamer—just midsummer madness. +</P> + +<P> +Now that the doom had fallen, she would never see the +Rosenbergs again. She would have to be a governess, if +such a post could be obtained. +</P> + +<P> +Keenly she wondered what was passing between Mrs. +Mynors and her old lover. Though her nature revolted +from the idea, she yet caught herself hoping that a marriage +between the two might come about. If this Mr. +Gaunt—what an uncomfortable name!—was ready to +take his former sweetheart to his home, he surely would +offer asylum to her children, or if not, arrange that they +could be together elsewhere. +</P> + +<P> +Ah! That would be the thing! She lost herself in +visions of this little home with herself, Pansy and Tony in +it—no mother to wait upon; for dearly as she loved the +privilege of waiting upon her mother, Virginia had to own +that it was mamma who made things difficult. +</P> + +<P> +She shut her neatly kept books with a sigh, and as she +did so, glancing up, she saw to her surprise, that her +mother was opening the garden gate. +</P> + +<P> +She must have caught a very early train home! +</P> + +<P> +Swiftly Virginia sprang up, hurried to the door, and +admitted the returned traveller. One glance at the pretty, +sulky face, the lids slightly puffed as with recent tears, told +Virginia that the news was not good; and her heart sank to +a degree so unexpectedly low that she girded at herself for +a coward and a despicable person. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, my dear, you have walked all this way alone in +the heat! How tired you must be. We are going to have +tea in the garden later on—come to your sitting-room; +let me put you on the sofa and take off your shoes. You +will soon feel better," she crooned over her mother, as she +led her to the couch, tended her gently and lovingly, and—oh, +crowning boon—asked no questions. +</P> + +<P> +The care was accepted, but with a reservation which the +sensitive girl was quick to feel. Gazing on the averted +face and pouting lips, she could almost have thought that +mamma was vexed with her, had that not been improbable +under the circumstances. What was it? Did mamma +think she ought to have met the train? Or did she want +special tea made for her alone, immediately? Well, that +was easily done. "Lie and rest, dear one," she said sympathetically, +"and I will just make you a cup of tea; the +kettle won't take five minutes to boil." +</P> + +<P> +When she returned, with the dainty tray, and the wafer +bread and butter, her mother was sitting up, her feet on +the ground, her elbows on a small table, crying silently +into her ridiculous pocket-handkerchief. This could, of +course, only mean complete disaster. With a dreadful +sinking of the heart Virginia murmured: +</P> + +<P> +"You will tell me all about it when you feel able?" +</P> + +<P> +Uncovering her eyes, Mrs. Mynors fixed them reproachfully +upon her daughter; and the girl, conscious of some +unspoken reproach, felt guilty, though no misdeeds came +to her mind. +</P> + +<P> +"Virgie," said a hollow voice, as at last the silence was +broken, "did Miriam Rosenberg, when you were in town, +take you to any picture galleries?" +</P> + +<P> +Virgie stood, the picture of astonishment. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, yes, we went to the Academy," said she, wonderingly, +"and—oh, yes—we went to Hertford House +as well." +</P> + +<P> +As she spoke the words, the memory of that day, that +last day with Gerald, caused the rosy tint to steal up on +her pale cheeks. The lynx eyes fixed upon her saw and +misinterpreted. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you meet a gentleman there?" +</P> + +<P> +Still more mystified, Virginia shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"Virginia, think! A dark man, who walked lame." +</P> + +<P> +The girl started—yes, her mother was not mistaken, +she started quite visibly. "The lame man," she said. +"Yes, of course, I remember." +</P> + +<P> +Something like fury gleamed in the elder woman's +blue eyes as she stood up, confronting her taller daughter. +"He was Mr. Gaunt!" she flashed. +</P> + +<P> +"What! <i>That</i> was Mr. Gaunt? Was it indeed? Oh, +then, perhaps that accounts for it!" +</P> + +<P> +"Accounts for what?" +</P> + +<P> +"That he looked as if he expected me to bow to him or +speak to him—that he looked as if he thought he knew +me! I am very like you, mamma, am I not? Everybody +says so." +</P> + +<P> +"He saw the likeness, and remembers the meeting," +muttered Mrs. Mynors, crumpling up her handkerchief +into a tight ball with vindictive fingers. "I suppose you +thought he admired you very much?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not at all," returned the girl at once. "I thought +he looked angry or offended. He—he followed us about +rather persistently, until Mims and I felt uncomfortable. +We went and sat outside, at the top of the stairs, to get +out of his way." +</P> + +<P> +"Humph! He did admire you, though, for all that! +At least, he wants to marry you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Wha-a-t!" Virginia was guilty of vulgarity in her +amused amaze. "Oh, mummie, don't be silly! He +meant you. You have made a mistake." +</P> + +<P> +Her mother gave a short, bitter laugh. "I am <i>passée</i>," +she said through her teeth. "I ought to have known +better. I ought to have sent you as my ambassador! +You might have been able to come to terms. Tell me," +she cried sharply, grasping her daughter's wrist, "tell me +what you thought of him? Sombre, interesting—eh? +The strong silent man—that kind of thing? You must +have used your eyes in a way that I am sure I never +taught you." +</P> + +<P> +Virginia stood transfixed. She felt as if she were talking +to a stranger. This was a mother she had never seen. +"Oh, mother, dear, what can you mean?" she remonstrated, +in low, hurt tones. +</P> + +<P> +With another mirthless laugh, Mrs. Mynors flung back +upon her sofa pillows. She began to pour tea into a cup, +and her hand shook. +</P> + +<P> +"How little girls understand," said she with sarcasm. +"Tell me now, honestly, what <i>did</i> you think of him?" +</P> + +<P> +Virginia remained a moment, searching her memory. +Every minute of that afternoon was etched clearly in her +mind's eye. "Mims did not like him at all," said she. +"She thought he meant to be rude. But I thought that +he looked—very unhappy." +</P> + +<P> +"A case of mutual love at first sight, evidently," was +the scornful comment. "Well, shall you have him, +Virgie? I am to make you the formal offer of his +hand." +</P> + +<P> +"Mother, I think—I think I had better leave you to +drink some tea and rest," said the meek Virginia. "I +really can't understand what you mean, you are talking +wildly, and I am afraid the long, hot journey has unnerved +you." +</P> + +<P> +"Stop, Virgie, don't go out. I forbid it. You must +stay and listen to what I have to say. Before saying it, +I wanted to find out just how much had passed between +you, and I understand things a little better after what +you tell me. Well! In short, I have what Mr. Gaunt +calls a business offer to put before you, and you have +until to-morrow afternoon's post in which to make up +your mind." +</P> + +<P> +Virginia obediently seated herself upon a chair opposite +her mother, who, between sips of tea, told her of the +offer made by Gaunt. +</P> + +<P> +The elder woman's mind was in a strange tumult—she +hardly knew which was the keener feeling in her—her +furious jealousy or her devouring desire that her daughter +should accept the offer which would lift them out of poverty. +On her journey down in the train, she had been +growing used to the idea. The sense of outrage, which +had stung her so smartly at first, subsided a little, in the +light of other considerations. What chances of matrimony +had Virginia? Since she had let young Rosenberg +slip through her fingers, her mother was beginning to see +that she was not the kind of girl to seize chances, even +should they present themselves. If Gaunt were serious in +his wild plan, if it could be shown that he was financially +solvent and able to do as he promised, then she had better +swallow her feelings and take what she could get. +</P> + +<P> +She told herself that it was one of those cases of sudden +electric sympathy—of love at first sight. Yet she knew +that she said this only to salve her conscience. She was, +as her old lover had told her, no fool. She saw his conduct, +all of a piece. Why had he taken up the mortgage +on Lissendean? To have her in his power. Why did he +wish to become her son-in-law? For the same reason. +Try to deceive herself as she might, she knew that love +had no place in the man's thoughts. When he had spoken +of "getting a bit of his own back," he had spoken with a +certain momentary glimpse of self revelation. He had +uncovered a corner of a mind perverted, a mind which had +brooded long upon a solitary idea of grievance until +obsessed by it. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors, in her sub-conscious self, knew all this. +Had she told her daughter, the girl must have recoiled +shuddering from the prospect of such an alliance. As her +old lover had foreseen, she was very careful <i>not</i> to tell her +daughter anything of the kind. Her better nature had +at first fought within her a little. She resolved that she +would describe Gaunt's malevolence, his cold-blooded assurance. +Then she would come forward, offer to share a +part of Virginia's burden, decide that they must stand together +and face what her own selfish, mean folly had +brought upon them all. But, as she strove to envisage +some of what such a step must cost her, she had cowered +away from the picture. +</P> + +<P> +She <i>could not</i> face beggary. +</P> + +<P> +She began to temporise. How did she know the exact +position of affairs? It was possible that, strive though +he might to conceal it from her, the man was in love. +She determined upon her course of action. She would +tell Virginia how Gaunt had watched her in the Gallery. +The girl's own demeanour should give her the cue as to +whether or no she should proceed to unfold his proposal. +If the sudden fancy had been mutual ... after all, it +<i>might</i> have been mutual.... +</P> + +<P> +She returned home. She spoke. Virginia betrayed +consciousness. Before the mention of the lame man—at +the very memory of Hertford House—she had blushed, +she had been embarrassed. Further questioning had +elicited her clear memory of Gaunt's attention and pursuit. +She had owned, with a distinct hesitation, that she +thought he looked unhappy. That decided Mrs. Mynors. +With a new hard-heartedness, born of her new, tormenting +jealousy of Virgie's youth and sweetness, she stamped +down the deep-lying scruples. She made the best of +Gaunt's case, and said that he wished to come down to +Wayhurst to plead his suit himself. +</P> + +<P> +It took some time to convince Virgie that the man was +in earnest. Yet, recalling his appearance and manner, as +she held them in her memory, the girl owned to herself +that this was a man who might make an eccentric, even a +quixotic, offer. +</P> + +<P> +The interview was broken off short by the entrance of +Tony, who flung open the front door, loudly whistling, +and could be heard throwing down his books, and shouting +for Virgie. He knew better than to enter the little +boudoir, his mother's sanctum. Very, very rarely was +he permitted to set foot within its charmed area. +</P> + +<P> +"I have until to-morrow's post," said Virgie gravely, +as she lifted the tray with the tea-things, and carried it +away. +</P> + +<P> +The whole affair must be pushed into the background +for the time being. Pansy was to be fetched downstairs, +the tea-table spread in the garden, more tea prepared. +Tony was a willing, if somewhat boisterous, helper. He +and his sister between them soon arranged things, and +the too brilliant eyes of the little cripple glistened with +pleasure as she was laid beside the wire arch smothered +in Hiawatha, to enjoy the air of the exquisite summer +evening. +</P> + +<P> +Virgie sat, the socks she endlessly knitted for Tony +in her never idle fingers, watching the clear-cut profile, +which, as she could not conceal from herself, grew ever +more ethereal. Pansy did not seem definitely worse, and +had less pain than formerly. But she was wasting, and +her sister knew it. +</P> + +<P> +The Wayhurst doctor was very anxious that a new +treatment, in which he had great faith, should be tried. +He thought it the only chance; but as it was protracted, +and involved a long course of skilled nursing, with daily +medical supervision, it would be extremely costly. It +was, therefore, out of the question. +</P> + +<P> +Yet, if Virginia married Mr. Gaunt, it would become +easy. He had actually volunteered that Pansy should +have all the help obtainable. She glanced from Pansy to +Tony, and at the darns on his threadbare trouser-knees. +She heard his jolly laugh, and also his quickly smothered +sigh, as he remarked that he was the only chap in his +form who did not belong to the school O.T.C. He knew +that the uniform and camp expenses were beyond his sister's +resources. +</P> + +<P> +This, too, would be rectified, if she did as suggested. +It was a bribe of whose strength Gaunt himself could +form no idea. +</P> + +<P> +Later, when Tony had scampered away to bowl at the +nets, and she was alone in the kitchen washing up tea-things, +she bent her mind upon the extraordinary turn of +affairs. The heat had made her so languid that she was +obliged to sit down while the kettle boiled upon her tiny +oil-stove. Her visit to London had done her spirits good, +but London air is not the best for recuperative purposes. +Moreover, she had been up late most nights during her +stay in town, and the thought of Gerald had at times disturbed +her rest. Since her return—and more especially +since hearing about the mortgage trouble—her strength +seemed to grow less and less. The knowledge that she +was almost at the end of her means, and saw no chance +of replenishing the empty exchequer, had acted upon a +body weakened by a long course of underfeeding. In +her heart she knew that she could not go on much longer +acting as general servant, and starving herself that the +others might have enough. If she broke down—if her +health proved to be so undermined that she could not take +a situation—what was to become of these helpless ones? +</P> + +<P> +The idea that her mother could help in any way never +occurred to her. The three were bracketed together in +her mind, as those for whom she had promised her dying +father to care. +</P> + +<P> +Now came a way out—not an inviting one, but one +that had to be faced nevertheless. If she married Mr. +Gaunt, he undertook to lift her burdens from her shoulders. +Moreover, he lived in the country—the real country. +Omberleigh Grange was in Derbyshire, and it must +have a garden—a real garden, such as she had been born +to, such as she loved. A garden in which to rest and +grow strong again, a garden in which Pansy might be +wheeled along smooth walks, and lie under the spreading +shade of big trees. These things could be hers, at a price. +What did the price involve? +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Gaunt had loved her mother. He knew, of course, +that her mother had preferred another man; but she, Virginia, +bore a wonderful resemblance to the woman lost, +and the lonely man wanted to satisfy his empty heart by +cherishing her. In return, he would do for mother, for +Pansy, for Tony, all the things that she, poor Virgie, in +her helplessness, could not do, with all her love. The +sacrifice demanded was just the sacrifice of herself. Well—what +did that matter? Why should she not be sacrificed, +for the good and happiness of those she loved so +ardently? It really was very simple, after all. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps a few weeks earlier she might not have felt +quite so indifferent. There had been shining gates—the +gates of a young girl's fancy—and shyly they had begun +to open, and to show a tiny glimpse of rosy mysteries +within. +</P> + +<P> +That was over now. It had been but gossamer and +illusion. This was a real, definite, tangible plan—a rope +held out to save her perishing family, drifting on a bit +of wreckage. In the seizing of the rope, she herself, incidentally, +would be sacrificed. That was all. Why not? +</P> + +<P> +By the time that the scanty crockery was arranged in +spotless order on the shelves, and the kitchen as tidy as a +new pin, the girl had practically come to a decision. She +said nothing, however, that night. Pansy was a little +over-tired after her garden excursion, and could not get +to sleep, so, instead of sitting with her mother downstairs, +Virginia remained at the little invalid's bedside and read +aloud. When at last the child slept, she was too tired +to do anything but go to bed herself. Nevertheless, her +preoccupations awoke her in the early summer dawn. +</P> + +<P> +In her utter simplicity she slipped from bed and knelt +down in her white garment. She asked for guidance, and +it seemed to her childlike faith that it was granted. Like +her namesake in far-off old Rome, she must be sacrificed. +She remembered the words of the ballad she had learned +as a child, the words spoken by the frantic father of the +Roman Virginia: "And now, my own dear little girl, +there is no way but this!" +</P> + +<P> +It was as though her own father's voice spoke to her +from the grave, urging her to courage and a stout heart. +The man was a stranger, the man was formidable; but she +would be so good to him that they must grow to understand +each other. +</P> + +<P> +It was the only way, and she resolved to take it. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +VIRGINIA DECIDES +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>Early in the morning<BR> + When the first cock crowed his warning<BR> + Neat as bee, as sweet and busy,<BR> + Fetched in honey, milked the cows,<BR> + Aired and set to rights the house,...<BR> + Fed the poultry, sat and sewed;<BR> + Talked as modest maidens should.</i>"<BR> + —<SPAN CLASS="scap">Christina Rossetti</SPAN>.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +When Virginia went into her mother's room after +breakfast that morning, she told her quietly that she had +made her decision. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors gave a half-stifled, excited exclamation. +For the life of her she could not have told what she hoped +or desired. She stared at her composed daughter with +eyes half of entreaty, half of fear. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall write and tell Mr. Gaunt to come to-morrow," +said Virginia with calm. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, for pity's sake, child, are you not mad?" cried +the wretched woman in the bed. +</P> + +<P> +"I have considered it," was the steady answer. "He +is unhappy, and I am pretty sure that I could be a comfort +to him. His way of doing things seems odd; but he +is lonely, and I daresay he has been soured. I will do all +I can to make him happy, if he on his side will perform +his promises to you and the children." +</P> + +<P> +"Virgie, don't!" The voice was so altered, so strange, +that the girl paused, wondering. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't? Why do you say so?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because I——" Mrs. Mynors came to a stop. +What could she say? "Because I have a lurking idea +that he will not be kind to you." How ridiculous that +sounded! And upon what was it based? Only upon the +man's manner—his insolence, his evident desire to wound +and insult her. Somehow she could not tell Virgie how +his open contempt had stung. +</P> + +<P> +"Because you—you don't know him—you can't love +him," she stammered. +</P> + +<P> +"But <i>you</i> knew him and loved him well enough to +promise to marry him," countered Virgie instantly. "Of +course, that has great weight with me. If he were a complete +stranger, it would be different." She stood beside +the bed, playing with one of its brass corner-knobs. +"You know, mamma, I am rather an odd girl," said she +with a swift blush. "I think I am attracted to what I +pity. It would be waste to marry me to an adoring husband, +who would give me everything I desired. I would +rather give than have things given to me." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors lay back, watching her through narrowed +eyes. "You are—yes, you certainly are odd," she muttered. +"I own that I don't understand you in the least." +</P> + +<P> +Virgie smiled. None knew better than she herself the +truth of this statement. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course," said she, "I am not accepting his offer +definitely. I am simply saying that he may come here +and see me to-morrow. I could not clinch the matter until +we have some hold over him." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" cried her mother sharply. "What do you +mean by that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," replied her young daughter simply, "Mr. +Gaunt has made some big promises. How do we know +that he means to keep them? You say he is eccentric. +He may not be trustworthy. In any case, I shall not +agree to do as he asks without being certain that he will +do as he offers. We must go to Mr. Askew and ask him +to come and meet him, so that a proper settlement may be +prepared." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, upon my word! Virgie, you cold-blooded little +horror!" began Mrs. Mynors, almost in a scream. She +broke off abruptly and rolled over, hiding her face in the +pillows. +</P> + +<P> +"But, mother," said Virgie wonderingly, "you don't +reflect. I am promising to give all that I have or am. +Suppose I did that, and found myself cheated of the price? +You must know that I should not think of marrying a +man I have hardly seen and do not love, except for you +and the children. Do you call me cold-blooded because +I am careful to assure myself that I shan't be sacrificed in +vain?" +</P> + +<P> +Her mother wrung her hands. "Virgie, you know +that I do not demand such an unnatural bargain?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I know that you don't demand it," was the +quiet answer. "It is my own decision. I promise you +one thing: if, when Mr. Gaunt comes, I feel that he is a +person I never could care for, if he repels me utterly, I +will draw back. But you know, mother, you have told +me one or two things about him, as he was in the old days +when you loved him—and they were rather fine." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but he is so altered," sobbed Mrs. Mynors from +the pillow. "You would never know him for the same +man. He used to be so tender, so chivalrous, so impulsive. +Now he seems so hard, so——" +</P> + +<P> +She broke off. What was she doing? The affair that +was to bring her comparative ease, to keep her from starvation, +was well in train. Should she herself stop it? She +reflected that Virginia was not accepting definitely—only +promising to consider the matter. Let things take their +course. She believed the girl had some sentimental school-girl +fancy about Osbert! Yes, she had thought that from +the first. She was wasting her compassion, her delicate +feeling. +</P> + +<P> +After all, considering Virgie's beauty, was it likely that +Gaunt would be cruel to her? With a feeling almost like +hatred she studied the pure outline of the profile, the effect +of the sunlight glinting through the brown-gold hair, the +curve of the chin, the slimness of the young, drooping +body, veiled in its blue overall. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, do as you like!" she cried, "send your letter; +but talk as little as you can to me about it! How do you +suppose I like being told that you are sacrificing yourself +for me? I can go to the workhouse in the last resort, like +other people." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps. But Pansy can't," said Virginia, a trifle +rigidly. She took up the tray and disappeared. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +The day dragged by. To Virginia it seemed as if it +would never end, and yet as if it were passing like a sigh. +She felt as those who have been in a sinking ship have described +themselves as feeling when the wave rose above +the gunwale, and seemed to hesitate—to pause awfully—before +it burst. +</P> + +<P> +Pansy was very insistently eager to know what had +passed between mamma and Mr. Gaunt the previous day. +It was hard to stave off her pertinacious inquiry, but +Virgie was able to tell her that negotiations were going +on which might, or might not, lead to something. To-morrow +would bring more news. +</P> + +<P> +Thus the dawn broke upon the fatal day—a day of persistent +fine rain which did nothing to abate the heat. +</P> + +<P> +At about ten o'clock the loud imperative knock of a +telegraph boy sounded upon the little door. Virginia +took in the message. It was from Gaunt, and ran thus— +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>Please reply definitely to business offer, which otherwise +is off.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The girl sat down, with knees shaking, staring at the +message, which was reply paid. The boy waited whistling +in the little entrance passage. +</P> + +<P> +Should she give the definite answer demanded? Could +she face the knowledge that all hope was over? She +would not show her mother the despotic telegram. She +knew that she must answer it for herself. +</P> + +<P> +Taking a pencil she wrote: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>Definite reply impossible till after visit. May we +expect you?</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +She prepaid the reply to this, dismissed the boy, and +walked into the kitchen with limbs shaking. She felt as +if she had defied the robber chief who was holding them +all to ransom. +</P> + +<P> +It is difficult to describe the storm of excitement in +which she awaited the second message. Her mother and +Pansy both demanded the meaning of the double knock. +She replied tranquilly to her mother that Mr. Gaunt had +tried to extort a definite answer, which she had refused +to give. Mrs. Mynors' cry: "Then he won't come after +all?" was so tragic that the girl's heart contracted. +</P> + +<P> +Within an hour she held in her hands the following +remarkable sentence: +</P> + +<P> +</P> + +<P> +<i>You gain nothing by delay. Arrive about four.</i> +</P> + +<P> +</P> + +<P> +Virgie could not conceal from herself that it was relief +which she experienced. Putting on her hat, she went out +in the rain, down to the town, to the office of Mr. Askew, +the solicitor, who had helped her with the agreement for +Laburnum Villa, and in one or two other small matters. +She asked him to come up that afternoon, at about half-past +four. Then she bought a few little cakes for tea, +and returned home to arrange everything as spick and +span as possible. +</P> + +<P> +Her mother had insisted that the "supply" should be +asked to come up for the afternoon, that their guest might +not know of their servantless condition. Virginia was at +first opposed to the idea, but after reflection she agreed. +Mr. Gaunt must not think them too utterly in his power. +She felt like the besieged citizens who threw loaves of +bread over the walls, in order that the besiegers might +suppose that they were living in plenty. Moreover, the +presence of Mrs. Brown would ensure that Pansy and +Tony were not neglected, but had tea at the proper time, +Virgie being otherwise engaged. +</P> + +<P> +Thus it was that Gaunt, on his arrival, was admitted +by a responsible-looking middle-aged woman in a very +clean apron, and shown into a room which, though tiny, +was a bower of luxury. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors, beautifully gowned, rose from the downy +Chesterfield to greet him. She thought he looked less +vindictive, less ironical than he had seemed at their last +meeting. After all, perhaps she had been fancying +things! +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, "so our young lady is considering the +subject, as I foresaw she would do. She is her mother's +own daughter." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors smothered her resentment at this extraordinary +address. She was conscious of a hatred which was +difficult to keep within bounds, but her own panic, when +she knew that there was a doubt of his coming, had shown +her something of what would be her frame of mind if +Virginia declined to marry. +</P> + +<P> +"Virginia," said she, "is by no means my own daughter. +I am a wretched woman of business, whereas her +head is as clear as a man's. She wishes to have all that +you propose to do for us embodied in a marriage settlement." +</P> + +<P> +"Ha!" said Gaunt, as if delighted. The mother +could hardly have made a more misleading statement. +"Sharp young woman, indeed! Well, I respect her for +that. There's no reason that I know of, for her to trust +me. Where is she, by the bye? Has she entrusted the +preliminaries to you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, she has not. She is acting quite independently +in this matter," snapped Mrs. Mynors. "She is not quite +of age, but I have always left her a great liberty of action. +In fact, we have been more like sisters than mother and +daughter." She dabbed her eyes daintily, and her voice +was fraught with pathos. +</P> + +<P> +"How charming!" said Gaunt gravely. "Did she +remember having met me at the Wallace Collection?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, indeed she did! She remembered very +well!" cried Mrs. Mynors, and her laugh was nearly as +unpleasant as his own. +</P> + +<P> +"Capital," was his comment. "All should go well +then. Is love at first sight the proper cue, eh? Advise +me. What do you think?" +</P> + +<P> +For a moment the mask dropped. The real woman +looked at him through the eyes of the elder Virginia. "I +think you are a devil," she said distinctly. +</P> + +<P> +He seemed much amused. "Well, perhaps you are +not so far out this time. I told you that you were no +fool. I thought you could be trusted to prepare the way +for these difficult negotiations. Now may I see the lady +of my heart?" +</P> + +<P> +As he spoke, the door opened softly and Virginia +walked in. +</P> + +<P> +She wore her deceptive air of extreme elegance, and her +prettiest frock. It was a costume grossly unsuited to the +tiny villa, and she had hitherto worn it only in London. +Any man beholding her might have been pardoned for +supposing her to be a luxury-loving idler, a girl who +thought of little else but appearances. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt stood up. She approached him with a mingling +of shyness and welcome; her manner seemed to trust him +completely—to say that she knew herself safe in his +hands. It might have made appeal to the veriest ruffian, +had not his eye been jaundiced by his knowledge of her +mother, and of their penniless circumstances. Her virginal +modesty was to him merely consummate hypocrisy. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, "so I hear that you are not going to +commit yourself until I stand committed too? Is that +so?" +</P> + +<P> +She laughed a little breathlessly. His non-smiling, +dark face and big, rather hulking person were formidable, +and she was conscious of fear. +</P> + +<P> +"You said it was a business transaction, and business +transactions ought to be business-like, ought they not?" +she asked. She was speaking playfully, while her eyes +sought his, as wanting to understand, to obtain some key +to his curious behaviour. "It was kind of you to come, +nevertheless," she added, with a hesitation born of his +lack of response. +</P> + +<P> +"I am a non-social, boorish kind of person," he said +abruptly, after a pause, during which she withdrew herself +and sat down. "I suppose I ought to begin with +some kind of apology for such a blunt offer, hey? But +I am told that young ladies nowadays like something out +of the way; and you could fill in the details for yourself, +I expect. You saw me admiring you that day in the +Gallery, did you not?" +</P> + +<P> +Again the eyes, so like, so unlike, her mother's, were +lifted to those of the man who remembered each look and +smile of twenty years back as if it had been yesterday. +</P> + +<P> +"I noticed something special—something I could not +interpret—in your manner," was her gentle reply. "I +told my friend that I thought you must imagine that you +knew me. I was interested when mamma said that it was +my likeness to her which drew your attention. I was +glad to have it so well explained." +</P> + +<P> +He leaned forward, intent upon her face and her down-bent +gaze. "Well," he said, in a voice which thrilled +her curiously, "perhaps you think that my suggestion is +not quite so surprising, after all?" +</P> + +<P> +Virginia made no reply. Her mother clenched her +hands in rage, made some small movement, enough to attract +his attention, and caught a ray of what was undoubtedly +malice directed at her from under his heavy lids. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he went on, turning again to the girl, his tone +subdued and almost gentle, "what do you say?" +</P> + +<P> +She wavered—her colour came. Innocent and ignorant +of life though she was, she yet felt the immensity of +the step she was taking; but, strangely enough, the fact +that the man gave her no help counted in his favour with +her. His manner suggested some tremendous feeling, out +of sight. His aloofness was like a fine and delicate consideration. +The mocking quality in his address, so obvious +to her mother, passed her by. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you really think," she asked, her gaze still upon +the ground, "that I am an adequate exchange for all the +things you promise to do for—<i>them</i>?" +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me now—enumerate—what have I promised to +do for <i>them</i>?" +</P> + +<P> +She lifted her eyes then. He was not looking at her, +but brushing the sleeve of his coat where a crumb had +fallen upon it. This avoidance gave her courage. "To +educate Tony," said her voice, so fatally like her mother's +in its cadenced sweetness, "to allow mother three hundred +pounds a year, and to let Pansy have the best advice and +treatment for her lameness." +</P> + +<P> +"I admit all that, right enough. Anything more?" +</P> + +<P> +"To settle five thousand pounds on me——" +</P> + +<P> +He looked in triumph at Mrs. Mynors. "Admirable!" +he said, with a sarcasm which penetrated to the girl's intelligence +with a shock. She broke off, startled. +</P> + +<P> +"All right," he told her soothingly. "I agree to that +too. Anything more?" +</P> + +<P> +"Our solicitor, Mr. Askew, said there was another +thing that I ought to ask," she replied, quite tranquilly. +"It is that you should make a will in my favour, so that +if anything happened to you, we should not be left destitute." +</P> + +<P> +He once more let his mocking glance lash Mrs. Mynors. +"I appreciate my future wife's business capacity," said +he, "but I warn you that I am horribly healthy. Except +for the accident which lamed me, I have not had a day's +illness in my life. I fear I shan't oblige you by dying +just yet." +</P> + +<P> +Virgie grew pink. "Oh, I beg your pardon! That +must have sounded very cold-blooded," she apologised. +"But you said it was a business offer, did you not?" +</P> + +<P> +He smiled for the first time. Dropping his voice to a +low persuasiveness: "Did you quite believe that?" he +asked. +</P> + +<P> +Thus challenged, the truth in Virginia spoke. "No," +she told him; "I thought it too extraordinary to be true." +</P> + +<P> +"Besides," he persisted, still in that wooing undertone, +"with a man who had seen you, it could hardly be, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +Virgie held her breath. Something was here which was +utterly beyond her. She was half terrified, half fascinated. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you remember the statue on the landing at Hertford +House?" he asked. The blood rushed to her cheeks +now in headlong tide. <i>He</i> knew what brought it; her +mother misinterpreted. +</P> + +<P> +"When you had gone, I went and read the inscription," +he pursued. "I told myself how true it was. Do you +remember it? <i>Voici ton maître?</i>" +</P> + +<P> +He sat and watched the memory, the pang that rent +her. The sight of it seemed to give him real pleasure. +He could trace the regret, the quiver of feeling, and he +could say to himself: "She loves young Rosenberg, but +she will marry me for my money. She deserves the punishment +which I am going to inflict." +</P> + +<P> +"So, you see, I am a wise man; I know when I am +beaten," he went on smoothly. "I acknowledged my master +when I found him." +</P> + +<P> +The struggle in Virginia was keen. She was telling +herself that this was Mr. Gaunt's highly unusual way of +confessing himself attracted. If it were true that he +already felt this strong inclination, then she must satisfy +him; the marriage ought to be a success, since he had the +desire to love, and she the will to please, to serve, to +cherish. Yet there was an undernote, like the boom of the +far-away storm in the voice of a calm sea. This alarmed +her, for she did not understand it. +</P> + +<P> +To steady herself and hide her embarrassment she rose +and went to the tea-table, at which she seated herself, +pouring the tea and dispensing it with the noticeable +grace which characterised her least important actions. +</P> + +<P> +She noticed that her mother was shedding tears, and the +sight caused her to make a great effort and launch into +small talk—of the late heat, and the rain, and the climate +of Wayhurst. Small support did she receive from either +of her companions; and by the time that Gaunt had eaten +a slice of cake and drunk two cups of tea, his patience +seemed suddenly to give out. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, then," he asked suddenly, "have we arranged +matters, subject to your finding the business side of the +transaction in good order?" +</P> + +<P> +Thus confronted with the bald issue, Virgie felt as if +he had slapped her in the face; but in a moment she had +rallied. He had promised to give her all she asked. +Could she, logically, do aught else but accept? She +clasped her hands tightly in her lap, hesitated, rose, and +went to the window, gazing forth upon the little wet +street. Over the way, at Alpine Cottage, the pug had +managed to get shut out in the rain. It was astonishing +how often he did this. It was the one thing that seriously +displeased his prim and elderly mistress. Virgie's +mind caught at the trifling fact, the little bit of her daily +life, as if its consideration could protect her against the +awful decision which loomed ahead. +</P> + +<P> +"If you want to stipulate for other things, now is your +time," said Gaunt, rising and coming towards her. It +was but a step, for the room was tiny. "For instance, +don't you want it put in the settlements that you should +have so many months in town every year, or that I should +give you a motor? I haven't got a motor, I must warn +you." +</P> + +<P> +Here was something that she could answer without hesitation. +She turned to him her lovely, tender smile. +"Oh, all that! Why, I shall be your wife," she sweetly +answered him. +</P> + +<P> +There was a tingling silence after this artless speech. +Gaunt's face fell. He looked as though a momentary +doubt assailed him. Then he realised that he must seize +the chance she thus unwittingly gave him of assuming her +consent. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! then you can think of yourself as my wife?" +He turned his face to where Mrs. Mynors sat like a woman +hypnotised. "Then we are engaged!" he cried. "I am +such a crusted old provincial bachelor that I did not provide +for this occasion before I left town by the purchase +of a ring. But I see upon your mother's finger a jewel +which, if I mistake not, belongs to me." He approached +the sofa with hand outstretched. "Thank you, madam. +It seems to me a most touching idea that the mother and +daughter should wear the same betrothal ring." He held +it out to Virginia. +</P> + +<P> +"Put it on," he said. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia wavered. She looked from the man to the +woman, bewildered with the invisible clash of feelings +which she could not interpret. Mrs. Mynors hid her face +behind her perfumed wisp of lawn; but, then, she would +have done that in any case at such a moment as her daughter's +betrothal. Gaunt's eyes were alight, but, as it were, +a-smoulder; there was no flame in their glance. +</P> + +<P> +Turning very white, the girl took the ring from him +and obediently slipped it upon her finger. +</P> + +<P> +"Done!" he said, in tones of boundless satisfaction. +"Now we come to definite arrangements." He seated +himself again, but Virginia remained standing as if something +had turned her to stone. "I live a very busy life +at Omberleigh," he told her briskly, "farming my own +land; and my estate is a big one. I must go down there +to-night to superintend the end of the hay harvest, and I +must stay there a few days in order to prepare the house +for your reception. I should like to be married this day +week if that will suit you. As we both live in our own +parishes, there will be no difficulty about a licence. It is +not possible for me to take a honeymoon at this time of +year, so I shall carry you straight back to Derbyshire after +the ceremony." +</P> + +<P> +"Wait—wait. No, no, Osbert, this is preposterous!" +broke in Mrs. Mynors. "This cannot be. Virginia does +not know you; she is all unprepared. Such haste is—improper! +I will not have it." +</P> + +<P> +He looked as obstinate as a mule with its ears laid back. +"Sorry," he said. "On this matter I shall be obliged to +insist. I must be married before we begin to reap, and it +is going to be a very early harvest this year. Don't make +difficulties. Remember that you profess to be very hard +up, and I don't begin to make you any allowance until +your daughter is my wife." +</P> + +<P> +Virginia was reflecting. "If they told me I was to +have an operation I would rather have it at once, than be +left to think about it." +</P> + +<P> +She spoke suddenly. "Mother, I can be ready," she +said gently. "Let it be as Mr. Gaunt thinks best." +</P> + +<P> +"Excellent!" said the bridegroom. "Your mother +tells me that she allows you complete independence of +action, so we will take this as settled. Is that your solicitor +now entering the gate? I will give him my instructions +at once with your permission, for I must go back to +London by the six train to catch the express to Ashbourne." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +INTO THE UNKNOWN +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>Graceful as an ivy bough<BR> + Born to cling and lean,<BR> + Thus she sat to sing and sew....<BR> + When she raised her lustrous eyes<BR> + A beast peeped at the door.</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Christina Rossetti</SPAN>.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Mr. Askew stood at the window, watching the figure +of the prospective bridegroom limping down the road. +He turned his mild eyes back to the two ladies within the +room with something like wonder in their depths. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Virginia, I congratulate you," he said almost +reverently. "You have indeed found a generous husband." +</P> + +<P> +"You think—you are of opinion—that his generosity +is exceptional?" faltered Mrs. Mynors. +</P> + +<P> +"Exceptional? But, my <i>dear</i> madam, it is unheard +of! Strong indeed must be the attachment! He told +me," added the kind old man, with a smile of appreciation +at the bride-elect, "that it was a case of love at first sight. +Miss Virginia has made a conquest worth boasting of!" +</P> + +<P> +Virginia stood gazing anxiously at the speaker. She +longed to ask if he was quite sure that her future husband +was sane; but such a question must appear too eccentric +for her to venture upon it. Fortunately, the next words +of the lawyer practically answered it. +</P> + +<P> +"And such a grasp of business! Such a fine, keen +intelligence! He tells me that he runs his estate at a +profit, has all these new intensive culture ideas, and plenty +of capital to carry them out. A fine fortune, indeed! +One wonders how it chances that such a man has remained +so long a bachelor!" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors bridled, but said nothing. Virginia absorbed +the sense of the opinion just given with considerable +relief. The information respecting Gaunt's scientific +cultivation of his land interested her. Her own +father, living on his hereditary acres, had been in like +manner devoted to the soil. At Lissendean, however, the +land had starved to supply the constantly increasing demands +of the mistress of the house; and the shadow of +the approaching, inevitable bankruptcy had paralysed all +planning, and embittered the premature illness and death +of a chivalrous and simple gentleman. +</P> + +<P> +The thought that this free life, of tramping over fields +and through spinneys, of riding across one's own acres, +and watching the response of the earth to the hand of +man, might once more be hers, went far to reconcile the +new Andromeda to her lot. The manner and appearance +of her suitor had rather puzzled than hurt her. He had +pleaded solitude and boorishness as a reason for his extraordinarily +abrupt tactics. If he atoned for his surprising +rudeness in the matter (for instance) of her mother's +ring by being good to his wife, and allowing her to have +Pansy to stay with her, then she might be so nearly happy +that she need waste little regret upon her own action in +shutting upon her youth the gate of dreams. Softly she +stole from the room, leaving her mother still in talk with +Mr. Askew, finding out all she could as to the extent of +her son-in-law's means; and privately speculating as to +how far it would be prudent to exceed the miserable allowance +which he proposed to make her. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia went upstairs to Pansy's room to console the +child for her disappointment in not having seen her future +brother. Shyly the elder sister, when Gaunt was taking +leave, had suggested a moment's visit to the little invalid. +She had been curtly refused. He had barely time in +which to catch his train to London. By way of comfort, +Virgie now enlarged upon the big, beautiful garden at +Omberleigh, wherein, of course, Pansy would ere long find +herself installed. Eagerly the child noticed and remarked +upon the beautiful ring which her sister wore. She had +not previously seen it, and was naturally kept in ignorance +of its somewhat humiliating history. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder what else he will send you, Virgie," said the +child eagerly. "I expect that before long lovely wedding +presents will begin to come. What dress shall you buy +to be married in, darling?" +</P> + +<P> +"I shan't buy any," was the calm reply. "We are to +be married with nobody there but mother and Tony, at +ten o'clock in the morning, and I shall have to travel back +to Omberleigh afterwards. I shall just wear my frock +that you are so fond of, with the chiffon tunic, and take +a dust-coat to church with me." +</P> + +<P> +Pansy was inclined to be disappointed, but Virginia +showed her how impossible it was for her to spend money +which they had not got, and how far more honourable she +felt it to be going to her marriage in things which had +been paid for. +</P> + +<P> +Busy days they were for Virgie, for she had to engage +a good, competent servant for Laburnum Villa, and also +to make arrangements with their doctor for Pansy to try +the treatment he had always been so eager to recommend. +Everything had to be so ordered that it might be fully +in train by the wedding day, that her mother should not +feel too much inconvenienced by the departure of her devoted +maid-of-all-work. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps the most difficult task of all that fell to the +bride was the writing of her news to Miriam Rosenberg. +Long did she sit with the tip of her penholder laid thoughtfully +on her lip, her eyes gazing gravely forth, but seeing +nothing. She felt the extraordinary circumstances needed +some handling. She must try to put things in their most +favourable light without actually violating truth. And it +was only a few days before her day of doom that she finally +achieved the following: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<i>My dearest Mims,</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>I am writing a line to tell you a piece of news which +will, I think, astonish you. I am going to be married! +More surprising still, I am going to be married next Tuesday! +It sounds wild, I know, considering that when I +was with you there was no such idea; but it is not quite +as sudden as it seems, for Mr. Gaunt is a very old friend, +and knew mother before I was born. He is being most +incredibly good, and is to provide for mother, Pansy and +Tony. Is it not wonderful? Like a story in a book. +He lives in Derbyshire, and has a big estate, so I shall be +in the country, as in old days—and you know how I love +a country life. When we are settled down, you must +come and stay with us.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>Nobody is invited to the wedding, Mr. Gaunt having +no near relative. It is to be early in the morning, with +only mother and Tony present, as we have a long way to +go afterwards.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>I send you much love, and I shall never forget all your +goodness to me.—Your constant friend</i>, +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<SPAN CLASS="scap">Virginia Mynors</SPAN>. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +For the two days which followed the despatch of this +letter Virginia lived in secret suspense. She did not +really believe that there was any likelihood that Perseus, +in the handsome person of Gerald Rosenberg, would arrive +to unchain her from her rock; yet the tiny chance +that he might fought and struggled within her. Each +time the postman passed she felt her heart lift in her side. +Each time the bell rang she wondered whether there might +not be a tall figure waiting on the other side of the door. +</P> + +<P> +As might have been expected, no such thing happened. +A letter came from Mims by return of post, full of congratulation +and excitement, and stating that a consignment +of wedding presents had been despatched. In fact, +Mr. Rosenberg, senior, was so transported with gratitude +to Virginia for refraining from becoming his daughter-in-law +that he bestowed on her a set of ermine furs fit for a +princess. Mims sent a mirror in a silver frame; Gerald +a pendant. +</P> + +<P> +Except for a silver cream-jug from Mr. Askew, these +were the only presents the girl received. Tony and Pansy +almost broke their hearts at being unable to give anything, +until Mrs. Mynors, roused to most unexpected generosity, +allowed them to go shares with her in pressing upon +Virgie's acceptance some articles of her mother's silver +toilet set—brush, comb, and so on. +</P> + +<P> +Small time had the bride for reflection, until the dawn +of the fatal day. +</P> + +<P> +The rain had changed the weather. The heat was no +longer great—in fact, the day was chilly and grey, with +a gusty little wind which blew up the dust in sudden puffs. +</P> + +<P> +The bride's toilette, of pale blue over white, was extremely +pretty. As she stood in the drawing-room awaiting +the fly which would drive her, her mother and Tony +to the church, Mrs. Mynors thought she had never seen a +more perfect picture of girlish fairness. Excitement and +nervous trepidation had chased the pallor with which a +sleepless night had invested her. Up to the last moment +she had been at work upon this and that—rearranging +her own room to accommodate the professional nurse who +would be in charge of Pansy during her treatment, trying +to think out and plan everything so exactly that her +mother would not be able to upset it afterwards. It was +not until nearly two o'clock in the morning that she finished +her own packing, and lay down to the thoughts of +unspeakable dread with which she now knew that she regarded +her approaching marriage. +</P> + +<P> +Since the day of Gaunt's visit her mother had hardly +spoken to her. Her silence was not exactly hostile, but it +was very wounding. It was as though she had suddenly +discovered that her daughter was not the girl she took +her to be; as if the poor child was abandoning her home +and duties to make a rich marriage—leaving her mother +to pine in the little villa, cut off from all her own set. +There was nothing to take hold of, nothing that Virginia +could plead against; it was just an atmosphere of coldness, +of pained surprise, but it seemed to the depressed +girl to be the last straw. +</P> + +<P> +With her usual patience she shouldered the burden and +bore it. She guessed, with her quick, sensitive sympathy, +that perhaps it hurt mamma less to adopt this attitude. +Her daughter was sacrificing herself to her family. To +admit this stunning weight of obligation must, of course, +be painful. Mamma always shrank from painful things. +She had discovered this pose of hers as a kind of refuge +from humiliation. Virgie accepted it meekly. Nevertheless, +the tears which it wrung from her in the darkness +of her last night at home were bitter, and could not be +checked for a long time. +</P> + +<P> +The knowledge that Gaunt was in the town, that he had +arrived by the last train the previous night, and was putting +up at the Ducal Arms near the station, seemed to render +sleep impossible. She could not tell why. Not till +five o'clock had struck was she compelled by mere exhaustion +to close her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +All her life Virginia had been a poor eater, and the +least excitement was wont to deprive her of appetite. As +a result of this, she had eaten, during the past ten days, +barely enough to keep her alive. There was nobody to +notice what she ate, or whether she took a sufficient quantity. +As she had been under-nourished for the last two +years, with the sole exception of her fortnight with the +Rosenbergs, during great part of which mental agitation +had made it difficult for her to eat, she was in a state of +real debility. Wholly inadequate did she feel for what +lay before her—the new beginning, the effort to understand +the unknown being whom she was to marry, the +settling into strange surroundings. Her weakness and +discouragement were so profound that, by the time she had +arisen, dressed for church, and passed through the sharp +and biting agony of her parting from Pansy, she was reduced +to a state of passive endurance. +</P> + +<P> +All the way to church she talked feverishly, eagerly to +Tony of what they would do in the future. She would +pay his pocket money out of her own allowance. He was +to join the school O.T.C. at once, so that he might go into +camp at the end of term.... +</P> + +<P> +In such plans as these lay her only anodyne. +</P> + +<P> +Her mother was reduced to complete silence. Mrs. +Mynors—in her own opinion—was the interesting and +tragic heroine of this occasion. She, in all her beauty, all +her desolation, had been passed by in favour of her inexperienced, +immature daughter. The pathos of her position—left +in Laburnum Villa while Virginia went to +take up a place in county society—flooded her with self-pity. +Never had she felt capable of such an intensity of +emotion as upon this day, when she was carried helpless +to church to give her daughter away. Never had she come +so near to being primally and brutally elementary as at +the moment when the carriage stopped at the church door, +and Gaunt came forward, greeting her with: +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning, my mother-in-law!" +</P> + +<P> +She drew in her breath with a sound like a moan; but +in a flash she had seen that she must make no manifestation. +The time for that had gone by. As she moved up +the church, side by side with her daughter, she realised +two things, sharply and simultaneously. One, that she +could and ought to have prevented this marriage; the +other, that it was now too late. +</P> + +<P> +What was Gaunt's plan she could not exactly know. +If it was simply to mortify her, then she could not see +why he should be unkind to Virgie. Yet she distrusted +and feared him; and she had given no warning to the simple +creature at her side, going like a lamb to the slaughter, +blind to all life's mysterious issues, blind to the sinister +motive which her mother so clearly saw behind Gaunt's +eccentric marriage. For Virginia, the old truth held +good, that at the actual moment one ceases to realise what +is happening. The service struck her with a sense of +detachment. She heard it with interest, almost for the +first time. The vows were, indeed, comprehensive. One +had, however, the comforting knowledge that the vowing +was mutual. He promised things as well as she. There +was a curious consolation in the reflection that he vowed +to love, cherish, and even worship his wife. There seemed +nothing detached about his own participation in the rite. +He grasped her fingers so strongly as to be almost painful +as he vowed "to have and to hold." +</P> + +<P> +And now it was done, and there was no more use in +wondering whether one had been right or wrong. +</P> + +<P> +The bare and unadorned service was quickly over. +The elderly vicar read a short and platitudinous address +to the newly married out of a small pastoral book. Gaunt +took his wife's hand, placed it on his arm, and marched +her into a stuffy, small vestry, wherein she was to write +for the last time her name, Virginia Mynors. +</P> + +<P> +She wrote it; and turning, fixed her troubled gaze upon +her mother with an expression so bewildered, so lost, that +it pierced even through the crust of egotism. Mrs. +Mynors began to gasp hysterically, but, after a momentary +fight for composure, managed to say, "Osbert, Osbert, I +conjure you! Be good to her! Be good to my Virgie!" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear mother-in-law, I promise you that Virgie +shall have the treatment she deserves," was his reply. +"Come, Mrs. Gaunt, we must be off, if we are to catch +the London train." +</P> + +<P> +Virginia was now quite numb. She took his arm because +he offered it, and because there seemed nothing else +to do. They were at the church door. She broke away +from Gaunt to fling her arms round Tony. The boy was +radiant, showing her with glowing eyes a sovereign which +his new brother-in-law had just bestowed. The sight did +more to encourage the bride than might be supposed. She +kissed her mother next, finding it out of the question to +give any parting message or direction, because the attempt +to articulate would let loose a flood of feeling hardly complimentary +to her husband. +</P> + +<P> +Then she was in the carriage, alone with the man who +was to walk through life at her side. Still the merciful +numbness held her. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt, in an unconcerned way, said he thought they +had better lunch at the Savoy, and she agreed, not knowing +what he meant. He made one or two other trifling +remarks concerning the disposal of her luggage, which +awaited them at the station. +</P> + +<P> +They found the train, and he put her in, walking away +himself, and returning with the news that all the trunks +were safe, and in the van. He laid upon her lap a pile +of magazines and one or two novels. +</P> + +<P> +"I hate talking in a train," he remarked. She could +have loved him for such marvellous consideration. +</P> + +<P> +He had a small bag, stuffed with legal-looking +documents, which he diligently perused. Virginia, thus released +momentarily from strain, lay back against the cushions. +The breeze fluttered into the carriage, sweet with +the breath of summer. She tried to rest, and not to think. +It was impossible not to think, however. Her thoughts +were glued, as it were, to the consideration of this man +to whom she was so strangely tied. +</P> + +<P> +"He loved me at first sight. He guessed who I was. +He got into communication with mother in order to be +introduced. He suggested marriage there and then. +When will he begin to woo me? What will he tell me? +What shall I answer? Shall I be able to help flinching, +from letting him see how abjectly afraid I am?" +</P> + +<P> +He did not put her to the test. Was it possible that +he divined her exhaustion, and respected it? +</P> + +<P> +She was still wondering when the non-stop express ran +into the terminus. +</P> + +<P> +He put her into a taxi while he went and looked after +their baggage. Then he rejoined her, and directed the +driver to the Savoy Hotel. +</P> + +<P> +They secured a table near the window, whence could be +seen the waters of the Thames, the endless movement of +the traffic on the Embankment and the brilliant flowers of +the public gardens. +</P> + +<P> +The beauty of it revived Virgie a little. She ate some +lunch, drank a glass of champagne, and began to make +small, shy comments upon the scene, to which her husband +listened tolerantly, but not as though interested. +She reflected that she must seem to him altogether young +and childish. +</P> + +<P> +Her slender grace and charm drew many eyes. As +Gaunt glanced about him, he was keenly conscious of this. +Presently he leant back with the smile that his mother-in-law +hated. +</P> + +<P> +"Glad you are pleased," said he. "Make the most +of it. You are going to be buried in the heart of the +country from to-day onward." +</P> + +<P> +She laughed lightly. "That will be no hardship," said +she. "What I should not like would be to be buried in +the heart of London. The walls in London seem as if +they must fall down and crush you—so near together. +Have you ever felt that?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't like London." +</P> + +<P> +"Then that is one taste we share," said she thoughtfully, +leaning back to survey him. "How strange that I +should know so little of your tastes! We shall have to +begin at the very beginning, shall we not?" +</P> + +<P> +"The beginning of what?" asked Gaunt. +</P> + +<P> +"Of acquaintanceship," she answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Pardon me. I know you through and through. +You have not a taste, a habit, nor an idea that I am not +intimately acquainted with. Gives me an unfair advantage, +does it not?" +</P> + +<P> +"If it's true, it does indeed; but I don't think it is +true," was her frank answer. +</P> + +<P> +He gave something between a grunt and a laugh. +"You are not competent to form an opinion," he replied, +looking at his watch. "It is now five minutes to two," +he went on, "and our train leaves St. Pancras at four. +What will you do? I am going to have a smoke. Perhaps +you would like to lie down and rest a while—eh?" +</P> + +<P> +It was so exactly what she craved that she thought his +sympathy wonderful. That he was dismissing her to solitude +on her wedding day, while he smoked, did not occur +to her. She thanked him quite eagerly, a maid was summoned, +and she was shown into a room with a deliciously +downy bed. The maid removed her hat, took off her shoes, +drew the blinds, and left, promising to call her in plenty +of time. +</P> + +<P> +She could not sleep, but the silence and the recumbent +posture helped her. She went down to the entrance hall +after her rest, feeling much more able to endure the remainder +of her journey than she had dared to hope. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +IN THE TRAP +</H4> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>'Sit fast—dost fear?—The moon shines clear—<BR> + Fleet goes my barb—keep hold!<BR> + Fearst thou?'—'Oh, no!' she faintly said;<BR> + 'But why so stern and cold?'</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Scott</SPAN>.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Virgie awoke, so to speak, from her numbness in the +train, somewhere between London and Derby. +</P> + +<P> +She was sitting, with her pile of light literature and +fashion papers, opposite the man who had married her, +and who was to all appearance immersed in the folios of +blue foolscap, which he was marking here and there with +red pencil. The documents, so far as she could judge, +were leases. +</P> + +<P> +The motion of the train had lulled her into a short nap, +and it seemed as if quite suddenly she was wide awake, +and pinching herself to make sure that it was not all a +dream. Here was a man who had, as it were, leaped at +a girl, and married her in such hot haste that there was +no time for reflection. One argued, one assumed, the +strong feeling which made such behaviour credible. Yet +now he sat, as a man twenty years married might sit, marking +passages in a lease with red pencil, while his few hours' +bride, in all her delicate loveliness, faced him, neglected, +ignored. +</P> + +<P> +Surely this was puzzling! +</P> + +<P> +Had she but known, her own demeanour was much +more surprising to him than his could be to her. He was +wondering when an outburst of wounded vanity would +come, how much longer she could refrain from comment +upon his behaviour. Surely she must be piqued beyond +endurance, she who imagined herself to have captured his +heart at a glance, and was doubtless pondering the question +of exactly what her conquest represented, in money, +luxury, and pleasure. +</P> + +<P> +His seemingly absorbed attention had, as a fact, hardly +wandered from her for an instant since they met that +morning; and the results of his observations were not according +to his expectation. So far, she had not merely +been pliant, she had seemed grateful for kindness. Of +course he knew her to be badly frightened. At the Savoy, +for a few minutes, under the influence of gay surroundings +and champagne, there had been, as he thought, a +glimpse of the real woman—the coquette incarnate. It +had vanished, however, the moment he set his heavy hand +thereon. +</P> + +<P> +Now she sat before him in her Dresden china daintiness, +a picture of luxury, carefully tended down to her +very finger-nails. While she slept he had perused the +features that moved him so vitally—the well remembered +breadth of brow and pointedness of chin, the deep setting +of the shadowy eyes, the lines of the throat, the base of +which rose milky from its setting of misty chiffon. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as she stirred, he returned to his blue foolscap. +Now she was returning his compliment—studying him. +</P> + +<P> +Reluctantly she found that experience was confirming +the judgment she had formed instantaneously at Hertford +House. She did not like her husband's face, and could +hardly say why this was so, since in a virile, somewhat +rough-hewn fashion, his features were good. She was +just saying to herself, "It is the expression that is wrong; +it must be the expression," when he raised his head, met +her eyes, and smiled in the way she was learning to dislike. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, don't you think I am an ideal husband?" he +asked. +</P> + +<P> +She answered his smile. "That remains to be seen," +she countered. +</P> + +<P> +"At least," he said, "I fulfil the one essential condition, +don't I? The one thing needful for husbands?" +</P> + +<P> +"What is that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, a long purse, of course." +</P> + +<P> +She coloured warmly, and showed, by downcast eye and +close-pressed lips, how this wounded. She felt that she +had nothing to say in reply, except a low, reproachful, +"Oh!" in the shock of such an unkindness. +</P> + +<P> +"Not very tactful of me, was it, to taunt you with the +amiable weakness which has procured me the lifelong +privilege of your society?" +</P> + +<P> +"Amiable weakness?" she repeated vaguely. +</P> + +<P> +"The woman's desire for physical comforts, luxury, +and so on, at any cost." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," murmured Virgie, "I don't think—indeed, I'm +sure you don't understand." +</P> + +<P> +"No? We must discuss the matter at greater length; +but as I told you this morning, I dislike talking in the +train. We shall be at Luton in a minute, and I telegraphed +for a tea-basket." +</P> + +<P> +The train slowed down as he spoke. He rose, leaned +from the window, and took the tray from the boy who +was waiting on the platform. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia poured out the tea, and dispensed the bread +and butter and cake with a sinking heart. +</P> + +<P> +Of all the things she had anticipated, unkindness from +her newly made husband had been farthest from her +thoughts. Her maiden terrors had concerned themselves +in the opposite direction. She had feared demonstrative +display of feeling which as yet she must be unable to +reciprocate. His attitude froze her timid efforts to make +friends. The remaining words that passed between them +during the journey were negligible, except for once, when +he looked up suddenly—they were passing a lonely +stretch of moorland, and he had been gazing from the window—and +said: +</P> + +<P> +"So you think you will like living in the country?" +</P> + +<P> +"I know I shall. I have always lived in the country," +she replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Not with me," was his comment, while a faint smile +crossed his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"No. Not with you," was her gentle answer. +</P> + +<P> +She wanted to speak to him, to tell him how well she +meant to keep her new-made vows, that though her marriage +was, as he must know, a marriage of convenience, +she intended to do her duty to the utmost limit of her +powers. But he said he did not like talking in the train; +and her spirits were so exhausted that she dare not risk a +breakdown. She remained, therefore, rapt in the silence +which seemed the sole alternative, until they reached their +journey's end. +</P> + +<P> +A brougham awaited them, drawn by a pair of fine +horses. There followed a drive of more than five miles +through country which grew each moment wilder and +more beautiful. They came at last to a pine wood, set +among swelling uplands. A lodge gate here flanked the +road, and as the lodge-keeper's child opened it, and +touched his forelock, Virginia guessed that they were in +their own domain. +</P> + +<P> +The trees were so thick and dark as to produce a premature +twilight. Through this they drove for the best +part of a mile. The name of Omberleigh could be well +understood. It was, indeed, a place of shadows. The +house stood in the depths of the wood, so far as the side +from which they approached was concerned. It was a +Georgian house, straight and square, with a classic porch +of grey stone, supported upon columns. +</P> + +<P> +The house door stood open, and revealed a dark hall, +somewhat untidy, and furnished with big black cupboards, +surmounted by foxes' masks, antlers, and stuffed fish. On +its shabby turkey carpet stood an elderly man-servant, a +middle-aged parlourmaid, and a grey-haired woman who +was presumably a cook-housekeeper. All of them looked +as though they were patiently trying to grapple with undeserved +calamity in the shape of a new mistress. +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Wells, this is my wife," said Gaunt, in tones +that sounded as if he were trying to conceal his triumph. +</P> + +<P> +"I am sure I wish you joy, ma'am," replied Mrs. +Wells, with an implied despair of the fulfilment of any +such wish. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia was used to a large household. She slipped +off her glove, and shook hands kindly with Mrs. Wells. +"Thank you so much. I am sure I shall be happy in this +beautiful place," said she cordially. +</P> + +<P> +"This is Hemming, who has been with me a great +many years," went on Gaunt, indicating the man-servant, +who murmured, "Namely fifteen," as he glanced at the +fair creature standing there, who looked, as he afterwards +remarked, like a fairy strayed in from the woods. +</P> + +<P> +"And this is Grover, who will wait upon you," he went +on. "Grover, you had better take Mrs. Gaunt straight +upstairs. Hemming, let the men carry up the luggage +into Mrs. Gaunt's room forthwith." +</P> + +<P> +"This way, ma'am," said Grover, distantly. She took +the dust-cloak which Virgie had slipped off, flashing a +glance of reluctant admiration as she did so at the pretty +frock displayed. The staircase was on the dark side of +the house, and the corridor above seemed very sombre to +the girl as she followed her guide. +</P> + +<P> +Her bedroom was big and old-fashioned, with three high +sash windows, set deep in the walls. This lay on the +other side of the house, and the bride stepped forward into +the full glory of a sunset, far over land which sloped away +downward in a wide prospect. The aspect of this side of +the house was south with a touch of west. +</P> + +<P> +Grover was pleased at the involuntary cry of pleasure +which the new mistress gave as she went to one of the +windows and gazed out. She thawed a little as she +pointed out to the eager girl the fine hill which was the +pride of their part of the county, Gladby Top. +</P> + +<P> +The men brought up the boxes, and by the time she had +arrayed Virginia in the frock which young Mr. Bent so +much admired in Bryanston Square, Grover had laid aside +the greater part of her resentment, and was inclined to +think that very few of the neighbouring families could +show anything in the way of a bride approaching the quality +of the specimen just brought to Omberleigh. +</P> + +<P> +"You can excuse him and understand him, if you take +what I mean," she said later on in the kitchen. "Most +times there's really no knowing what it is as takes their +fancy when they get to his age. But with her—well, I +don't see how he could help himself! If she was to be +had, right he was to snap her up. What seems odd to me +is that she should have taken him, for you can see she's a +tip-topper—none of your soap-makers' daughters, but +real gentry." +</P> + +<P> +Grover showed the bride downstairs into the drawing-room +with an uncomfortable feeling that it was not an +adequate setting for so fair and youthful a presence. Virginia +had not lingered over her dressing, and found that +there was half an hour yet before the dinner would be +served. She stood in the long, bare room, probably last +re-furnished in the '60's, and gazed about her forlornly. +This room was on the sunny side of the house, and its +windows opened upon a paved terrace with an Italian +balustrade in stone. +</P> + +<P> +She strayed across the Brussels carpet to the window, +and stood there gazing out upon the falling slopes of a +garden—yes, a garden—but as it seemed to her a somewhat +bare one. There was just enough bedding-out to +make a meagre display; but when she thought of the +flaming herbaceous flowers which ought to fill those long +border edgings, of the Alpine plants which ought to bloom +from every cleft in those limestone walls, she sighed at +the thought of wasted opportunities. The tastes of the +master of the house were not for horticulture, it appeared. +</P> + +<P> +The thought of his sneer at her for a mercenary marriage +rushed to her mind. This husband—this stranger—what +manner of man was he? What was to be her fate +at his hands? The doubt and terror turned her blood to +water. She put her two hands to her throat to keep down +the swelling sobs. Then she turned swiftly, instinctively +backward, and saw that Gaunt had noiselessly entered, and +stood just behind her. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, "it is done now. The trap has closed +behind you, and you cannot get out. What do you think +of your life-sentence?" +</P> + +<P> +A sudden determination came to her not to show fear. +His manner was that of one grimly jesting. She answered +playfully, "I think my jailer likes to tease." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he went on, "you walked into the snare with +your eyes open. You knew nothing of me, did you, beyond +the one glorious fact that I am rich? Nothing else +mattered. My negligence, my rudeness, my neglect, could +not drive you from your purpose. True daughter of Virginia +Sheringham, you have made your bed, and now you +must lie upon it." +</P> + +<P> +His wife's eyes flashed, and her answer came clearly. +"Pardon me! You say that I knew nothing of you but +that you were rich. That is not true. I knew that you +were a man of whom my own mother thought so well that +she engaged herself to marry you. I knew also—or +guessed—that you were lonely and unhappy. I could +see that you were—lame." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" he cut her off short. "You have the assurance +to tell me to my face that my infirmity was a reason +for your marrying me? You thought that you could +elude the vigilance of a lame man—was that it? But +though I limp I am no cripple. In fact, I am particularly +active—active enough to guard you very carefully, +as I warn you." +</P> + +<P> +Bewildered, roused to hot indignation though she now +was, Virginia felt her spirits rise defiant to meet this +bullying tone. "A husband should guard his wife, and +I hope you will guard me," she replied promptly, "but +you speak as though you intended to hold me captive. +What do you mean by that?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean," he said, measuring his words, and keeping +his eyes steadily upon her, "to undertake the task of your +reformation. I am going to turn you into something +human—into a feeling, breathing, and, if necessary, a +suffering woman. I am going to take away your false +standards, to humble your vanity, to mortify your avarice. +You shall see yourself, Virginia Gaunt, as you really are! +Your outward beauty, upon which you trade, as your +mother traded, is nothing to me but a whip, reminding me +of the fool I was in my youth. I saw you first, using +your lure, casting your net, hoping to secure young Rosenberg +as your escape from poverty and debt. You nearly +succeeded; you would have succeeded had not your friend +belonged to a race which likes to have its money's-worth. +You blush—yes, that shows the truth of my surmise. +He would doubtless have been a more congenial solution +of your problem than I; but he, alas, was not available! +So you took me! And so you were very careful about the +settlements! But there were things for which you forgot +to stipulate—and those you must learn to do without!" +</P> + +<P> +She was white now. Only her force of will kept her +upon her feet. The insulting words stormed at her brain, +and filled her with despair. +</P> + +<P> +"You say this to me—<i>to your wife</i>. Is it fair, do +you think?... I have not deceived you. You never +asked me to give you love. I mean to keep my promises, +without the goad of threats.... If—if I did wrong, in +accepting what you offered, I am sorry. I want to do my +duty, if you will help me ... but don't make it too—difficult." +</P> + +<P> +"Excellent!" he commented. "A picture of wifely +submission! We shall make something of you yet—perhaps +in time. Meanwhile, it is as well to warn you that +yours is to be no life of luxury. You must work, my girl—work, +do you hear?" +</P> + +<P> +"That will be nothing new," she replied tremulously. +"I am used to hard work." +</P> + +<P> +He laughed out. She looked like a creature whom the +weariness of toil had never touched. He was so convinced +of her idleness and frivolity that he could see nothing else. +</P> + +<P> +"Work? You look like it. Your mother looks like it +too. She fluttered into her Dover Street Club, clad like +Solomon in all his glory, and with no more concern about +the cost of her finery than the lilies of the field. The only +work that women like you understand is how to spend +money. That's your vocation, the business of your life! +How to catch some man and wring from him the means +to indulge your desires." +</P> + +<P> +He was mounted on his hobby now, and his words came +with a sudden fluency for which his previous taciturnity +made her unprepared. "She was quite young—young +enough to have been unworldly, you would have thought—when +she jilted a poor man to marry a rich one. In +spite of that innocent exterior, she was as clever as a pickpocket, +as cautious as a Jew. Afterwards I remembered +how carefully she had questioned me as to the likelihood +of my coming into this property. There was a life between +me and it. She was not taking any chances!... +But, after all, the life failed. I came into my inheritance +not so many years after my jilting ... and, by the Lord! +when she was a needy widow and I was a rich man, she +would have married me, had I so much as held up a finger. +Do you deny it?" +</P> + +<P> +Virginia could hardly breathe. If the hands she had +clutched when drowning had contracted about her throat +and held her down under water, she might have felt something +the same consternation. Love! Love at first sight! +Why, the man loathed her. +</P> + +<P> +"But," she brought out breathlessly, "if this—if this +is what you think of me, why—why have you married +me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll tell you why. I married because I am siren-proof, +and I am going to reform you. You're young; +you may not be irreclaimable. We'll see if I can change +your nature; but if I can't do that, I swear I will control +your actions. For the first time in your life, you are +going to be disciplined. The starting-point for your training +is that you should be completely cut off from your +past. Therefore, you will not again see any of the members +of your family, either here, or elsewhere. You need +not look so incredulous. I carry out the things I undertake. +Don't suppose you can escape from me." +</P> + +<P> +The hatred in his voice was the outcome of twenty years +of morbid egotism. The very atrocity of his amazing +tirade helped his wife to rally. All her dignity, all her +good breeding, came now to her support. +</P> + +<P> +She spoke low but steadily. "It is true that I cannot +escape. I bound myself this morning, by vows which to +me are more binding than cords. But let me remind you +that you also took vows—to love and to cherish." +</P> + +<P> +He bowed ironically. "Oh, be sure that I shall cherish +my piece of perfection," he replied, "and, when I have +broken her to harness, I may reward her with my affection." +</P> + +<P> +Her face, as she met his look, merited study. She had +found a source of consolation in her misery—the consciousness +of her own immense height above him. Terror, +which had been succeeded by disgust, now disappeared +altogether in sheer contempt. +</P> + +<P> +"You have made us quits," she said simply. "This +morning I felt myself under a great weight of obligation. +Now you have paid yourself in full, paid yourself in insult +to a helpless woman." +</P> + +<P> +"Take care! Take care what you say to me!" he +cried, swayed by a tumult of inexplicable feeling. +</P> + +<P> +She made no answer. Only she faced him, no longer +afraid, but coldly critical. Her look was almost pitying. +As they stood confronted, the man had a curious experience. +Her wonderful likeness to her mother vanished +utterly, and he saw a woman strange to him not only in +person but in type—a type as yet unknown. +</P> + +<P> +There was a pause, which was broken by the roll of the +gong in the hall. Gaunt started. Hemming threw open +the door and announced dinner. +</P> + +<P> +Caught at such a moment, the master of the house, to +his annoyance, was taken aback and hesitated. His wife +did not seem to share his embarrassment. With her head +held high she advanced the few steps which separated +them, and laid her hand upon his arm. +</P> + +<P> +Together they walked out into the hall, under the respectful +but close observation of the butler, and entered +the dining-room, a dark and gloomy apartment, on the +wooded north side of the house. +</P> + +<P> +Here dinner was laid, in the style of a half-century ago. +</P> + +<P> +To Gaunt's surprise, his wife began to talk almost at +once. She spoke of the glorious view from the window +of her room, inquired the height of Gladby Top, and +mentioned her own taste for gardening. After a few +minutes of moody uncertainty, Gaunt joined in her +attempt to keep up appearances; and it was not until Hemming +and Grover had placed dessert upon the table and +left the room that the inevitable silence fell. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER X +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +ANDROMEDA +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>Up she looked, down she looked, round at the mead,<BR> + Straight at the castle, that's best indeed<BR> + To look at, from outside the walls....<BR> + And up, like a weary yawn, with its pulleys,<BR> + Went, in a shriek, the rusty portcullis;<BR> + And, like a glad sky the north wind sullies,<BR> + The lady's face stopped its play<BR> + As if her first hair had grown grey</i>."—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Browning</SPAN>.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The final closing of the door upon Hemming, as he +discreetly retired, seemed to the bride to fill the gloomy +room with reverberations. The door was not banged, yet +she heard its echoing dying away like a murmur in +cavernous heights. She had an illusion of being in some +dark sea-cave, into which the tide would slowly crawl and +swallow her up. Her feet were cold, as though the first +shallow waves already laved them. +</P> + +<P> +All through the dinner she had been putting a strain +upon herself. She was now near the breaking-point. +Gaunt was pouring wine from the heavy, stumpy cut-glass +decanter into a wine-glass. She heard the lip of the bottle +clink, as though his hand were not quite steady. +</P> + +<P> +As usual in moments of stress her appetite had forsaken +her. She had seemed to help herself to the various dishes, +and had played with her knife and fork, so that Gaunt, +from his end of the table, did not notice that she ate +practically nothing. Before leaving the room, Hemming +had handed her a dish of fine strawberries. These she felt +she could eat. She took some cream, broke the fruit +with a fork, and ate with thankfulness that she had some +mechanical process with which to fill in this hollow pause +before the commencement of what she felt might be definite +hostilities. +</P> + +<P> +The moments lengthened. He did not speak nor raise +his eyes; but as soon as she laid down her spoon, he lifted +his head, and said abruptly: +</P> + +<P> +"Come here!" +</P> + +<P> +Virgie jumped. The attack was indeed sudden. For +a moment she wavered, then rose and moved noiseless +down the length of the floor, along the edge of the table, +until she stood beside him. +</P> + +<P> +He leaned back, contemplating her. More than ever +she looked like the princess in a fairy-tale. Her dress was +cut and fashioned with the mystic skill that belongs to very +few of the daughters of our race. It was subtle; it had a +disturbing effect. There was a general impression of +charm—elusive and faintly fragrant—of a finished +work of art, from the curve of the soft hair to the satin of +the small shoes. +</P> + +<P> +"You are quite as good an actress as I supposed," remarked +her husband, with satisfaction. +</P> + +<P> +She pondered this for a minute. Then: "You mean +that I kept up appearances before the servants? That is +second nature with me, I think—hardly acting. But I +thought I was doing what you would wish?" +</P> + +<P> +He placed his hands upon the table edge, pushing his +chair back slightly on its hind legs, while he looked up at +her. Again he had the air of one who grimly jests. +</P> + +<P> +"Excellent! A wife who actually foresees her husband's +wishes, and acts accordingly! Yes, I suppose it is +best that it should be so. Pray continue to enliven my +meals with your pretty prattle." +</P> + +<P> +The colour sprang to her face at the gibe. "Perhaps +you will give me more efficient support next time," she said +quickly, speaking before reflecting. +</P> + +<P> +He laughed as though he had scored a point. "I think +I warned you against answering back," he softly reminded +her. +</P> + +<P> +She looked him full in the eyes—a look which apparently +infuriated him. With a sudden forward movement +he caught her by the waist, dragging her down upon his +knee. "Here, drink to our good health and future happiness!" +he cried, pushing the glass of wine towards her. +</P> + +<P> +The unlooked-for assault made her so faint that she +knew the wine would do her good, help her to maintain her +self-command in this ghastly situation. She sat where he +placed her, took the glass from his hand with both hers, +and lifted it to her lips. "I drink to your good health," +she said with dignity. +</P> + +<P> +He gave a wrathful exclamation, snatched the glass from +her, so that the remainder of the wine was shot over the +carpet, and said: "Little hypocrite! You would sooner +drink to my death!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no," said she, "I desire your health. You are a +very sick man just now, in mind if not in body." +</P> + +<P> +"Sick or well, I am your husband—in sickness or in +health, you know." +</P> + +<P> +She answered patiently. "Yes; I know. I am not +likely to forget." +</P> + +<P> +She took out a tiny handkerchief, wiping her trembling +lips with it. The action drew his attention to the tourmalin +ring she wore above her wedding-ring. He snatched +at her hand, pulled off the ring, and flung it into the heart +of the fire which glowed dully afar off in the old-fashioned +steel grate, for the day had not been warm. +</P> + +<P> +"An end of that," he said. "I only used it to get it +out of your mother's hands." +</P> + +<P> +She drew in her breath in a long sigh, but made no +other demonstration, though she felt her head swim. He +was holding her with both hands, and his touch seemed as +if it seared. He looked as if he longed to provoke some +sign of acute feeling. +</P> + +<P> +"You are proud," he said, under his breath. "Proud +as Lucifer. But I'll tame your pride." +</P> + +<P> +There seemed no answer to this, and she attempted none. +</P> + +<P> +"You are going to be the passive martyr, the persecuted +victim, are you?" he went on. "That is the rôle you +select? But don't try me too far, or you may provoke me +to <i>make</i> you show yourself in your true colours." +</P> + +<P> +She raised her hands to her mouth with a little moan. +"Oh!" she faltered, shaken with the storm of her +wounded heart. "Isn't it enough for you to know me +broken? Must you see the tears and hear the cries before +you can be satisfied? Well, you will—very soon. I—don't +feel as if I can bear much more. But to-night you +have hit too hard. You have blunted all feeling. I <i>could</i> +not care, whatever happened. I have got past that." +</P> + +<P> +With a sudden gasping for breath, she made an effort to +rise. For a moment he seemed minded to constrain her, +but almost immediately let her go. She stood, supporting +herself a moment against the corner of the table, then tried +a few uncertain steps, and collapsed softly in a little forlorn +heap of silk and gauze upon the carpet, midway to +the door. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt rose, his face dark with annoyance. This was +altogether so unlike his own forecasts of the scene that he +was bewildered. He had expected coaxings, blandishments, +the pleadings and wiles with which Virginia the +elder had made him so intimately acquainted. He remembered +how, when in the old days his sullen temper had +made him harsh, she had hung about him, how sweetly +and pathetically she had put him in the wrong, how deftly +she had smoothed his ruffled fur and achieved her own ends +whatever they were. +</P> + +<P> +Continually in his solitude, brooding over the wreck of +his life, he had told himself that now he knew, now he was +wise with the wisdom we garner from the fields of tragedy +and disappointment. He was proof against the sirens, his +ears were plugged with wool. Was he not the man to punish +and reform a coquette? +</P> + +<P> +He went and stood over Virginia; then knelt at her side, +passed an arm under her, and arranged her in a more easy +posture. She was in a dead faint. He stared doubtfully, +rose, haltingly crossed the room, and laid his fingers upon +the bell. He did not ring it. His hand fell away; he +went to the table, poured some water into a glass, knelt and +dabbed her temples. She did not move. +</P> + +<P> +After a minute or two he rose, went softly to the door +and peered out into the hall. There was no sound of +Hemming or the coffee. Turning back he stooped, lifted +Virgie with ease, carried her into the drawing-room, laid +her on a sofa near the window, and opened the casement +wide upon the night. The fresh, strong air revived her. +She opened her eyes, and looking upward, saw the canopy +of stars in the deep-blue velvet heavens. +</P> + +<P> +Slowly coming back to the realisation of the present +moment, she turned her head, and saw Gaunt stooping over +the hearth, placing a fresh log upon the fire. She sat up, +sick and shivering. He looked round quickly at her movement, +but turned away again and did not speak. He stood +gazing down at the leaping flames in brooding silence; +then, facing about with one of his sudden, flinging movements, +which sent her heart into her mouth, he marched +across the room, opened the grand piano and sat down. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia was conscious of great astonishment as he began +to play. It was wild, Hungarian music, leaping and +striking like lightning flashes. But it seemed the one +thing she could have borne at the moment. With a sigh +of utter fatigue, she let her head droop against the hard, +uncompromising cushion of the old-fashioned sofa and +listened. He had been playing about ten minutes, when +Hemming and the coffee came in; and Virginia was able +to sit up and help herself with composure. +</P> + +<P> +"Hemming," said Gaunt, as the servant was leaving the +room, "Mrs. Gaunt is overtired. Tell Grover she will be +coming upstairs almost at once." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +The man departed, and again the closing of the door +awoke those faint, mysterious reverberations which were +like the last contact of the outside world with the tragedy +of the isolated and rock-chained maiden. So might +Andromeda have felt, when the smith had hammered into +place the last rivet of her fetters, and she was left—left +helpless and in an anguish of suspense, to await the oncoming +of the monster. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt drank his coffee seated upon the piano-stool. +Then he set down his cup and began once more to play. +This time it was soft and gentle, a lullaby, like falling +water. It brought the tears rushing to Virginia's eyes, so +that she hid her face against the cushions, and covered her +mouth to suppress her crying. +</P> + +<P> +Oh for just one moment of the clinging of Pansy's arms; +of the bear's hug from a leaping boy in pyjamas, declining +to go to bed tractably, wasting his sister's time in the +fashion in which she loved to have it wasted! What were +they all doing now, at this hour? Caroline, the new maid, +was just bringing up Pansy's cup of Benger's food. Was +it properly made?—"thin, but not too thin," like Mr. +Woodhouse's gruel? Virgie had taken pains to show Caroline +exactly how to do it. She had seemed to understand. +</P> + +<P> +Were they missing their sister? Would Pansy—intolerable +thought—cry for Virgie's good-night kiss and +tuck-in? Oh, no, surely not! They would all be lapped +in their new comfort and security. They would be better +cared for than she, with all her goodwill, had been able to +accomplish, unsupported by funds. +</P> + +<P> +Yet, oh, to be back, with that burden hanging over her +as of old! To take up and shoulder the weight that had +been crushing her, even if to do so meant death—a +maiden death, a blessed release from this hard, difficult +world. +</P> + +<P> +She grasped, she clutched at the only consolation she +had. Her present agony of terror and apprehension was +just the price she had to pay for their safety and welfare. +She had determined to pay it, and she would carry out her +resolve. She must not flinch because it was turning out so +much worse than she had thought possible. What did it +matter—what <i>could</i> it matter, what became of her? +They were happy and secure; Gaunt was tightly bound +down to go on helping them, even in the case of her own +death. She felt so weak, so scared that night, that she +thought for the first time in all her life of death as a thing +which might conceivably happen to herself. +</P> + +<P> +"What is the use of minding," she whispered, trying +to reassure herself. "It doesn't matter—nobody but me +will ever know." +</P> + +<P> +Her sobbing ceased. Something in the music helped to +soothe it. The flutter of harmonious notes was like the +beating of wings. It suggested the flight of wild birds. +She thought of the swans which used to cross the sky in +autumn at Lissendean, flying to seek new spheres for themselves. +There came to her mind that story of Hans +Andersen, in which the princess has to weave coats of +nettles for the princes, her brothers, in order to break the +spell that binds them. Should she not gladly plait her +nettle-coats, endure her doom, to lift from those two beloved +heads the evil spell of poverty and sickness? +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +The music stopped. +</P> + +<P> +With it, her thoughts ceased as if shivered suddenly to +fragments. +</P> + +<P> +Her husband rose from the piano. Her heart was in +her mouth, and she found herself shuddering in a panic +terror which drove out every other sensation. He came up +and stood looking at her, with a somewhat resentful expression. +</P> + +<P> +"You seem quite done up," he observed. "You had +better go to bed and to sleep. A good night's rest is what +you want. To-morrow let us hope you will be more fit +to take up your new duties." +</P> + +<P> +She raised her wet eyes with a glance of incredulous +gratitude. "I am sorry I gave way," she murmured. +"I am not usually so weak. But you see, a great deal has +happened ... and I hardly slept at all last night, and I +am very tired." Slowly she stood up, eagerly but silently +questioning him. +</P> + +<P> +After a moment's embarrassment she held out her hand. +He drew his own from his pocket to present in return. +Half contemptuously, he threw a glance at the little girlish +fingers lying in his square brown palm. "I'll give you +another ring," he said brusquely, "but I couldn't stand +seeing you wear that other. When we meet to-morrow +morning, I hope you will be rested. Good night. Off +with you." +</P> + +<P> +She needed no second bidding. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +A FIRST EXPERIENCE +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>Living alone in an empty house<BR> + Here half hid in the gleaming wood, ...<BR> + Till a morbid hate and horror have grown<BR> + Of a world in which I have hardly mixt,<BR> + And a morbid, eating lichen fixt<BR> + On a heart half turned to stone.</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Tennyson.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It seemed to Virginia, as she let her limbs relax in the +big, downy old bed, as though she never could sleep again. +Somewhere in that silent house couched the Monster, as +yet inert, but one day to awake, one day to rise before her +as she cowered there chained to her rock. The very silence +seemed full of breathings, the whispering of the trees outside +her window was like a stealthy approach. How could +sleep visit her? Yet youth exhausted will have its way, +and she had not been laid to rest more than half an hour +when she was in a profound and tranquil slumber, which +lasted without a break until she was called next morning. +</P> + +<P> +Grover had drawn back the curtains, and her room was +full of sunshine. The maid brought her tea to the bedside, +and smiled as though she could not help smiling at the +angelic little face in its tumbled golden halo. +</P> + +<P> +"Dear me, ma'am, if you'll pardon the liberty, it does +seem that odd to have a lady in this house," said she +benevolently. +</P> + +<P> +"Why? Does Mr. Gaunt not have many visitors?" +asked Virgie drowsily. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, never ladies, ma'am! Why, ever since I came, no +lady has stayed in this house—no, nor so much as dined! +What is it they call the master in these parts—it means +one that hates women?" +</P> + +<P> +"Misogynist?" said Virgie. "Have I married a +misogynist?" +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed, ma'am; it's high time he was cured. A fine +man like him, strong and in the prime of life. We've all +wished it, many a time! And cured he could not help but +be, once he had seen you, as we all agreed last night," was +the flattering verdict, given rather timidly. +</P> + +<P> +The bride coloured, but did not seem offended. She +raised herself on her elbow and ate her morsel of toast, asking +Grover various questions. +</P> + +<P> +"Our courtship has been so short, I know nothing about +his home life," she said. "But this seems to be a very +pretty place." +</P> + +<P> +"Pretty indeed, and a different house it will be when +once you get it going, and full of friends, ma'am. Of +course, they all say he was disappointed in love as a young +man, ma'am, and that is why he dislikes the poor ladies so +much. I expect, however, you know a good bit more about +that than what I do." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Virgie, "I know all about that." She +sighed. "I hope I shall do right," she remarked, "but +gentlemen who live alone grow very set in their ways. +You must tell me of any little tastes or fancies he may +have." +</P> + +<P> +Grover laughed gaily as she gathered up the tea-things +and went to fill the bath. "You that can turn him round +your little finger, I'll be bound," she chuckled. +</P> + +<P> +The new mistress left her in this pleasing delusion, and +lay back upon her pillows with a sigh. If she could but +have the whole day in bed, she thought wistfully. A long +day's rest, after her good sleep, would set her up once more. +At this moment her one desire was to snuggle down in the +safe refuge of the bedclothes, and remain there utterly +passive and inert. +</P> + +<P> +She appeared, however, punctually in the dining-room +when the gong for breakfast sounded. +</P> + +<P> +The meal was set in the old-fashioned way, the tea and +coffee service before the mistress, the hot dishes at the other +end. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt was standing with an open newspaper in his +hand near the window. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, "did you sleep?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, thank you, I did." +</P> + +<P> +She came up and shook hands. He eyed her keenly. +This was the first time he had seen her in morning dress. +Her white linen was simple and fresh, and she was +daintily neat; but there were blue shadows under the melting +eyes, and a sad droop of the mouth which spoke of +dejection. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, sit down, and pour out my coffee," he said, +limping quickly to his own place. "We have much to +get through to-day. You must go and see Mrs. Wells, +and give the orders for the day." He added, with his +"bad smile": "If you are not very good at housekeeping, +I don't envy you. She will think very small beer of you." +</P> + +<P> +"It is two years since I had the management of a large +house," was the gentle reply, "but I do not think I have +forgotten. London housekeeping would seem more difficult +to me." +</P> + +<P> +He looked at her, puzzled. "But your mother kept +house at Lissendean, I presume?" +</P> + +<P> +"N-no, I don't think mother ever kept house," said +Virgie doubtfully. "She used to have a first-rate housekeeper +who managed everything when we were little. +But afterwards, when I grew up, we were becoming so +much poorer, that I told father to dismiss the housekeeper +and save her wages, because I thought I could manage. It +was wonderful," she added reminiscently, "how much we +saved then." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps your father was not as particular about his +food as I am," he remarked sourly. +</P> + +<P> +"I expect Mrs. Wells knows your likes and dislikes, does +she not? If she will help me for the first few weeks, I +think I can manage to please you," was the courteous +rejoinder. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt laid down his knife and fork to contemplate her. +"In some ways," he said slowly, "it appears that you do +<i>not</i> resemble your mother." +</P> + +<P> +"Who? I? Oh, no, I am not a bit like mother, except +in looks," calmly replied Virgie. "Did you suppose I +was? She is social and I am domestic. She likes going +out, and I like home. I am shy with strangers, and she +never is." After a minute's thought, she added: "You +see, ever since I grew up, I have known the seamy side of +things—trouble, losing father, and poverty. I suppose +it has made me dull." +</P> + +<P> +The man glowered upon her fixedly as she sat, with an +empty plate, sipping her cup of tea. +</P> + +<P> +"You're not eating," he threw out, at length. +</P> + +<P> +"I have not much appetite this morning," was her gentle +reply. +</P> + +<P> +"Eat!" he shouted, springing from his place and noting +with satisfaction her involuntary recoil. "Come, what's +it to be? Kidney and mushroom, eggs, ham—what?" +</P> + +<P> +She grew pink with distress. "Please, no," she +pleaded. "I—I can't manage it. I—I simply can't +swallow." +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense!" he declared loudly. "No airs and graces +here, please. What will you have?" He held his fork +poised above the dishes. There was an electric silence, +and he thought she was going to rebel openly. But, after +a brief struggle, she commanded herself. +</P> + +<P> +"An egg, please." +</P> + +<P> +He rose, brought her the egg and the toast rack. She +thanked him carefully, and he seemed to retire behind his +paper. But, after some silence, he abruptly flung it down. +</P> + +<P> +"If you don't eat what you have there, I'll come and +stand over you," he threatened. +</P> + +<P> +He was obeyed then, though with a most evident effort. +</P> + +<P> +"As soon as you have had your interview with Mrs. +Wells," said he, when she had finished, "I want to take +you round the farms. Be ready in the hall at ten-thirty +sharp." +</P> + +<P> +She rose. "Perhaps you will either show me the way +to the kitchens, or ring for one of the servants?" said she +rather stiffly. +</P> + +<P> +"Hoity toity!" cried her husband, stopping short to +gaze upon her. "We stand upon our dignity, don't we? +Come along. I'll show you." +</P> + +<P> +She followed him down the tiled passage, to the comfortable, +though not very extensive kitchen premises. +Omberleigh was not a large house, though the reception +rooms were spacious and dignified. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Mrs. Wells," he announced, "here's your new +tyrant. She fancies herself on her housekeeping, so I +expect there will be wigs on the green before very long. +But remember, if you quarrel you part; I am not going to +have any wranglings in my peaceful bachelor abode." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Wells evidently looked upon this speech as a particularly +choice specimen of humour. "Well, there now! I +never!" was her good-humoured comment. "If I can't +make friends with this young lady, sir, I think I shall +deserve to be turned out, if I have served you for a goodish +while. He thinks to tease you and me, ma'am, don't he?" +</P> + +<P> +The new mistress had a deft smile all ready. "Indeed, +Mrs. Wells, I think he is fond of teasing," she said; and, +as so often, the cadence of her voice reminded him unbearably +of the woman who had forsaken him, hardened his +heart, and drove him away, hostile and irritated. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Wells proceeded to make Virginia welcome. +Grover had evidently carried down a good report of the +new arrival. The housekeeper took her lady round dairy, +scullery, store-room and larder, and was soon impressed +with her thorough knowledge of the workings of a gentleman's +country household. +</P> + +<P> +"Bless me, to look at her you'd never think it!" she +declared afterwards. "Just like one of the coloured plates +in the fashion papers, or a wax doll with the paper just +off of it. But what she don't know about churning ain't +worth learning; and as to bread and cakes—why, you'd +think she had kept house all her life, and it's my belief +she has too—ever since she was old enough to have the +sense for it." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +At half-past ten, when Gaunt strolled into the hall, his +wife, in a shady hat and with a white sunshade, was +descending the stairs. Her unquestioning submission—the +punctuality which left him no ground for any kind of +complaint—was annoying. He felt that the ground was +being fairly cut away under his feet, and decided that he +must make it clear that a mere policy of yielding would not +exempt her from the discipline he meant to inflict. +</P> + +<P> +They left the house together and, turning to the left +among the thick pines, soon found a gate which let them +through into the sunny meadowland. +</P> + +<P> +They first visited the stables, the barnyards, and the +orchards. Then descending the slope, they came to the +cattle in the pastures. Beyond this again was cornland, +and the fields were beginning to grow faintly golden with +the promise of harvest. +</P> + +<P> +Mindful of his sneer at her "prattle" Virginia said +little; but he could not but recognise, from what she did +say, that she knew what she was talking about. She asked +one or two questions about his manures, which touched +upon the very point that just now interested him keenly. +He was almost as much surprised as if she had begun to +speak to him in Arabic. More clearly than ever he was +beginning to perceive that this was not by any means the +woman he had expected. Yet he hardened his heart. He +gazed upon her elegance, her fragility, her Dresden china +fairness, and told himself she was merely cleverer than he +had foreseen. The agricultural interest was just a pose, +meant to conciliate him. She had, apparently, more than +one weapon up her sleeve. She intended his conquest, +and was planning her campaign accordingly. As for him, +he felt as a man may who has been taught only English +methods of self-defence when confronted for the first time +with a professor of Jiu-jitsu. +</P> + +<P> +He had planned for himself the gratification of breaking +in to a life of country solitude a second Virginia Sheringham. +He had thought that he knew and understood the +methods which would be most effective. He had his victim +in his power, but behold! It was not merely not +Virginia Sheringham, it was nobody in the least like her. +More than once already he had been visited by the notion +that he was behaving like a brute, that he was bullying a +defenceless thing. Such a thought was intolerable. It +simply could not be true. If it were, what outcome to the +situation was there? No. It was not true. This submissiveness, +this helpless passivity, was merely the policy +of <i>reculer pour mieux sauter</i>. She had some desperate +plan in her head—meant, perhaps, to escape? He must +be ready. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile, they had tramped for nearly two hours, and +Virginia's powers were giving out. The day was a fine +one, and it was the hottest hour. When they reached a +stile, overshadowed by the grateful coolness of a huge beech +tree in the corner of a lately mown field, she sat down and +begged for a few minutes' rest. +</P> + +<P> +"What, done up again? You don't seem to be very +strong. We are two miles from home, and if we wait +about we shall be late for lunch. Come along now, you +can rest when we get back." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want any lunch," she answered faintly, "but +I must rest. Please go on and have lunch yourself, and +leave me here awhile in the shade." +</P> + +<P> +"Ha!" he said, delighted at this confirmation of his +thoughts. "No, young woman, I think it safer to keep +my eye on you." +</P> + +<P> +She made no reply in words. Her eyes were closed, and +two tears forced their way beneath the lids and slipped +down her cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +He made an exclamation of vexation. "Not good for +much, are you?" he grunted. "Comes of eating no breakfast. +What am I going to do with you now, I wonder? +Why didn't you call a halt before you were completely done +for?" +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't think we should go so far," she answered listlessly. +She was beyond caring how he felt. She only +knew that she could not get up and go on. +</P> + +<P> +The sound of trotting hoofs approaching along the lane +beyond the stile was heard. A dog-cart, driven by a pleasant-looking +young man, came in sight. +</P> + +<P> +"Good luck!" muttered Gaunt. He raised his voice. +"Hallo, Caunter! My wife has been making the rounds +with me, and is a bit done up by the heat. Will you get +down, and let me drive her home?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, certainly," said a good-humoured voice, "only +too much honoured. May I beg to be presented to Mrs. +Gaunt?" +</P> + +<P> +"Virginia, this is Caunter, my bailiff," said Gaunt, concealing +his unwillingness as best he could. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia sat up, opened her eyes and summoned a smile. +Young Caunter had descended from the trap, and stood by +the stile. As his eyes fell upon the bride, they widened +with very spontaneous surprise and admiration. +</P> + +<P> +"I say, this is luck to meet you, to be the first to wish +you joy, Mrs. Gaunt," he said boyishly. "My chief is +hugely to be congratulated." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," said the pale bride, "it is kind of you to say that! +But you ought to say he is to be pitied, when I behave in +this weak way! I am usually quite a good walker." +</P> + +<P> +Caunter fixed his eyes intently upon the quickly changing +colour, and marked the faltering voice. "I've got my +flask in my pocket," he said hesitatingly to Gaunt, who +nodded and held out his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"A thimbleful of brandy will be the best thing for you," +said he, bending over his wife with the cup. "Drink +that!" +</P> + +<P> +As usual, she obeyed without dispute. Her colour came +back by degrees as the two men exchanged a few sentences +about the land. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you feel well enough now to let me drive you +back?" asked Gaunt presently. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, of course. Thank you very much, Mr. +Caunter." She held out the cup to its owner as she spoke +the words, lifting her appealing chin, and giving him a +smile such as he had thought existed only in romances. +</P> + +<P> +The husband marked the emotions which expressed +themselves in his bailiff's honest countenance. He noticed +also the simplicity and unconsciousness of his wife's +expression. Nothing he could take hold of. +</P> + +<P> +He crossed the stile, helped her over, put her into the +cart, got in himself and gathered up the reins. +</P> + +<P> +"Better get up behind, Hugh," said he. +</P> + +<P> +Caunter reddened slightly and hung back. These two +were married only yesterday. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you had better. I don't want to have to stable +your mare till you come for her," bade his master. +</P> + +<P> +He yielded and jumped up. +</P> + +<P> +With a tact which spoke well for him, he said a few +words to Gaunt as they drove, until the quick motion +through the air revived Virginia completely, and she began +to ask one or two eager questions about the neighbourhood. +He found himself speaking of the beauties of Dovedale, of +the weird limestone caverns of the Peak, and of the Druid +circle at Arbor Low. She was interested. To Caunter it +seemed but a minute before they stood at the drive gate of +Omberleigh. His head was whirling. He jumped down +to open the gate, and said: +</P> + +<P> +"If you don't mind, I will leave you to take Mrs. Gaunt +to the door. I want to speak to Emerson." +</P> + +<P> +He opened the gate, and was about to disappear into the +lodge, which was occupied by the head gardener, when +Gaunt called him back for some message with regard to +cucumbers. As he was speaking, bending down over the +side of the cart, the sound of horse's feet upon the road +became audible, and a rider hove in sight, who drew rein +promptly and shouted a greeting. +</P> + +<P> +He was a somewhat showy young man, with a chestnut +moustache and eyes set too close together. He rode a fine +beast, and was got up in leggings and cord breeches. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, hang me if it isn't true!" he cried hilariously. +"They told me you had been taken prisoner, Gaunt, and +I refused to believe it. Bet Charlie Myers two to one +against, down at the Market Hall yesterday. But"—raising +his hat, and riding up close to Virginia—"when +one sees the lady, the whole thing becomes clear. Poor +old chap! you never had a chance. Present me, won't +you?" +</P> + +<P> +"This is Mr. Ferris, whose land is not far from here," +said Gaunt. "My wife, Ferris." +</P> + +<P> +"But this is simply grand," declared Ferris. "My +wife will be ready to eat you, Mrs. Gaunt. Never, since +your husband came to these parts, has she been allowed +inside his doors. I say, Gaunt, you'll have to keep your +door on the chain nowadays to bar out the women, you +will, by Jove! They'll simply roll up. When may Joey +come and pay her respects? Give her the start, won't +you?" +</P> + +<P> +To Virginia's surprise, Gaunt's manners were equal to +an occasion which she could see was very disagreeable to +him. +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Ferris must give us time," he said simply. "My +wife has to go over the house and make some changes +before she will feel ready to receive guests. At present we +are on our honeymoon, and must not be disturbed. Sure +you'll understand." +</P> + +<P> +"Right-O!" replied Mr. Ferris. "But don't bar us +out too long, or we may get restive and break in. Welcome +to the county, Mrs. Gaunt! You're going to make +things hum hereabouts, I can see." +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt, his lips set in a tight, thin line, turned the +cart into the drive, waved a hand to his neighbour and +drove off. "Damn!" he ejaculated under his breath, as +the mare quickened her pace. "If I hadn't had to bring +you back by the road, we shouldn't have met that jackass!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry," said Virginia gravely. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE BEGINNING OF DEFEAT +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>Oh, heart of stone, are you flesh, and caught<BR> + By that which you swore to withstand?</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Tennyson</SPAN>.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"My word, but she's a peach," muttered Mr. Percy +Ferris to himself as he rode hastily home through the lanes +to lunch. "And old Gaunt's got her! That smoke-dried +old curmudgeon! Well, some people have the devil's own +luck. Poor little woman. Sold to him, I suppose? +Sold, body and soul. And he sits looking as though he +would like to shut her up in a harem where no other man +but himself could ever set eyes on her. Oh, why wasn't +she about in my day? However, one can't have everything, +I suppose." +</P> + +<P> +It was as well that he should admit this, for he was considered +extremely lucky by most of his neighbours. Beginning +life as a veterinary surgeon, he had happened to +be about when the late Colonel Coxon departed this life, +leaving Josephine, his only daughter, sole heiress of Perley +Hatch, a nice little property. +</P> + +<P> +Joey was only nineteen at the time, and was what the +Americans, with delicate euphemism, call homely. She +had projecting teeth, a freckled skin, little twinkling eyes, +and a loud voice. In person she was large and ungainly; +but she had her points. A bouncing good humour, a fine +seat on horseback, and a real love of children and animals +made her more or less popular in the district. Ferris was +not a good husband, but he was not actively unkind to her, +though he spared no chance of letting her know that, but +for her money, he would never have looked her way. +</P> + +<P> +As he entered his home, and passed through the untidy +hall, littered with whips, sticks, children's toys, golf clubs +and tennis bats, mingled in wild disorder with coats, jerseys, +old hats, gardening gloves and aprons, a loud roaring +could be heard, and Joey presently came downstairs, her +firstborn son, an ugly fat child of about five, tucked under +her arm, kicking, fighting, and bellowing. +</P> + +<P> +"Hallo!" said she, perceiving her husband. "I've +been giving Tom a good spanking to teach him not to torture +things. I can't think what makes 'em such little +demons of cruelty. Bill's just as bad. I won't have it, +that's flat. You hear, Tom? If ever you hurt anything +you're going to get hurt yourself. Comprenny, my son?" +</P> + +<P> +She set Tom on his feet, dusted him down, pushed her +untidy hair out of her eyes with one hand, and patted the +boy with the other. +</P> + +<P> +"Kiss and make friends," said she. "Here's daddy, +and we're going to have dinner." +</P> + +<P> +Tom bore no malice. He gave and received the kiss of +amity, and they went into the dining-room, where a huge +dish of boiled beef, flanked with carrots, turnips, and suet +dumplings steamed upon the board. +</P> + +<P> +A nurse brought down Bill, and seated him on his high +chair. Then Ferris, having begun to carve with celerity, +could keep his news no longer to himself. +</P> + +<P> +"Jo," he said, "it's true—true, after all." +</P> + +<P> +"Eh, what?" said Joey, busy preparing Bill's dinner +in a plate with a special high edge. +</P> + +<P> +"I wouldn't believe it—actually betted against it," continued +her husband, chuckling, "but it's gospel truth. +Old Gaunt's gone and got married." +</P> + +<P> +"Go on! Pulling my leg!" observed Joey, with equal +elegance and good humour. +</P> + +<P> +"My girl, I've seen 'em—actually seen 'em together. +Came up just as he was at his drive gate—telling Caunter +something. She was sitting in the trap beside him, and—Jee-rusalem, +she's a peach, if you like!" +</P> + +<P> +"Percy, you are the limit. Remember the boys." +</P> + +<P> +"Lucky little beggars, they aren't old enough to suffer +like their daddy. I tell you I've never seen anything quite +like her. She looks as if a breath would blow her away—like +what the serials call a vision from another world. +And old Gaunt sitting there beside her, looking as if he +would like to lay forcible hands on my windpipe. Old +Gaunt. Help!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I never," said Joey, deeply impressed. "It +may be a bit of all right for us, if she's a decent sort. +Nearest neighbours, aren't we?" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, there's nothing else within miles of her. I +believe the Chase is next nearest. By the bye, think I'll +ride over there this afternoon and tell her ladyship the +news. Come with me, old girl?" +</P> + +<P> +"I believe I will," said Joey. "Let's see, what's the +first day it will be decent to call at Omberleigh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not till further orders," laughed her husband. "Mrs. +G. will send out cards when she is ready to receive. +Poor little soul. I thought she looked as if she hoped +somebody would throw her a rope before long. Old +Gaunt. My hat!" +</P> + +<P> +"You call him old," observed Joey after a pause, during +which she took out her handkerchief and thoughtfully +scrubbed Tom's nose, "but he's only five or six years older +than you." +</P> + +<P> +"And looks twenty years older." +</P> + +<P> +"That's only because he doesn't care what he looks like. +Perhaps she'll furbish him up." +</P> + +<P> +"Just fancy," burst out her husband. "That sweet +little creature up there in his clutches. It makes one +shudder. I wonder if he talks to her about manure? +What should you suppose he <i>does</i> talk about, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"You can search me," responded Mrs. Ferris tranquilly. +She never spoke English where slang could conveniently +be substituted. "It's one of these money transactions—like +ours," she presently remarked. "She gets Gaunt and +you got me. You are both of you adventurers." +</P> + +<P> +"They were saying, down at the market Hall, that she +was a daughter of Bernard Mynors, of Lissendean, somewhere +in Dorsetshire. Didn't your father know something +of the family?" +</P> + +<P> +"He knew a General Mynors. Yes, he had a brother +named Bernard, and their place was in Dorset. Came out +of the top drawer, she did, if she's one of that lot. But +stony, you know—simply stony. I wonder where he +picked her up?" +</P> + +<P> +"You can search me," retorted Percy at once, and they +both giggled. "All I can tell you about her is that she +is It." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +The bride appeared at lunch, pale but valiant. +Gaunt was standing in the hall as she descended the stairs, +and noticed that she leaned her hand upon the rail, and +moved as if she were stiff. He decided that there was no +doubt that this was a mere piece of humbug. She wished +to impress him with an idea of helplessness, under cover of +which she was forming some plan of campaign. +</P> + +<P> +She forced herself to eat a little, because he was watching +her under his lowered lids. When she had done, and +Hemming had left the room, he rose, came to her end of +the table, produced from his pocket a handful of gem rings, +and tossed them on the table-cloth. "Choose what you +like," he said carelessly. +</P> + +<P> +The colour sprang hot to her face. With a dignified +gesture she pushed away the jewels and rose to her feet. +</P> + +<P> +"After what you said yesterday, you cannot expect me to +take presents from you," said she, making as if to pass +from the room. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha!" he stood before her, the light of combat in his +eyes. "You decline to take presents from me—good! +But you can't decline to do as I order you. I order you to +wear two of those rings, one on your left hand and the +other on your right. Choose quickly, or I will put them +on your finger myself." +</P> + +<P> +She stood, and he could see how hard she found it to +fight back words. In fact, she could not but realise that it +would be madness to arouse the resentment of the extraordinary +being whose motives she was quite unable to +fathom; yet she made one effort to brave him. +</P> + +<P> +"I will not choose—I have no choice," said she, not +glancing at the rings, but with her eyes on his face. +</P> + +<P> +He turned, scooped up the rings in one hand, laid the +other on her arm just above the elbow, and said: +</P> + +<P> +"Come, I will help you to make a selection. There is a +little room at the west corner of the house which I think +you may like to consider yours. Let me show you." +</P> + +<P> +She went with him unprotesting, and tried to control +the shuddering which his grip upon her arm caused her to +experience. +</P> + +<P> +The room which they entered was evidently his own +study. It was full of books and papers, untidy and dingy +looking, like the haunts of most men where the housemaid +is forbidden. Through this he passed by an inner door +to a smaller room, with two windows—one south, one +west. +</P> + +<P> +It was scantily furnished, but might have been pretty if +artistically arranged. She glanced round. There <i>was</i> a +second door. A room which she could neither enter nor +leave without passing through his would be a poor boon. +He pushed her down upon a sofa, seated himself beside +her, and laid the little pile of rings upon her knee. Without +speaking, he took her left hand in his own, and began +fitting the rings one after another. All were too large, +except a fine half-hoop of emeralds. +</P> + +<P> +"That for the present," said he, "and we can have some +others altered. Which do you like next best?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not like to wear any of them," she answered +faintly. His shoulder was touching her own, and her +terror grew with each moment. +</P> + +<P> +"You are obstinate," he said, with a scowl. +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head. "It is not a question of what I +like, so why pretend that it is? I will do anything that +you say I must," she murmured, so low that he could +hardly hear. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, then, I say you must choose another ring." She +turned them over listlessly. "This," said she at last, +taking a single diamond. +</P> + +<P> +"Good!" He gathered up the rest. Then, to her utter +relief, he rose. "I will make it into a packet for the +post," said he. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! That reminds me!" She was suddenly eager. +"Please tell me, have you a second post here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. It will be in soon—about an hour's time." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I am glad!" A glow irradiated her wistful face. +"Pansy promised to write; I thought she could not have +forgotten." There was a break in her voice as she mentioned +her little sister. "When does the post go out?" +she went on. +</P> + +<P> +"Very inconveniently, the man who brings the bag also +takes it back, so that if you are going to write, you must +have your letter ready before you receive the one you +expect. Will you like to write it now? You will find +things on the table." +</P> + +<P> +He turned, went back into his own room, and closed the +communicating door. +</P> + +<P> +Left alone, her first act was to steal across the floor to +the other exit, and turn the handle. It was locked, and +the key had been taken out. +</P> + +<P> +The knowledge that she was actually a prisoner came to +her with a shock of horror. What would happen to her, +what was she to expect in this house of mysterious terror? +She dare not give way, however. No matter what she suffered, +Pansy must know nothing of it—Tony must know +nothing. She must write a letter which should reassure +them; and, if once she yielded to the creeping, nameless +horror which assailed her, this would be impossible. +</P> + +<P> +Rallying her courage, she fought the sobs which rose in +her throat, and sat down to the writing-table. +</P> + +<P> +She had just sealed and stamped her letter, and was +wondering whether she dare lie down upon the sofa and +rest, when Gaunt came in, his letters for the post and the +packet for the jeweller in his hand. He went up to the +place she had just vacated, laid down what he carried, +and took up the letter which she had left lying on the +blotter. +</P> + +<P> +"Shouldn't have sealed it until I had read it," he +remarked coolly, as he broke the envelope open. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia sprang to her feet, and her angry cry of "Oh, +how <i>can</i> you?" convinced him that he was on the right +track at last. He was going to hear the truth, as she had +written it to those with whom she knew no reserve. "One +of my rules," said he, "is to read all the letters you write." +</P> + +<P> +"You——" Half in shame, half in rage she broke +off, she stifled the word upon her tongue. Drawing back, +mistress of herself, she remarked scornfully: "I might +have thought. People who break vows will not respect +seals." +</P> + +<P> +His back was towards her, so she could not see whether +that stung. It certainly did not avail to change his intention. +He read her letter deliberately through. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<i>My Own Precious Little Sister,</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>You will be so anxious to know how I am, and what +my new home is like, that although I am very tired, I must +send you a scribble before the post goes out, which is much +earlier than I thought.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>Well, my darling, we got here quite safely. This house +stands on a hill, and there are woods behind it. The garden +goes right down the hill. It is not as big as Lissendean, +but it is a very nice house, and there are kind servants.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>You would have laughed if you had seen Osbert and me, +sitting each at one end of a great long table, having dinner +in state.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>It seemed so odd this morning to be called—to have tea +brought to me instead of taking it to mamma—to have no +bed to make, nor breakfast things to wash up. Nothing to +do, in fact, except order the dinner. The housekeeper, +Mrs. Wells, is very nice. I think we shall be great friends. +Her dairy is beautiful; they have those churns that darling +father and I used to long for at Lissendean. I almost +cried, remembering.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>This morning was gloriously fine. Osbert took me out +over the farms, and showed me the horses and the cornland +and all the estate. I was very silly and got faint when we +had gone some way. You see, I don't like to confess to +him how run down I have been; and having had so little +food for so long, I have no appetite, and the very sight of +the abundant meals makes me feel ill. I simply can't +swallow. I know this good air will make me better by +degrees.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>Oh, darling, I felt so homesick—so deadly homesick +last night. I thought of you all, and wondered what you +were doing, how you were getting on, and whether you +missed Virgie. Also I remembered that I never showed +Caroline the place where your surgical things are kept. +You must show her before the great doctor comes. Oh, +how anxious I shall be until I hear all about his visit. +Keep up your heart, darling. I know you will be much +better before long.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>Osbert has given me a little sitting-room for my own. +I am writing there now. He has given me a splendid +emerald ring, and another with a diamond in it.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>Oh, Pansy, love, darling, pet, write and tell me everything—just +everything you can think of, because I am +very lonely.</i> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noidnent"> +<i>Your own most loving</i> + <SPAN CLASS="scap">Virgie.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +<i>P.S.—Hugs and kisses to my old Tony. I hope the +bat is satisfactory.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +While this letter was being read, there was complete +stillness in the room. The writer stood in the window, +her back turned to Gaunt. He, when he had finished +reading, let the hand which held the paper drop between +his knees, while he sat staring upon the motionless figure +of his wife. He could not doubt that the letter was spontaneous. +She had evidently no idea at all of his demanding +to see it. But, if it were true, then what was he? +Had he made the greatest mistake of his life? +</P> + +<P> +"What induced you," he demanded huskily, "to write +such a letter as this?" +</P> + +<P> +She turned round, puzzled. "What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you had written as you felt about me and my treatment +of you——" +</P> + +<P> +"But I cannot do that. I am bound to be loyal to you," +she said quietly. "You know it. Besides, I may suffer, +and perhaps I deserve it. They never shall, if I can help +it." +</P> + +<P> +"But they shall, and can," he snarled. "This child +will suffer if she never sees you again—and she never +shall. No, by——" +</P> + +<P> +He checked the oath. What was he saying? What was +he thinking? There stood before him a dauntless creature, +submissive but utterly unconquered. Was he going to find +his pleasure in torturing her?... His head swam. Yet +the perverse devil in him drove him on. "That's part of +my plan," he said, "part of my scheme to pay your mother +in full. You will never set eyes on any of them again. I +told you yesterday—it is a life-sentence." +</P> + +<P> +She answered gravely: "Yes, you told me that." +</P> + +<P> +"And you—you write like this, because you think it +would make the child unhappy if she knew the truth. +How long do you think you can manage to keep up this +farce, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head. "I don't know. I can't look forward," +she muttered hurryingly. "I must just do what +I can—as long as I can." +</P> + +<P> +He tossed the letter upon the table. "Seal it down and +put it in the bag, for the lie it is," he said thickly. +</P> + +<P> +She sat down obediently to re-seal the envelope. He +stood watching her, with eyes full of baffled purpose. +Upon them there entered Hemming, bearing a locked post-bag +in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt unlocked it with a key which was fastened to his +watch-chain, took out the contents, placed his own correspondence +and his wife's one letter within, relocked the +bag, and handed it to the man, who retired. +</P> + +<P> +The letters lay behind him in a little pile. He sorted +them, and selected one in a childish, unformed hand, addressed +to Mrs. Gaunt. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course," he said, "I also read all the letters you +receive." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose so," replied Virginia dryly. +</P> + +<P> +She felt that her limbs would no longer support her, and +sat down white and shaking, clenching her hands together +while again silence fell and Gaunt read: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>Virgie, my own darling, I must use up the time while +you are being married, in writing to say O my sweet dear +I hope God will let you be hapy like you deserve to be. +I am so sorry I did not see Osbert when he came hear, but +you must send me his foto, then I shall know what he is +like. O, it is nise to think you will alwas have enuf to +eat now. You used to think I did not notice when you +gave it all to Tony and me, but I did. I knew too that +morning when you fainted over scrubing the kitchen floor, +when you came up with that wet stain on your apron I +knew because I caled so many times and you did not +answer. Now you will be rich and grand and hapy, and +you must not think I shall fret, because I don't mean to. +Carroline is a nise woman, very kind to me, but O Virgie, +I shall not be so hapy with Mamma now you are not hear +to keep her pleased, I hope it is not rong to write this. It +must be so funny to have a husband, give him my love if +you think he would like it, are your nees well yet? Mind +you don't walk too far till they are. Have you dissided +which room is to be mine when I come to Omberleigh? +Do let it look out on the yard so I can see the chickens. +Good-bye, darling</i>, <SPAN CLASS="scap">DARLING,</SPAN> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<SPAN CLASS="scap">Your LITTLE Pansy Blossom.</SPAN> +</P> + +<P> +<i>P.S.—Urmintrude is quite well.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +There was a pause after the man had finished reading. +He frowned, bit his lip, and stared at the floor. At last +he flung a question at his wife. "What's wrong with your +knees?" +</P> + +<P> +She started and flushed. "They are—they are a little +swollen and sore—with housework—kneeling about, you +know," she murmured apologetically. "Does Pansy mention +it?" +</P> + +<P> +"What housework have you had to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Only the keep of Laburnum Villa." +</P> + +<P> +"But there was a servant; I saw her." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, she only came for that afternoon, because I—I +didn't want to let you in myself...." +</P> + +<P> +"... And you ask me to believe that you—<i>you</i> have +been a maid-of-all-work for the past two years?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, I do not ask you to believe it," came the disdainful +retort. "I do not mind whether you believe it or +not." +</P> + +<P> +He went up to her with one of his unexpected, almost +violent movements, snatched the hand which hung at her +side, opened it—studied its pink palm. It had been +carefully tended, but it bore unmistakable marks of hard +usage. +</P> + +<P> +"It seems to me that I have married the wrong +woman," he said, letting it fall again. "It was your +mother who ought to have been made to suffer." +</P> + +<P> +"Mother has suffered a great deal," murmured +Virginia. +</P> + +<P> +He thrust his hands deep in his pockets, walked away, +across the room, came back slowly, paused, staring at +her. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me, for God's sake, what made you consent to +such a marriage as this?" +</P> + +<P> +She made a backward movement away from him, her +eyes blazing, her temper high. "I did <i>not</i> consent—I +never consented to such a marriage as this!" +</P> + +<P> +She was in act to go out of the room. He put himself +in the way. "What then? What did you expect?" +</P> + +<P> +"I will not speak of it to you!" +</P> + +<P> +"You will speak of what I please!" As she made to +pass him, he took her by both arms, holding her before +him. "You are to tell me what induced you to agree to +marry me." +</P> + +<P> +"Why should I tell you when you do not believe what +I say?" +</P> + +<P> +"You tell me—I'll believe or not, as I see fit. Out +with it!" +</P> + +<P> +She once more checked the hysterical sobs that threatened +her. +</P> + +<P> +"You—you had once loved mother," she said slowly. +"You knew that she preferred another man. I am like +her. You saw me; it brought back to you that bygone +love. I supposed that you were attracted." +</P> + +<P> +She paused. +</P> + +<P> +"But what of yourself? Your own feeling in the +matter? I want to get at that." +</P> + +<P> +"It was only a question of me," she muttered, "and it +was giving myself up for them. I—you see, I could do +nothing." In spite of her control sobs began to shake her +voice. "It was hopeless; we were at the end——" She +broke off to summon fresh nerve. He stood immovable, +holding her, compelling her, as it were, to continue. +</P> + +<P> +"The end of your resources?" +</P> + +<P> +She nodded. "And nearly the end of my strength +too. I was afraid that, if I took a place anywhere, my +health would give way. I was afraid—a coward!" +Suddenly her own emotion gave her words and steadied +her voice. "I ought to have gone on—just died, and +trusted God to care for them! But, oh, you have never +known—never thought of what it means—to have the +ones you love, your own, your darlings—destitute, and to +know that you—can't go on much longer.... As for +you"—she looked him squarely in the eyes, her own full +of scorn—"how could I have guessed that a man like you +could be? A man who could find pleasure in bullying, +browbeating the helpless girl he had sworn to love?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ha!" he said, "so you break out at last, do you? +How dare you speak to me like that? I shall punish you +for it. You haven't read that letter yet. Give it me." +</P> + +<P> +She held Pansy's as yet unread epistle crushed in her +left hand. Without reflecting, she snatched it to her +breast, covering it with her other hand. In a whirlwind +of some blind fury which he could not analyse he took +it from her, using force to unclasp her fingers. +</P> + +<P> +There was a tussle—momentary only—then she stood +free of him in the middle of the room, a wild look on her +face, glancing this way and that as if for escape. He +stood before the one door, the other was locked. Like a +flame blown out by a puff of wind her passion died as the +knowledge of her own desperate case overflooded her. +Turning away with a long-drawn moan she crouched down +in a big chair, hiding her face, giving way to her despair +unrestrained. +</P> + +<P> +In a minute or two she heard his voice, harsh and +broken, speaking close to her. "Why did you provoke +me? You shouldn't; it's dangerous," he growled hurriedly. +"Here, take your letter; here it is"—pushing +it into her hands. "Stop crying, can you? or conceal +your face. Here comes Hemming with the tea." +</P> + +<P> +At the admonition she sprang to her feet, and he saw +the pathos of her pale, tear-washed cheeks. With a swift +movement she ran to the writing-table, seated herself +thereat, and bent down her face as if busily occupied. +Gaunt placed himself beside her, leaning partly over, as +if watching what she wrote; and upon the domestic tableau +the servant entered with his tray. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE TREATMENT BREAKS DOWN +</H4> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>Oh, do not die, for I shall hate<BR> + All women so, when thou art gone,<BR> + That thee I shall not celebrate,<BR> + When I remember thou wast one.</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Donne.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The otter hounds were out, and Mr. Ferris was driving +his wife in the car to the meet. The gentleman was in +capital humour, for he knew how acceptable a companion +he would prove to everybody this morning; being, so far +as he knew, the only person who had yet actually beheld +the romantic creature who had conquered that hard and +woman-hating bachelor, Gaunt of Omberleigh. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder if she'll hunt?" remarked Joey. "Gaunt's +a good horseman in spite of his lameness. Just fancy +seeing him about this winter with a pretty wife in tow! +It's simply too rippin'—best news I've heard for a long +time." +</P> + +<P> +"Hallo! Who's this riding the wrong way?" said +her husband suddenly. "If it isn't the doctor. Hallo, +Dymock, where are you off to on such a grand morning?" +he cried, stopping the engine. +</P> + +<P> +"Give you three guesses," said Dymock, drawing rein +with a grin on his clever, keen face. "But you won't +guess in fifty." +</P> + +<P> +"Got it in one," shouted Joey. "You're going to +Omberleigh, I can see it in your eye." +</P> + +<P> +"You're a wizard, Mrs. Ferris. Have you seen her, +then?" +</P> + +<P> +"What, the bride? You don't say you're going to +see her?" +</P> + +<P> +"I saw her yesterday," burst in Percy, "and she looked +as well as—well, as health itself." +</P> + +<P> +"Old Gaunt is not satisfied, however," replied Dymock. +"It's probably nothing much, but he says she seems a bit +run down. I suppose I must expect to be sent for if her +little finger aches." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," laughed Ferris. "He looks as if he wishes +he could cause her to become invisible when any one of +the male sex is passing by. Just the age to make a fool +of himself, isn't he? Well, if you're passing our way +later, look in, won't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"You'll be wasting your whisky, Ferris. I don't give +away my patients." +</P> + +<P> +Ferris grinned. "Welcome, anyway," he said, as he +and his wife drove on. +</P> + +<P> +Dr. Dymock pursued his road, his mind as he rode up +through the pinewoods being filled with as lively a curiosity +as even the couple from Perley Hatch confessed to +feeling. What like was the girl—for Ferris said she was +a girl, and beautiful at that—who could have married +Gaunt? +</P> + +<P> +Hemming showed him into the study. It surprised him +vaguely to find the house as untidy and dingy as usual—the +abode of a woman-hating bachelor, untouched by the +coming of a fair young mistress. Certainly the affair had +been very sudden. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt joined him almost at once, his own appearance +just as normal and unchanged as that of his house. +</P> + +<P> +"I must begin with hearty congratulations," observed +the doctor, shaking hands cordially. "Ferris, it appears, +caught a glimpse of Mrs. Gaunt yesterday, and he says she +is perfectly lovely." +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks. Yes, my wife is certainly pretty, but I fear +she is not very strong. As I think I hinted to you in my +note, she was bitten with the idea which infects many +girls nowadays—this notion of taking up Work, with a +capital W. She has been scrubbing floors and cooking +meals—laying tables and lighting fires. It has been +quite too much for her. She told me nothing of it, and +I was inconsiderate enough to take her a long ramble over +the estate yesterday. She was so done up afterwards that +I persuaded her to stay in bed to-day until you had seen +her." +</P> + +<P> +It was frankly and quite pleasantly said. The doctor +applauded the new-made husband's care, and was taken +upstairs, under Grover's escort, to the room where his +patient lay. +</P> + +<P> +He was not a man observant of details, but it struck +even him that these were curious surroundings for a modern +bride. +</P> + +<P> +Since his inheritance of the property from his great +aunt, the survivor of four aged sisters, Gaunt had not +thought of touching or altering anything. +</P> + +<P> +The big bedstead on which Virginia lay was what used +to be known as a "tester." It had a wooden canopy, and +hangings of washed-out chintz. +</P> + +<P> +There was an early Victorian mahogany wardrobe, big, +heavy, ugly, and commodious. The rest of the furniture +was in keeping. However, plenty of sunshine came in +through the long windows, and there was a bunch of roses +on a small table near the bed. +</P> + +<P> +With her hair tumbling about her, Mrs. Gaunt looked +like a child. He had a moment's horror as he met the +nervous, shrinking dread in her lovely eyes. Was this a +tragedy? +</P> + +<P> +"I had no idea," stammered the patient, "no idea that +my—husband had sent for a doctor. There is no need, +I am well, I am only a little tired." +</P> + +<P> +"Just what he told me," said Dymock good-humouredly. +"I expect you are both right. You can't wonder +at his being a bit anxious, can you?" He glanced up +humorously at Grover, who had evidently had strict orders +to remain, and who stood primly by the bed. She smiled, +however, at his question. +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed, sir, I think the master is quite right. Mrs. +Gaunt is thoroughly overdone," said she. "I daresay he +told you, sir, as he told us, that she has been going in +for this here domestic science work. Young ladies like +her, sir, is not fit for it. If you'll believe me, she has +been actually washing clothes! That is, she says she had +in a woman to help, but it's a sin, sir, for the likes of her. +However, now we've put our foot down"—she cast a +glance of real kindness at the wistful creature lying there. +"There's plenty of us here, sir, to wait on her, hand and +foot; and in a few days you'll see she'll be a different +thing—a different thing altogether. It is her knees I +want you to look at particular, sir, after you've took her +pulse, of course." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +When the doctor came downstairs the bridegroom was +standing at the hall door, his hands deep thrust in his +pockets, gazing out gloomily over the thick and shadowy +pinewood. +</P> + +<P> +As Dymock approached, he turned, fixing his eyes upon +him. The doctor stood, drawing on his riding gloves, and +did not at first speak. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" said Gaunt at last, with an odd air of exploding. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I am a little puzzled. No doubt there is debility +as a result of overwork, but there is more than that. +To tell you the actual truth, your wife has been starving +herself. You see, that is a queer, unnatural symptom. +When a healthy girl starves herself, it means one of two +things. Either her nerves are all to pieces—she is what +we call hysterical—or in the alternative—why, she simply +hasn't been able to get enough to eat. Now your wife +shows no sign of hysteria that I can see, except for the +undoubted fact that she is under-nourished. So——" +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt folded his arms and looked away. "Dymock," +he said unwillingly, "one's doctor keeps one's secrets—eh?" +</P> + +<P> +Dymock raised his clear steady eyes and looked full at +him. "I do," was all he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I fear it is true, that she is under-fed and over-worked. +It has been cruel. I had no idea myself. She +looks so, somehow, so unlike that." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, indeed. You mean that her over-exertion has +been necessary?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I thought as much," replied Dymock, after a +pause. "Some unscrupulous employer, I suppose. A +good thing you rescued her. She is perfectly healthy and +sound, but she won't be anything like robust for some time +yet. I am forbidding solid food at present. She must +have nourishment every two hours—eggs beaten up in +milk, port wine, strong soup, Benger's food—things like +that. In a few days her appetite will return. But meanwhile +she must be left perfectly quiet, Gaunt—you understand?" +</P> + +<P> +"I understand perfectly. I give you my word for +that." +</P> + +<P> +"It won't be for long," said Dymock consolingly. +"She is young, and she will pick up fast in this good air; +her convalescence will be twice as rapid if you are considerate. +She is in a state of acute nervous tension, and +must be soothed; kept happy and quiet." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps," said Gaunt, after a long pause, "it would +be better if I do not see her at all, just at present. What +do you think?" +</P> + +<P> +"It all depends. Does it excite her to see you?" +</P> + +<P> +"It might. Our marriage was sudden, you know. +She hardly knows me." +</P> + +<P> +"I think it should depend upon what she would like. +Might it not distress her that you should keep away?" +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps." +</P> + +<P> +"In a few days," went on the doctor, "she ought to +go out, if it can be managed without her putting her feet +to the ground. You have no motor, have you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"See here, Gaunt—forgive me if this sounds like interference, +but the fact of your never having had any +ladies to the house—your well-known tastes, or distastes—make +things a bit difficult for your wife. She is all +alone—there's nobody to come and see her, or cheer her +up. I am going to make a bold suggestion. Young Mrs. +Ferris is simply bursting with hospitable intentions, and, +though she is a bit of a rough diamond, she is one of the +best. They have a motor, and she has nothing else to do. +Let me send her round in a day or two to call upon Mrs. +Gaunt?" +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt's brow lowered. "A woman with a voice like a +fog-horn——" +</P> + +<P> +"No beauty, I grant you, but a real good sort, and +your only near neighbour. Let her drive Mrs. Gaunt +about, show her the Peak, take her shopping to Buxton, +import some light literature from the circulating library—something +to pass the time." +</P> + +<P> +"It may be that you are right," replied Gaunt after +some hesitation. "I don't want visitors yet, but if Mrs. +Ferris would understand that she is quite an exception——" +</P> + +<P> +"It would double her desire to be of use," laughed the +doctor. "Well, good day. I'll send along a tonic, and +I think I should like to see your wife again to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +"Come as often as you think wise." +</P> + +<P> +The clatter of the hoofs of the doctor's mare died away +along the wooded aisles. Gaunt remained standing, his +head bent, his hands locked behind his back. He hardly +knew what he felt, what dominating impulse would emerge +out of the present confusion of a mind which for more +than twenty years had been swayed by one sole idea. +</P> + +<P> +The surroundings upon which his moody gaze was fixed +were the scene of that accident which had done much to +warp his temperament, to give a twist to a disposition +which from birth had been passionate and what is known +as "difficult." The kind of boy who would have been +saved by the devotion of a mother who understood him, he +had been left doubly an orphan at an age so early that he +had but a confused memory even of his mother's face. +His old great-aunts at Omberleigh knew nothing of boys. +During his summer vacation he stayed with them and ran +wild among the men servants. +</P> + +<P> +He was about fifteen years old, a wilful, even violent-tempered +lad, when he disobeyed a direct order by going +for a ride upon the bailiff's horse, an uncertain-tempered +brute, who could be controlled only by his master. Contrary +to his own expectation, all had gone well. He was +returning in triumph up the drive, off his guard, exulting +in his successful bit of disobedience, when something white +rushed across the road. It was a shirt, blown from an +adjacent clothes-line by the fury of the gale, and flying +upon the wind like some wild ghost, flapping, rolling, staggering. +As if in sheer malice, it shot out from among +the tree-trunks, and wrapped itself momentarily over the +eyes of the outraged steed, which swerved, terrified, and +bolted into the wood. Madly the creature strove to thrust +itself in between the close-growing pines. Pluckily the +boy clung to his seat, though knocked violently against one +obstacle after another in his hurtling progress. Finally, +the horse attempted to rush through a narrow space between +two extra strong and large trees, and the rider came +off, but not before one leg had been horribly crushed in +the struggle. +</P> + +<P> +His right knee proved to be so badly lacerated that amputation +was at first thought inevitable. By the skill of +the surgeon this was obviated, but the snapping of a tendon +produced a life-long stiffness of the joint and for a year +or two prevented his indulging in any kind of athletics. +</P> + +<P> +The isolation of mind and body which resulted fostered +his already existing tendency to morbidity. At Oxford +he withdrew himself as much as he could from society, +becoming more morose as his former friends, tired of being +repulsed, left him by degrees more and more to himself. +At Oxford, one Commemoration week, he met the beautiful +Virginia Sheringham, and fell so violently in love +that his natural reserve was swept out of sight, and he +conquered by sheer force of will. This girl became his +idol, his universe, his obsession. For her he would work +unceasingly, remove mountains, make a name, make a +fortune. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps he should have thought himself lucky that so +fascinating a young lady endured a whole year of so unpromising +an engagement. At first she was taken off her +feet by the violence of his passion, the impetuosity of his +wooing. Very soon, however, her natural prudence began +to get the upper hand. What, she very properly asked +herself, could be the outcome of this long-drawn affair? +The love-letters which at first had been so irresistible, inevitably +palled on repetition. Moreover, one cannot buy +new frocks with love-letters. Perhaps she announced the +end of it all too suddenly. Yet it is doubtful whether any +preliminary hinting could have made Osbert believe that +his adored one could possibly be contemplating the treachery +of jilting him. +</P> + +<P> +The thing was done. It had to be done, for Virginia +had given her lover a whole year, and a maiden's market +is short. Unfortunately, the young man involved belonged +to that pitiable but happily small minority with +whom to love seems final, who cannot rally from the blow +given by the beloved hand. +</P> + +<P> +Everything was against Gaunt's recovery. He had no +friends. His nearest relatives were the old great-aunts +at Omberleigh, who understood him not at all, and liked +him but little. During his engagement he flung away +every other interest, every other resource, to give himself +up to the passion which filled him. His jilting was for +him the end of all things. For the first few years he disappeared +from England, became a special correspondent +at out-of-the-way spots such as Valparaiso, visited such +outposts of empire as the Solomon Islands. Then the +last surviving aunt passed away from Omberleigh. He +found that the place was his, and he decided to occupy it, +since he had formed a plan which needed residence in +England for its maturing. +</P> + +<P> +He had thought, during those years of wandering, upon +one subject only. The behaviour of Virginia Sheringham +had been brought to the bar of his judgment. She +had been tried, and found guilty on every count. She had +been treacherous, light, covetous, cruel, selfish, and callous. +For these things he decided that she deserved punishment. +Why should he suffer as for years he had suffered, while +the criminal went scot free? +</P> + +<P> +He had money now. Money was power. One day his +turn would come. He could wait for it. +</P> + +<P> +As the waiting went on he grew used to it. He lived +in an atmosphere of it. One day this long-planned thing +would happen, this long-prepared design would materialise. +He hardly noticed the flight of the years. He +hardly noticed any material or outward circumstances, +except the development of his land. He lived in the +nursing, the contemplation, the fondling, of an idea of +future vengeance and retribution, when Virginia Sheringham +should be at his mercy, and should plead to him—and +plead in vain. +</P> + +<P> +When at last the scheme did really mature, when the +mortgage fell in, he could hardly realise that this had +actually happened. He felt dazed, like a man who has +lived for years in the dark when he is faced with sudden +daylight. +</P> + +<P> +It was all happening so ludicrously as he had foreseen. +Mrs. Mynors had found out who was the mortgagee, and +she had made an appeal—just the kind of appeal he had +expected. He found himself taking a ticket for a journey +to London for the first time during years. +</P> + +<P> +There was nothing to do in London. To wait patiently +there was by no means the easy matter that it was in the +country, in the midst of his own work upon his own land. +To occupy himself he went and saw pictures. He had a +taste for pictures, though he never indulged it by buying +any. +</P> + +<P> +This it was which brought him to Hertford House, and +suggested to him a totally new idea—an idea so brilliant, +and yet so horrible, that it attracted and repelled him +both at once. The shock of the sight of Virginia the +younger was so great as partially to unnerve him. Her +daughter! He had never thought about her children, +except when the death of her son and heir, by means of +the motor accident, had appeared in the paper, and he +had been glad. +</P> + +<P> +Now here was something like a resurrection of the Virginia +of twenty years ago. He contemplated her, considered +her, appraised her. The whole appearance of her +was to him the top-note of luxury, extravagance, affectation. +Long residence in the country, avoidance of women, +had made him unaccustomed to the growing call for elaborate +taste in feminine attire. He had never seen anything +like the slim perfection of Virginia. He listened +while girl-like she prattled of the costumes of the pictured +women on the walls. He heard her wonder gravely +whether she could wear rose-colour and contrast her own +style with that of her friend! +</P> + +<P> +She stood, to the man who glowered upon her, for the +incarnation of a type. She was the temptress woman, +who would, as her mother had done, enslave and then forsake. +Could he prevent the life-long unhappiness of some +unfortunate man, by exerting his own will, his own wealth +to get the siren into his power? +</P> + +<P> +He marked the arrival of Gerald Rosenberg. His faculties, +sharpened to the point of brilliance by his own +keen personal hatred, discerned the situation between the +two young people. Upon the upshot of it depended all +his own plans. If Gerald hesitated—if he took time for +reflection—then Gaunt would have a chance to carry out +a scheme of retribution more complete than anything of +which he had yet dreamed. In his pocket was a letter +from his old love—a letter which he described to himself +as loathsome. It told him, practically, that she was +his for the asking. What a buffet in the face for her, if +he should propose for her daughter! And what a hold +upon the entire family if he could catch the mercenary +young adventuress, and keep her caged, and mould her to +his will! +</P> + +<P> +And it had all happened so marvellously according to +his plan. +</P> + +<P> +He succeeded not merely as well as he hoped, but far +more easily. He was met more than half-way, both by +mother and daughter. Gerald Rosenberg had evidently +hung fire. The dressed-up doll which looked so fair and +innocent was ready to consent to the sale of herself—to +the shameful bargain which he had proposed. So he had +taken her hand—led her into the steel jaws of his trap. +It had closed upon her, and she lay at the bottom, lacerated, +helpless, awaiting the moment when her captor should +come and devour her. +</P> + +<P> +He felt as might a hunter, who, having laid a snare for +a man-eating tigress, comes creeping through the woods at +dawn, and finds the pit occupied by a strayed lamb. +</P> + +<P> +From the moment of reading the two letters which +yesterday had passed between the sisters, he knew that his +weapon had broken in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +The dreadful thing was that, having made captive this +helpless creature, towards whom his ill-will was no longer +active, he was unable to release her. +</P> + +<P> +And what could he do with her? +</P> + +<P> +He had saddled himself for life with a female companion, +of whom he had no need at all. What satisfaction +could be derived from asserting his mastery over one so +weak, so submissive, so—so confoundedly childish? As +to making friends with her, the prospects of that were not +encouraging. His treatment of her yesterday must have +made a deep impression. Besides, he felt within himself +no hankering at all after a <i>rapprochement</i>. Since his +wife could not feed his hate, nor satisfy his vengeance, he +had, quite frankly, no use for her. +</P> + +<P> +Yet she was there. What was he to do with her? +</P> + +<P> +As the endless complications—the annoying changes +to be wrought in his life by the introduction of such trying +persons as Joey Ferris into his hitherto unmolested retreat—as +all this swept over him, he realised that he had +overshot his mark and landed himself in unforeseen difficulties +and vexations. Some gratifications still remained—for +instance, the prospect of reading and of answering +his mother-in-law's first letter, appealing for more money! +Ah, that still lay in the future, along with her inevitable +suggestion that she should come for a "nice long visit" +to Omberleigh, and his blunt refusal of her company! +</P> + +<P> +In her, at least, he had not been mistaken. It was only +in the case of this artless, babyish creature upstairs that +he had made such an ass of himself. +</P> + +<P> +Shrugging his shoulders, he turned slowly away from +the doorway, and betook himself to his study. There he +sat down and wrote a message. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>The doctor tells me you need rest, and should be left +quite quiet. That being so, I feel sure that I had better +keep away altogether. But there is something I have to +say, so will you, for the sake of appearances, grant me a +few minutes' conversation this afternoon. Choose your +own time.—O. G.</i> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +INSTANTANEOUS CONVERSION +</H4> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>I was a moody comrade to her then,<BR> + For all the love I bore her....<BR> + ... This had come to be<BR> + A game to play, a love to clasp, a hate<BR> + To wreak, all things together that a man<BR> + Needs for his blood to ripen....<BR> + ... In those hours no doubt<BR> + To the young girl, my eyes were like my soul,—<BR> + Dark wells of death-in-life that yearned for day.</i>"—<BR> + —<SPAN CLASS="scap">D. G. Rossetti.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +A pencil note was brought downstairs to the master by +Grover, who wore a demure look, as though she guessed +how novel and charming a pastime to the woman-hater +was this playful exchange of love-letters. +</P> + +<P> +He was seated at the lunch-table when the little envelope +was handed to him, and a surly self-consciousness kept +him from opening it until Hemming had retired, which +conduct on his part caused amused nudgings between the +servants outside. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>Please come to tea at four.</i>—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Virginia.</SPAN> +</P> +<BR> + +<P> +Such was the extent of the "love-letter" when he had +opened it. +</P> + +<P> +He shrugged his shoulders. He did not want to have +tea with her in the least. However, it would have a good +effect upon the household—keep up the fiction of their +mutual desire for each other's society. +</P> + +<P> +At a few minutes after four, he knocked at her door. +Grover had just arranged the tea-table close to the bed, +and was putting away one or two things before leaving +the room. Virginia blushed brightly as her jailer entered, +but gave him a timid smile of welcome. She told Grover, +with whom she was evidently on the best of terms already, +to set a chair for him, directed the closing of one window, +lest there be too much draught; and so did the honours +until the maid, benevolently smiling, had disappeared. +</P> + +<P> +The bride knew that even a minute's hesitation would +make her too nervous to speak, so she said at once: "It +was kind of you to send for the doctor, but indeed there +was no need. I shall be well in a very few days. I feel +rested already." +</P> + +<P> +"That's right," he said briefly. "Proper treatment +will bring you round sooner, I expect." +</P> + +<P> +"I like Dr. Dymock," she said timidly. +</P> + +<P> +"He's not a bad sort." +</P> + +<P> +A silence ensued. How difficult it was to find things +to say. Virginia made another effort. "Grover is so +kind, she waits on me hand and foot!" +</P> + +<P> +"It's her work to wait on you. What she's paid for. +I don't know why you should call her kind." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you know," she asked earnestly, "the difference +between the work you can pay for and the work you can't? +Oh, but I am sure you must." +</P> + +<P> +He grunted. Evidently he was not interested, but +bored. She offered him more tea, and refrained from +further efforts at talk, remembering his sneer at her +"prattle." +</P> + +<P> +They were too utterly out of sympathy for her to have +any idea of how best to approach him. +</P> + +<P> +He drank his second cup of tea in silence, his gaze +travelling over the room, over the dressing-table with its +dainty appointments, over the white silk kimono, embroidered +in faintly coloured flowers, which his bride +wore. The loose sleeve revealed the thinness of her arm +and wrist, which her dresses had formerly more or less +concealed. On her white flesh he remarked a row of round +purple marks. Had she rubbed her arm on something +dirty? What could have caused those stains? They +looked like finger-marks. The memory of yesterday—of +their tussle, and his snatching of the letter from her +desperate grip—came suddenly to him. +</P> + +<P> +Could it be true that he, Osbert Gaunt, with the upbringing +and traditions of a gentleman, had left the marks +of his hands upon a fragile girl? Self-disgust turned +him for a moment almost sick. +</P> + +<P> +Yet he would say what he had come to say. He cleared +his throat. +</P> + +<P> +"The doctor suggested to me that he should send our +neighbour, Mrs. Ferris, to call upon you in a day or two. +I don't suppose you will like her much, but she is about +the only person available. She is one of nature's mistakes—daughter +of a colonel, and ought to have worked in a +factory. However, they tell me she is a good sort. She +has a motor, and would take you for a spin. I want you +to understand that, if you go out with her, it is only on +conditions—that it would be of no use for you to attempt +to escape." +</P> + +<P> +Virgie was so surprised that she dropped the sugar-tongs. +"To escape!" +</P> + +<P> +"From me." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't understand——" +</P> + +<P> +"I think you do. If Mrs. Ferris motors you to any +place where there is a railway station you might be +tempted to take the train and go off. I ought to tell you +that if you do, I shall bring you back." +</P> + +<P> +"You suppose that I should—that I should let Mrs. Ferris +into the secret of my—of your—of our——" +</P> + +<P> +"What more likely?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you think so," replied Virginia with shaking voice, +"please don't let Mrs. Ferris come. I did not ask—you +must not think I asked the doctor—for company or complained +of loneliness. I am——" she could not go on. +</P> + +<P> +"Have I your word that if I allow you to go about as +you like you will make no attempt to leave me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Would you take my word?" she cried vehemently; +then checked herself, and seemed to hold herself quiet by +an act of will. +</P> + +<P> +"The doctor told me that you ought not to be distressed, +that perfect rest was necessary for you," said +Gaunt, rising abruptly from his seat. "Don't upset yourself, +I didn't mean to bully. I will take it for granted +that you will do as I wish, now that you know what my +wishes are. Good afternoon." +</P> + +<P> +She did not answer. She had turned her face inwards +to the pillow, and her slight shoulders were shaking. He +stood a moment, contemplating her in dark vexation. +Then he went out of the room, annoyed with himself, but +still more annoyed with her. +</P> + +<P> +His mind was chaotic. He had just been wondering +what he could do with her—how deal with the preposterous +situation he had himself created—and hardly had +the thoughts formed themselves before he was found +threatening her with penalties in case she should attempt +to disembarrass him of her presence. Dimly he descried +the reason of this apparent inconsistency. It was that +he knew her to be spiritually free of him. He could not +bear that she should be actually free as well. After all, +he had married her. He had his rights. He was her +husband. But, Oh, ye gods, what a child she was—how +easily cowed, how shrinking and timid and all the other +things that he hated! +</P> + +<P> +From the bottom of his heart he wished that he had +never set eyes upon her. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +The following morning the post-bag, when it was +brought to him at breakfast time, contained two letters +for Virginia. One was addressed in the unformed, +sprawling hand which he knew to be Pansy's. The other +was inscribed with a flowing, ornamental script which once +had power to illuminate the world for him, and now produced +in his fermenting mind the most curious mixture of +rage, bitterness, and gratification. +</P> + +<P> +He had determined yesterday to abandon his cruel intention +of overlooking his wife's correspondence. His perusal +of Pansy's letter had been enough. This sight of +his mother-in-law's writing, however, touched him upon +the corrupt spot in his heart, and shook his resolution. +</P> + +<P> +He laid the letter down among his own, before Grover, +who waited near, had seen the address. The letter from +Pansy he handed to her as it was, and joyfully it was +received by its lawful recipient when it arrived upstairs +upon her breakfast tray, the sanctity of its seal inviolate. +</P> + +<P> +When he was alone, Gaunt leaned forward, his elbows +propped upon the table, and held Mrs. Mynors' envelope +in the steam of the spirit kettle which stood upon the +silver tray. +</P> + +<P> +It was easily opened. He drew forth the contents with +a detestable eagerness, and read as follows: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<i>My dearest girl,—</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>This is the first moment that I have felt able to write +to you, so great have been my sufferings, so keen my +humiliation over this mercenary marriage of yours. I +feel as if I had been living in a nightmare ever since that +fatal day when I went to town to meet the inhuman monster +who almost blighted my young life, and has now fastened +his claws into you instead.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>Oh, Virginia! Sooner—far sooner—would I have +gone to the workhouse than be obliged to think of you in +Gaunt's power! But you knew that! Again and again +did I assure you, did I not, how far I was from demanding +this sacrifice at your hands? How is he using you? +That is the question that forces itself upon me every +hour—that keeps me awake at night with the horrors! +Your letter to Pansy was more or less reassuring, I must +own. Perhaps, when he finds how useful and domestic +you are, he may be kinder than my fears suggest?</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>Meantime, I miss you every moment. You will know +how I have always detested the petty meannesses of life, +the half-pounds of cooking butter, the scraps for the stock-pot, +the way the coal disappears, the price of fish—all +the endless, nauseating haggling over pence! To this you +have left me, after all that I have suffered. After the +shattering blows of the death of my first-born, my widowhood, +our ruin—you have taken the hand of a man who +can give you life's good things, and you have left me to +the slavery which you found so unbearable. But I must +not reproach you, for you may be already suffering for +your mistake. Do write me a few lines, and tell me +frankly how he is treating you?</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>If I am wrong, if he is behaving kindly to you, it will +be such a relief to know it. He may, of course, actually +have fallen in love with your looks. You are, as all declare, +absurdly like me. If this should be so, I know, my +darling daughter, that you will use your opportunity to +help me. You must see that the allowance secured to me +is wretchedly inadequate. £300 a year is impossible. It +will mean an existence of continual debt. £400—that +is, a hundred pounds a quarter—might be conceivable. +It is the very lowest upon which one should be called upon +to live. If Gaunt is inclined to be indulgent—if you +have managed to get on his blind side—do strike while +the iron is hot, and have this matter arranged for me, +won't you?</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>It is not as if I asked for riches. Think of what I +have been used to? Think of me here in this odious little +town, non-existent as far as the county is concerned—Me, +Mrs. Bernard Mynors—a prouder name than that of +many a peer. Think of this in your luxury, and spare a +little pity for your wretched mother.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<SPAN CLASS="scap">Virginia Mynors.</SPAN> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Before that letter, Gaunt sat with clenched hands. +The veins in his forehead swelled. How right he had +been—how fatally exact in his forecast as far as the +mother was concerned! How far was he right, after all, +about the daughter? +</P> + +<P> +Could that letter of hers to Pansy have conceivably +been written as a blind—in case he should read it? No. +That was not possible—at least it was not possible that +Pansy's letter to her sister could have been the result of +any kind of premeditation. Besides, the doctor's evidence +of his wife's starved condition. Yet here were reproaches +for the girl who had been obstinately bent upon a mercenary +marriage—a sacrifice which she seemed to have +made against her mother's pleadings! +</P> + +<P> +How did the rest of the letter harmonise with the outburst +of maternal agony which began it? His lip curled, +ever more and more, until all his teeth showed, as he read +once more the suggestion that, if he had been successfully +hoodwinked, he might be bled for an extra hundred a year! +As he sat, staring at the paper, he knew one thing certainly. +<i>He must see the reply to that letter.</i> Moreover, +Virginia must write it under the impression that he would +<i>not</i> see it. +</P> + +<P> +He hardly knew himself as he carefully resealed the +envelope, and satisfied himself that it bore no signs of +having been tampered with. In that moment he felt that +he recked neither of his honour nor of his manhood. He +had no scruples. One thing only stood out in his mind +as essential. He must know how far his wife was victim +and martyr, how far a designing girl. +</P> + +<P> +If she was, as her mother declared her to be—mercenary, +then there were ways, plenty of ways, in which she +might do penance for such fault. But, if it were true that +she had been sacrificed for pure love, that her unselfishness +was so wonderful, so unheard-of, that she really had laid +down her all upon the altar of family affection—why, +then, what would happen? He asked himself desperately, +what <i>could</i> happen? The only solution that occurred to +him at the moment was that he should hang himself. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +When Virginia's tea went upstairs that afternoon, her +mother's letter lay upon the tray, as though it had arrived +by the second post. With it was a note from Gaunt, to +the effect that he was sorry to have to be out that afternoon. +An accident had happened on the estate—a large +tree had fallen, most unexpectedly, and the huge trunk +had blocked the course of the trout-stream, and the water +was flooding a meadow. He hoped to look in upon her +that evening on his return. Then, below his initials: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>For the future I waive my right to inspect your correspondence.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It was late when he came in, wet to the knees and tired +out. He had a bath, changed for the evening, and then, +before going downstairs, rapped on the door of communication +between his own room and Virginia's. +</P> + +<P> +Grover was not there, so there was nobody to see that +the bride turned as white as a sheet. She had not known, +for certain, that his room adjoined her own. +</P> + +<P> +"Come in," she faltered. He pushed the door wide. +</P> + +<P> +She was on a sofa, in the window, and the late evening +light shone through her hair as she turned to him that +face which might have been an angel's. It was the face +that had stood for him for so many years as the expression +of treachery incarnate. Now it gave him the most extraordinary +sensation. +</P> + +<P> +For the first time in their mutual acquaintance she did +not smile. Her look as she faced him was grave and cold. +It seemed that at last his repeated insults had quenched +her timid impulse to friendliness. The thought affected +him profoundly. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope you haven't been too lonely this afternoon?" +he asked haltingly, standing in the doorway. +</P> + +<P> +"No, not at all. Mrs. Ferris came to see me." +</P> + +<P> +"Ha! How did you like her?" +</P> + +<P> +"She seems very kind." The tone was entirely noncommittal. +It seemed to say, "Whether I liked her or +not is no concern of yours." +</P> + +<P> +"H'm! Did she say anything about taking you out +in the motor?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"What did you say?" +</P> + +<P> +"I said I would rather not go." +</P> + +<P> +"You would rather not go?" +</P> + +<P> +She turned her eyes away from him, out to the garden, +and did not speak. He remembered what he had said +the previous day, and guessed how it must have hurt her, +if she were really what he was beginning to believe. +</P> + +<P> +His next words were utterly unpremeditated. "I'll +buy a car and take you out myself." +</P> + +<P> +"That would be safer," she replied gravely. Then she +raised herself on her elbow, searched among her papers +on a little table at her side, and held out a letter to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you put that out to be posted, please?" +</P> + +<P> +He limped across the room and stood quite near—near +enough to take the envelope from her hand. +</P> + +<P> +"You read what I said about your correspondence?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." He thought he could detect an impulse to say +"Thank you," and the determination not to yield to it. +Thanks for the right to breathe! The right to be herself! +He saw that she could not frame it. +</P> + +<P> +The sound of the gong in the hall below was audible. +He turned away—lingered, trying to put together some +sentence expressive of his satisfaction that she should be +on the sofa to-day, but he found the thing too difficult, +and was off with a curt, "Well, good night!" +</P> + +<P> +"Good night," she answered. +</P> + +<P> +When he was back at the door, he turned again and +looked at her. Her whole fair outline, supine upon the +couch, was illumined in a rosy gilding. The room behind +her lay shadowy; her own form on its dark side was +blurred. But that outline against the purple misty garden +without was like a thing of enchantment. So still—so +very beautiful—he thought of an effigy upon a tomb. +He closed the door with a hissing breath drawn between +his teeth. In his hand he held the key to all his doubt—the +reply to the letter he had read. When he had also +read this he would know what he must do; he would be +able to realise what he had already done. +</P> + +<P> +He hastened downstairs feeling like a thief in his own +house. He resented the fact of Hemming's quite natural +presence in the hall, where the servant was busy removing +the sticks, wet gloves, etc., which he had discarded upon +his return home. He disappeared into his study, and sat +down, wondering how his nefarious purpose could be best +achieved, as there was no fire and no spirit-kettle handy. +At first he thought he would have to wait until the following +morning; but he believed that he should not sleep +unless he had snatched the knowledge he so inordinately +desired. +</P> + +<P> +He dined morosely, and there was sympathy in the +kitchen for his lack of appetite. It was not surprising +to Hemming when he brought coffee to find it declined, +and to be ordered to bring in the small spirit-kettle and +the whisky decanter. +</P> + +<P> +Alone at last, with the desired jet of steam, the monomaniac +once more settled himself to his novel pursuit of +tampering with seals. He had done so this morning without +scruple. The letter he now held seemed to him far +more sacred than the other. The blood rushed to his face, +and his heart beat heavily as he peeled back the flap of +the envelope. He felt almost as he might have felt had +he intruded upon Virginia herself, as if he violated something +pure and intact. +</P> + +<P> +The letter was withdrawn. It lay under his relentless +gaze. He took a peep into his wife's very soul. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<i>Mother! Mother!</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>If you had known how it would hurt, you could not +have written to me so! What can I say to you? Can I +reproach my own mother with injustice? Yet I feel I +cannot let you write as you do without telling you how +unkind it sounds.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>What I have done is wrong. I know that now. I half +knew it all the time. But what else was there for me to +do? I believe God knows I did it for the best. I was +at the very end of all my own strength; I was at the very +end of all our money; I had you all dependent upon me; +and I knew I was going to break down.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>I felt I had to serve you, and, oh, mother, you can't, +you simply mustn't, deny that I have done that. Don't, +for pity's sake, talk of my going off to be rich, and leaving +you to the slavery that I found unbearable. That is not +just, it is not true, but all the same it is torture to me that +you should say it.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>The unfairness of it gives me strength to write what +perhaps I might not dare if I were not so indignant, but +it has to be said. Never, never, under any circumstances, +will I ask Osbert to do more for you than he has already +done. Please understand that that is my last word. Last +year we lived on less than £200, including Tony's school +bills, which you will not now have to pay. With care, you +ought to be quite comfortable on what you have.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>I do not know whether Osbert means to make me any +allowance. He has said nothing about it yet, and I cannot +ask him. If he does, you shall have anything I can spare, +you know how little I want myself. At least, I ought to +be able to keep Tony in pocket-money, the darling has +suffered so from not having any. At this moment I have +five shillings in the world, which I must use to buy materials +to embroider a kimono for my Pansy. I promised +her that! It is to be blue, with pale pink embroidery. +Tell her I have not forgotten; I will get it next time I go +out shopping.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>I have been resting all yesterday and to-day, and I +think I shall soon pick up my strength; but not if you +write me such cruel letters. Oh, mother, for father's sake, +who told me always to take care of you, don't let me think +that what I have done has been all in vain!</i> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<SPAN CLASS="scap">Virginia.</SPAN> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Osbert Gaunt pushed back his chair. His face was +ghastly, and the drops stood on his forehead. He felt as +if the house were too small, too close, to contain him. +With shaking hands he pushed the letter and its envelope +into a drawer, stumbled to his feet, hastened from the +room, snatched a hat from the hall, and went out into the +moonlight. +</P> + +<P> +He walked on blindly, striding fast, taking the direction +that led him down into the long avenue through the +park, from which one approached the house upon its +southern side. He knew now what he had done. He +had immolated an innocent victim. He felt as if there +might be blood upon his hands. Stories are told of men +who, having lost the use of a portion of the brain, have +had this restored by means of a sudden shock or a terrific +blow. Something of the kind had now happened to +Gaunt. He looked back upon the man whom he had been, +whom he had gradually become, during the past twenty +years, as upon a leper. He shuddered at the very idea of +such a monster. +</P> + +<P> +Always before the eye of his imagination was the outline +of Virginia's pale beauty, suffused with rose and gold. +He recalled her patient quietude, her dignity and sadness. +He knew now what she had been feeling. She had been +quivering under the lash of her mother's diabolical selfishness; +she had just relieved the anguish of her soul by writing +that letter. +</P> + +<P> +And he! What of the man who had tempted her? +</P> + +<P> +A wild idea of crawling to her feet, of kissing them, of +crying to her for pardon, turned him about and sent him +striding unevenly half a mile upon his homeward way. +</P> + +<P> +The futility of such a course suddenly struck him and +once more turned him back. +</P> + +<P> +She might pardon. Yes. She was the sort of nature +that would pardon. How might that help their future +together? He knew that there could be no such thing as a +future together for them. He hardly wished it. +</P> + +<P> +His passion of pity and remorse was quite untinged +with any passion of desire. He thought of Virgie as of +a saint, a creature apart, something to be rescued from +himself, if such an end could possibly be compassed. If +he spoke to her, if he begged forgiveness, he would have +to confess his own late action. He would have to say: +"I am such a cad, so lost to any sense of honour, that I +first assured you of the safety of your private correspondence, +and then deliberately read it." +</P> + +<P> +He could not do that. +</P> + +<P> +To one emotion of the human soul this man had been +for years a stranger—tenderness. +</P> + +<P> +The first invasion of his breast by the new-comer was +torture. He had not wept since he could remember. +Now his lashes were thick with the drops which the pathos +of Virginia wrung from his unwilling spirit. He contemplated +her as a man may study the outstanding merits +of his patron saint, seeing her inner and her outward loveliness. +Her reticence—the way in which she concealed +from her mother all that he had made her bear! She +made no complaint, left herself almost completely out of +sight, was only passionately anxious for reassurance, to +be consoled by the knowledge that her sacrifice had not +been in vain for <i>them</i>! Pity flooded him. When he +had been walking a long way he became aware that he was +sobbing audibly. +</P> + +<P> +This pain of unavailing compassion was maddening. +What could he do? He had humiliated this rare creature, +laid rough hands upon her, borne her off far from every +one she loved. Yes, incredible though it seemed, she +actually loved that mother—that trivial wanton upon +whom he himself had lavished all that was best in him +during the long, fruitless years that the locust had eaten. +</P> + +<P> +Frustration—misunderstanding—injustice—and +helpless regret! +</P> + +<P> +This is life, and the old Greeks knew it. He thought +of the majestic dramas of wrong and passion and irretrievable +disaster. He thought of Clytemnestra and +Electra. They sound crude to us, the ancient stories—crude +and bloody. We do not slay our husbands with +axes in these days. Virginia Sheringham had not, in act, +been an unfaithful wife; but by her neglect, her lightness, +her extravagance and selfishness, she had ruined her husband +financially, had contributed to his early death.... +</P> + +<P> +... And she had handed over her daughter to Gaunt +as calmly as Clytemnestra handed over Electra to the +swine-herd. +</P> + +<P> +Human nature—ancient—modern! The setting different, +the actions different, the motives eternally the +same. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +It was nearly two o'clock when, weary and footsore, +Gaunt let himself in with his latch-key, through the door +left purposely unlocked by Hemming, who was wholly +astonished at finding that his master was out of doors +when it came to shutting-up time. +</P> + +<P> +Like a thief he crept to the study, re-sealed with infinite +precaution the envelope he had opened, and slipped it into +the post-bag. +</P> + +<P> +Later, as he lay rigid, open-eyed, in his bed, watching +the dawn creep on, it almost seemed to him as if the tumult +and energy of his thoughts must travel through the door +and penetrate to the silent room within—to the little +golden head which, please God, was forgetting its sorrows +temporarily in dreams. +</P> + +<P> +If he could but send her a wordless message—some +deep impression of penitence, of reverence, of his hunger +to be forgiven! +</P> + +<P> +Could this indeed be Gaunt of Omberleigh? Changed, +the whole structure of his character demolished in a few +hours by mere contact with the crystal honesty of a very +simple girl! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +NO PLACE OF REPENTANCE +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>The moving finger writes; and, having writ,<BR> + Moves on. Nor all your piety nor wit<BR> + Can lure it back to cancel half a line,<BR> + Nor all your tears wash out a word of it.</i>"<BR> + —<SPAN CLASS="scap">Omar Khayyám</SPAN>.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Next morning, when Virginia's breakfast-tray went up, +there lay upon it a fat envelope, addressed to her in pencil +by Gaunt. It contained a packet of bank-notes, with the +intimation that this was her first quarter's allowance of +pocket-money. He added that he should expect her to +keep an account of what she spent, and that her account-book +should be accessible to him on demand. +</P> + +<P> +He hardly knew how to describe the impulse which +made him throw in that stipulation. It came primarily +from a desire to gloat over the beauties of this character +so suddenly revealed to him. He wanted to know what +proportion of his somewhat lavish gift was spent upon +herself, and how much went to the shark at Laburnum +Villa. +</P> + +<P> +There was another lurking idea. He could not, or, +rather, would not, fling away his control over her while +as yet he had no other ties with which to bind her to himself. +Had he yielded to his first impulse, and thrown +himself at her feet for pardon, the result could be easily +forecast. She would give him a gentle, chilly forgiveness, +and he would have to step back and let her go, see +her pass away altogether, without any knowledge of him, +ignorant of what manner of man he really was. +</P> + +<P> +If he abandoned his present position entirely, he must, +logically, admit that he had no more right to her than the +nearest man breaking stones in the road. She would +stoop to bestow forgiveness, and then depart; and it +dawned upon him that, embarrassing though her presence +had now become, her absence would be worse. These few +days of her sojourn had already wrought a subtle change +in all about him. When he met Grover coming upstairs +with a tray, her face wore a look of interest, of sympathy, +which he had never before observed. She had taken to +putting flowers about the rooms—a wholly new departure +at Omberleigh. Only that morning he had caught Mrs. +Wells half-way upstairs with a sheepish expression of +countenance, and something concealed under her apron, +which, on inquiry, was admitted to be kittens, the mistress +having expressed a desire for their company. After the +woman had passed, he lingered on the stairs, heard her +admitted, heard the little spontaneous exclamation of +pleasure which greeted the appearance of the babes. The +chattering, laughing voices of Wells and Grover were +blended with a faint mewing. It was all very childish, +and as he went down he thought he scorned it. But if it +were all to cease? +</P> + +<P> +These considerations, formless and not consciously held, +were, as a fact, of more weight with him than even the +other aspect of the question—the scandal that would arise, +the talk that must ensue, the contemptuous pity that he +might receive—should his marriage experiment abruptly +terminate at the end of so brief a trial. Just then he +saw no way to end the present situation. He must wait +and allow it to develop. He must make further proof of +the spotless integrity of his wife. She was not strong +enough to face a scene as yet. He could not see clearly, +his thoughts were confused. For the first time in twenty +years he found himself no longer pursuing one aim with +reckless disregard of everything else, but fumbling, hesitating, +uncertain what to do. +</P> + +<P> +He was a J.P., and this was his day for sitting on +the bench. He had a long way to drive to the court. It +was an important occasion, since there had been considerable +disorder in Hoadlam, a large manufacturing town, +and many of those implicated came from his own district. +Gaunt's knowledge of law was valuable to his fellow magistrates, +and he had had the previous day a note from Lord +St. Aukmund congratulating him on his marriage, but +begging him not to let his honeymoon prevent him from +attending that day. This note Gaunt enclosed with the +bank-notes to his wife, telling her that he must be away +all day. He added: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>If Mrs. Ferris asks you again to go out with her, I +should advise your accepting if you feel well enough.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +That day was pouring wet, and he reached home so late +that it seemed wrong to disturb Virginia. The next morning +Hugh Caunter came for him before seven o'clock. +The flooding of the meadow where the tree had fallen had +become serious. Gaunt arose and went out, breakfasted +with Caunter at his house, and did not get home till nearly +noon. He returned by the uphill avenue which approached +the house by way of the garden—that avenue +down which he had plunged in the moonlight, trying to +allay the disorder of his mind after reading Virginia's +letter. +</P> + +<P> +As he walked somewhat slowly up the road, which grew +steeper as it entered the garden, he heard the sound of +voices on the breeze. The morning, which had broken +cloudy, had developed into a fine, warm day. The heavy +rain of yesterday had brought out the scents of the flowers, +and the very earth was fragrant. On the terrace, in a +lounge chair, lay Virginia, and Joey Ferris was sitting +near, relating something in her loud, hearty tones, some +story which brought laughter from the listening girl. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt's heart began to thump. He had not seen her +since his treachery and subsequent conversion. He left +the avenue and struck into a path which would bring him +to where they sat. The chair in which his wife was placed +had a striped awning to keep her from the sun. She therefore +wore no hat. He thought her more like a patron +saint—a Virgin martyr—than ever. The background +might have been the canopy in some old Florentine painting, +with a glimpse of flowery garden seen beyond. +</P> + +<P> +He had the mortification of seeing the laughter wiped +from her face as she caught sight of him. +</P> + +<P> +"There is my husband," said she to Joey; and Mrs. +Ferris jumped up, too eager to shower congratulations +upon the bridegroom to heed the expression of either face. +</P> + +<P> +She ran along the terrace to meet him, intercepted him, +shook hands as with the handle of a pump, shouted her +chaff upon his change of attitude towards things feminine. +He bore it marvellously, managing to approach nearer +Virginia's chair while the storm broke over him. As soon +as he could get in a word: +</P> + +<P> +"You are very good," he said, "and I expect I deserve +all you say. Men, after all, are only very moderately intelligent +animals, you know. They have to wait until +some lady takes enough interest in them to teach them +these things. But forgive me a moment—I had to go +out before seven this morning, and have not seen my wife. +I must just ask her how she is." +</P> + +<P> +He drew up a chair close to the couch, and took an +unwilling hand in his. Things psychological did not, as +a rule, interest him, but now he found himself wondering +how it was possible to withdraw all response from a warm, +living hand so that it should lie in one's own like something +dead. +</P> + +<P> +"How are you this morning?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +His eyes seemed to her to be imploring her to play up, +not to allow Mrs. Ferris to suppose that she was scared. +"Why, you can see how much better I am," she answered, +responding to the unspoken desire, but withdrawing her +hand from his clasp. "Here am I out here in the sunshine, +and it is so nice. I am planning what you ought +to do with this terrace garden. Mrs. Ferris is fond of +gardens, too." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed!" He turned politely to Joey. "You're +not satisfied with mine, either of you, that's evident," he +said, with an immense effort to be friendly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it isn't my place to criticise," laughed Joey gaily. +"But Mrs. Gaunt has got taste. She says she has been +lying at her window, the past few days, thinking what she +could do here; and if it was done, you'd have the show-garden +of the county!" +</P> + +<P> +"If she wants it done, you may feel pretty sure it will +be done," said Gaunt; and he saw the slight curl of the +mouth he was watching, at what Virginia took to be a +cruel bit of mockery. "I am much indebted to you, Mrs. +Ferris, for coming to cheer up my girl," he went on hurriedly. +"She is doing a kind of rest-cure, you know, and +it's rather hard lines, both on her and me. However, it is +very necessary. She has been overtaxing her strength for +months, and we must be patient until she is quite strong +again." +</P> + +<P> +"You're a regular trump," replied Joey with warmth. +"You bet she'll pick up soon enough in this air, and with +everything she wants. I am coming to fetch her in the +motor this afternoon. Shall you mind if I take her home +to tea? I want to show her my kiddies." +</P> + +<P> +He expressed his entire willingness that they should +amuse themselves as they liked, and for some minutes the +talk sounded almost natural. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you pressed Mrs. Ferris to stay to lunch, Virginia?" +asked Gaunt after ten minutes' chat. +</P> + +<P> +She lifted her eyes to his as she answered quite shortly: +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"But, of course, you understand that we shall insist +upon your staying?" said Gaunt almost courteously to the +visitor. +</P> + +<P> +"Jolly nice of you, but can't be done," replied Joey. +"Got my old man and the kiddies to consider. They +have a kind of idea that they can't eat their food unless +I'm there. I must be off at once." She stood up. "You +see, I came on foot, through the woods, and I must get +back, because I have to bring round the car, and also to +get my big coat. Mind you see that your Dresden china +there is well wrapped up, won't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"It must be over a mile through the woods," objected +Gaunt, rising. "Let me order the cart——" +</P> + +<P> +She cut him short. "Bless the man! What's a mile? +I do it in ten. I'm as strong as a horse. No, you don't +come with me. Stop along o' your missus. I know every +step of the way." +</P> + +<P> +He accompanied her to the end of the terrace, saw her +run down the hill and disappear through the little gate +into the woods. Then he came slowly back to where his +wife lay awaiting him with lowered lids. She was softly +stroking two of the kittens who lay curled into balls in her +lap. +</P> + +<P> +He sat down again beside her. His vicinity made her +quiver, but she controlled her nerves valiantly. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you for the note you sent me yesterday," she +said, "and the enclosure. I do not want so large an +allowance as you are giving me." +</P> + +<P> +"Try it for a year," he told her. "If it is too much, +you need not spend it. Save it up against a rainy day." +</P> + +<P> +"<i>A year!</i>" The words escaped her unawares. It was +as if she said, "<i>A century!</i>" Well, he had told her it +was a life-sentence. The prospect of that future made +the sunshine dim, and for a moment she felt as though +she could not bear it. +</P> + +<P> +"While we are on the subject," he went on, ignoring +the faint cry, though he heard it well enough, "I mean +the subject of allowances, I am wondering whether I am +allowing your mother enough. Since I saw you first I +have let Lissendean at a very good rent, and I have been +thinking I might spare another hundred——" +</P> + +<P> +"Stop!" She was quite white—even her lips lost +colour. "On no account!" she gasped. "It is quite +enough—more than enough! You have bought me and +paid the price. It is done with. I can't talk about it." +</P> + +<P> +Her pallor frightened him. "By all means, if it affects +you so," he replied at once. "I certainly don't want +to bother you. Sorry I blunder so badly. Let us talk of +something else. How did you get downstairs this morning?" +</P> + +<P> +"Hemming was very clever. He remembered that the +old ladies who lived here had a carrying-chair, and he +found it in the coach-house. He scrubbed it, and Grover +and he carried me down quite easily." +</P> + +<P> +"Here comes Hemming to say that our lunch is ready," +he broke in. "I can carry you indoors." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, no, please!" she broke out in distaste which +she could not control. "Hemming is bringing the chair. +Don't trouble yourself—I can easily——" +</P> + +<P> +Hemming was quite near, so Gaunt made no further +protest. Grover had likewise appeared, and soon had the +invalid carefully placed in the chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Doctor said this morning that 'twould do her no harm +to put her feet down for meals, provided she don't stand +on 'em," she remarked; and the two men picked up and +carried the light weight into the house. +</P> + +<P> +There was little embarrassment during lunch, for they +were not <i>tête-à-tête</i>. Grover and Hemming seemed to be +hovering about Mrs. Gaunt all the time with little dishes +specially prepared, and they did not withdraw finally +until the cheese was on the table. Then, indeed, silence +dropped deeply. Evidently Virginia had come to the end +of her former policy. He was to have no more "prattle." +She sat quite silent, sipping her prescribed champagne +and eating a biscuit. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt lit a cigarette, and smoked for a few minutes +without attempting conversation. Then he rose, laying +the stump carefully in his plate, and came to the hearth-rug, +half-way between his place and hers. +</P> + +<P> +"You would like to go up to your room and rest before +getting ready for your drive?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Presently, thank you—when Hemming comes back." +</P> + +<P> +"I can carry you quite easily. I should like to." +</P> + +<P> +"I would rather not. Please let me wait." +</P> + +<P> +He came a step nearer. "Is it that you don't want to +give me trouble, or that you won't let me touch you?" he +asked with a sort of breathlessness. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, of course, because you must not take the trouble," +she faltered hastily, not daring to say that his other surmise +was the truth. The sequel to this hollow politeness +was what she might have imagined. "Then I shall take +you." +</P> + +<P> +He came close up, and she gave a little cry, rather like +a small furry thing in a trap. The sound caused him to +lose his head, and determine to do as he liked. Stooping, +he placed his arms under her securely. +</P> + +<P> +"Put your arms round my neck," he bade her curtly. +She obeyed, as she had schooled herself to obey every direct +order given by him. +</P> + +<P> +He stood upright, raising her in his arms, and strode +from the room with her. He could actually hear the +pulsings of her heart against his ear, and the hurry of +her panting, sobbing breath. +</P> + +<P> +He <i>was</i> her husband, and he <i>was</i> going to carry her +upstairs, if he chose! +</P> + +<P> +He did so without difficulty, and laid her down carefully +upon the sofa in her room, looking with a wistfulness +almost pitiful, had she seen it, upon her sick, averted +face. Was there nothing—absolutely nothing—that he +could say or do to wipe out the bitterness of his former +conduct? +</P> + +<P> +He took a turn through the room, walked to the window, +stared moodily out upon the garden. He had an +impulse to say to her: "The garden is yours, do as you +like with it—order what you like—plan, direct, assume +command." But what would that avail? See how she +had received his lavish gift of money, his offer of an increased +allowance to her mother! He had put himself out +of court. +</P> + +<P> +There were sounds of panting, and Grover's substantial +foot caused the stairs to creak. She entered, flushed but +beaming. +</P> + +<P> +"If I didn't say so to Hemming! I says: 'See if +he doesn't take and carry her up himself,' I says," she +remarked brightly. "Now, ma'am, I suppose you will +wear the dear little motor-bonnet and veil; but the puzzle +is—what are you going to do for a coat? There isn't a +thick one in all your things!" +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt exploded in the window. "Great Scott, what do +you suppose you are for, but to look to your mistress's +things and see that she has what she wants?" he cried. +"The moment you have finished dressing her, you sit +down and write to London for fur coats—sable, seal—whatever +she prefers, and make them send down a consignment +to look at. Or perhaps I had better do it myself, +as you seem so incompetent." He turned fiercely to +Virginia, whom sheer surprise had caused to sit up and +stare. "You shall have a coat by to-night, if I go to +London for it myself!" he stormed. +</P> + +<P> +"Please, Osbert," said her clear voice, "you don't understand. +I have a white serge coat which is warm +enough for to-day, and you have given me plenty of money +to buy myself a thicker one." +</P> + +<P> +"There now, and I put it to air in the work-room," +muttered Grover, who had stood like what is known as a +"stuck pig" during her master's outburst, and who now +hurried from the room, divided between laughter and +anxiety. +</P> + +<P> +"No wonder he's beside himself; but he shouldn't shout +like that," she thought. "It's my belief he frightens her, +and she won't get well while that goes on. Poor chap!" +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile, Gaunt, swept on by the impulse to do or +say something that might please, was floundering worse +than ever. "You must have a good coat," he hectored, +standing over the sofa. "You can't buy that sort of +thing out of a dress-allowance. I will give you one. I'll +see that you have what's necessary. You mustn't risk +taking a chill——" +</P> + +<P> +With a kind of bound she sat up, her hands clenched +upon the cushions that supported her. Her expression +checked his words in mid-flow. +</P> + +<P> +"Stop, stop—you must <i>stop</i>!" she cried piercingly, +"or I don't know what will happen! You think a woman +is a thing you can beat, swear at, insult, and then appease +with presents! Didn't I tell you I would have no gifts +from you? I'll bear your unkindness, but I won't take +your presents! If you could understand—oh, how can +I make you understand?" +</P> + +<P> +Lifting her hands, she held them before her, glaring +upon them as if they were contaminated. Fumbling in +her vehement haste, she pulled off her wedding-ring and +both the others which he had given her, and flung them +upon the floor at his feet. "I wear them when I must," +she sobbed out; "but at night I tear them off! I shake +myself free of them, and then I feel clean—clean at last! +I lie down in bed and tell myself that I am just Virgie +Mynors again—as I used to be—ill, hungry, penniless—but +clean! <i>Clean!</i>" +</P> + +<P> +As suddenly as she had upreared herself she collapsed, +hid her face and lay prone while the sobbing tore her and +shook her slight frame. +</P> + +<P> +He stood some seconds motionless. Her outburst +seemed to have frozen him. Then, in silence, he picked +up her rings, laid them on the little table at her side, and +walked away into his own room, shutting the door behind +him. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +RENOUNCEMENT +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>I must not think of thee; and, tired yet strong,<BR> + I shun the thought that lurks in all delight—<BR> + The thought of thee—and in the blue Heaven's height,<BR> + And in the sweetest passage of a song.</i><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + <i>Oh, just beyond the fairest thoughts that throng<BR> + This breast, the thought of thee awaits, hidden yet bright;<BR> + But it must never, never come in sight;<BR> + I must go short of thee, the whole day long.</i>"<BR> + —<SPAN CLASS="scap">Alice Meynell</SPAN>.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It was upon the following day that Dr. Dymock asked +to see Gaunt, and with all the diplomacy that he could +muster, begged him to keep away from his wife entirely +for a fortnight at least. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not like her state of evident mental tension," he +said. "She seems strung up to an unnatural pitch, and +in these cases we always find that the society of those who +are nearest and dearest has a disturbing effect. The whole +structure of your future happiness probably depends upon +your patience and forbearance now. There are many girls +who can, so to speak, take marriage in their stride, without +its making any perceptible difference. She is not like +that. She is acutely sensitive, just now abnormally so; +and, unfortunately for you, she was at the time of her marriage +seriously out of health. At present she is not what +is unscientifically known as hysterical; but she might +become so, as the result of quite a small error of judgment +on our part. I shall make it clear to her that you are +keeping away entirely out of consideration for her, and I +will also speak to your servants, who have been with you +long, and are trustworthy. Nobody else need know anything +of the matter. You could hardly have a better companion +for her than Mrs. Ferris, who has no nerves, who +is not observant, and who will keep her amused without +wanting to pry into her feelings." +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt was lighting a cigar, sheltering the match from +the wind with his hand, so that his expression revealed +nothing. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll do anything on earth that you advise," he replied +after a minute. "I expect you are right. I do blunder. +I find myself blundering. The fact is, I know nothing of +women. This was very sudden with me, and I—I +haven't gone the right way to work. I need hardly say +that her happiness is the first consideration." +</P> + +<P> +"If you feel that, I expect it will all come right," +Dymock told him hopefully. "Your forbearance is bound +to impress her. I will see that it does impress her. In +two or three weeks she will be a different creature. Even +then you must let her come along at her own pace. She +wants delicate handling." +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt said nothing, but shrugged his shoulders as if he +felt himself incapable of the requisite diplomacy. So the +other went on: +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, I guess at the circumstances. You fell +abruptly in love—you found the lady in a position from +which you felt she must be instantly rescued. Your +marriage came, as it were, too early in the programme. +Well—you must do what a good many other men have +done successfully—begin your wooing after you are wed. +I seem to have a pretty cool cheek, talking to you like +this—what?" +</P> + +<P> +"Circumstances justify you, I think," replied Gaunt. +He did not speak as if he were offended, but his voice did +not invite further admonition. +</P> + +<P> +Dymock rose to go, and for the first time in his life +found himself thinking sympathetically of Gaunt of Omberleigh. +How was this affair going to pan out, he wondered. +</P> + +<P> +He turned on the doorstep. "She's anxious about her +little sister, I gather," said he. +</P> + +<P> +"The child has been taken to London to undergo +treatment," replied Gaunt. "Is she not doing well? I +had not heard that." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, she was only moved to London yesterday, so +nothing can be known yet. However, Mrs. Gaunt is +anxious." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean that she wants to be there? Ought one +to let her go?" asked Gaunt, startled. +</P> + +<P> +"On no account. She is quite unfit for such exertion. +Only, if it can be done, arrange that she gets good news, +that nobody writes disquieting bulletins." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll see to that," replied Gaunt with emphasis, as the +doctor rode off. +</P> + +<P> +This was a chance to send a line to his mother-in-law—a +chance of which he would take the fullest advantage. +He would write also to the head of the nursing home where +Pansy was installed, directing that his wife should be as +much reassured as was consistent with the facts. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +During the days that followed found Gaunt himself +the object of a universal sympathy and kindness. Dr. +Dymock had dropped hints, among those of his patients +best famed for gossiping, as to the chivalrous nature of the +misogynist's marriage. It seemed that he had found a +fair maiden languishing in bondage, and had endowed her +with the half of his kingdom. Unfortunately, she had +suffered so severely as to undermine her health, and the +first task for the newly made husband was to have her +properly nursed and fed. +</P> + +<P> +This, of course, explained why he had not taken her +upon a wedding tour. That would doubtless come later, +when she was strong enough to enjoy it. Rumours of +her beauty and of Gaunt's devotion were rife. When he +drove into the market town he found people cordial after +a wholly new fashion. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile, he himself was changing to an extent of +which he was far from being aware. The heart and head +which for so many years had been wholly occupied with +self, were now filled exclusively with the image of another. +As the days passed, and he held rigidly to his promise to +Dr. Dymock, his thoughts were more and more completely +given up to the question of Virginia's future health and +happiness. Some deep-lying shyness had prevented his +admitting to the doctor that, except for the ceremony, she +was not as yet his wife. Yet he had this fact in reserve, +as perhaps his only chance to restore to her her freedom. +</P> + +<P> +He recognised that, as soon as she was strong enough, +he and she must come to an understanding. He must +show her his change of heart, and if it could be done, he +must give her liberty. She would have to know that +he was no longer her jailer, but her devotee. +</P> + +<P> +He could see now how for all these years he had been +yielding himself prisoner to the devil, and how his apprenticeship +had culminated in the perpetration of a devilish +deed. Night and day he was haunted by the memory of +Virginia sitting up, tearing his jewels from her fingers, +wringing her bare hands and crying that she was not clean. +</P> + +<P> +These new thoughts, of pity and regret and unavailing +tenderness, began to touch the lines of his mouth, to alter +the expression of his eyes. He no longer went about +scowling. He was seeing the world through a new +medium. It was terrible to be able to do nothing. Virginia's +vehement repudiation of gifts from him left him +helpless. He dare not even send up flowers in his own +name. He had to be content with seeking out the finest +plants in the conservatory, the best blooms of the garden, +and giving them to Grover. Carnations seemed to be in +favour, and he sent to Derby for fine specimens. One day, +in the innocence of her heart, Grover revealed the fact to +the patient, who was inhaling with satisfaction the spicy +perfume of some particularly fine ones. Virginia said +nothing at the time, but about half an hour after remarked +that her head ached, and she thought the flowers smelt too +strong. She sent them downstairs and said she would +have no more carnations. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt, when he found the whole array on the table in +the hall, asked the reason, and was told that Mrs. Gaunt +seemed to have turned against them. Intent upon knowing +the worst, he said: "Oh, you should have told her that +I sent for them expressly." +</P> + +<P> +"Just what I did tell her, sir," replied Grover at once. +</P> + +<P> +He himself was startled by the pain this trifling fact +caused him to feel. He went out of doors, and walked for +hours, trying to escape from it. He found Hugh Caunter, +and passed the rest of the day with him. The young +agent, or bailiff, as the old-fashioned folk called him, was +struck by the softening of his master's whole disposition. +Anxiety and remorse did not make Gaunt irritable. He +became quiet, with a hopeless kind of passive unhappiness +which seemed to feel itself to be irremediable. Only now +and then did he break out into sudden spasms of rage +which, in the opinion of his household, were most excusable +and infinitely preferable to his former continual surliness. +</P> + +<P> +He was more approachable these days. Each morning +he waited for the doctor and walked with him down the +avenue, hearing the latest bulletin. When he came in, +Grover usually contrived to be about, to pass on to him any +details of interest. +</P> + +<P> +"Better news from London this morning, sir. Yes, it +has sent up Mrs. Gaunt's spirits something wonderful. +Gave each of the little cats a new ribbon, she has. Yes, +she has give them strange names, that she has. Cosmo +and Damian, she calls 'em; and when I asked why such +outlandish names, she laughs and says that they were doctors—great +men, kind to the poor—and that she loves +doctors, because they are going to make her little sister +well. Fairly wrapped up in that little girl, she is, sir. I +fear to think what the consequences would be if anything +was to go wrong with the child. Has her photo there on +the table beside her bed, with fresh flowers in front of it +every day; and the boy, too—a handsome young gentleman, +if you like! He will enjoy spending his holidays +here, won't he, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +Grover herself wondered how she dared to chatter in +this way to him. The change must have been very +marked. A month ago she had hardly opened her lips to +him during her seven years' service in his house, except for +the necessary conventional words she was obliged to speak. +To-day, the silence in which he heard her had lacked any +audible sign of encouragement. Yet it had encouraged. +It had been the silence that eagerly awaits—that longs +for more. +</P> + +<P> +Cosmo and Damian! Surely the set lips under the +heavy moustache were curving into an unwilling smile. +How young it was—how freakish! How strangely he +relished it! To have a creature like that always about +him! +</P> + +<P> +If he had only known!... +</P> + +<P> +Definitely he had rendered his own happiness impossible. +For his mind had begun to reach out, to curl itself +about the idea of a new, strange happiness, subtle and +flooding—happiness that must spring from this single-minded, +loving, exquisite child, whom he had imprisoned +in his gloomy fortress. +</P> + +<P> +He wandered aimlessly into his study, sat down at his +writing table, rested his elbows upon it, his chin on his +hands, and stared out upon the garden without moving for +nearly an hour. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Virginia's first visit to Perley Hatch gave her food for +much reflection. +</P> + +<P> +They motored there upon a fine sultry afternoon, and +the chauffeur and his mistress made a "sedan chair" with +their locked hands, to carry the invalid from the car across +the grass to where a long chair had been spread for her +in the shade. +</P> + +<P> +Tom and Bill were produced from somewhere in the +grounds, with more or less grimy faces and shabby overalls, +but very healthy and vivacious manners. They +quickly made friends with Mrs. Gaunt, divining a sympathetic +spirit from the first. The baby, a damsel of about +twelve months, being still largely in her nurse's hands, +was cleaner and more amenable, but just as hilarious. +The two boys were both frankly ugly, but the girl had +taken after her somewhat showy father, and was a handsome +child, of whom her mother was justly proud. She +danced upon Virgie's lap, stroked her face, and tried +earnestly to feed her with the soppy remnants of a biscuit, +which was her own idea of the greatest civility possible +to offer. +</P> + +<P> +Virgie, gifted with an innate understanding of babyhood, +was delighted with these amenities. She enjoyed +her visit thoroughly, and was startled when a stable clock +struck six times. +</P> + +<P> +"Six o'clock! Oh, Mrs. Ferris, it can't be!" cried she +in consternation. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I daresay that's a bit fast," replied Joey comfortably. +"Anyhow, here comes Percy, so you must just +wait five minutes and make friends with him." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Ferris, with every sign of animation and surprise, +was advancing across the grass. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Jo, you never told me that you expected Mrs. +Gaunt to tea! This is an unlooked-for pleasure!" He +shook hands with effusion, and Virgie felt repugnance in +every nerve. The man's voice, his manner, even his good +looks, were obviously second-rate. He sat down and began +to make himself agreeable—or so he thought—by talk +of the emptiest, and glances of the most eloquent. Almost +everything he said was a scarcely veiled compliment. +Joey had risen, and was helping nurse to remove the +family, which was not inclined to part from the new friend +who knew so much about steam engines and the other +prime interests of life. Ferris had ten minutes' talk with +the new beauty, and flattered himself that he made the +most of his opportunity. +</P> + +<P> +His fawning turned Virgie almost sick. From her +heart she pitied Joey. But that young person was apparently +well satisfied with her lot, and quite impervious to +the fact that her husband was a bounder. As soon as she +came back to the tea-table, Virgie urgently said that she +must go. The doctor would not approve of her being out +so many hours, even though she had rested all the time, +and been so happy and well amused. Then at once Ferris +offered to carry her to the car, and hardly waited for permission +before taking her up in his arms, and at once +seizing the chance to whisper something to the effect that +Gaunt was, in his opinion, more to be envied than any man +under the sun. +</P> + +<P> +"What, to have his wife fall ill when he had been two +days married? I don't fancy he would agree with you," +replied Mrs. Gaunt, in a voice so frigid that it pierced +even Ferris's hide and made him say to himself that he +must put the brake on. +</P> + +<P> +When he had deposited what he alluded to as his "fair +burden" in her place, Virgie was almost ready to think +that Gaunt's own arms were preferable. He, at least, took +no unfair advantage of proximity. Joey took the steering +wheel, and Ferris, after starting the engine for her, +actually suggested that he should get in with Mrs. Gaunt. +To her untold relief Joey declared that Mrs. Gaunt was +an invalid, and already overtired. To her dismay, the +man seemed inclined to persist, and the matter was finally +settled by Joey's giving up the driver's seat to him, and +herself getting into the tonneau with Virgie. +</P> + +<P> +"He doesn't mean to bore people, but he certainly +would have bored you all the way home with the story of +his treasure cave," she remarked as they drove off. +</P> + +<P> +"His treasure cave!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. He thinks he has made a discovery. You +know, part of our land includes the valley they call +Branterdale. I expect Mr. Gaunt has told you that all +this part of Derbyshire is limestone rock, and it is honeycombed +with caves. We did not know we had any on our +land, but the other day—that is, I should say, last season—when +we were huntin', the fox ran across the river, +and disappeared as if the earth had swallowed him. It +was a narrow bit of the stream, between rocks, the bit that +the guide-books tell you is like Dovedale in miniature. +Of course, they all hunted and poked about, but they did +not find so much as a rabbit-burrow. However, the thing +worked in Percy's mind, and he went over afterwards on +the quiet with the huntsman. This man, Gibbs, is a +clever fellow, and he said the fox ran up the side of the +rocky wall quite a long way; he saw the waving of the +briers as he ran, and that the seekers had looked much too +low down. +</P> + +<P> +"So Percy let him down on a rope from the top—it's +a sort of little cliff, you know, too steep for a man to climb +just there—and they found the cave mouth under a great +growth of blackberry bushes and fern." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, how exciting!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it was. The entrance was so small, they had to +chip the rock to make it big enough for them to crawl in, +and it was narrow when they got inside—like a mere slit +in the ground, but soon it widened out, and then there +came a low tunnel, and it went downwards, and after that +they came out into a huge cave, with pillars of stalactite." +</P> + +<P> +"It must have made quite an excitement." +</P> + +<P> +"It was a bally nuisance," was Joey's elegant response. +"The papers got hold of it, and before you could say +'knife' all the geologists in the kingdom wanted to come +hunting for bones. Well, you see, we had to let them in, +we couldn't very well keep them out. They grubbed and +grubbed, but they didn't get much, because they say at no +time could the entrance have been big enough to admit a +large animal. Percy went with them, and watched them +when they grubbed, to make sure that they didn't take anything +away without leave, or keep any finds dark. And +one day he found something that they were not looking +for." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! What was that?" +</P> + +<P> +"A pocket of lead. Quite a big one. You know, this +county used to be mined for lead. The Speedwell cavern +was really a mine at first. So he said nothing to anybody, +but he got hold of an expert, who thought it quite +promising; and now he wants to find people to subscribe +capital, and work the lead. Wouldn't it be splendid if he +found some?" +</P> + +<P> +"It would indeed." +</P> + +<P> +"You see, the land has belonged to my forefathers ever +since the fourteenth century," said Joey. "Nobody has +touched it; that bit of the river bank has never been used +for anything. If we should strike it rich, it would not be +so very surprising." +</P> + +<P> +"You will have to come and see the cave as soon as you +are well enough to walk, Mrs. Gaunt," said Ferris, turning +round with a smile which he himself thought enough to +melt the most stony-hearted beauty. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +WHAT COMES NEXT? +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>But, ah! for a man to arise in me,<BR> + That the man I am may cease to be!</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Tennyson.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Joey was in her garden next morning, tying up dahlias, +whose heads, heavy with bloom, were beginning to droop, +when she caught sight of the doctor crossing the lawn. +</P> + +<P> +"Hallo!" she said cheerfully, pushing back her untidy +hair from her red, hot face. "How are you? Been to +Omberleigh? Does she want to change the time of her +drive?" +</P> + +<P> +"She sent no message," he replied, when he had shaken +hands. "I have come to see you 'on my own,' as I expect +you would put it. I want to say something to you." +</P> + +<P> +"Cough it up," said Joey, speaking lightly enough, but +with a change of expression—a dawning of apprehension +in her little, unexpressive eyes, which the doctor knew and +was always sorry to see. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing serious," he told her in a hurry. "Don't +jump so to conclusions, Joey. This is merely medical +orders. You must keep Ferris away when you are in +charge of Mrs. Gaunt, please." +</P> + +<P> +Joey stooped over the garden bed to pick up her hank of +bass and bundle of sticks. When she arose, her face was +even redder. "Well," she said, "it isn't easy to tell +Percy to keep out of his own car." +</P> + +<P> +The doctor looked at her with eyes of friendly pity and +sympathy. He had known her from childhood, and had +brought her three children into the world. He saw more +of the workings of the household at Perley Hatch than +anybody else in the neighbourhood. +</P> + +<P> +"I know it isn't," he answered, "but if it can't be done, +say so, and Mrs. Gaunt must give up her tours with you. +I may say that I suggested them at first not for her sake +only. I thought a friend of your own sex, within reach, +would be such a happy chance for you." +</P> + +<P> +Joey had turned and strolled at his side towards a +garden seat. They sat down, she with her habitual inelegance, +her legs wide apart, her thick garden boots firmly +planted on the gravel. +</P> + +<P> +"I like her," she burst out with energy. "I like her +to rights. She's got no nonsense about her; you should +have seen her with the kiddies yesterday! I should hate +to lose her! But what harm can poor old Percy do her? +Of course he's in love with her, but so he is with every +pretty woman he sees. And it is such a good thing"—she +broke off here, her thick mouth quivering. The doctor +in his compassion understood as well as if she had finished +the sentence. The thought in her mind was—"it is such +a good thing for him to be interested in a woman of our +own class, where no harm can come of it, rather than in the +daughter of the publican in Buxton, in whose bar he has +spent half the day for the past month." +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Gaunt is quite an invalid, Joey," Dymock told +her gently. "It disturbs her to be introduced to strangers. +Her own husband is behaving like a trump, and you must +see quite well that I'm not going to let your husband step +in and spoil things. She has got to be kept perfectly quiet, +and if you can do that you may be with her. If not—if +you can't guarantee to keep off Ferris—why the motor +drives must stop. Gaunt is getting a car for her, but there +will be some delay." +</P> + +<P> +Joey sat still, saying nothing, gazing straight before her +for a while, and Dymock waited with perfect patience. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought," she began slowly, "when Gaunt got +married, what a difference it might make to me supposing +she was somebody I could cotton to. If he was more +approachable, not such a disagreeable chap, Percy would +have somewhere to go—somebody to speak to about his +cave and his mining scheme. You know all Percy wants +is something to do, something to fill up his mind. Old +Percy's all right, isn't he, doctor? Only he gets bored. +He's awfully struck with Mrs. Gaunt; and, you see, like +everybody else, I have tried to grind my own axe instead +of thinking only about her." +</P> + +<P> +"Joey, you're a trump," replied the doctor heartily. +"I see your point of view, and there's nothing against it, +except that you must wait a few days—say a few weeks—before +starting in. You may tell Percy that he must +lie low or he will spoil his own chance with Gaunt. If +that gentleman heard that he had been trying to make the +running with madame, he would send the lead-mine to +blazes. Can you get that into Ferris's head?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she replied more hopefully, "I think I could. +He must hold off a bit for the present. I can say you said +so—shove it all on you, can't I, doctor?" +</P> + +<P> +"Most certainly. Doctor's orders. Ferris is, of +course, quite free to say that he can't spare his car for +Mrs. Gaunt. But if he lends it, he must for the present +stand out. I hope you can manage this, young woman, +because I think it much better for Mrs. Gaunt to have your +society than to go out quite alone. If you can arrange as +I tell you, I will do my little best to say a word to Gaunt +about the Branterdale mine. His support would be the +making of the scheme; for whatever his failings as a society +man, nobody is more universally trusted and respected +than he." +</P> + +<P> +"I know. I am pretty sure I can keep Percy off, +at least for a bit," Joey assured him. "As soon as she is +better, Mrs. Gaunt will like to have him about, he is such +a taking chap, isn't he?" +</P> + +<P> +"Handsome as paint," replied the doctor, smiling somewhat +awry under his moustache. He could not tell her +that the style which was fatal to the Buxton barmaid +inspired in Virginia only an impatient disgust. "By the +bye, I needn't give you the hint to tell Mrs. Gaunt nothing +of my visit? She must not know that I have said a word? +To put it shortly, you mustn't apologise; don't say a word +about Ferris, good or bad. Simply arrange that he doesn't +appear again." +</P> + +<P> +She promised. They strolled together to the gate, +where his horse waited, and parted with cordiality. Poor +old Joey! +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +In ten days, Virginia was allowed to put her feet to +the ground; and the following day, which was Sunday, she +elected to go to church. Dr. Dymock told her that it +would do her good, but that, if she went, she must put up +with her husband's company during service. It would be +humiliating him too deeply to ask him to allow her to +appear for the first time in public without him. Somewhat +eloquently, the doctor put before her the conduct of +Gaunt—his wonderful self-denial. She listened with +drooped lids, and said nothing. In her heart she wondered +what the speaker would say if she were to look up +and say straight out: "He does not love me; he hates me. +He is waiting for me to be well in order that he may persecute +me." +</P> + +<P> +No doubt he would call it hysterical raving. +</P> + +<P> +When he was gone, she fell to her usual occupation of +wondering what form Gaunt's cruelty was likely to take, +when she should be strong enough to submit to it. She +dared only look forward to the immediate future. If she +tried to go beyond, to face the prospect of a whole life-time +of captivity, under the gaolership of this extraordinary +man, she found her brain reeling. There was a +subject which preoccupied her mind at this time; otherwise +her speculations might have travelled farther. The +question of Pansy's cure was the one thing of which she +thought, night and day. The accounts which she regularly +received were cheerful, but not what she had hoped. +They were vague—disappointing. "The doctor thought, +with patience, they would see some real improvement." +Some improvement! When she hoped for a complete +cure. "There was distinctly less temperature during the +past twenty-four hours." But why was there temperature +at all? Was the new treatment setting up a temperature? +She knew enough of nursing and sickness to understand +that these reports were by no means wholly satisfactory. +</P> + +<P> +And now that Pansy was too ill to write herself, what a +blank there was! Mamma was so different! She could +not tell the things one wanted to know. Day by day, since +Gaunt gave her money, Virgie had sent parcels to the +nursing home, wherein her treasure was incarcerated. +Fruit, jelly, pictures, flowers, books—anything love could +suggest. Yet she hardly knew whether they were received, +or, if so, whether they gave pleasure. +</P> + +<P> +This dearth of what she called "real news" gave her a +good deal of anxiety, though Grover usually contrived to +reassure her, and to hold up a glorious picture of what the +dear little lady would say when she was allowed to write +herself! +</P> + +<P> +On Sunday morning Virginia was up and dressed by +church time; and walked downstairs, and along the hall, +into the waiting carriage and pair. Gaunt was nowhere +to be seen, and she drove to Manton, the village in whose +scattered parish Omberleigh stood, escorted only by +Grover. +</P> + +<P> +At the church door, her husband was awaiting her, having +apparently traversed the two miles on foot. He timed +his appearance to coincide with hers, so that it would look +as if they had arrived together. It was almost a fortnight +since she had set eyes upon him, and the sight of him +brought a rush of scarlet to her cheeks, and a trembling +to her limbs. He tried to look as if everything was normal, +as if he had driven over with her, after breakfasting +together as usual. He seemed paler than her memory of +him, but displayed no emotion of any kind. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia was looking unusually pretty. Grover, when +she had finally adjusted the picturesque hat, had remarked +that it was not often they had anything like <i>that</i> +to look at in Manton church of a Sunday morning. +</P> + +<P> +Certainly the lately married pair were the cynosure of +every eye as they took their places in the old oak seat appropriated +to Omberleigh. Gaunt had no time to feel self-conscious, +so anxious was he as to how his wife would stand +the ordeal of sitting beside him for so long. He tried, +however, not to increase her nervousness by seeming aware +of it. He appeared immersed in his prayer-book and +hymnal, singing the tenor part in the hymns very correctly. +</P> + +<P> +The service was extremely simple, and not lengthy. +Virginia got through it quite well, feeling, after the first +ten minutes, a sense of relief and peace for which she +could not account. She told herself that it was the grace +of God, and that, if she could sit so calmly at her captor's +side, without a tremor, it showed that strength would be +given her to endure his uttermost unkindness patiently. +</P> + +<P> +He stepped out of the seat, at the end of service, and +waited for her to follow, quite quietly and not officiously. +His manner was, indeed, so natural that only a keen +observer would have suspected that naturalness to be +assumed. At her side he walked down the broad central +passage, and out at the south porch. +</P> + +<P> +He had held all his neighbours so rigorously at bay for +years past that very few had ventured to await the appearance +of the bridal couple. But one elderly lady, of shapeless +bulk, with her bonnet askew, waiting beside a big +motor, escorted by a large and fine old gentleman, stepped +forward. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Osbert Gaunt, you must allow me to shake hands, +and to ask you to make me known to your lovely young +wife," said she kindly. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt did not look pleased, but he made the necessary +introduction. The old pair were Lord and Lady St. +Aukmund. "I hope you will come and see my wife before +long, when we are a bit more settled down!" he volunteered. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear boy, I should think this is the best day's +work you ever did in all your life!" cried the old countess, +holding Virgie's hand most cordially. "And she is Bernard +Mynors's daughter! Oh, yes, my dear, all the county +knows who you were! All the county is talking about +you! But nobody will be surprised at the miracle when +they see you! As to him, he is the most savage, the most +<i>farouche</i> creature that ever was made—or was until he +saw you—for you have altered him already, my dear! I +knew him when he was a little mite in velvet suits, and I +never thought he would turn out as he did! But you have +come to the rescue just in time. Put ceremony on one +side, and bring him to dine with us at the Chase just <i>en +famille</i> one day this week, won't you?" +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt was obliged to explain that his wife was a convalescent, +and that any evening engagement was at present +out of the question for her. He hoped that it would soon +be different. Lady St. Aukmund showed herself pertinacious, +and asked more questions than he liked, but he +managed to parry them all, and she got into her motor at +last, all compliments and desires for showing hospitality. +He waited until the great folks were off, and then put +Virgie into the carriage at once. +</P> + +<P> +As he arranged the dust rug carefully about her feet, +Virginia was struck for the first time with a sort of compunction. +Her husband, for whatever motive, was certainly +carrying out the doctor's orders loyally. She was +touched with shame that he must walk home, because she +was occupying his carriage. Leaning forward impetuously, +she said: "I hope you will drive home? I hope +you will not walk because of—me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks, I prefer it." +</P> + +<P> +He stepped back, gave the order, and she was driven +away. He stood there in the road, his brows knit, his +heart in tumult. What an ass he had been to decline that +offer! He might have been seated by her now, conscious +of her in every fibre, seeing her, even though not daring to +look at her, breathing her, as it were, into his being. It +could have done her no harm. He might have found time +for some word, some faltering sentence that should have +prepared her for his change of mind, for his entire defeat +and penitence. +</P> + +<P> +He started to walk home, in the dust of her chariot +wheels. He would set eyes upon her no more that day, +unless he stood, as he often did, at the window of his study, +whence he could see the canopy of her chair as she lay +out upon the terrace. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +He saw her no more, except from a distance, for another +week. Then the doctor gave him cheering news. She +was doing splendidly. He thought she might lead a normal +life in a few days more, if she were carefully guarded, +and not allowed to overdo herself. +</P> + +<P> +"You might take her to the coast?—Devon or Cornwall, +perhaps?" he suggested. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt said he would consider it. It was a difficult time +for him to leave home, just as harvest was beginning. A +month later perhaps. +</P> + +<P> +As he limped back, up the avenue, when Dymock had +ridden away, he thought that perhaps it might make the +rupture easier, if it took place elsewhere, and not at Omberleigh, +where apparently the world and his wife—specially +his wife—was busy with his affairs. The world +and his wife had been so shut out from his own purview +hitherto that he was wholly unprepared for the shock of +surprise, amusement, interest, which his sudden marriage +excited. In such a sparsely populated neighbourhood he +had believed that he might do what he pleased without +exciting comment. He saw now, with sudden clarity, how +impossible such an existence as he had planned for his +unlucky wife would have been in reality. +</P> + +<P> +A woman so used—any woman in the world except +Virginia—would have cried her wrongs from the house-tops. +His persecution of her could not have been hid for +long. He felt that he was looking out upon a new world, +of whose existence he had been as unaware as the proverbial +ostrich. His vindictive malice even had its ridiculous side. +He had made an egregious fool of himself. +</P> + +<P> +Heavy as lead was his heart as he entered the house. +</P> + +<P> +Cosmo and Damian, with their coloured ribbons about +their fluffy necks, were at play in the hall, dancing about +at hide and seek behind the big chairs, while Grim, his +own golden collie, sat upon a settle, her feet tucked up like +a fashionable lady afraid of a mouse, uttering panting, +whining protests against the reckless interlopers. Gaunt +called her, and she came down slowly and with quite evident +nervousness from her elevation. Cosmo hunched his +lovely grey fluffy back into an arch, and spat. His tail +became a bottle brush. Grim slunk apologetically by, her +tail between her legs. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor old girl," said Gaunt, as he went into the dining-room +to lunch. "You and I are a bit superfluous in this +house now, it seems." +</P> + +<P> +He went out that afternoon with the object of meeting +Caunter some distance away at a house whose tenant had +asked for a new thatch. For the first time in his life he +forgot what he had come out for, and wandered by himself +until past six o'clock, his whole mind focused upon his +domestic affairs, wondering whether any readjustment +were possible, and if so, how he should set about it. +</P> + +<P> +Entering the house once more, he suddenly remembered +his neglected appointment, and told himself that he would +go round to Caunter's house after dinner and apologise. +Slowly and heavily he went upstairs, and into his room to +change. In the midst of his toilet sounds came to him, +low and muffled, from the next room. At first he hardly +noticed; then he crept close to the door, and listened. +What he heard gave him a curious sensation of heat, of +hurry, of desperate sympathy, and extraordinary vexation. +</P> + +<P> +His wife was in trouble. He could hear her. The +sound of sobbing, the pitiful broken gasps of quite uncontrollable +weeping came to him, mingled with the tones, +coaxing and low, with which Grover was apparently attempting +consolation. What had happened? Had she +hurt herself? Had they allowed her to run into any +danger? But no! He was at once aware, though how +he knew it he could hardly say, that no pain of her own +would draw those wild tears, that unrestrained grief from +Virginia. +</P> + +<P> +Whatever it was, it must be stopped, or he should go +mad. He felt as if his head were on fire—as if he must +go out and kill somebody—why was it allowed, that she +should be made unhappy? Then he thought of himself—of +his own diabolical cruelty! Could she be lamenting +because she was slowly but inexorably growing better, +because she was to be taken from the doctor's kind hands and +surrendered once more to her husband's harsh ones? +</P> + +<P> +The sweat stood upon the forehead of Gaunt of +Omberleigh. It seemed to him that never—even in his +hot youth—even in the first days of his jilting—had he +suffered such torment as this. He rushed from his room +into the passage, and called aloud to Grover: +</P> + +<P> +"Come here—come out—I want to speak to you!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE FINAL TEST +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + —"<i>I slew<BR> + Myself in that instant! a ruffian lies<BR> + Somewhere. Your slave, see, born in his place.</i>"<BR> + —<SPAN CLASS="scap">Browning</SPAN>.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In the closed room within there was a pause. The +sound of weeping died away, as though the master's voice +had forced even anguish into the silence of terror. Grover +answered him at length in sudden haste, as though anything +would be better than to risk his anger. There followed +a muttering and murmuring, as though the maid +were imploring her mistress to command herself. Gaunt +shook with rage and helplessness. +</P> + +<P> +Thereafter the door was softly opened, elaborately +closed, and Grover, her own eyes suspiciously red, emerged +and stood before him. For one moment he hoped he might +have been mistaken. "Was it you making that noise?" +he asked thickly; and as she hesitated, he added in haste: +</P> + +<P> +"Give me the truth, please, Grover." +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps something in his voice excited the woman's +pity. At any rate, she rejected the way out which his +random words had suggested. It had been on her tongue +to say yes, it was she—she had conjured up toothache, a +fall downstairs, a family bereavement, wondering which +would sound the most convincing, and was forced to reject +all. +</P> + +<P> +"It was Mrs. Gaunt," she faltered baldly. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what's the matter? Out with it. What makes +her cry like that—eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"She's had bad noos, sir. Noos of her little sister. +She's fair broken-hearted—it's awful to see her——" +The kind soul's voice failed, and she applied her handkerchief +to her quivering mouth. +</P> + +<P> +"Good heavens! The child's not dead, is she?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir; but she's in agony, and calling for her sister. +They seem to think she can't live, sir—the treatment has +made her worse——" +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Gaunt's not strong enough to go to London," he +broke in, for the first miserable instant conscious only that +he could not part with her. +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir. She said you'd say so—that's what she's +crying about," replied Grover, fairly breaking down, and +turning away. +</P> + +<P> +The man's face was white. "Stay where you are—wait—I +am going in to see her," he muttered. Grover +made a movement, but shrank back again. It was not for +her to interfere with what her master chose to do. +</P> + +<P> +The opening door brought Virginia to attention. She +had been lying face downward upon the sofa, which stood +near the fire they always lit in the evening. With a bound +she was on her feet, and when she saw him she gave a gasp +of terrified surprise; then, with extraordinary swiftness, +her mood changed. +</P> + +<P> +"It is you, is it?" she said in a voice that was hardly +audible, so husky was it with violent weeping. "Come +and look! Come and see what you have done. Oh, indeed +you have got your wish! You have made me suffer. +Never in all your life can you have had to endure anything +like the torment—I say the torment—that I am +undergoing now!" She stood before him, defiant, tense +with the force of the feeling in her, wringing her little +weak hands, clenching them over her labouring breast. +"Oh, why didn't I go on, why didn't I stay there at my +post—working, starving, loving them, till I dropped? If +she had to die, she could at least have had me with her. +I could have been sure that all was done that could be done. +She wouldn't have had to die crying for a sister that never +came. Oh!" she burst out with a final effort of uncontrollable +emotion, all the more distressing because it could +but just be heard, "why was I ever born to know such +agony as this? I thought God would let me bear it all—not +her—not that little thing! Oh, Pansy, Pansy, +<i>Pansy</i>!" +</P> + +<P> +She dropped again upon her sofa—her face hidden in +the cushions, trying to stifle the tearing sobs. Her husband +made a gesture of despair. He came near. He +would have knelt beside her, but he dared not. He was +so overwhelmed with what he was feeling, and the impossibility +of expressing any of it, that for a moment he was +choked and could not speak. When he did, the curb he +was using made his voice sullen and without expression. +</P> + +<P> +"Virginia, I am sorry. Let me help you. Please +show me your letter, or tell me what is in it." +</P> + +<P> +Something unwonted—something she did not expect—must +have spoken in his repressed voice. She sat up, +wiping away the blinding tears, and tried to speak to him, +but failed for weeping. At last, feeling that her voice +could not be controlled, she drew out a letter from the +front of her frock and held it to him. +</P> + +<P> +He took it, warm from its late contact with her; and the +thought made him for a moment dizzy, so that words and +lines swam before his eyes. He read it through. +</P> + +<P> +There was silence. When he had got to the end, he +raised his heavy lids and looked at her. Her face was now +set, almost fierce. The dove-like sweetness of her changeful +eyes was gone. They showed like a stormy sea. +</P> + +<P> +"You want to go?" he almost whispered. +</P> + +<P> +She laughed bitterly. That she, Virginia the martyr, +could laugh like that! He reeled mentally with this fresh +surprise of womanhood. +</P> + +<P> +"<i>Want to go?</i> I <i>am</i> going," she said deliberately, her +huskiness giving almost the effect of hissing. "I have +borne enough. Now I don't care what happens. I am +going to Pansy. If you try to prevent me, I will scream +and rouse the house. I will call upon your butler to protect +me; I will say you are mad, as I believe you are! +But somehow I will go to her. Then, afterwards, when I +come back, you may do as you like. You may cut me to +pieces with a knife, and I won't complain! But now I +am rebel! Now you can't keep me! I am not afraid of +you any more!" +</P> + +<P> +There were a thousand things to say, each more hopeless, +each more futile than the other. He could not say them. +In profound humiliation he took what she gave him, he +accepted it all. A long moment ticked past after her passionate +challenge. Then he spoke humbly. +</P> + +<P> +"Virginia—would it console you to go—to-night?" +</P> + +<P> +She staggered on her feet as if his words overthrew her; +then again she laughed in derision. "To-night? Ah, +but, of course, you are mocking!" +</P> + +<P> +"As God hears me, I am not. There is an express +which stops at Derby at nine o'clock. You have an hour +in which to pack and eat some dinner. Grover must go +with you—you will want her when you get to London. I +will call her now." He spoke with his watch in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +Virgie caught her breath. She looked at him uncertainly.... +</P> + +<P> +Once, as a small child, during a visit to London, her +father had taken her with him upon a visit to the Law +Courts. They had been in court when sentence was passed +upon a prisoner. She had completely forgotten the crime +and what its punishment was to be; but as she looked at +her husband, she recalled the expression of the prisoner in +the dock, whose doom had just been pronounced. +</P> + +<P> +"For the first time—I thank you," she muttered +chokingly. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt went to the door. With his hand upon the +handle, he turned back. "Promise me that you will now +control yourself," he said frigidly. "No more wild weeping. +You have cried yourself hoarse." +</P> + +<P> +"I promise," she said in answer, her eyes upon him, her +thoughts already far away in the nursing home with Pansy. +</P> + +<P> +He went out, and she heard him speaking to Grover in +the passage. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +An hour later, having forced herself to eat something, +and having accomplished her packing, she came down into +the hall, equipped for her journey. +</P> + +<P> +The new motor, which had arrived only two days before, +stood at the door in charge of a chauffeur, who was to stay +a month and train Ransom, the coachman, to drive. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt awaited her in the hall, his hat in his hand. Her +face changed. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be alarmed," he told her, coming near and speaking +so low that only she could hear. "I am coming to +Derby only. There are things I must tell you, and there +was no time before starting. We shall only just do it. +Jump in." +</P> + +<P> +She obeyed. He briefly directed Grover to sit by the +chauffeur, and they were off. +</P> + +<P> +For a few minutes they sat in silence. The car slipped +down the avenue, the lamplight dancing upon the pine-trunks, +and came out into the open road, where it crossed +the moor, and the day had not wholly faded from the sky. +Then Gaunt spoke. +</P> + +<P> +"Does your travelling-bag lock? Have you a key?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Then take these notes." He told her what sum he +had given her, opened the packet and made her verify it. +She obeyed almost mechanically. +</P> + +<P> +"Now," he went on, "when you get to London, drive +straight to the Langham Hotel. I have written it down +for you on this paper. Give my name, and they will see +that you have a comfortable room, with one for Grover +close by. In the morning, as soon as you are rested, telephone +to Dr. Danby at this address in Cavendish Square. +Let me make a confession, Virginia. He is the man I +ought to have called in at first. When I knew him he was +a young chap just through his hospital training, who came +down here one summer as <i>locum tenens</i>. It was the year +of my own accident. I owe it to that man that I did not +lose my leg. Now he is a great specialist, at the top of his +profession. When we were arranging about your little +sister, I would have mentioned him to you; but I found +you full of the idea of this new treatment, and I own that +I cared so little for the child, or what became of her, that +I thought it best you should have your own way. But if +there is any hope for her, Danby is your man. If you +believe this, do as I say. Override etiquette; take him +straight to see Pansy. If there should be any difficulty, +refer every one to me; but Danby can advise you how best +to proceed; you are safe with him. You will probably +have to move the patient, if she is strong enough to stand +it. Danby's nursing homes are to be trusted. Take her +where he tells you. I think you have your cheque-book, +have you not? You can write a cheque for any fees that +are necessary. I will pay in money to the bank to meet +your demand. Then you can stay at your hotel, and be +with your little sister as much as is practicable. Are you +taking in what I say?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I am. I—I—don't know what to answer. +Thank you. You are being—so—unlike yourself. I +feel bewildered. I am sorry I was so rude to you just +now, upstairs, and said such things——" +</P> + +<P> +The meek, hoarse voice was so pitiful that he felt tears +start to his eyes. "That's all right," he muttered hurriedly. +"One thing you have to promise me. You will +take care of your own health. Remember, you owe it to +me to." He broke off. What did she owe to him but +misery? However, she accepted the situation with a simplicity +which was to him frankly awful. +</P> + +<P> +"I know. I will try to do what I think you would +wish. I realise that I have caused trouble and—and expense, +already. It is generous of you to let me go like +this. Please tell me, how long may I stay?" +</P> + +<P> +"Virginia!" he said, and dropped his forehead on his +hands. She looked at him in dim surprise, but with a +mind too full of her own trouble to conceive of his. +</P> + +<P> +"How long?" she persisted gently. "A week?" +</P> + +<P> +"How can I decide how long?" he asked, lifting his +haggard face again. "It depends upon the child. I +must leave it to you. Stay as long as she needs you. I +can say no more than that." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" she murmured, "you are so good!" +</P> + +<P> +He made no sound, but his lips set themselves in a line +of pain. Ah, if only his brutality, his savage treatment +of her did not lie between them! If it had been simply +that she had come to him without love, yet longing for tenderness +and protection! This would have been the moment +to take her in his arms, to enfold her with sympathy +and devotion that asked as yet no recompense. +</P> + +<P> +She leaned back in her corner, while the car rushed +easily through the country, and the yellow harvest moon +came up to show him more clearly the glimmering pearly +oval that was her face. She was pondering over his directions, +and every now and then put some little question +which showed how practical was her mind, how bent upon +the enterprise which lay before her. At last, after a prolonged +silence, she spoke unexpected words. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe that being so miserable makes me understand +a little bit better; understand you, I mean. When I think +of my Pansy, I could find it in my heart to kill that wicked +woman, her nurse, who let her be hurt when she was a little +helpless child. I could almost torture this doctor, who has +made her worse when he claimed to make her better; and +I seem to see how it has happened—how being miserable +for so many years has made you want to hurt somebody.... +But the dreadful thought is, that it would do no good—no +good at all! If I could kill the wicked nurse and +the unskilful doctor it would not make my darling one bit +better! And to make me unhappy won't help you, either, +even though you think it will! I can't give you back the +unhappy years, the lost years! It is all no good—no +good!" +</P> + +<P> +"Virginia—don't!" So much was forced out of him +in his pain. He could have told her that in one respect +she was wrong—that it <i>was</i> in her power to restore to him +the years that the locust had eaten—that he was at her +feet, conquered, submissive. +</P> + +<P> +But he saw how small a fragment of her mind was really +occupied with him. She was eagerly looking forward—searching +the horizon for the first glimpse of the chimneys +of Derby. +</P> + +<P> +He mattered very little to her now. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +They reached the station with six minutes in hand. +Gaunt had sent a man down to Monton to telegraph for a +sleeping-carriage, and they found all awaiting them. +</P> + +<P> +Grover and she were duly installed in their luxurious +quarters, the guard had been liberally feed to look after +them. Gaunt repeated some of his directions, and ascertained +that both she and Grover thoroughly understood +them. He took the maid aside for a moment, into the corridor +of the train, while he expressed to her, in a few terse, +pointed words, how unremitting must be her care, how +keen her attention. Grover's response was reassuring, if +embarrassing. +</P> + +<P> +"There, sir, I love her almost as well as you do yourself," +she had said. The words stuck for long days afterwards +in the man's head. Until he heard it put thus +bluntly, he had hardly known that the keen emotion which +he experienced could be called by so divine a name as love. +</P> + +<P> +It had, then, befallen him to love a second time, with a +force which made his first love seem crude and weak—mere +counterfeit. +</P> + +<P> +His impressions of the few final seconds were blurred. +The guard went along the train, closing doors. Gaunt +was shut out, upon the platform. Anxious to show her +gratitude, Virgie stood by the open window of her compartment, +looking at him, trying to fix her mind upon him, +but with a fancy filled with far other visions. The image +of her little sister's face, the sound of her cries, was in her +heart. She was picturing her own appeal to this new doctor, +this deliverer who had been brought to her by no other +hands than those of her husband. She looked down upon +his hand, clenched upon the sill of the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Put up the window when the train starts," he was +saying. "I am defying the doctor in letting you go like +this, upon my own responsibility. You must justify me +by taking all the care of yourself that is possible. Remember, +you have Grover to wait upon you, and you are to +order anything and everything you want. There is no +necessity for you to do anything but just sit with the child +when she is well enough to wish it." +</P> + +<P> +Her face lit up gloriously. She smiled softly, pityingly, +at the man who could imagine a moment in which +Pansy would not wish to have Virgie with her. +</P> + +<P> +A whistle sounded. He started and winced. Then, +gripping the door a moment, he leaned forward, his eyes +burning in his head. "Remember," he blurted out, "you +are on your honour—on your honour to come back to me. +You have undertaken to return." +</P> + +<P> +She stared at him in surprise as she stood a little back +from the window. The train began to move. "Of course +I am coming back," she said in astonishment. "You +know I shall." For a moment she just smiled, but in bitterness. +"I am released on parole," she said; "I quite +understand." +</P> + +<P> +For a few moments after the smoothly running express +had slithered out of the station, off upon her way south, +Virginia was held by the memory of the look upon Gaunt's +face as she passed from his sight. It was puzzling. He +behaved almost as if he meant to be kind; which was incredible. +His face seemed to her to be altering, or to have +altered, since she first saw it. +</P> + +<P> +Anyhow, he had let her go. Her mad outburst had +borne fruit—her revolt had been entirely successful. +She was off, without him, going to London, going to Pansy. +Her return to bondage lay in the future, dim and misty, +not worth troubling about as yet. There were other far +weightier matters to occupy her. Before they had traversed +ten miles she had forgotten Gaunt, almost as though +he did not exist. +</P> + +<P> +He, poor wretch, having made his sacrifice, stood a moment +with arms tightly folded, wishing he had not been so +altruistic. His eyes followed the train till it disappeared, +then he turned, and went haltingly out of the station, back +to the empty motor. He muttered something to himself +as he opened the door. "We shall see." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you speak, sir?" said the chauffeur. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no! I didn't say anything. Home, of course." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +The Silent Knight sped on, and was engulfed in the +darkness, now completely fallen. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt of Omberleigh sat down in the place which his +wife had lately occupied. His body was there in the +motor; his heart, his mind, all that was in him, was following +her upon her journey. He leaned forward, gazing +upon nothing, while in his fancy he recalled the whole of +the late scene between them. Could he have done anything +more? Could he have let her see?... But no. +To do that—to utter any plea—would have deprived +him of a wonderful opportunity. It was now in his +power to prove her to the uttermost. +</P> + +<P> +He had let her go. She had plenty of money, and still +more credit. She was going to her own people, to her +selfish, worldly mother, to her little sister's love and devotion. +It was not to be supposed that, once back in their +midst, she could refrain from telling her family some part +at least of what she had been made to suffer. Doubtless +it would all be poured out. Every kind of influence +would then be brought to bear upon her in order to shake +her allegiance. It would be pointed out to her that he was +probably mad, a person whose morbid tendencies must not +be encouraged. She would be told that it was her duty +not to return to him. A hundred arguments were ready +to hand. +</P> + +<P> +As he faced the situation, he suddenly felt that it was +too hard a test which he had set her. Brave she was; +single-minded he had found her; honest she seemed, but if, +in face of argument, in face of influence, in face of love, +in spite of fear, in spite of dreadful apprehension of punishment, +she returned to what she still believed to be a +state of slavery and subjection, of captivity and surveillance, +then, indeed, she was a paragon, a pearl of such +price as he was not worthy to possess. +</P> + +<P> +It was too much to hope for! She was gone, and she +would never return. The scandal and the tragedy of his +marriage would be in every one's mouth in a very few +weeks' time. +</P> + +<P> +He had let her go. +</P> + +<P> +Why? +</P> + +<P> +Because it was not in his power to hold her. Even if +he had followed a certain wild, hateful impulse which +bade him keep her, even by means of locked doors and +imprisonment, he would have held but the husk of her. +The lonely spirit which animated her, which was the thing +he loved, and met for the first time, would not have been +there in her prison, but away with the child she loved. +His success would have been sheer failure. +</P> + +<P> +Whereas now, deep in his heart, not to be completely +annihilated, lurked the faint hope that his present failure +might possibly, by some scarcely conceivable good fortune, +turn into success. +</P> + +<P> +The miles flew past unnoticed, while he sat rapt +within himself. As the car came to a standstill before the +dark porch of Omberleigh, he was reflecting upon the +strangeness of the fact that he had once thought Virginia's +resemblance to her mother so striking. +</P> + +<P> +Already she had almost ceased to remind him of his former +bitterness. A wholly new image of her had grown +up in his heart. Before it for the last weeks he had been +burning incense. He had placed it in a sacred niche upon +a pedestal. +</P> + +<P> +To-night he had taken it out. He wanted to hold it in +his arms, to make it his. +</P> + +<P> +What if it failed to pass the almost superhuman test +which he had devised for it? +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +ABSENCE +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>My whole life is so strange: as strange<BR> + It is, my husband, whom I have not wronged,<BR> + Should hate and harm me.</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">The Ring and the Book</SPAN>.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +As once before, when the doctor visited her, Joey Ferris +was busy in the garden, cutting off dead blooms. Her +little boys busily waited on her, each with his small barrow, +in which they collected the faded flowers which she +tossed upon the path, and ran off with them down the long +walks to the rubbish heap, puffing and blowing to announce +the fact of their being goods trains or expresses, or light +engines, as the fancy took them. +</P> + +<P> +It was nearly lunch time, and Ferris was going to +bring home a man who had showed signs of interest in the +lead-mine scheme. As the stable clock chimed a quarter +to one, the mistress of Perley Hatch straightened her back, +took off her gardening gloves, rubbed her nose reflectively, +and wondered whether she "ought to change." +</P> + +<P> +As the doubt crossed her mind, she looked up to see some +one approaching across the grass, and with a vast surprise +recognised Gaunt of Omberleigh. +</P> + +<P> +"Why," cried she very heartily, advancing to meet him +with hand outstretched, "I <i>am</i> glad to see you! Didn't +think you knew your way to this house! What's the news +this morning? Better, I hope?" +</P> + +<P> +"It seems to be astonishingly good. The change of +treatment and my wife's presence, taken together, have +worked a miracle. The child, who was dangerously ill, is +making marked progress every day." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, well, that is some consolation for you, isn't it?" +said Joey, her eyes full of sympathy, and her voice almost +tender. "I think you are just the most unselfish man +I have ever heard of—letting Virgie go off like that!" +</P> + +<P> +"Please, Mrs. Ferris——" +</P> + +<P> +"It's no use please-Mrs.-Ferrising me! Some men in +your place would have said things! First she herself falls +ill, and then, just as your love and care has brought her +round, off she goes and leaves you on the All-alone Stone! +Percy has been on the point of riding over to try and persuade +you to come to us for a bit of dinner, but he has +been so taken up over his mine." +</P> + +<P> +"You are more than kind, Mrs. Ferris. I fear I've +been a most unneighbourly neighbour for many years. +Now I am going to turn over a new leaf. As a preliminary, +will you give me some lunch to-day? I want to +talk to Ferris about his mine. Dr. Dymock was telling +me something of it." +</P> + +<P> +Joey was overjoyed. "Need you ask?" she joyfully +inquired. "Come to the house and wash your hands, +while I tell Daniel to take your horse round. I conclude +you rode over?" She fixed her guest with her shrewd, +twinkling glance, and thought that he had done something +to himself, she hardly knew what. Was it that he wore a +new, very well-cut riding suit, with tan gaiters, and that +his hair was trimmed more sprucely than usual? Or was +he really younger, when you saw him close, than he appeared +from a distance? Certainly he had altered in some +subtle fashion, and for the better. He did not look well, +though. There were black marks under his eyes, as if he +had not slept. +</P> + +<P> +Tom and Bill came rushing up at the moment, charging +with their barrows. They were wholly untroubled with +shyness, and loudly announced that Tom was a Midland +express from Glasgow, and Bill a pilot engine. Gaunt +stopped and gravely shook hands with each, holding the +plump, earthy moist little fingers curiously in his brown, +muscular grip. Then he picked up Bill by his waist, and +seated him upon his shoulder. "Now you're in the look-out—the +signal-box," said he. "Is the line clear?" +</P> + +<P> +This was enchanting. Bill shouted to Tom to go and +be the excursion and seized Gaunt's hand, drawing back +his arm to represent a lever. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm off'ring the 4.10 to Manton box!" he cried. +</P> + +<P> +"Fancy your playing with them," said Joey, deeply +gratified. "That's what Virgie did. Bill, you remember +the pretty lady who came to tea and told you about little +Runt? This is her husband, that she belongs to." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, are you?" cried the excursion train, turning right +round upon the permanent way in horrifying fashion. +"Tell us about little Runt again—do!" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know that story, Bill. I'll have to get the +pretty lady to tell it to me, then perhaps I can pass it on." +</P> + +<P> +"Where is she?" cried Tom. "Have you got her +here?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, Tom. She has gone to be with her own little +sister, who is ill. I dare say she tells her stories, to pass +the time while she has to be in bed, flat on her back." +</P> + +<P> +"Flat on her back? Beastly!" said Tom. +</P> + +<P> +"Why's that for?" asked his brother. +</P> + +<P> +"Because her back was hurt when she was quite a baby. +She was thrown out of a motor-car, and has always been +ill." +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better not let our baby go in the car, mummy," +cried the little brother promptly; and Gaunt felt a movement +of affection for the child whose feeling spoke so +readily. +</P> + +<P> +They moved across the grass towards the house, and +suddenly Joey gave a pleased exclamation. "Here comes +Percy!" said she brightly. +</P> + +<P> +Ferris was advancing, accompanied by a young man +who, though he wore a country suit, had the air of London +about his hat and his boots. He was a distinguished-looking, +tall fellow, and Gaunt, as he set Bill upon his +feet upon the grass, knew that he had seen him before. +As the stranger drew near their eyes met, and the same +look of half-recognition appeared in both faces. +</P> + +<P> +Ferris's cordial welcome to Gaunt was somewhat flamboyant. +He wrung his hand a little too often and too +vehemently. Then he introduced his friend, Mr. Rosenberg. +That cleared up the mystery, as far as Gaunt was +concerned. Instantly he saw the gallery flooded with +summer sunshine, the glimmering floors, the mellow canvases, +the figure of the beautiful girl, bending over the +inscription at the foot of the marble cupid. +</P> + +<P> +To Gerald Rosenberg memory had come without difficulty. +The occasion when he first set eyes on Gaunt was +a critical moment in his life—how critical he hardly +knew at the time. The same picture was stamped upon +his own brain: the picture of Virginia beginning to descend +the staircase, and of his own turning of the head +with a consciousness of being watched—of meeting face +to face a pair of eyes, ironic, intent, challenging. +</P> + +<P> +"This is our neighbour, Gaunt of Omberleigh," Ferris +was jovially proclaiming. "Luckiest man in the county; +just married the most lovely girl I ever saw in my life." +</P> + +<P> +<i>Gaunt!</i> That was the name of Virginia's husband! +She had said that her future home would be Derbyshire! +Was this—this man—her husband? He grew quite +pale. +</P> + +<P> +"Was it you," he stammered, "<i>you</i> who married Miss +Mynors?" +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt assented. The eyes of the two men once more +met. "I saw you," slowly said Rosenberg, "at Hertford +House, when I went there to meet my sister and her +friend. You were in the Gallery." +</P> + +<P> +"I was; and I saw Miss Mynors." +</P> + +<P> +Gerald felt the blood rush to his head. "For the first +time?" +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt again assented mutely. He was filled with exultation. +Unhappy and uncertain as he was, insecure as +he knew his tenure of his prize, at least she was his at +present, at least he might claim this one triumph. +</P> + +<P> +"Fell in love at first sight, and no wonder!" cried +Ferris, with enthusiasm. "Isn't he the luckiest chap on +earth? I really don't think I have ever seen anybody +quite as lovely as Mrs. Gaunt." +</P> + +<P> +"You are right—that is the almost universal opinion. +I congratulate Mr. Gaunt," said Gerald, rallying his composure. +</P> + +<P> +How all the crises of our lives come upon us unaware! +How little had he guessed, that day in the Gallery, that, +although he had a good chance then, it was his last! His +father, in persuading him to flee temptation, had urged +the probability of a future recurrence of opportunity. +"She won't run away," he had said. And behold! even +as he spoke, the chain of gold was being forged to bind +captive the innocent girl. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt was speaking to Joey. "Great as is Virginia's +beauty," Gerald heard him say, "it is the least part of +her charm. It is her character which is so fine, so exceptional. +She is pure gold throughout." +</P> + +<P> +Young Rosenberg looked at him with a lingering gaze +of hatred. Had he known in what a crucible the gold of +Virginia's nature had been and was still being proved, the +hate would have intensified perhaps to the point of sending +his fingers to the husband's throat. This man had +apparently been certain, where he was doubtful. <i>Was</i> +Virginia as fair within as without? Could she have +wholly escaped the taint of her mother's ignoble nature? +His father had thought not. In his indecision he had let +slip the treasure which another man had promptly gathered. +As they walked slowly towards the house, his mind +was filled with the two ideas—first, that all was over, +so far as he was concerned, and, also, that in the course of +the next few hours he might possibly see her whose dove's +eyes had haunted him ever since that fatal day in the +valley of decision—the day when he had decided upon +retreat. +</P> + +<P> +Then he began by degrees to grasp what the others were +speaking of. He learned that the sudden and dangerous +illness of Pansy had called Virginia to London, and that +Gaunt had allowed her to go without him. Also he +learned that she had suffered with a bad knee, and that +her husband was anxious lest she should now be doing too +much. He listened as in a dream, his mind slowly assimilating +all these rapid happenings; and by degrees he +realised that, if she were in London without Gaunt, he +could easily see her, if he could ascertain her address. +</P> + +<P> +The conversation soon turned to the projected lead-mine, +in which Mr. Rosenberg senior had been asked by +a friend in the financial world to take a director's place. +The party were to meet Mr. Rosenberg's own expert, and +Ferris's, at Branterdale cavern that afternoon. Joey was +coming too. +</P> + +<P> +She drove their guest over in the car, Percy electing to +ride with Gaunt, whom he was most anxious to propitiate. +On the way, it was quite easy for Gerald to ask Joey where +in London Mrs. Gaunt was staying. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I don't exactly know," said Joey. "She went +up to the Langham, but directly her mother found that +out, she determined that she would go there, too. I fancy +the mother's a bit of a sponge, isn't she? Anyway, Virgie +thought her husband wouldn't see keeping the two of them +there, so she has gone into rooms with her mother, as being +less expensive, and she always writes to me from the +Nursing Home in Queen Anne Street." +</P> + +<P> +"So she writes to you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. When they first married, Mr. Gaunt hadn't +got a motor, so ours came in handy. I took her about a +bit. She's a perfect angel. Hard on him, poor chap! +having to let her go like this, isn't it? You can see how +he is fretting!" +</P> + +<P> +"Is he? He looks to me an ill-conditioned brute," said +Gerald shortly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, he's quite a good sort when you know him," replied +Joey kindly. +</P> + +<P> +"But as a husband for her——" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, why didn't you chip in?" +</P> + +<P> +"One can't always follow the dictates of the heart, Mrs. +Ferris. I couldn't afford to marry for love." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, of course, Gaunt is much too old for her, as +far as years go; but," observed Joey, with one of her +flashes of intuition, "he is absurdly young in the sense of +not having used up his emotions. He was jilted in his +youth, so they say, and ever since has imagined that he +hated women—thought himself heart-broken, and shut +himself up alone until one fine day he saw her. He has +all the heaped-up love of a lifetime to pour out at her +feet." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't doubt his sentiments. The question is, will +she have any use for them?" retorted Gerald, with bitterness. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +It was late when Gaunt reached Omberleigh that evening. +It seemed to him as though he had been away a +week, for the reason that this was the day when he usually +heard from Virgie, and if she wrote in her usual punctual +way, there would be a letter lying in the bag upon the hall +table when he came in. +</P> + +<P> +There was. He opened the bag with hands that shook +so that he was afraid Hemming might notice; and when +he drew out the letter, "he pounced on it, like a dog on +a bone," as the servant afterwards related, "and was off +with it into his study before you could count two." +</P> + +<P> +The scrupulously business-like letters were little enough +upon which to feed the fire of a consuming passion. The +point was that in every letter she recognised, by implication, +his hold over her. Before taking any step she consulted him, +she awaited his permission. In a way it was +torture; she never let him forget that he had bought and +paid for her. On the other hand, since she maintained +this attitude, surely she would come back to him! +</P> + +<P> +She never used any form of address at the beginning of +her letters. "Osbert Gaunt, Esq.," was written above, +and then followed the body of the communication. She +signed herself merely "Virginia," as though the second +name were too horrible, or too distasteful to write. He +had never seen her full signature since she became his +wife. He hungered to see her written acknowledgment +of her wifehood, and with this object he had set a trap for +her. He wrote a cheque which would need her endorsement, +and sent it to her. This expedient failed, for she +returned the cheque, saying she was in no need of more +money; she had enough, and more than enough. +</P> + +<P> +Each of her letters contained a small statement of account, +carefully balanced. The first he had received was +the one that pleased him best. There was very much to +tell. She had to relate her experiences—how she went +first to see Pansy, and was horrified at the change in her; +how she determined to act without delay, and informed the +doctor over the telephone that she meant to have another +opinion. He was not pleased, but was, as Dr. Danby +foretold, obliged to consent. The doctors met, and differed +gravely; upon which she had formally placed herself +and the case in Dr. Danby's hands. Pansy was +moved that day, and from the first few hours showed +symptoms of relief. Then had come the difficulty with +her mother. This she had solved without applying to +Gaunt. She had gone to her mother's rooms in Margaret +Street, found that she and Grover could both be taken in, +and had moved thither accordingly. Her exact explanations +made him smile and grunt, and brought a moisture +to his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +To this letter there had been a postscript. Under her +signature these words had been scrawled, as if on impulse: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>Thank you—oh, thank you!</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +He had dwelt upon those words until he had half persuaded +himself that she must have perceived something of +his remorse, and wished to reassure him. The following +letters from her had not, however, done anything to foster +this idea. He longed to write and tell her to go back to +the Langham, and take her mother there, to bid her choose +herself a fur motor-coat, and anything else she liked, but +he restrained all these impulses. He meant her to come +back, if at all, as she had departed, in the full persuasion +of his cruelty and harshness, to come back because her +crystal honesty would not allow her to break her promise, +even to him. +</P> + +<P> +With this end in view, he forced himself to write to her +as curtly as possible, signing himself "O. G." merely. +</P> + +<P> +The missive he now held in his hand was no exception +to his wife's usual style. He read it, first with his customary +feeling of disappointment and heart-hunger, then +with the succeeding glow of reassurance, as he reached the +little account of money expended. Somehow he could +read between the lines what an effort it was to her to accept +his help; it was done only because Pansy mattered so +infinitely more than she did; because Pansy must not +suffer merely for the reason that Virginia's pride would +be hurt in the process of curing her. +</P> + +<P> +What he hardly guessed was the constant vexation, of +the pin-prick kind, which Virginia was then enduring +from her mother. Grover was a good sort, but she was +neither young nor active, and she did object to being maid +to two ladies. Moreover, her own mistress, Mrs. Gaunt, +was the most considerate of her sex, but Mrs. Mynors was +"quite another pair of shoes." As usually happens in +such cases, the considerate party was made the victim of +the maid's ill-humour, while the inconsiderate brought +her mending and renovating with smiling face and got it +all done, free of charge, the while she made scornful comments +upon Grover's attainments, and wondered how Virgie +could stand such a woman about her for a moment. +</P> + +<P> +The nursing home at which Pansy was now placed was +just as expensive as the one she occupied formerly. +Therefore it was surprising to Gaunt to find that, although +both Virginia and her mother were now in town, not to +mention Grover, instead of Mrs. Mynors alone, the total +spent in a week was less than in those preceding by quite +a noticeable amount. +</P> + +<P> +The letter of to-day was an exception in containing a +postscript. It was apparently of the least interesting description. +A small item in the accounts was marked with +an asterisk, and at the foot of the page Virginia had +written: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>When I come back, I can explain this.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The words sent a thrill through every nerve of the man +reading. +</P> + +<P> +<i>"When I come back!"</i> +</P> + +<P> +He leaned forward, seizing old Grim by her ears, and +rubbing his hands up and down her neck in the way she +loved. "When she comes back, old girl," he whispered. +Then he broke off. His eye had wandered round the +dreary, untidy, ill-arranged den. Was it a home to which +to bring such a bride as his? Was there anything he +could do to improve it? +</P> + +<P> +Slowly he rose, and limped into the little sitting-room +which he had called hers. There were one or two small +articles of her personal possessions left about in it. He +wondered whether he could have it done up by the time of +her return. He distrusted his own taste profoundly. +What did girls like? +</P> + +<P> +He remembered the drawing-room at Perley Hatch, +which the Ferrises had recently repainted and papered. +No! That was not his idea. He felt that Virginia +would never like big bunches of floral decoration all over +her walls. +</P> + +<P> +Then he remembered the little room in which Mrs. +Mynors had received him at Wayhurst. Tiny as it was, +how its charm, its dainty elegance had impressed him! +He closed his eyes and recalled its aspect. Ivory paint—yes, +that was all right; and walls of a warm, sunny golden +brown. How would that suit her? Acting on impulse +he rang the bell, and said he wanted to speak to Mrs. +Wells. +</P> + +<P> +The housekeeper, when consulted, was delighted with +the idea. It had apparently presented itself to the mind +of the servants' hall long ago. She would send down a +boy at once, to telephone from Manton into Derby for +a man to come over the following morning to take the +order. +</P> + +<P> +"The furnishing I must leave until Mrs. Gaunt returns," +said Gaunt, in a depressed way. "I can see that +this stuff is all wrong, but I can't see what she would put +in its place." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, as to that, sir. If it's a question of what Mrs. +Gaunt would like—why, I can tell you that myself, and +you won't have far to seek, for we've got it all in the house +at this moment," was Mrs. Wells's surprising answer. +</P> + +<P> +"Got it in the house?" +</P> + +<P> +"In the lumber-room, sir. Your great-aunts, the Miss +Gaunts, turned all the old things into the lumber-room, +after their father died, about fifty years ago, and refurnished +great part of the house, so I'm told. There's a +great many things up there, and Mrs. Gaunt, when she +saw them, she went into raptures over them. Said they +was as old as Adam, which I could hardly believe——" She +broke off abruptly, for Gaunt, her morose master, had +laughed aloud, and the circumstance was startling. +</P> + +<P> +"Adam's period," he hastened to apologise. "Yes, go +on, please. If you showed the lumber-room to Mrs. +Gaunt, why have you never mentioned it to me?" +</P> + +<P> +The good woman's eyes grew very round. "Why, sir, +you was here when I came," said she. "I concluded you +knew all about it. My part was only to see as the things +didn't perish, for I have a kind of liking myself for all +them antiquities." +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt's eyes were still dancing over the Adam joke; +and his wandering gaze had strayed to the mantel, and +realised that this was of the same period. Doubtless what +made these walnut carved whatnots and arm-chairs look +so wrong was their silent clash with the fine simplicity of +the dental moulding. As his eye wandered over the faded +pink wallpaper, with its brown, green and blue roses, he +suddenly perceived, like a man whose eyes are newly +opened, that the room was moulded for panels. It struck +him that this was the treatment required. +</P> + +<P> +"So Mrs. Gaunt liked the things?" +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed, yes, sir. She said how she would like to use +them. I can show you the exact pieces she picked out, +sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Come along," said Gaunt impetuously. Here was a +glorious idea. Here was something to fill in blank days +of waiting! Virgie should find her own room at least +habitable; incomplete, of course, and waiting for her +touch, but not impossible as at present. It would welcome +her, when she came back—<i>when she came back!</i> +</P> + +<P> +Would she come? +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +A CASE FOR INTERPOSITION? +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>Why, here you have the awfulest of crimes<BR> + For nothing! Hell broke loose on a butterfly!<BR> + Yet here is the monster! Why, he's a mere man—<BR> + Born, bred and brought up in the usual way.</i>"<BR> + —<SPAN CLASS="scap">R. Browning</SPAN>.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It was six o'clock in the evening. Virginia stepped +from the door of the Nursing Home out into Queen Anne +Street with a radiant face. +</P> + +<P> +She left Pansy smiling, content, in the hands of people +who were not merely experts, but kind and loving. +The daily improvement grew more marked. Dr. Danby +that day had spoken more encouragingly than ever before. +The delight of it, the fascination of watching colour steal +back to the cheeks, and light to the eyes; while the awful +look of pain vanished from the lines of the mouth, leaving +it a child's mouth once more—this was enfolding the +elder sister in a sweetness which it seemed no dark future +had power to impair. Gaunt was far from her mind; she +was living in the present moment—living within the +walls of the room that contained Pansy. +</P> + +<P> +A man came rapidly along the street towards her, on +the same side of the way. Just as she turned into Portland +Place she came face to face with him. It was Gerald +Rosenberg. His start of surprise was admirably +done. As to Virgie, in the first moment, she was merely +glad to see him—ready to take him into the joy that +filled her, to share with him her glow of thankfulness and +hope. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" She stopped, giving him her hand, looking +into his face with those eyes that had seemed to him so +fathomless as to cause him to hesitate before letting his +very being drown in their depths. Now it seemed that +they were changed. The girl was, somehow, mysteriously +a woman. She retained all her innocence, all her girlish +candour, but there was something more, something heroic +and splendid. At any rate, it appeared so to the man's +enchanted gaze. +</P> + +<P> +"This is indeed good fortune"—he hardly knew what +he said. "I heard that you were in town, but hardly +hoped—why did you not let Mims know of your being +here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, that is easily answered. I have been devoted, +body and soul, to my little sister. The first few nights I +was in town I spent at the Home, for we did not even +know that she would live. I have not had a moment for +my friends." +</P> + +<P> +"But she is better now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, thank God! I can hardly speak of it." The +tears welled up and misted the changeful eyes. "It is +so wonderful—so unspeakable—seeing her, as it were, +coming back to me from the grave. If she had died, I +can't think what I should have done." +</P> + +<P> +"I remember Mims always said you were such a devoted +sister." +</P> + +<P> +Virgie laughed. "So would anybody be devoted to +Pansy," she replied cheerfully. "But I am consumed +with curiosity. You say that you had heard I was in +London. Do tell me how you heard it." +</P> + +<P> +His lip curled and his expression changed. "I heard +it from the person most likely to know. Mr. Gaunt told +me." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Gaunt!" It was too sudden. Usually she had +herself perfectly in hand, but the thought of the Ogre, +intruding upon her moment of bliss, touched her inmost +feeling, and she grew as white as a sheet. Gerald's eyes +never left her face. He saw that pallor, saw the fugitive +glance of panic that passed across the eyes like a cloud +over the sun. It was so, then; it was as he had feared, +as he had secretly known! She had been bought by that +malevolent-looking man—the creature who had marked +her down in the picture gallery, had pursued, hunted, +caught, led captive! The feelings in the young man's +heart were for a moment so violent that he could not speak. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia and he had turned mechanically as he uttered +the fatal name, and they now began to walk down Portland +Place, towards Regent's Street side by side. "Somehow," +said her soft voice at last, "it seems very surprising +to me that you should have met Mr. Gaunt. Do tell +me how it came about. I—I believed that he was at +home—in Derbyshire." +</P> + +<P> +The speech showed him the measure of her apprehension. +She had thought herself free of her tyrant for a +while, and now supposed him to have followed her to London. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it was in Derbyshire that I met him," he hastened +to assure her. "At the house of some people called +Ferris. I went down to interview Ferris about a company +that he wants to float—a lead-mine. Your husband +was lunching there." +</P> + +<P> +"Lunching at Perley Hatch?" She seemed surprised, +he thought. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. On the same line as I was, I fancy. We all +went and had a look at the cave afterwards. I think my +father will accept a directorship, and probably Mr. Gaunt +also will come on the board." +</P> + +<P> +Before reflecting, she cried, in a pleased voice: "Then +does that mean that we shall see something of you? Shall +you be coming down sometimes to Derbyshire?" +</P> + +<P> +Gerald almost choked. There was so much to say +about this that he knew he had better say nothing. Yet, +as in her case, words leaped to his lips before he reflected. +"I hardly know. It is a question as to how much I could +bear." +</P> + +<P> +"How much you could bear?" Her eyes were raised, +astonished, troubled. He knew that if he said what was +in his mind, his present chance might vanish in a moment. +"I won't say what I meant," he replied in a low tone. +"Why should I force my troubles on you? You have +enough anxiety with your little sister. But is it too late +to get some tea?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, I have had tea, thanks!" +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you staying? " +</P> + +<P> +"In Margaret Street—my mother is with me." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed? Do you think she would receive me, if I +were to pay a short call?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am sure she would be pleased. But you will not +find her at home now; she has gone to the theatre." +</P> + +<P> +"At this hour?" +</P> + +<P> +"She is dining at her club first. She does not like +lodging-house food." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, food makes very little difference to me. I put +up with it, for I am too tired to go and dine out, after +a long day with Pansy." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you would come and dine with me. I know +a charming place quite near here, where they give you +Italian things—you are so fond of Italy. Let me take +you and give you something to eat, and then you shall go +straight back to your rooms and rest. There is so much +I want to hear." +</P> + +<P> +Her brows knit. "I have nothing to tell you," she answered +slowly. +</P> + +<P> +He blamed himself for having risked the last sentence. +</P> + +<P> +She seemed to turn over his offer in her mind. At +last: "No," she said, but he felt with reluctance. "I +can't come this evening. I am tired and stupid. Some +other evening, if you will ask us both." +</P> + +<P> +"Then must I go and dine alone at my club? My +father and Mims are in Switzerland, and I am all alone." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" Her pity was awake at once. "I did not +know." +</P> + +<P> +"Because you are tired is just why you should come," +he went on. "I'm not a stranger, some one whom you +must exert yourself to entertain. I'm your friend, am I +not, Virgie?" +</P> + +<P> +The last word was hardly breathed. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you are—and friends are precious. If you are +alone—really—and don't mind a dull person——" +</P> + +<P> +Even as she spoke he had hailed a taxi, and she was +seated in it at his side before she well knew that she had +consented. +</P> + +<P> +"This is the one advantage of your being married—I +can take you about," said the young man, with an air of +quiet confidence. "Gaunt seemed anxious about you. +He said you had been unwell, and would, I am sure, be +grateful to me for looking after you, and preventing your +dining on a poached egg, which is what I know to have +been your immoral intention." +</P> + +<P> +She laughed. "Tell him to stop a moment at Margaret +Street. I must tell my maid not to keep the +poached egg hot," she replied. +</P> + +<P> +This was done, and he took her to Ciliani's, the most +charming restaurant in London. There was no band to +drown talk, the tables were arranged so that parties did +not intrude upon each other. They found places near a +window, and as Virgie seated herself she thought of that +awful lunch with her husband at the Savoy Restaurant. +The memory made her wince. She remembered her +panic terror, her dread of what was to come, her timid +attempts to seem at ease. Little had she known what +really awaited her. +</P> + +<P> +She resigned herself now to Gerald's care with a sudden +beautiful sensation of relief. He was an old friend. +In fact, the Rosenbergs were practically the only people +she knew who belonged to the life at Lissendean as well +as to more recent times. Perhaps Gerald realised how +precious an asset such a link was, for he began to talk to +her of Lissendean, and of those happy days when they had +ridden and golfed together, had roamed the country with +lunch in their pockets, and acted charades in the old hall. +</P> + +<P> +All through the charm of such talk Virginia's inner +self, the sentinel conscience which ruled her, was helping +her to gird on her armour. She was keenly aware that +Gerald's first mention of her husband had caught her unprepared, +also that Gerald had seen and interpreted her +confusion. +</P> + +<P> +It was not until coffee had been served, and he was +lighting his cigarette that the moment came. He leaned +forward and spoke, composedly, but with a weight which +made itself felt. +</P> + +<P> +"I left you—unavoidably—at my father's command, +one lovely evening in June. When we parted, there were +in my heart feelings which I can't but believe you +must have seen and interpreted. A fortnight later I +learned that you were about to be married. Has it occurred +to you to wonder whether I suffered?" +</P> + +<P> +Virginia was drawing her gloves from her little beaded +bag, and daintily pulling out the fingers. "But why +should I suppose that you would be suffering?" she demanded +quietly. +</P> + +<P> +He hesitated. "Are you being quite straightforward +with me, Virgie?" +</P> + +<P> +Again she countered with a question. "Is there any +obligation for me to be quite straightforward with you, +Mr. Rosenberg? Complete straightforwardness is a large +demand." +</P> + +<P> +He grew nettled. His elbow rested on the table, his +handsome eyes were full upon her. "Honestly, do you +think you treated me fairly?" he wished to know. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly. I don't see quite what you mean," was +her steady reply. +</P> + +<P> +"Then—then you really did not know that I was in +love with you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I did not. Of course not." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't try to blind me," he went on urgently, his voice +a little unsteady. "I am better informed than you think. +I know that you had never seen Gaunt until that day at +Hertford House. You went thence, and without a word, +or a sign, you engaged yourself to marry a man who was +a total stranger. Do you suppose I do not guess that you +were forced into that?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you guess so, your guess is quite wrong. I had +heard of Mr. Gaunt all my life. I had a romantic idea +of him—girls do, you know. I was told, by mother, +various things about him, and I knew he was unhappy +and lonely. We looked at one another—in the Gallery—that +day——" +</P> + +<P> +Her voice tailed off, and she seemed absorbed in the +diligent pushing down of the soft kid upon her fingers. +</P> + +<P> +Gerald was baffled. The same idea crossed his mind +which had gripped her mother's fancy. It had been then +a case of mutual love at first sight, one of those strange, +inexplicable attractions that seem like magnetism. He +looked at the wedding-ring and the other beautiful rings +upon the little hand moving so dexterously. He thought +how zealously a middle-aged, unattractive man would +strive to secure the affection of this wonderful creature. +Could it really be that she was contented with her lot? +After all, had she made her calculations? Had she realised +that his own people would make difficulties, that she +and he would be none too well off at first if they married? +Had she deliberately chosen the richer man, as his father +had insinuated?... +</P> + +<P> +He recalled her husband's words, spoken only two days +previously. "My wife's beauty is the least part of her +charm. She is pure gold throughout." Was that true, +or was Gaunt successfully hoodwinked? So deft was +Virginia's parry that he could not be sure. +</P> + +<P> +When first they met that evening, he had had no plan +at all; he was merely filled with an aching desire to behold +her face. Now it dawned upon him that, if she were +the calculating, self-seeking person whom he sometimes +supposed her, she could not suffer from being in his society, +and there was no reason why he should not see a +good deal of her. +</P> + +<P> +"Love at first sight—most interesting!" was what he +said aloud; and a long interval elapsed before he spoke +at all. +</P> + +<P> +She assented to his definition, with the least little ghost +of a smile. +</P> + +<P> +"How long are you likely to be in town?" he asked +abruptly. +</P> + +<P> +"I think I shall stay until they can take Pansy to the +sea," she replied. "Dr. Danby says that in about ten +days she can be moved on a water-bed in a motor-car to +Cliftonville. Osbert says she is to have just what the +doctor orders, so I shall arrange for her to go that way. +It is, as you may suppose, very difficult for me to be so +long away from Omberleigh, but my husband is very good +and patient. He knows it was a matter of life and death." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, as long as you are in town, I shall make it my +business to see that you have some fresh air every day," +he announced. "May I bring a motor to-morrow round +to the Home, and take you and Mrs. Mynors to dine +somewhere a little way out of town? It is still light +until past eight o'clock, and in an hour or so we could +get to Essendon, or Chenies, or one of those pretty little +places—no need to stew in London these deadly August +days." +</P> + +<P> +Her eye lit up, and she began to speak impatiently, +then checked herself. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, say just what you were going to say." +</P> + +<P> +She laughed. "I was going to be barefaced enough +to ask you to take Tony as well. He has been in camp, +with his O.T.C., but he comes to London to-morrow, and +I want him to have a good time." +</P> + +<P> +"By all means. Couldn't you get away half an hour +sooner?" +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head. "I must stay until they turn me +out; Pansy would fret if I did not. But I will be as +punctual as I can, and tell mother and Tony to come +round to Queen Anne Street." +</P> + +<P> +"On no account! I shall fetch them from Margaret +Street on my way to you." +</P> + +<P> +"You are very kind and thoughtful," she responded +joyfully. "I do feel that a motor run would do me good +after all those hours in the sick room." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +For the first few days Virginia said nothing of her +meeting with Gerald in her letters to Gaunt. This was +not because she wished to hide them, but because she +habitually mentioned only such points as seemed essential—Pansy's +progress and her own expenditure. Tony's +expenses, her mother's club dinners and theatres, came +out of her own private allowance. It was wonderful how +far a pound could be made to go in museums and picture +palaces for Tony's benefit. After a few days, however, +she thought it better to mention what was going on, lest +her husband should think there might be something clandestine +about it. She wrote accordingly, in answer to his +demand for an account of her own health: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>I have been feeling very much better lately, for Mr. +Rosenberg—whom I met last week in the street, and +who told me he had been to Perley Hatch, and had seen +you—has been taking mother and me for drives in the +evening. His people are out of town, and he has the car +to himself. We have been to Windsor and Burnham +Beeches, to Virginia Water, and all sorts of places. The +air does me a great deal of good. I am really quite well +now.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Gaunt read it grimly. He told himself that he might +have expected it. Was it likely that Rosenberg would +leave her alone, having learned that she was in London +without him? +</P> + +<P> +The test was growing more acute, the shadowy tie, +which bound her to him, more attenuated. She would +never come back. He went into the little sitting-room, +wherein the decorators were at work, and wondered at +his own folly. He was carrying that folly to an absurd +pitch. He was having a copy executed of the statue of +Love from the Wallace collection. It was to stand upon +a column in the charming semicircular bay window, looking +out upon the prim terrace garden. +</P> + +<P> +Should he write now—write and offer her her release? +</P> + +<P> +He sneered at himself for having ascertained the limits +of his own penitence. Although he was ready to swear +that he would do anything for her happiness, he could +not do that. Having once seen her, at his table, on the +terrace, in the hall, having heard her voice in the stark +silence of his desolate house, the craving to have her back +was, he had to confess, even greater than the craving for +her content. Besides, he argued, she had been willing +once. She had accepted her destiny, had meant to do +her duty, spoken of being bound by her vows. When she +found that there was love—even adoration—to be lavished +upon her, would she not become reconciled? +</P> + +<P> +Ah! the time for that had gone by. Rosenberg had +now stepped into the picture. She knew nothing of his +own change of heart. To her he was a gloomy and cruel +tyrant. Had he used his chance when wonderfully he +had obtained it—had he not horrified her at the outset +by his unmanly, despicable behaviour—what might not +have been possible? +</P> + +<P> +Thoughts such as these were his torment day and night; +and his sleep went from him. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors and Gerald Rosenberg were strolling side +by side upon the North Terrace of Windsor Castle. It +was growing late, and they were expecting to be ejected +by officials shortly; but Virginia and Tony had gone off +together to look at Eton College, and to sigh over the deplorable +fact that Tony would never occupy his dead +father's place in Brooke's House. +</P> + +<P> +"I found it out accidentally," Mrs. Mynors was saying, +"when she first came to town. She was in a terrible state +of distress about Pansy, and would not go away from the +nursing home when night came. They were very kind, +and let her lie on a sofa in a sitting-room, and I was in +an arm-chair. She dropped off to sleep a dozen times, I +should think, and each time woke in a kind of nightmare, +crying out to him that he might torture her as he liked, +but she was going to Pansy; he might cut her to pieces +when she got back." +</P> + +<P> +"Good God!" said Gerald. +</P> + +<P> +"It was dreadful to listen," sighed the mother. +"First, she was repeating: 'I am not afraid—I am not +afraid of you any more!' Then she was begging him +not to make her try to walk, because she could not stand. +I can't think what he can have been doing to her, but I +have made up my mind that, by hook or by crook, she +must not go back to him. The thing is: How to prevent +it?" +</P> + +<P> +The drops were standing upon the young man's forehead. +He had had hints before, but this was the first +time he had succeeded in being alone with Mrs. Mynors +long enough to hear all. +</P> + +<P> +"How could you—how could you have permitted it?" +he broke out violently. "Such an inhuman sacrifice!" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear Gerald, does the modern mother control her +children? Oh, don't think I am saying a word to disparage +my darling. I know she is a martyr; I know she sacrificed +herself for us. But I implored her not to do so. +If only——" She broke off. He waited, feverishly +eager, and as she did not continue, broke out: +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if only what?" +</P> + +<P> +"If only she had never gone to London," murmured +the mother in a low voice. "Then he would never have +seen her, and she would never have seen—you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Never have seen me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I know it was not the first time you had met. +But it was the fatal time. Poor innocent child! she gave +you her heart, and you handed it back with a polite thank +you. Did you not, dear boy?" +</P> + +<P> +"Great heavens, Mrs. Mynors, do you know what you +are saying? You are suggesting that Virgie loves me." +</P> + +<P> +"But surely that is not news to you?" she said, with +lifted brows, as one astonished at unlooked-for density of +perception. +</P> + +<P> +He turned impulsively away from her, leaning his arms +upon the grey stone wall and gazing away into the dusk. +Some moments passed in a wild kind of silence. Then +the castle warder called to them that he was closing the +doors. Without a word the young man moved, walking +at his companion's side through the little door in the wall, +under the arch, out upon the ramp which descends past +St. George's Chapel to the large gate. He was as white as +a sheet. +</P> + +<P> +Not a soul was in sight. They paused, gazing down +upon the sunk garden which now blooms in the dry moat +of the Round Tower. Suddenly Gerald burst into speech. +Forgetting for the moment all that his father had told +him of this woman, he poured out the story of how he had +been overpersuaded, how his father—urging upon him +the imprudence of such a match—had coaxed him away +that last night of Virgie's stay, when the confession of his +feeling was trembling on the tip of his tongue. +</P> + +<P> +"That was what I did," he said. "I was just waiting. +I knew of no danger to her. If I had had a hint, if you +had sent me a line to tell me that she was being hunted. +But all the same," he broke off, his eyes burning in his +head, "all the same, to me it is inconceivable that any +man, however sunk, could have been cruel to her! Afterwards +he might—later, but not at first—not when he +had but just acquired that perfect thing for his own! +Oh, it makes me mad! I daren't think of it! It's too incredibly +ugly—too wild. Are you sure? You don't +think those cries of hers that you overheard can have been +delirium? It seems altogether outside the pale of possibility +that he should have done anything but grovel at her +feet!" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors had her lovely face averted. She sighed. +"There is more in it than that, Gerald," she murmured +in a low voice. "I fear it is worse than you think. +Have you ever heard of such a thing as a secret maniac? +Do you know that there are men, outwardly sane, who go +about the world like other people, but who have one single +streak of insanity—a bee in the bonnet, as the vulgar +saying has it?" +</P> + +<P> +He looked sick with horror. "Do you mean that she +is bound for life to a man who isn't sane?" +</P> + +<P> +"Gaunt has had a sad life. I know his story. He +thought himself badly used by a woman. It made a profound +impression upon him. It is his fixed idea. When +I heard my child's broken ravings, the awful thought +flashed through my mind—has he some horrible idea of +making Virginia pay for another woman's sins?" +</P> + +<P> +"If so, he must be mad, raving mad. We could get +him put into an asylum," hissed Gerald. +</P> + +<P> +"Not so easily as you think. Such men are very cunning. +You see, he has allowed her to come away from +him. He is acting, as every one would say, a most magnanimous +part. I and my orphan children are the creatures +of his bounty. It would be difficult, indeed, to bring +home to him what he may make her endure in private." +</P> + +<P> +"Unbearable," muttered Gerald. "I hardly dare let +my mind dwell upon it. But you are going merely upon +what you overheard. She has said nothing to you of his +being unkind?" +</P> + +<P> +"She is far too proud. I judge by what she does not +say. Her reticence to me, her mother, can have but one +explanation. He has forbidden her, on pain of certain +punishment, to say anything. I know that it is so. I +am certain of it." +</P> + +<P> +His burning eyes, searching through the twilight +which gathered thickly about them, saw the dim figures +of Tony and his sister advancing through the gateway. +"There they are," he muttered hoarsely. "We must drop +this now, but mind, we must speak of it again. Something +must be done. If all this is true, I swear she +shall never go back to him. I'll see to that. She loves +me! Oh, what a gigantic blunder life is!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>Take back the love you gave, I claim<BR> + Only a memory of the same;<BR> + With this beside, if you will not blame,<BR> + Your leave for one more last ride with me.</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Browning</SPAN>.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +For ten days more Virginia's life floated upon a summer +sea. She had Tony, she had Pansy, she had Gerald. +She was away from Gaunt, and his letters made no demand +upon her. He never mentioned the date, or even +alluded to the fact, of her return. She had, however, set +herself a limit. When Pansy went to the seaside she +must go back to her prison. +</P> + +<P> +The nurse who was now in charge of the case would +be permitted to accompany the child, so that there would +be no valid reason for Virginia to go too. Mrs. Mynors, +who was having the time of her life in London, though +she grumbled incessantly at the need to keep her expenditure +so rigorously within bounds, was not anxious +for the move. Her daughter, however, was scrupulously +determined that it should take place at the earliest date +which Dr. Danby would sanction. She was very grateful +to her husband. Her gratitude had taken the edge +off the bitterness with which she regarded him. Her +fear remained, but his present generosity could not but +do something to salve the wound his cruelty had made. +To take undue advantage of his kindness was what she +would never suffer herself to do. +</P> + +<P> +Yet, when the time of parting drew near, it became +evident to every one that Pansy would fret so much at +her sister's departure as to make it likely that her grief +might react disastrously upon her frail returning health. +</P> + +<P> +This distressed Virginia terribly. She hardly knew +which way her duty lay. It seemed almost as if she +must stay with the child until she was strong enough to +be reasoned with. At least Gaunt's health would not +suffer from her absence. Yet the situation galled her. +Here they all were, living upon his bounty, while he +waited alone in Derbyshire bereft of his newly made +wife. Had she loved him, all would have been otherwise, +she would have felt it natural that he should help +her, and she would not have hesitated to choose the path +of duty, even if absence from him had been a misery to +her. As things stood, she was uncomfortably aware that, +so far, she had not fulfilled her share of the contract. +He had paid her price, but she was devoted, body and soul, +to Pansy and not to him. +</P> + +<P> +That night she cried bitterly when alone in bed, while +the conflict raged in her heart; and strangely, that night, +at Omberleigh, Gaunt had the illusion that he heard her +sobbing, as he had heard her upon the night when she received +the news of Pansy's danger. So vivid was the +impression that he got up, opened the door of her room, +and stood a long moment, in the moonlight, gazing at the +smooth, empty bed and the dim outlines of the furniture, +before he could realise that she was not there. +</P> + +<P> +Next morning she wrote to him: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>I am in a difficulty. Pansy is making herself unhappy +about going to the sea without me. She has fretted so +that Dr. Danby spoke seriously to me yesterday, asking +if I could not manage to stay a few days longer just to +settle her into her new surroundings. We have found +rooms very near the sea, not at Cliftonville, but at Worthing. +The roads there are so nice and flat that she can +be wheeled out upon the Parade every day, and the doctor +says as soon as she is a little stronger she will lose this +silly fancy about my leaving her. I am ashamed to mention +it to you, when you have done and are doing so much. +I will be guided by what you wish. I had arranged +definitely to go back to Omberleigh on Monday. If you +think I had better keep to that date I will do so. If I +may instead take Pansy to Worthing, and stay there with +her till the following Friday, returning to you on Saturday, +I shall be most grateful, but I feel guilty in asking +for it, when I have already made such large demands upon +your patience.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The answer to this letter came by telegram: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>Stay as long as advisable.—Gaunt.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Tony brought this message round to the Home from +Margaret Street in the course of the morning, and great, +indeed, was the joy it caused. Pansy was a different +creature when she learned that "that dear old trump of +an Osbert was going to let Virgie come to Worthing." +</P> + +<P> +There was a tea-party in the little invalid's room +that afternoon to celebrate the occasion. Gerald Rosenberg +was present. The journey was to be made in his +car, and he thought he would take a week's holiday at +Worthing, and have a run round the country thereabout. +</P> + +<P> +It was a delightful plan, and in Virginia's eyes it +had no drawbacks. She was now wholly at ease with +Gerald. Since that first day, he had asked no awkward +questions, trenched on no dangerous ground. He had +been the best of friends, and was apparently quite content +to talk to her mother for long periods during which +she and Tony roamed together. +</P> + +<P> +Under his auspices the removal to Worthing took place +most satisfactorily. The day was dull and chilly, but +there was no rain, and Pansy's spirits never flagged. +</P> + +<P> +For the first day or two following their arrival, there +was so much to be done, the elder sister's time was so +fully occupied in making all the arrangements that were +necessary, that she hardly realised how time was flying. +It was on Thursday morning that she awoke with a terrible +sensation of depression, amounting to horror. She +had dreamed of Gaunt. This had happened to her twice, +and only twice, before. Once, upon the night following +their first wordless encounter at Hertford House. It had +been an oddly vivid dream, producing a feeling of excitement +which persisted after she awoke. The second occasion +was at Omberleigh. It occurred—though she +naturally was unaware of the fact—on the night during +which her husband wandered through the park in an agony +of remorse. That dream too had left an impression which +seemed disproportionate. This last was, however, the +most haunting of all. +</P> + +<P> +In it she found herself searching through the house +at Omberleigh, looking for Gaunt, who could not be +found. She went upstairs to the garrets, where Mrs. +Wells had once taken her, but the rooms seemed to have +been altered. In her dream she said: "If I come to the +room with the Sheraton furniture in it, I shall know where +I am." She could not find it, however, and after descending +stairs which were the stairs of the Hertford House +Gallery, she ran along a passage in search of the sitting-room +she had been told she might call her own. That, +too, had vanished; in its place was something pale, dim, +and shapeless. All empty—Gaunt was not to be seen, +and she had been made aware that it was most important +that she should find him. She passed out into the garden, +in a wet mist which hid everything from her sight, and she +dare not hasten for fear of stepping upon his dead body. +Terror took her, and she tried, as one tries in dreams, to +run. Her feet were rooted to the ground, she was incapable +of movement; and out of the fog came Gaunt, with +his eyes closed. He was repeating words, but in so low a +tone that she could not immediately hear. She listened, +first attentively, then eagerly, because she knew that it +was so tremendously urgent that she should understand; +and at last something reached her consciousness. "Are +you coming? No. I said you would not come. I never +dared to think you would. But you promised—you +promised——" +</P> + +<P> +She tried to say: "Here I am, do you not see me?" +But she failed to articulate, and awoke with the sound +of his muttered words ringing in her ears. +</P> + +<P> +The morning scene upon which she looked out was +gay. The sun shone lazily over a calm sea, there was +no wind, and the seafront was already lively with the +passing figures of those who had been out for an early +dip. When she went into Pansy's room she found that +the child had slept without awakening the whole night +through; and was greeted with a smile of content and +freedom from pain which made her heart swell with joy +and gratitude. +</P> + +<P> +This was Gaunt's doing! Without him, this marvellous +recovery would have been impossible. It was he who +had not only furnished the funds, but who had sent her +to Dr. Danby, perhaps the one man in the world who +could have achieved so wonderful a result. For the authorities, +at first so grave, now began to talk of a cure. +Lameness there would always be, but the nurse was certain +that the power of locomotion would be recovered. +Virgie knelt by the bed, her whole mind flooded with the +poignant memory of her pitiful dream. "Oh, Pansy +blossom," said she, "isn't it wonderful? What do we not +owe to Osbert?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Pansy, turning her head eagerly, "do you +know, Virgie, I was just thinking about that. Nurse +talked to me a bit yesterday. She said I must not be +selfish. She said how good you had been to sacrifice +so much of your time to me; and how miserable it is +for Osbert all alone at Omberleigh. I feel rather ashamed +of myself, darling, and I can see quite plainly that I must +let you go." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Pansy!" cried Virginia brokenly, seeing her way +thus unexpectedly made clear. Was she glad or sorry? +Her imagination took a peep into the future, and for a +minute sheer fright paralysed her. Then her dream +floated before her, and she almost heard the words: "Are +you coming? You promised! You promised!" +</P> + +<P> +Yes, she was coming. She would keep her promise, +as she had always intended; but now, for the first time, +she faced the terror of it. Once away from her gaoler, +in the insistence of the present moment, she had been able +to forget. Other things had filled her heart. Apprehension +for Pansy's safety had blotted out apprehension for +Virginia's happiness. Now with vehemence her panic fear +resurged. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Down in the sitting-room, Mrs. Mynors, daintily attired +in seaside raiment and white shoes, had just rung +for breakfast. Tony and Gerald, who had been together +for a swim, walked past under the window. Gerald +stopped and called up that he was going along to his +hotel for breakfast, and would be back in an hour, decently +attired. +</P> + +<P> +"Come in and have some breakfast with us, just as you +are," urged Mrs. Mynors, leaning from the open casement. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes," cried Tony, gripping his arm joyfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't mind if I do," answered Gerald, and ascended +the stairs leisurely, while the boy dashed up to a higher +floor, to put down his towels. "Tony met a pal down +on the sands," remarked Rosenberg, as he shook hands +with Virginia's mother. "I have taken two tickets on +the <i>char-à-banc</i> for them to go to Arundel. If you will +stay with Pansy the arrangements are quite complete." +</P> + +<P> +"That's a splendid idea," replied Mrs. Mynors with +satisfaction. "You are a good general, Gerald." +</P> + +<P> +He looked somewhat doubtful, as though a cloud passed +over his mood. +</P> + +<P> +"I hate it," he said, "but I must do something. If I +don't, she will go back to that crazy beast to-morrow as +sure as the sun rises, and what can we do then?" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear Gerald, why do you say that you hate it? +You are not going to do anything to which anybody could +take exception!" +</P> + +<P> +"No, but I am going to trick her with a put-up job. +If she ever found that out she would dislike it. I have +seen so much of her lately, and her sincerity and simplicity +are almost terrible." +</P> + +<P> +Virgie's mother smiled rather superciliously. "Yet +she can keep her own counsel," she remarked incisively. +"I have done all that I knew to secure her confidence, +and never one word has she let slip. But for the fact +that she never mentions him and will not let me see letters +from him, I should hardly suspect——" +</P> + +<P> +"You are sure?" He turned from the window with +intent expression. "Remember, I am going almost entirely +upon what you tell me——" +</P> + +<P> +"Gerald, it seemed to me that I must have some certainty, +and I did a thing which you will probably condemn. +I looked at a letter from him to her, which was +accidentally left accessible. I made a copy of it to show +you. This is it, word for word. There was no more." +</P> + +<P> +He grew scarlet. The pretty woman was approaching +him with the bit of paper. Was it taking an unfair +advantage of Virgie to steal a march upon her loyalty thus? +He told himself that the end justified the means. He was +too deep in love now. He could not draw back. He took +the paper and read: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<SPAN CLASS="scap">Omberleigh.</SPAN> + Tuesday.<BR> +</P> + +<P> +<i>Yours of 5th duly recd. Glad journey satisfactorily +accomplished. Rooms seem reasonable. Suppose Mrs. +M. will go back to Wayhurst in a few days, leaving child +in charge of nurse. Trust you have done as I ordered +you with regard to m.c. This is important.—O. G.</i>" +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"That is all—absolutely all—that was written on +the sheet of paper," murmured Mrs. Mynors, watching +him read. +</P> + +<P> +"What is m.c., do you know?" +</P> + +<P> +"Have no idea. A nice letter for a man to write to his +few weeks' bride, is it not?" +</P> + +<P> +"It shows them to be on very peculiar terms," he admitted, +with knit brows. "Yes, you must be right. The +man is a bit cracked. Was there no beginning to the letter?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing." +</P> + +<P> +"Yet you think there is no chance of our being able +to get him certified as of unsound mind?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not the least; because he is very sane, except on this +point. Have you asked Mr. Ferris what he thinks of +him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ferris thinks him most able. Says he is the best +magistrate in the district. They all down there seem to +suppose that he is quite devoted to his wife. They laugh +at him as an old bachelor hopelessly in love." +</P> + +<P> +"That letter is the letter of a man in love, is it not?" +</P> + +<P> +Gerald shrugged his shoulders. "Of course, I have +been extremely careful to keep off the subject with her," +he said. "There is one thing, however, which makes me +horribly suspicious that you may be right—that he is +being actually unkind to her. I mean this. She seems +to believe that, when she leaves here, it is final. Now +and then, when she is off her guard, she seems to assume +that she will never see any of us again. I did what +amounted to some pretty open fishing for an invitation +to Omberleigh the other day. She was wholly unresponsive." +</P> + +<P> +"She did admit to me, in one letter, that she did very +wrong to marry him," slowly said Mrs. Mynors. +</P> + +<P> +"She did?" he cried quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"She practically admitted that her marriage was a failure +as far as she was concerned. I will show you that bit +of the letter, though most of it is private. I have it here." +</P> + +<P> +Upon his eager assent she produced that letter from +Virginia, which Gaunt had intercepted, and read a paragraph +to him: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>... What I have done is wrong. I know that now. +I half knew it all the time. But what else was there +for me to do? I believe God knows I did it for the best. +I was at the end of my own strength; I was at the end of +all our money. I had you all dependent upon me, and +I knew I was going to break down.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>I felt I had to save you, and, Oh, mother, you can't, you +simply must not deny that I have done that!...</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors glanced at the young man's face. It +was set and hard. +</P> + +<P> +"You should have shown me that before. I think it +conclusive," said he. "Only a most unhappy woman +could have written so." He broke off with a catch in +his breath. "And to think that I had failed her, that +she was in those desperate straits and I never knew! +Oh, ye gods, how blind we are! But you see, don't you, +that the fact of my deserting her then makes it more incumbent +upon me to save her now, if I can? Mad or +sane, there can be no doubt that the brute must be desperately +jealous. We only want suspicious circumstances +and somebody who will be sure to mention them to him. +If I mistake not, Mr. Ferris is the very man for our purpose. +The fact that he himself admires Virgie to the +point of fatuity will give the necessary edge to his malice." +</P> + +<P> +"Have you heard from him? He is coming to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, that's all right," replied Gerald hastily. "No +more now; I hear her on the stairs." +</P> + +<P> +Virginia came in. Happiness and returning health +together had made her radiant. She wore to-day a pale +mauve frock, and a hat trimmed with a garland of mauve +and faint blue flowers. Like Mr. Bent on another occasion, +Gerald found himself distracted with the wonder +as to which of the two colours matched her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"What a day!" she said. "Oh, what a heavenly blue +day, isn't it? Have you come to breakfast, Gerald? +How nice!" +</P> + +<P> +"Gerald is afraid he may be obliged to go back to +town to-morrow," remarked her mother, as they sat down +to table. "He wants to have one good day's motoring for +the last, and as the driving does you so much good, I have +arranged to stay with Pansy and leave you free to go with +him." +</P> + +<P> +"Tony and I! Oh, how splendid!" cried Virgie, +sparkling. "I, too, must leave to-morrow, and I want +to have a really delightful day for the last." She broke +off a little abruptly, afraid lest what she said might be +by implication uncomplimentary to her husband. Both +her hearers remarked it, and they exchanged glances. +</P> + +<P> +They did not say that Tony would not be going. Instead, +Gerald produced a map from his pocket, and spread +it on a corner of the table. +</P> + +<P> +"I have more or less thought out a route," said he. +"I wonder if you will approve. There were two places +which you told me that you would particularly like to +see—one was Bodiam Castle. The other was the Roman +Pavement at Bignor. I have been talking to Baines (his +chauffeur), and he says it would be quite possible to do +both. It is a fifty-mile run to Bodiam—less than two +hours. We could lunch on the way back—say at Lewes—and +go on to Bignor, where we could have tea, and get +back any time we like." +</P> + +<P> +"How simply perfect!" laughed Virgie as she helped +herself to marmalade with an appetite which was so recent +an acquirement that she herself could not understand it. +Nobody present noticed it. Mrs. Mynors would never +have known had her daughter starved herself to death under +her eyes. Across the girl's mind stole the thought +of some one who had watched every mouthful, had hectored +and bullied her into eating. +</P> + +<P> +She leant across to Gerald, and perused the map with +attention. "What a way it seems! Bodiam is in the +very eastest corner of Sussex. And Bignor is more than +the whole way back—positively on the other side of +Worthing! Are you sure it won't be too far? I am so +afraid Pansy will miss me." +</P> + +<P> +"You forget," put in her mother, "Pansy is going to +have the first of her electric baths to-day, and nurse says +she will have to be very quiet for some hours after it. +Besides, it will accustom her to the idea of being without +you." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. That is true," was the reply, while a shadow +crept over the gladness of the face. +</P> + +<P> +"I expect Osbert is beginning to be restive, isn't he?" +asked her mother, in order to gauge the effect of a sudden +reference to Gaunt. +</P> + +<P> +The effect, as always, was a momentary confusion, slight +but evident. She soon rallied. "He is very patient," +she replied, while her thoughts went obstinately back to +the dream garden, veiled in mist, to the man who approached +her, groping blindly, to his words, "Are you +coming back? No!" +</P> + +<P> +"It seems wonderful that he <i>can</i> be patient under the +circumstances," observed Gerald drily. He did not pursue +the subject. He was folding up his map. "I told +the chauffeur to be round in exactly twenty minutes from +now. I must bolt, and do a change. Can you be ready +in twenty minutes?" +</P> + +<P> +She eagerly assented, and he caught up his hat and +ran out of the room, with a smile to her of glowing, eager +anticipation which set her heart dancing in response. +What a dear fellow he was! How good he had been to +them all! He had saved quite a lot of Gaunt's money by +taking them down to Worthing in the car. She did not +ask herself why it was terrible to take her husband's +money, but easy to take Gerald's. +</P> + +<P> +She ran away upstairs, calling to Tony. He appeared +from his room, got up in a striped flannel suit, a soft linen +collar, a most <i>recherché</i> tie, and a Panama hat—a real +one. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Tony, you have made yourself a swell!" cried +the girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Pretty decent, isn't it?" was the gratified reply. +"Left me any brekker?" +</P> + +<P> +"Plenty, but be quick, we have to start in twenty minutes." +</P> + +<P> +"Not me, sis. I'm going with Mullins Major to Arundel." +</P> + +<P> +"To Arundel! Oh, no, Tony, you are going with +Gerald and me in the car!" +</P> + +<P> +"Not much. This is heaps better. Good old Gerald +bought us the ticket—front places, and he has given me +half a sov. for our grub. Isn't he great?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Tony!" She stood back as the boy ran down +the stairs whistling gaily. "Did Gerald give you that +suit, too, and that overwhelmingly elegant hat?" +</P> + +<P> +"He did. Took me into the town the first day we +got here and rigged me out." +</P> + +<P> +Virgie burst out laughing. She was so glad that Tony +should be young—should put on a bit of "swank." +How dear of Gerald to be so good to him! +</P> + +<P> +Money makes life very easy. The thought turned her +grave once more. Am I mercenary? she asked herself. +Does love of money mean the desire to obtain good doctors +and nursing, to educate a boy well, to live cleanly +and keep out of debt? With a sigh she admitted that her +marriage had been mercenary. Yet how small a share +of life's good things would have prevented her from making +so hideous a mistake—a mistake which as yet she +had hardly begun to pay for. Oh, why, why, had Gerald +stepped aside and failed her at the critical moment? +</P> + +<P> +"If I had only had patience, if only I had waited," +she told herself, "it would have come right! He as good +as told me so that first night we dined together. I ought +to have refused to do what I knew to be wrong, and left +the consequences to God." +</P> + +<P> +She made herself ready for the drive, slipped into +Pansy's room, and to her relief found the child quite prepared +for her going. "Gerald told me yesterday that he +should take you," she said sedately. +</P> + +<P> +Gerald was then heard calling for Virgie, and with a +hasty kiss she ran off. Both the plotters heaved a sigh +of relief when they found she took Tony's defection in +good part. The boy came down from his half-eaten breakfast +to see them off, and the car spun away, up to Broadwater +and Sompting, and on along the northern slopes of +those magical South Downs, the love of which can never +fade from a Sussex heart. +</P> + +<P> +Virgie's heart sang as the sunny miles whizzed past. +She and Gerald were together, and who knew what might +come after? She caught herself wishing that an accident +might terminate the day, that she might be fatally injured, +and gasp out her life in Gerald's arms. Gaunt would be +legally compelled to continue the allowances to her family. +The idea fascinated her, so that at length, after a long +silence, she said to her companion: "Isn't there a piece +of poetry about two people riding together for the last +time? The man said he wished the world would end at +the end of the ride—do you know it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Can't say I do. I'm not much at poetry," he answered +apologetically, "but he was a wise chap if he +wanted to end off at the best bit. So you think we are in +like case?" he stooped to look into her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +She was shaken into remembrance, and stood on guard +in a moment. "Oh, no, of course not! What nonsense! +I was only thinking to myself in the silly way I sometimes +do." +</P> + +<P> +"Just so. For you the world is but just beginning. +You are returning to-morrow to the arms of the man who +loved you so devotedly that for the sake of calling you +his own he was ready to come to the rescue of your family. +For me the case is very, very different. I don't know who +could blame me if I wished that this day should end my +life." +</P> + +<P> +She laughed. "But that is really nonsense. You are +a man—you can go where you like and do as you like. +I must do as some one else wills all my life long." +</P> + +<P> +"You think that I can do as I like, Virgie?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course you can." +</P> + +<P> +"If I did, you would be distinctly surprised. I should +tell the chauffeur to change his course—or, rather, to +continue on, past Lewes, to Newhaven; and I should carry +you on board the first steamer that sailed, and we should +vanish across the sea and start life together in some +glorious new land, and you would be mine—all mine!" +</P> + +<P> +He spoke half banteringly, but very tenderly, and she +hardly knew how to take him. +</P> + +<P> +"As I am I, and as you are you, that is out of the +question, you know," he went on, almost in a whisper. +"You are not the girl to break your oath and I am not +the man to tempt you, even if I thought I could do it with +success. So all will go on as before. We shall be together +to-day and we shall part to-morrow; and for the +rest of my life I shall be fully occupied in resisting the +temptation to cut Gaunt's throat." +</P> + +<P> +Virgie decided that she was expected to laugh, and did +so, but very softly. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't talk like that," she begged him wistfully. "Let +us be quite happy, and think about Pansy, and how wonderful +it is that she should be getting well." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE ROMAN VILLA +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>When you and I behind the Veil are past,<BR> + Oh! but the long, long while the world shall last,<BR> + Which of our Coming and Departure heeds<BR> + As much as Ocean of a pebble cast.<BR> + One moment in Annihilation's Waste,<BR> + One moment of the Well of Life to taste—<BR> + The Stars are setting, and the Caravan<BR> + Draws to the dawn of nothing!—Oh, make haste!</i>"<BR> + <SPAN CLASS="scap">—Omar Khayyám.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The docility with which Gerald accepted the change of +subject was completely reassuring to Virginia. His words +led her to suppose that he imagined all to be well between +herself and her husband. She gave herself up to +fullest enjoyment of the fine weather, the swift motion, +the beautiful country. +</P> + +<P> +Bodiam Castle she found entrancing, and her fresh, +almost childlike interest in exploring it gave Gerald a +kind of pleasure hard to explain. Her unconsciousness +put him upon his honour; yet it was subtly alluring, too. +It urged him to find out what would happen if she could +be brought face to face with the truth about herself and +him. +</P> + +<P> +He found himself lost in contemplation of the curious +subtlety of her nature, as contrasted with its simplicity. +He knew, as it happened, that her marriage was most +unhappy. He doubted whether he could have discovered +as much without the information given him by her mother. +Her reserve was impenetrable. If she betrayed herself, +it was quite involuntarily, in some phrase which, to him +who knew, bore a tragic significance. "You are a man—you +can do as you like. I must do as some one else +wills, all my life long." +</P> + +<P> +This was as near as she had come, in words, to lifting +the veil so carefully dropped. He ranged her qualities +one against the other—her incapacity for flirtation, her +power of preserving a dignified secrecy. Artlessness combined +with prudence! It was another such apparent contradiction +which had mystified Gaunt—her hard toil and +ceaseless sacrifice, taken in conjunction with her regard +for appearances, her love of dainty raiment. As a matter +of fact, there was no contradiction. Innate pride and +refinement accounted for attributes which seemed to clash. +</P> + +<P> +The day's programme was carried through with much +success. They lunched at Lewes, and thence, hugging +the northern edge of the Downs, they passed to Steyning +and on through Storrington to Pulborough. Here they +had an early tea, being warned that no tea was obtainable +at Bignor; and went on, through the exquisite late +afternoon, along roads which grew to be what Virgie described +as "lanier and more laney." +</P> + +<P> +It was as they approached Bignor that Gerald said: +</P> + +<P> +"As soon as Baines has set us down he is going to run +the car into Chichester and back. I am expecting a man +down for a couple of nights from town, and I told him +to come to Chichester, because I thought we could pick +him up from thence more easily. Baines will run there +in no time—'tisn't more than twelve or fifteen miles each +way, and he can fill up his petrol-tank there. He'll be +back by the time we have done our sightseeing." +</P> + +<P> +"Bringing the man with him?" she asked, in evident +disappointment. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. By the way, it's a friend of yours—Mr. Ferris, +from Perley Hatch." +</P> + +<P> +"<i>What!</i>" cried Virgie, with so sharp an accent of +dislike that he was startled. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you like him? I thought they were friends +of yours—they spoke most warmly of you," he began +awkwardly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, his wife is all right, but he—do you know, Gerald, +I think he is odious," said she warmly. "It will just +spoil our day, having him with us! What a pity!" +</P> + +<P> +"Have I put my foot into it? You don't know how +sorry I am," said Gerald warmly. "I wouldn't have +done it for worlds; but I didn't like him to come down +and spend the evening alone in Worthing. I thought we +could dine at Pulborough, and go home at leisure by moonlight." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, promise me one thing—you won't sit in front +with Baines and leave me behind with him, will you?" +she begged. "I really couldn't bear that. You don't +know what an outsider he is." +</P> + +<P> +He was fervent in his protestations that she should +not be left to the society of the dashing Percy. He was +a good deal put out by her evident distaste of the whole +arrangement. He had never heard her speak so decidedly +about any one in her life as she expressed herself with +regard to Ferris. +</P> + +<P> +The talk was put a stop to by their arrival in the narrow +lane where a small finger-post announced: "This +way to the Roman Villa." +</P> + +<P> +They paused, alighted; Gerald put a wrap over his +arm for her, gave his final instructions to Baines, and the +car hurried on to the forge, where the width of the road +permitted it to turn and run back along the lane by which +they had come. +</P> + +<P> +"He will be out on the high road in two or three miles, +and then he can let her rip," said Gerald; "but he can't +be back for an hour, so we will take things easy." +</P> + +<P> +They leisurely ascended the grassy field which leads to +the carefully covered-in and precious pavements. +</P> + +<P> +Then for a while Virgie forgot everything in the delight +of examining this wonderful relic of a bygone civilisation. +The sweet-faced, elderly lady who is custodian +of the place, and speaks of it with reverence and fervour +which are infectious, warmed towards the beauty and enthusiasm +of this visitor. She showed her all that was +to be seen, and explained each small detail of plan and +execution. Virgie reconstructed in her own mind the +entire existence of the wealthy officials, exiled from all that +constituted their world, and cast away among these barbarian +British in a fold of the Sussex hills, far, as it +seemed, from all communication with their kind. Then, +pointing across the valley to the romantic swell of the +southern Downs, the custodian told how Stane Street, the +great Roman highway, had crossed the hills from Chichester, +just opposite where they stood. The Roman noble's +sentinels must have seen every figure, every horseman, +as he topped the rise, and have kept him in sight as he approached, +the whole way into the valley. All gone! +Even the semblance of the track wiped out! It would be +ten miles before Baines would strike the still surviving +section of the Roman road. +</P> + +<P> +The hour was nearly expired when they had seen all, +and they strolled away to find somewhere to sit down +until the car's return. Finally they sat upon the grass, +Gerald's raincoat under them, near the lane, and watched +the sunset fade from the sky. +</P> + +<P> +Gerald reverted to the coming of Ferris, and said how +sorry he was to have made so stupid a plan. Virgie +answered with impulsive penitence. She could not think +how she came to be so disagreeable about a trifle—when +he had given her this glorious day, and shown her such +grand things, when she owed all her pleasure to him. She +felt ashamed of herself. +</P> + +<P> +"I am so glad to have seen this," she said with unconscious +pathos. "It has done me good. The thought of +all that life and energy, here where even the memory has +passed away, the quiet to which it has gone back—the +disappearance of the great road, have brought home to +me what a little thing one human life is. We walk in +a vain shadow and disquiet ourselves in vain. I mean +suffering, and being what we call unhappy, matters so +little when you think how soon it will be over. That helps +one to bear things." +</P> + +<P> +Her eyes, misty with regret, were fixed upon the amphitheatre +of rolling downs and on the green, rabbit-run turf, +where once the busy highway swarmed with traffic. +</P> + +<P> +He leaned towards her and spoke softly. "Thank you, +dear, for trying to comfort me. I am trying to bear +things, as you put it—I truly am. Most particularly +because I know they are all my own fault. But I have +to own that your thought brings me very little comfort. +Here are you and here am I, alive and warm, wanting to +enjoy our little day. The knowledge that, five centuries +hence, nobody will ever have heard our names, does nothing +to still my craving." +</P> + +<P> +She looked at him dumbly, and her lip quivered. +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't surely mean—you can't have meant that +it is you—<i>you</i> who have to bear things?" he added in +a hurried, choky whisper. +</P> + +<P> +For the first time he saw panic in her eyes. She was +staring into his as though fascinated. He could almost +<i>see</i> the hasty clutch of her will upon her tongue, to prevent +her making any admission. "Nobody," she said, +almost inaudibly, "has more to bear than they deserve—more +than they can carry; but every one has something—something, +don't you think?" +</P> + +<P> +He mercilessly held her gaze. "If I were to tell you +what I think of you," he began; and she made a little +motion with her hand. +</P> + +<P> +"No, don't. Please don't. Because it really does +comfort me to feel that I am only a grain of sand upon +the shore of time, and that soon I shall be swept away. +Only one thing matters, and that is, to have done one's +best while one was here. Sometimes it seems hard, but +one has to go on, one has to keep on trying. Don't you +agree—oh, you must agree—that everybody has something +to bear?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think," he muttered savagely, "that you have always +been made to bear too much. All the burdens of +the whole family have rested on your little, tender shoulders. +It is time that you were freed——" +</P> + +<P> +"No," she cried quickly, sharply, "that is the one +thing I can never be! I have tied myself, and no human +power can release me now." +</P> + +<P> +Even as Gerald's blood leapt with the throb of triumph, +he realised how careful he must be not to let her see the +admission she had just made. The thing which he might +safely say sprang into his mind as by inspiration. +"There is such a thing as spiritual freedom, Virgie," he +softly murmured. "Don't forget that liberty is a thing +nobody can really take from you." +</P> + +<P> +She turned a radiant face to him, and broke into a +smile. "Oh, Gerald, how lovely! How fine of you to +say that! Yes, it is so. You are right. I shall remember +that always, and that it was you who said it." +</P> + +<P> +"Because I am your friend," he continued steadily, +knowing himself upon the right road. "Remember always +that I am your friend, and that I have a right to your +spiritual freedom. If ever you should be in trouble or +difficulty, you will think of our friendship, won't you? +Think of this perfect day, and how we have been together +in pure friendship and mutual confidence. You trust +me, don't you, Virgie?" +</P> + +<P> +"I should think so." She gave her hand, impulsively, +and as he held it—soft, warm, and ungloved—he wondered +how much more of this he could stand. She hesitated, +as if she wanted to say something, and dared not. +At last: "You don't want words, do you, Gerald? You +understand?" she faltered. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." The word was gulped. He lifted her hand, +kissed it, laid it upon her knee, and rose hurriedly. +Baines had been gone nearly two hours. +</P> + +<P> +"Something has delayed the car," he remarked, coming +back to her, watch in hand. "I wonder what we had +better do? It is getting late—you will want some dinner." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, I have had a very good tea," she answered +calmly, "but we shall be cold if we sit here much longer." +</P> + +<P> +He went into the lane and looked up and down. Then +he returned again. "I wonder if the kind old lady would +let you sit in her parlour while I go and reconnoitre?" he +suggested. "We might go off together somewhere and get +some dinner, while I station a sentry here to warn Baines +where to find us? I am afraid we are a good way from +anything in the way of food, but I may as well inquire." +</P> + +<P> +This was agreed upon, and Virgie settled herself in a +tiny parlour, full of furniture, while Gerald disappeared. +She kept her ears strained for the humming of the car, +but no such sound broke the pastoral silence of the remote +spot. She began to wonder what they really would do +should the car have broken down, for she knew that her +own powers of walking were very limited, in spite of her +immensely improved health. +</P> + +<P> +Half an hour passed slowly, and then Gerald returned. +</P> + +<P> +"There is apparently an inn of sorts at Dilvington, but +a very poor one. I suppose they could give some fried +ham and potatoes. That would be better than nothing, +wouldn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"How far is it?" +</P> + +<P> +He studied the map. "Inside a mile." +</P> + +<P> +"I think I can do that if we walk slowly." +</P> + +<P> +He looked taken aback. "I say! I forgot how little +you can walk!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I can walk a mile, but I could not do much +more." +</P> + +<P> +"No, by Jove, I suppose you could not. I hope I am +not going to knock you up. What an ass I was to trouble +about Ferris!" +</P> + +<P> +She smiled bravely, and said it would be all right. +The weather was lovely. Gerald laughed uncomfortably. +A flurry of rain was coming up slowly from the southwest, +across the heave of the downs. +</P> + +<P> +They left word at the custodian's house and also at the +forge, as to the direction they had taken, and walked +off towards Dilvington. +</P> + +<P> +Virgie came along quite bravely, but before they reached +the little roadside "public" the rain had begun to fall. +</P> + +<P> +Gerald ordered such food as the place afforded, and +they were taken into a small and stuffy parlour, with a +short, horsehair sofa, upon which the lady could rest. +</P> + +<P> +"By the time we have eaten something, the car is bound +to catch us up," he asserted cheerfully. +</P> + +<P> +The meal took long to prepare, and was, to say the +least of it, inadequate when it arrived. Hunger, however, +compelled them to eat, and almost to enjoy it. By the +time they had done, it was considerably later than Gerald +had foreseen. In Virgie's society time had a knack of +eluding him. With a hurried glance at his watch he +sprang up and went out to inquire about horses. +</P> + +<P> +He came back in a bustle. "They have only one horse, +and she has been out all day, and is tired." said he, "but +they think she can take us as far as Fittleworth, where we +can catch a train to Petworth at 9.20. We should be able +to hire a car there, and get back to Worthing or, if we +can't, there is a first rate inn at Petworth. No trains +later than about 9.30." +</P> + +<P> +"Wouldn't it be safer to wait here for our own car?" +she asked doubtfully, as she gazed at the steady rain. +</P> + +<P> +"Daren't risk it," he answered peremptorily. "If we +had to stay the night this place is impossible. I suppose +they can lend umbrellas, and you have a thick coat. They +are putting in the mare now." +</P> + +<P> +When the cart came round, it was found that there +was not an umbrella in the house. The September night +was cold, and the rain fell unrelentingly. They were very +uncomfortable, and there seemed nothing to say except +to wonder where Baines and the car could be. The road +seemed interminable, and, as the mare ambled along like +one moving in her sleep, Gerald began to betray signs +of desperate impatience. As they emerged from a rough +lane, upon a wider road, they heard a long, sad whistle +and the sound of a train. +</P> + +<P> +"I doubt ye've missed her," remarked the lad who +drove. +</P> + +<P> +"Impossible! Make haste!" cried Gerald with some +urgency. He ordered that the drowsy steed should be +whipped up, and she, indignant at such outrage when by +all the rules of the game she should have been sleeping in +her stable, made a wild spurt. +</P> + +<P> +A quarter of a mile brought them to the little lonely +station. +</P> + +<P> +All was still. The lights were out. The door, when +Gerald tried it, was shut. They had missed the last +train. +</P> + +<P> +When he came back to the side of the trap, and stood +looking up at her, Virginia perceived that he was terribly +vexed. Up to this moment he had maintained a composure +and cheerfulness which was reassuring. Now, he +was obviously nonplussed. +</P> + +<P> +In reply to questions, their driver said sullenly that +it was of no use to fetch the station-master. He had +gone home to bed. He couldn't make a train if there was +no train. Gerald shook his cap, from the edge of which +the water streamed, for the rain had become a downpour. +</P> + +<P> +"One gets out of the habit of calculating distance when +one is used to a car," he said to Virginia, in a voice which +was an odd blend of rage and apology. "They were such +a time bringing that food—we started too late. The only +thing now is to go on to Pulborough, I suppose." +</P> + +<P> +The lad intimated that this journey, if taken, would +be made upon their own feet. The mare could do no +more. She would just get home to her stable, and that +was all. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia could not offer to walk. She would not risk +over-exertion, with her return to Gaunt so near. She tried +to cheer Gerald with the reminder that, most likely, when +they returned to the inn at Dilvington, they would find +Baines and the car awaiting them. +</P> + +<P> +As he knew this to be impossible, the thought could not +console him. He climbed up at the back of the wet cart +thoroughly out of temper, muttering that a wooden horse +with three legs could have done two miles in three quarters +of an hour. +</P> + +<P> +Their discomfort was now far too great for further +conversation. The rain was pitiless, and the horse-cloth +over Virginia's knees, though thick, was not waterproof. +Her head ached, and she was very cold, though she endured +patiently, so as not to increase her companion's evidently +acute sense of the pass to which he had brought her. +</P> + +<P> +She felt a final lowering of her spirits when once more +the comfortless inn came into sight. Their host and +hostess were apparently no more pleased to see them than +were they to return. Nothing had been seen of the car, +and judging from their manner, these people did not seem +sure that it existed. It seemed, however, that they had +half anticipated the missing of the train. The only guest +bed in the house had been made up. Gerald somewhat +nervously explained to the woman that Mrs. Gaunt would +have this room, and he would pass the night on the horse-hair +sofa in the parlour. +</P> + +<P> +At first the reaction from cold and darkness was such +that they found it delightful to be seated by a fire, sipping +some abominable spirits and water. The circumstances, +however, were too deplorable for Virginia to be able to rally +her spirits. The cloak she wore was really a dust-coat, +and it had not kept out the rain. She could feel that she +was very wet, and was solely occupied with the consideration +of how long she ought, in politeness, to sit with Gerald, +and how soon she could go upstairs and take off her +uncomfortable clothing. +</P> + +<P> +Gerald stood, his foot on the fender, his brow contracted. +His state of mind was most unenviable. He +had formed this plan for the securing of Virginia's freedom; +and that they should spend the night out had seemed +a necessary part of the programme. +</P> + +<P> +But anything like this had been far from his thoughts. +How could he have been such an ass as to allow himself +to miss that train? Had they caught it, all would have +been well. He knew it was due at Petworth just late +enough to make it certain that they would miss the last +train. Then they would have been safe in the warmth +and comfort of a first-rate inn. The worst aspect of it +all was that to Virginia, to whom nothing could be explained, +he must seem merely a hopeless bungler, a person +unable to manage a simple expedition like this. +</P> + +<P> +"Need I say," he began, after a longish silence, "that +I am repenting in dust and ashes? I am so sorry for such +an atrocious muddle. What can I do to help you through +with it? Draw your chair close to the fire. Might I be +privileged to take off your shoes?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, thanks, I will do that when I get upstairs," said +Virginia wearily. "I don't feel inclined to sit up." +</P> + +<P> +"But the car may turn up at any moment," he urged, +hating himself for his deceit. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, so it may; we could get home then," she replied, +with a dawning of hope. "You see, I have to travel to-morrow; +it is so inconvenient for me to be detained, that is +why I am so grumpy!" +</P> + +<P> +He renewed his apologies, and she asked him to talk +about something else. He made a hesitating attempt to +revert to the key in which they had conversed at Bignor; +but obtained no response from her. At last, after another +long silence, he could bear it no longer, but went down +on his knees beside her, and cried impulsively: "Virgie, +you must forgive me! Don't be so unhappy, dear!" +</P> + +<P> +She had been lost in the mazes of her own thoughts, +which wandered always to Gaunt and her return to Omberleigh. +She turned to Rosenberg with a start, and said +hurriedly: "Oh, don't! What are you talking of? Get +up, those people might come in." +</P> + +<P> +The words were hasty, the tone so void of all warmth, +all friendliness, that it froze the genial current of his +soul into something like consternation. If the result of +his escapade was to be that Virgie took a dislike to him, +things were indeed hopeless. She rose, and picked up her +steaming shoes. +</P> + +<P> +"Good night! I am going upstairs to lie down. If +the car comes, you must call me." +</P> + +<P> +He made no objection at all, but held open the door in +silence. +</P> + +<P> +The ungracious woman, summoned from the kitchen +in the act of yawning prodigiously, ushered her into a +room as cold as a well, with a mingled perfume of pomatum +and apple-garret which turned her what Tony would +have described as "niffy." She took off her skirt, and +asked that it might be hung before the kitchen fire. She +could not, however, undress, since she had with her no +necessaries for the night, and the landlady volunteered no +assistance. +</P> + +<P> +She lay down in wretched discomfort, thinking that +Gerald downstairs, with a fire, had far the best of the bargain; +but she was determined not to go down to him. +Until the last quarter of an hour, though she was acutely +alive to the inconvenience of the situation, it had not +struck her as awkward. Now this aspect had presented +itself, and she felt a new mental disquiet which greatly +increased her physical suffering. In view of her late ill-health, +and the care which her husband had exercised +in order that she might recover completely, the accident +was most unfortunate. From that point of view, if from +no other, she felt certain of Gaunt's displeasure; and a +creeping terror, vague and formless, prevented her from +resting. She hardly slept until after dawn, when she +dropped into heavy sleep, only to wake, affrighted, about +seven with a sore throat and a burning forehead. +</P> + +<P> +She sat up, dizzy and sick. Yet if there was one thing +more certain than another, it was that she could not possibly +stay where she was. Somehow or other she must +get back to Worthing at once, even though she could not +stand upon her feet. +</P> + +<P> +She flung herself out of bed, animated with the strength +of desperation. Peering into the small, cracked mirror, +she was encouraged by finding that she did not look ill. +Her temperature was, as a matter of fact, 101, and her +colour was the flush of fever, but she did not know that. +</P> + +<P> +There was no bell in her wretched room, and she had +to call repeatedly before she could make anybody hear. +At last the woman appeared, and she begged soap, hot +water and a towel. After a long interval, an earthenware +jug, containing about a pint of liquid, was produced. +With this, and a tiny comb which she kept in her vanity +bag, she made what toilette she could. +</P> + +<P> +It was somewhat consoling to find a good fire burning, +and a cloth spread for breakfast, when she crawled downstairs, +stiff and aching. Gerald had gone out for news +of the car, and presently returned with milk, butter and +eggs, neither of which commodities seemed to be kept in +stock at the inn. He had found at Bignor a telegram +from Baines, announcing a bad breakdown, but saying he +hoped to be along at about 9.30. Gerald had left instructions +for him to come on straight to the inn at Dilvington; +and, with a great assumption of cheerfulness, hoped that +their troubles were over. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia hardly answered him. In spite of her desire +that he should not know how ill she felt, she found it +impossible to keep up appearances, and could not eat. +He attributed all to her sense of the unpleasant position +in which she found herself. He was acutely conscious +of the fact that the car, when it arrived, would bring +Ferris with it; and he now felt himself an unutterable +hound to have consented to such a plan. +</P> + +<P> +At a few minutes to ten, the welcome horn was heard. +The girl's eyes cleared a little, she rose, and eagerly put +on her hat and coat, filled with the one wish to be out of +the place and away. She was at the door when the motor +appeared; and as it came to a stop, she started and shrank +back with a momentary loss of self-control. She had +quite forgotten Ferris. +</P> + +<P> +Though he had plotted and arranged the moment, Gerald +was hatefully embarrassed now that it was upon him. +There was a knowing, confidential flavour about Ferris's +manner which was detestable. He seemed to be metaphorically +winking at Gerald, who believed he would have +done it actually, could he have caught his eye when Mrs. +Gaunt was not looking. +</P> + +<P> +To Virginia a new thought presented itself. Since +Ferris was here, and saw their plight—since he knew they +had been there all night—he would, of course, tell Gaunt. +This necessitated her telling her husband herself the +whole vexatious story—a feat of daring which it made +her head swim to contemplate. +</P> + +<P> +She hardly spoke to Ferris, but entered the car without +delay. +</P> + +<P> +Gerald did all he could. In view of what he knew her +opinion of Percy to be, he would not sit beside Baines, +but came inside with them; and was obliged to accommodate +himself on the small seat in front, doubled up with +his knees almost to his chin, unable to smoke, restless and +irritable. +</P> + +<P> +At first he was almost angry with Virginia. She might +buck up and help him to carry off these infernally awkward +moments. Her listless silence was the worst demeanour +she could possibly assume. As the miles passed, +he became aware that she was feeling physically ill, and +remorse made him frantic. +</P> + +<P> +Oh, damn the whole thing! He had done what he was +ashamed of, blundered unpardonably; and, as far as he +could see, he would gain nothing by it.... One idea gave +him some consolation. If Virginia were really ill—if +the doctor could be persuaded to keep her in bed for some +days—then Ferris would go back to Derbyshire with his +tale; and it was dimly possible that Virginia might never +return thither at all. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +TEMPTATION +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>I would not if I might<BR> + Rebuild my house of lies, wherein I joyed<BR> + One time to dwell: my soul shall walk in white<BR> + Cast down, but not destroyed.</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Christina Rossetti.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It may seem a curious thing that Mrs. Mynors, dependent +upon the bounty of Osbert Gaunt, should be so +ready to consent to a plan which, if successful, might once +more cast her penniless upon the world. She herself was +at a loss to understand the true meaning of the malice +which actuated her. In all her life she had hitherto never +known the strength of any passion. She was incapable of +deep love, of real suffering. Her maternal instinct was +not strongly developed, and selfishness had, up to now, +preserved her from anything more disturbing than temper +or discomfort. +</P> + +<P> +The first emotion of compelling force which had ever +gripped her was the desire for revenge, which took its +rise upon the day she went to meet her old lover at the +club, carefully adorned for conquest, and received from +him so unexpected a slap in the face. So unused was +she to be dominated by any overmastering emotion that +she was being run away with; and now and then by fits +and starts she saw with dismay that this was so. She +reassured herself however. Like most women who have +always been attractive to the male, she overrated her own +powers. She believed that Gerald Rosenberg was her +slave. As a son-in-law he would be quite ideal, and unable +to refuse her anything. She could not deny Gaunt's +generosity; but he, although spending large sums when +he believed it necessary, was severe upon luxury; he hated +the wasting of pence; whereas Gerald was always giving +presents of the kind she welcomed and understood—cut +flowers, places at the theatre, pretty trifles—to her, to +Tony, to Pansy, even to Virginia. She was convinced +that her influence was paramount with Gerald, and, if with +him, then with his father also. +</P> + +<P> +After all, he was the only son; the old man could not +afford to be implacable. Socially, her daughter was more +than his equal. Her superficial mind glossed over such +ugly facts as divorce. Everybody did such things nowadays, +and everybody could be told the true story of this +particular case. Gerald and Virginia were blameless; +the mistake had been in the hasty, ill-considered marriage; +Gaunt would have to own himself beaten. She sometimes +pictured an interview between herself and Gaunt, wherein +she would nobly repudiate his gross insinuations, and +speak beautifully of her daughter's angelic innocence. +</P> + +<P> +Seldom had she been more gratified by anything than +by the task which fell to her of writing to "dear Osbert" +to explain that Virginia had caught a chill, and would +not be able to travel for some days. She used the term +"days," much as she longed to write "weeks"; for there +was one possibility which she kept ever before her eyes, +and that was the fear lest Gaunt should lose patience, +and come to Worthing himself. +</P> + +<P> +Virgie's feverish attack suited her plan so well that +she could not blame Gerald for his carelessness, though +she privately thought he had badly mismanaged things. +</P> + +<P> +Virgie indeed was feeling downright ill, and had such +a splitting headache that, upon hearing that Gaunt was +duly informed of her illness, she abandoned the effort +of writing to him herself, and merely lay still, feeling in +every aching bone the relief of a few days' respite before +taking the final step. +</P> + +<P> +Grover received her in a state of queer agitation, and +was half inclined to pet and pity, half to blame. The +good woman had been very uncertain in her moods ever +since they came to Worthing. Her heart was jealous for +the lonely man in Derbyshire. She saw well enough what +were Mr. Rosenberg's feelings, and she felt convinced that +Mrs. Mynors was also well aware of them. She was indignant +that the pretty woman, whom she cordially hated, +should allow such freedom of intercourse. +</P> + +<P> +When the couple failed to return, or even to telegraph, +the previous night, Grover had gone through some awful +moments. The thought "They're off!" flashed through +her mind, in spite of her real attachment to her young +mistress. She was so relieved when they returned that, +like many people in like case, she felt she must scold a +little. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't tell me! England's a place where there's railway +stations and where there's telegraph offices," said she +severely. "If the last train had gone before you got to +the station, I suppose there was a village near, and where +there's a village, there's a telegraph. The young man +could have knocked up the postmaster, couldn't he?" +</P> + +<P> +"I dare say; I never thought of that. I was so sure +we should find the motor when we got back to the inn. +Oh, it was such a horrid place, Grover, and so uncomfortable. +The woman was so disagreeable, and seemed +never to have heard of anybody wanting hot water to +wash with!" +</P> + +<P> +"Serve you right, I'd say, that I would, if it wasn't +for your being so poorly. After all the care the master +took of you! After his standing to one side and denying +himself even the sight of your face, so as you should +get well quicker. If he was to see the way you carry on +here among them all! At everybody's beck and call! +Fetch and carry, first here, then there. Fine and pleased +he'd be, wouldn't he?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Grover, but I have been so well until this happened! +And how could I help it? Here are you, cross +old thing, scolding me in the same breath, first for taking +a chill, and then because I didn't stay pottering out in +the rain still longer, hunting for a telegraph office. The +horse was dead beat; she couldn't go any farther." +</P> + +<P> +"If I could box Mr. Rosenberg's ears, I'd do it with +pleasure," was Grover's vindictive reply, somewhat qualified +by the extreme tenderness with which she handled the +culprit, undressing, tending, soothing her, and laying her +down among her pillows to rest. +</P> + +<P> +"Men don't think of things," murmured Virgie weakly, +feeling bound to excuse Gerald. +</P> + +<P> +"There's one that does," was the immediate retort. +"One that has never had anything to do with ladies, all +the time I've known him, till now, but has shown more +true consideration than any one of these young fancy men, +thinking of nothing but their own pleasure." +</P> + +<P> +Virgie coloured painfully and was silent. This subject +was taboo between mistress and maid. Grover could +not but know that Virginia was in mortal fear of her +husband, and the good woman regretted the man's awkward +shyness, which prevented him, as she thought, from +making headway. Her mind was filled with keen anxiety +lest all the hopes entertained by the household at Omberleigh +should be brought to naught by this unnatural separation +of the newly wed. +</P> + +<P> +No more was said; and later in the day the maid bitterly +regretted having said even so much, for Mrs. Gaunt's +fever mounted, and by the night she was delirious. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +It seemed to the patient a long time afterwards, though +in reality not more than forty-eight hours, when she awoke +from a sound sleep, and, glancing round, found the curtains +drawn, excluding the sunshine, and her mother +seated by her bed. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors looked up with an angelic smile when +the sleeper stirred, rose and came to the bedside, stooping +over her with a look of pity and sympathy. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, how long have I slept?" said Virginia, sitting +up and rubbing her eyes. "Where's Grover, mamma? I +must get up and be off. I am going back to Omberleigh +to-day." +</P> + +<P> +"Not to-day, my sweetest," was the murmured reply. +"The doctor would not allow that." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but Osbert is expecting me; he will be vexed." +She put her hand to her head. +</P> + +<P> +"Lie down, darling; you must not exert yourself. You +are weak. Osbert knows. It is all right." +</P> + +<P> +Virginia, conscious of a swimming in her head, though +the pain was gone, subsided upon her pillows. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, mamma, how tiresome! How very tiresome!" +she faltered. "I have been away so long; I must go +back!" +</P> + +<P> +"My dearest, my most precious child, don't grieve yourself! +It is all right! You are with those that love you, +and will take care of you," was the cooing answer. +"There is no need for fear, my Virgie." +</P> + +<P> +"It isn't fear. It is breaking my word," stammered +the girl, knowing that her words sounded like nonsense, +but feeling explanation too difficult. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors, without speaking, brought her a cup of +strong broth which was keeping warm over a little lamp. +</P> + +<P> +"I have sent that poor, good Grover out for a walk," +said she. "She is not as young as she was, and the nursing +has tired her. But I had another reason for sending +her away when you should wake. I wanted to be alone +with you." +</P> + +<P> +She did not say this until the soup had been drunk, and +Virginia felt refreshed. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, mamma?" +</P> + +<P> +Her mother sank to her knees beside the bed, holding +her hand. "My darling," said she, half sobbing, "there +is no more need for concealment between your mother +and you. When you were delirious I sat beside you—I +had to listen to what you said—and I know—I know +your pitiful secret." +</P> + +<P> +There was a long, deep silence. At last Virginia spoke. +</P> + +<P> +"Mother, tell me what you mean. What do you +know?" +</P> + +<P> +"I know that Osbert has been cruel to you. I know +that you go in fear of his cruelty," came the whispered +answer. +</P> + +<P> +There was another silence. "Well, mamma, if that +were true? I do not say it is true, but if it were, what +then?" +</P> + +<P> +"What then? Why, Virgie, then you must be rescued +from him. He must be a madman if he could ill-treat +you, and the law will protect you against him." +</P> + +<P> +For a moment the eyes of the girl in the bed lit up +with a flaming hope. For a moment she turned to her +mother with a rush of eager, palpitating confidence. +Then a new look crossed her face, which grew composed +and firm. Her voice was not sad, but steady as she replied: +"I have sworn." +</P> + +<P> +"Sworn, Virgie? Darling, what do you mean by +that?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have sworn to love him," was the answer. "I am +his wife." +</P> + +<P> +"But, Virginia, if he has failed to keep his oath?" +</P> + +<P> +"You think that absolves me from keeping mine?" +There was a faint smile on the girl's lips, and her mother +thought, as she so often did, that she never as long as she +lived should understand her daughter. +</P> + +<P> +"But, of course, dear, you are under no obligation to +endure cruelty. The law——" +</P> + +<P> +Virginia raised herself upon her elbow. "I <i>am</i> under +an obligation to endure it," she replied. "I have sworn +to love him, and while he wishes me to be with him, I +shall be with him. He has done all he undertook to do. +He has done more. He has not only given you comfort +and security, not only provided funds for this marvellous +cure of Pansy's; he has let me come to you, and stay all +this time, because he trusted me. He knew I should go +back, because I have promised to do so. I am going +back." +</P> + +<P> +"Dear one, we will not argue," was the gentle response +after a pause, during which the elder lady decided to +change her tactics. "You are weak as yet, and must rest +and grow strong. Thank God you need not decide at +once, since the doctor would most certainly not sanction +your travelling at present. I only touched upon this +painful subject, because I wanted you to know that, without +any treachery to Osbert, you have inadvertently allowed +me to know how things stand between you and him, +so there is no need for further concealment. You may +rest safely in the knowledge that you have loving guardians +who will not let you suffer from the caprice of a perverted +mind." +</P> + +<P> +"How long have I been ill?" asked Virginia, after +a pause. +</P> + +<P> +"This is Monday. You got home on Friday." +</P> + +<P> +After a few minutes' silence, the invalid asked in her +usual tones for news of Pansy and Tony. Pansy was +wonderfully well. The air of Worthing was doing for +her even more than the doctors expected. It was at the +request of Dr. Danby that they had come to Worthing. +He had a friend in practice there, in whose skill and +kindness he had the utmost confidence. Pansy adored her +new doctor, and the electric baths were proving a great +success. Tony was out a great deal with his friend Mullins. +Gerald had gone to town, but was coming down on +Wednesday. +</P> + +<P> +A tap on the door announced the doctor's visit. He +was pleased to find the patient so much improved. +</P> + +<P> +"When shall I be able to travel?" she asked him. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, some time next week, I hope," he answered comfortably. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors looked triumphant. She went out of the +room with the doctor, and Virginia was left to her own +reflections. +</P> + +<P> +"<i>The caprice of a perverted mind!</i>" That phrase +stuck in her head. It seemed to her that it did just exactly +describe Gaunt's conduct. It is possible, however, +that a perverted mind may be put right again, if it encounters +some agency sufficiently powerful. When she +was in town Dr. Danby had spoken to her of her husband. +</P> + +<P> +"He was one of the most interesting boys I ever saw," +had been his verdict. "I was very sorry for him. He +was thoroughly mishandled, misunderstood, by the old +ladies, his great-aunts, who were all the kith and kin he +had." +</P> + +<P> +(I can believe anything of them. They put the Chippendale +in the attic, and furnished their dining-room in +horsehair and mahogany, had been Virginia's inward +comment.) +</P> + +<P> +"I saw him several times during his university period. +The authorities there thought as highly of him as I did. +Then came the <i>débâcle</i>. Some girl, upon whom he fixed +all his heart, failed him. He could not stand it. The +weak spot in his nature was touched—his fatal tendency +to concentrate violently upon one object. He went all +to pieces for a while—dashed off abroad—and I lost +touch with him." +</P> + +<P> +It seemed to the girl, who revolved this information in +her mind, that her own duty lay clear. If she could but +overcome his prejudice, his perverted idea of her, might +she not do something after all towards making him +happy? +</P> + +<P> +Mims had once praised her for her inveterate habit of +doing her duty. Easy enough had duty been when it was +a case of Pansy and Tony. Now because duty was formidable +and difficult, was she to shrink from it? She +covered her face with her hands, she stopped her ears +against an imaginary voice. She would go back—she +must go back. +</P> + +<P> +But if Gerald joined in the argument, would she be able +to resist? +</P> + +<P> +Well she knew her mother, and she was positive that, +being on such terms of confidence as she had lately established +with young Rosenberg, she would tell him what she +had inadvertently learned, of the true inwardness of Virginia's +marriage. At the mere thought the girl writhed. +</P> + +<P> +She was going back, whatever they said, whatever they +did. She must and would go back, in fulfilment of her +promise. Yet her mind was racked with the conflict. If +she went back, if she entered the Beast's den a second +time, it was final. Suppose the worst were to prove true? +Suppose that nothing she could do would disarm Gaunt, +that he persisted in his hate, that he took delight in +thwarting her, bullying her, frightening her? How vilely +so ever he used her, <i>still she would have to be his wife.</i> +He would shut her up in captivity, keep her from those +she loved—and yet she would have to be his wife! +</P> + +<P> +Could she bear it? +</P> + +<P> +She remembered her own boast: "You can cut me to +pieces with a knife if you choose, when I come back. +Anything, if you will let me go to Pansy!" +</P> + +<P> +Well, he had let her go. He had performed that, as +he had performed his half of all points in the bargain +between them. She, so far, had performed nothing at all. +She had spent his money freely, and had lived away from +him. Was her wild promise nothing but an empty boast, +after all? Was she content to take these favours she had +wrung from him, but to refuse to pay when pay-day came +round? +</P> + +<P> +All at once she knew that her mind was made up. She +was going back. +</P> + +<P> +She bounded out of bed, but soon found, when standing +up, that she was far from fit to travel that day. She +succeeded, however, in finding a writing block and a +pencil, and returning to bed wrote a hasty line to Gaunt. +In it she said only that she had had a tiresome chill, but +that she was almost well, and intended to reach home +without fail on Wednesday. +</P> + +<P> +Her mother returned to the room just as she had sealed +and stamped the letter. +</P> + +<P> +"Good child!" said she, smiling, "I was just about to +suggest that you should send Osbert a line to keep him +quiet. You have told him what the doctor said, about +hoping that you could travel next week?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have told him I cannot travel to-day," replied Virginia; +and Mrs. Mynors carried off the letter to post. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +ESCAPE +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>But next day passed, and next day yet<BR> + With still some cause to wait one day more.</i>"<BR> + <SPAN CLASS="scap">—Robert Browning.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +When Grover presently entered her room with lunch, +Virginia was quick to perceive an estrangement. The +woman's face was set in stern lines, and her eyes were cast +down, except at such moments as she fancied that Virginia +was not looking, when she sent furtive, searching +glances at the wistful face upon the pillow. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia wondered what had happened, But felt too +languid to inquire, dreading that some kind of a scene +might follow. By degrees she gathered, more from hint +than direct speech, that the main grievance was being +turned out of the room during the two nights of delirium. +</P> + +<P> +After what her mother had just revealed, of her unconscious +ravings, she could not but be thankful that +Grover had not heard them. She did not know of the +short dialogue which took place between the two deadly +enemies, outside her door that morning. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors had arisen from the sofa and gone out +to speak to Grover, who was in waiting outside with the +early tea for her mistress, Virginia being still asleep. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope Mrs. Gaunt's better, ma'am?" Grover asked, +with prim frigidity. +</P> + +<P> +"Better? Poor unhappy child! It might be better +for her perhaps if there were no chance of her recovery," +was the unlooked-for reply, delivered with exaggerated +emphasis. +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed, ma'am?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, indeed, and indeed! God help her, poor innocent +lamb! You need not think to keep anything dark +in future, you and your wretched master! In her delirium +the unhappy creature has let out everything. And +you—you must have known! You who came here with +her as his spy! Mounting guard over her night and day, +lest she should let her people know of his diabolical cruelty. +I have outwitted you, and now I know everything. +I shall find means to protect my injured child!" +</P> + +<P> +"I have no idea what you mean, ma'am," replied +Grover, inflexibly respectful. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, of course not! You may as well drop the +mask. I know you, and I know him," was the instant +retort, as Mrs. Mynors, in her elegant wrapper, disappeared +into her own room. +</P> + +<P> +Grover went about all that day racking her brains as to +what she ought to do. She was quite confident that she +had been turned out of the room in order that these revelations—in +which she did not believe—might be made, +or be said to have been made. They were part, she was +sure, of some plot or scheme which was being hatched. +Ought she to write to Mr. Gaunt, and tell him that she +thought he had better come to Worthing and take his wife +home? She was a slow-witted, but very sensible woman, +and she feared that, should she take such a course, Gaunt +might fear that things were more serious than they actually +were. Yet she distrusted Mrs. Mynors profoundly, +and watched her as closely as she could. She overheard +her say to the doctor, outside Virginia's room: +</P> + +<P> +"She ought to be kept very quiet; her nerves are all +wrong. Mind you make her stay in bed as long as you +can. Don't let her think of travelling till next week at the +soonest." +</P> + +<P> +She also saw her come out of the sick-room with the +letter just written by Virginia to Gaunt in her hand. She +carried it into her own room, and something in the way +she looked at it produced in Grover an overpowering impression +that she did not mean to forward it. +</P> + +<P> +With a determination to ascertain, the woman knocked +at the door some minutes later, and was sure she heard +the rustle of paper and the hasty closing of a drawer +before Mrs. Mynors told her to come in. +</P> + +<P> +"Beg pardon, ma'am, but should I take Mrs. Gaunt's +letter to post? It's almost time." +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks, I have just sent it off." +</P> + +<P> +This made the servant certain that her suspicion was +correct. She went slowly into Virginia's room, more and +more perplexed as to what she ought to do, and wondering +what were her mistress's own feelings in the matter. +Since the Bignor episode, she had been so shaken in her +faith in Virginia that she was half ready to believe that +it was a case of like mother, like daughter, and that the +dainty butterfly would never return to gloomy Omberleigh. +The idea filled her with resentment. "His +fault," she muttered to herself. "Such a place, enough +to give you a fit of the blues, dirty and dull and drab; he +ought to have had it all done up for her—make her think +that he wanted to please her! He don't know enough to +go indoors when it rains, not where a woman's concerned, +that's very certain. But, oh, gracious goodness, what will +happen to him if she turns out a light one? It's my belief +he'd never stand it. He'd go mad or cut his +throat." +</P> + +<P> +Gloomily she ran ribbons into under-linen, made the +bed, and went about her usual sick-room duties. All the +time she was wondering whether she could not "say something." +The difficulty lay in thinking what to say. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia was very quiet—unusually so. When Grover +had gone out, she locked the door, put on a dressing-gown, +and sat up by the fire. She found herself stronger +than she had thought. Her fever having passed, she was +all right. She was certain that there was no reason why +she should not travel on Wednesday; but she determined +to say nothing about it to her mother. +</P> + +<P> +When next Mrs. Mynors came in to see her, she was +lying with eyes half closed, and whispered that she felt +very weak, and was not equal to talking. This was satisfactory, +and the visitor crept away. +</P> + +<P> +Next morning the girl, with the elasticity of youth, +awoke feeling very much better. Grover could not but +remark it. Yet, when her mother came in, she was languid +and monosyllabic. +</P> + +<P> +She could not, however, escape a renewal of the bombardment +of yesterday, with regard to her return to Omberleigh. +Mrs. Mynors brought in her work after lunch, +and attacked the subject with determination. She was +met with a meekness which surprised her. Virginia +owned that she was at present too unwell to face anything +difficult—to undergo any trying experience. Next +week it would be different. She thought they might postpone +serious discussion. The wind was somewhat taken +out of her opponent's sails, but there was no doubt this +depression and invalidism was satisfactory in her eyes. +She made, as she thought, quite certain that her daughter +had no intention of travelling at present. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sure Osbert does not expect me. He has not +written at all. He is waiting to hear again, I suppose." +</P> + +<P> +"Not written! When I told him how ill you are! +Oh, Virgie, what a brute the man is!" +</P> + +<P> +The speaker omitted to mention that in her letter to her +son-in-law she had begged him not to write to Virgie, +as his letters "agitated her unaccountably," and that she +herself had heard from him that morning to the effect +that he hoped a doctor had been called in. +</P> + +<P> +She went away after a while, and wrote to Gerald in +town. +</P> + +<P> +"I think there is no doubt she is growing to see that +we are right," she wrote. "I am letting her come along +at her own pace. The discovery that we know her secret +has shaken her, and she has at least given up all idea of +travelling at present. That being so, I shall run up to +town to-morrow morning, as there are several things I +must do. You and I can return here together in the +evening. I will come up by the early express, and if +you were to take tickets for the matinée at the Criterion, +I should not object. One gets so bored here with invalids +all day." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +That night when Grover came into the room to make the +final arrangements, she found Mrs. Mynors there, in the +act of saying good night to a limp and disconsolate daughter. +</P> + +<P> +"I am running up to town on business by the 8:4 to-morrow, +Grover," said she, turning round with that alarming +sweetness which convinced the hearer that some demand +upon her good-nature would be immediately made. +"I wonder whether, while you are making Mrs. Gaunt's +tea to-morrow morning, you would bring me a cup; these +lodging-house people are so disagreeable about a little +thing like that! Bring it at seven o'clock sharp, if you +would be so kind." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well, mum," replied Grover in her gruffest +tones, which were very gruff indeed. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye, my precious; rest well," murmured the +lady, bending over the bed. "We shall cheer up when +Gerald comes back, and if you are very good I will beg +the doctor to let you get up on Thursday." +</P> + +<P> +"If I feel well enough," sighed Virginia, closing her +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Grover felt all her distrust reviving. She was certain +that Virgie was feeling almost completely recovered. +Was there anything up? Some plot? Had young +Rosenberg planned for the mother to be away in town +while he came down here and carried off Virginia in his +car? +</P> + +<P> +She turned from the closing of the door upon Mrs. +Mynors' exit, with a very grim mouth. The patient was +sitting bolt upright in bed, with an expression so changed, +so alert, that she paused just where she stood, in amazement. +</P> + +<P> +"Grover," panted the girl, in a shaken, excited voice, +"come here; I want to speak to you." +</P> + +<P> +Grover approached, slowly and doubtfully, suspicion +written all over her. When she was quite near, Virginia +drew her down so that she sat upon the bed, and put +her arms round her, laying her head upon a singularly +unresponsive bosom. +</P> + +<P> +"Grover, I want you to help me," she whispered. "I +am going to do something desperate—something secret—and +I can't do it unless you stand by me." +</P> + +<P> +The woman paused. She was angry with herself for +being influenced, as influenced she undoubtedly was, by +the clinging arms, and the nestling golden head. "Now, +what have you got in your head, ma'am?" she asked, as +coldly as she could. She almost jumped when she heard +the reply. +</P> + +<P> +"<i>I want you to help me run away.</i>" +</P> + +<P> +"Never!" Putting aside the girlish embrace, she rose +to her feet, her homely face stern and reproachful. +"Never! Not while I'm in his service! He may have +scared you, as your mother tells me he has, but if so, you +should have known better. It's only because you know +so little of him, and he so unused to women. Oh, my +dear, my dear, I don't suppose for a minute you'll listen +to me, but I must say it! You go back, my dear, and do +your duty! Your place is there, with him! You chose +him, and it's God's law that you should cleave to him, +though I have no right to be talking like this, ma'am, but +if it was the last word I ever said——" +</P> + +<P> +"Grover, Grover," cried Virginia, grasping a solid +arm and shaking it, "what on earth are you talking about? +Isn't that just what I want you to do? To take me back +to Omberleigh? What did you think I meant?" +</P> + +<P> +Grover's face was a study. It was as though layer +after layer of gloom and apprehension passed from its +surface. +</P> + +<P> +"That what you mean? Run away <i>home</i>?" she +panted. +</P> + +<P> +"To Omberleigh, yes." She could not bring her lips +to utter the word <i>home</i>, but Grover did not remark such +a detail, though Gaunt had noted it fast enough in the +letter she wrote him the previous week. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know whether it is that my chill has made +me a little mad," whispered Virgie, "but I feel as if I +am in prison. I feel as if they had made up their minds +that I should not go back, and you know I must. I have +overstayed my time already." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, ma'am, if that's what you want, to go back +where you belong, you shall go, though an army stood +in the way," cried Grover, with such goodwill that Virgie +flung her arms round her again, this time to meet with +a warm response. Then she slid out of bed, and stood, +her arms outstretched, making graceful motions to show +that she was strong and vigorous. +</P> + +<P> +"I am a horrid little cheat," she said, smiling. "I +am afraid I tried to make mother think I was feeling +very bad, so that she might not be afraid to go off by the +early train and leave me! Grover, I have looked up all +the trains. You must pack to-night, and we can get to +town by one o'clock. We must go straight through; there +is a train with a dining-car, getting us to Derby at 6:34, +and we can wire for the car to meet us. I hope I am not +being very silly, but it seems to me the only way to get +free of it all. Another thing is the parting from Pansy. +I shall go without saying anything at all to her, and leave +a letter for her. She is so happy here, she will not really +miss me, and it will save her a bad fit of crying if I slip +away. Me, too, for that matter," she added, colouring. +"I can't help feeling the parting, you know, Grover." +</P> + +<P> +"That I well believe, ma'am, but it is for a time. +She is doing so nicely that she will be able to come to +Omberleigh before long, and think how she will enjoy +lying on the terrace and playing with Cosmo and Damian." +</P> + +<P> +Virgie had to laugh, though a pang shot through her +heart. Little did this good, loyal Grover know the dreadful +truth! +</P> + +<P> +At the thought of the malice that awaited her, the unknown +suffering in store, she flinched, and for a moment +felt faint. Then she rallied. +</P> + +<P> +This precipitate flight was, she knew, her only chance +of preserving her self-respect. When Gerald returned, it +would all be different somehow. Now, before she had +time to think, she must make her dash for duty. What +she had said in her delirium she knew not; but she knew +well enough that, during those confidential moments, +seated in the field below the Roman Villa, she had admitted +her marital unhappiness, and that Gerald had understood. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't understand one thing," she said, as she lay +watching Grover draw out her trunk, open it, and begin +her packing methodically. "And that is, why Mr. Gaunt +has not written to me since I took my chill." +</P> + +<P> +"I think I can tell you, ma'am. It is because your +letters to him have been stopped." +</P> + +<P> +"Grover!" +</P> + +<P> +"If, when we get home, ma'am, you find that he has +had the letter you wrote this afternoon, why, I'll beg your +mamma's pardon for what I have said. But I am sure +she opened it, and I don't believe she ever sent it to post. +Another thing, ma'am. Muriel (the lodging-house maid) +told me that Mrs. Mynors had a letter with the Manton +postmark yesterday. Why didn't she tell you she had +heard?" +</P> + +<P> +"I thought it so strange he did not write," said Virgie, +knitting puzzled brows. "But, Grover, they have +no right to do such things! Even if mamma thinks, as +she seems to think, that he—Mr. Gaunt—is not—I +mean, if she does not like him, and does not want me to go +away, she has no right to tamper with letters, do you +think?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's not for me, ma'am, to pass any remarks upon +what your mamma does. But I think it is for me to let +you know she done it," replied Grover, with demure emphasis. +Virgie could not help smiling, in spite of her +tumultuous emotions. +</P> + +<P> +Grover proved a most able accomplice and conspirator. +She duly brought tea to Mrs. Mynors next morning, and +said, in subdued tones, that Mrs. Gaunt had not passed a +very good night. She was now sleeping, and had better +not be disturbed. Would Mrs. Mynors mind slipping +downstairs without coming into her room? +</P> + +<P> +This had the desired effect. The elder Virginia departed +for her little jaunt to town—travelling by the +first-class-only express—with a perfectly serene mind. +Virginia the younger was, she felt convinced, wholly contented +with her bed for that day. Grover meanwhile +completed her preparations with the utmost composure. +She went down, paid the landlady, and explained to +her that Mrs. Gaunt was called home unexpectedly, and +wanted to slip away without distressing the little lady. +</P> + +<P> +Noiselessly the trunks were carried downstairs, noiselessly +though, with beating heart, Virginia followed. It +was not until Worthing was left behind; not, indeed, +until they had passed, safe and unrecognised, through +London, that she could relax the tension of her will. +</P> + +<P> +Now the die was cast. She had chosen. She was +doing what she firmly believed to be right. Once before, +when in straits, she had taken a way out which seemed +the only way, but which she yet knew to be unworthy of +her. Now she was blindly doing the hard thing because +it was the right thing. The consequences were not in her +hands. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap25"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE RETURN +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>With all my will, but much against my heart,<BR> + We two now part.<BR> + My very Dear,<BR> + Our solace is, the sad road lies so clear.<BR> + It needs no art,<BR> + With faint, averted feet, and many a tear,<BR> + In our opposed paths to persevere.<BR> + Go thou to East, I West, we will not say<BR> + There's any hope, it is so far away.</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Coventry Patmore.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The rain which had so interfered with Rosenberg's +plans, and spoiled the close of the motoring day, seemed +to mark also the end of summer. The weather ever since +had been grey and autumnal. In Derbyshire the change +was more marked than in Sussex. A wild wind moaned +in the black pines of Omberleigh, and brown leaves drifted +upon the blast as Gaunt rode forth to Sessions that +Wednesday morning. +</P> + +<P> +His mood was one not only of depression, but of anxiety. +He hardly realised how much he had built upon +Virginia's cheering accounts of her own restored health, +until he received his mother-in-law's feline epistle, telling +him of a severe chill and consequent fever. The wording +was careful, even clever, but she had conveyed with +full force the impression that she meant to convey, which +was that the fever and delirium were more the result of +distress of mind than of the actual chill—that the prospect +of returning to her loveless marriage and gloomy +home were working untold harm to the patient, and hindering +recovery. +</P> + +<P> +Since the receipt of this most disquieting letter, no +word from Worthing had reached him. Morning after +morning the empty postbag mocked him. To-day he was +making up his mind that if he held to his resolution, and +remained silent—if he adhered to his foolhardy determination +to prove his wife to the uttermost—he would +lose her altogether. +</P> + +<P> +He still told himself that she would do her duty at all +costs. He was, however, beginning to perceive that the +strength of influence now being brought to bear might succeed +in persuading her that to return to him was <i>not</i> her +duty. After all—in view of what he had made her bear—could +he say that he thought it was her duty? +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors spoke as though the illness were serious. +He knew she was a liar; he knew she wished to hurt him. +Yet, after all, it might be true. He had dwelt such a blow +at Virgie's tenderest feelings as might well shock a sensitive +girl into real illness. Neither had he done anything, +since they parted, to allay her fears. He had not +so much as suggested the change of heart which awaited +her. As the date of her return drew near—as she contemplated +the renewal of her martyrdom—her flesh +might well shrink from the demand made upon it by the +dauntless spirit. +</P> + +<P> +Violently though he struggled against indulging hope, +it had all the same risen insurgent when he got Virginia's +letter fixing Saturday as the date of her return. He had +lain sleepless most of Friday night, planning what he +could do, or say, when they met at the railway station; +living over again his drive at her side, through the summer +dusk, on the night of her departure when she had +been, in her absorption, hardly conscious of his presence. +He wondered whether he could break through the tongue-tied +gloom which held him like an evil spell, and let her +see something—not too much at first—of what he felt. +</P> + +<P> +His mortification when he received his mother-in-law's +wounding letter had been proportionately great. The intensity +of his feeling surprised and half frightened him. +</P> + +<P> +Since that dark moment—silence. +</P> + +<P> +He rode into town in a mood which alternated between +something which was a colourable imitation of despair +and a haunting notion that perhaps some letter or telegram +might be awaiting him when he returned home in +the evening. There was much business to transact that +day. It was half-past four before he was free; and as he +walked along the High Street, making for the inn where +his horse was put up, he came face to face with Ferris. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, Gaunt, how goes it?" cried Percy, wringing his +hand with effusion, proud that the passers-by should see +him on such terms with Gaunt of Omberleigh. "Not +looking very fit—what? Why don't you run down to +Worthing for the week-end and give your wife a surprise? +Do you good. Well, I can give you the latest news of +her. Been down there myself, staying over Sunday with +Rosenberg at the Beauséjour." +</P> + +<P> +"You have?" Gaunt's tongue clave to the roof of his +mouth. He could not own that he himself had no news +of Virginia. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, not a bad little hole, Worthing. Plenty of sun +and sea air and so on. Think it might suit Joey and the +kids for a month or two, later on. Pity Mrs. Gaunt +knocked up, wasn't it, though?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I was very much vexed to hear it," Gaunt was +able by this to reply with his natural brevity. +</P> + +<P> +"Enough to make her, though, wasn't it? Pretty bad +generalship on Rosenberg's part. You take my tip and +run down, Gaunt. They tell me she's deuced seedy." +There was meaning in the tone. +</P> + +<P> +"She makes light of it to me," said Gaunt, choosing his +line quickly. "Tell me what you know of it." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, well, of course, you heard that she got wet +through, driving in an open cart in the pouring rain +late at night, trying to reach Petworth in time for the +last train, or something. Of course, Rosenberg's car is +a beauty; you couldn't expect it to break down like that +... still, to send off his chauffeur to meet me at Chichester, +leaving himself and Mrs. Gaunt stranded in a +place where there was no accommodation, no telegraph—gad, +if you had seen the hovel where they spent the night, +Gaunt, I think you'd have given him a bit of the rough +side of your tongue." +</P> + +<P> +"The same idea has occurred to me," said Gaunt drily, +"but I understood that the whole thing could not be +avoided; it was quite an accident. Still, to drive her in +the wet, without even an umbrella—no wonder my wife +fell ill!" There was a certain relief in his heart, among +all the turmoil of jealousy and vexation. The circumstances +were, in themselves, quite enough to account for +illness, without his own shortcomings being in any way +responsible. +</P> + +<P> +"You see, she had nothing for the night," explained +Ferris, "so I suppose she couldn't take off her wet things. +I had a line from Rosenberg this morning about the directors' +meeting, and he mentioned that the doctor won't +let her leave her room." +</P> + +<P> +"So I understood. I think I had better take your +advice and run down. Thank you, Ferris. I am glad +to have seen you. My mother-in-law has the art of making +the most of things, and I was not sure just how unwell +my wife is." +</P> + +<P> +After the exchange of a few commonplaces, they parted. +Ferris watched Gaunt limp into the inn yard, and turned +away with an involuntary, "Poor devil!" He stood +irresolute upon the pavement for a minute or two, then +strolled into the post office, and wrote a telegram to Rosenberg: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>Gaunt coming down. Be on your guard.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +He was eager to stand well with both parties, and this +was his idea of accomplishing such object. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Never had the avenue which led to his own housedoor +seemed to Gaunt so wild, so desolate, as when he rode up +it this evening. The sun was already setting, gleaming +fierce and threatening red through the purple ragged +clouds which all day long had veiled it. +</P> + +<P> +He knew that everything was over, but he also knew +that to be any longer passive was beyond him. He was +going to London at once, by that same late train from +Derby which had taken her from him. To sleep in a +bed this night would be insupportable. If he were in +the train he would feel that he was not wasting hours of +enforced inaction. He would be in London in time to +take an early train to Worthing, and he would arrive there +during the morning, and ascertain his exact fate. +</P> + +<P> +Now he knew how firmly he had built upon the idea +of Virginia's faith. In the depths of his twisted, +shrunken, yet living heart, he had been certain that she +would keep her word. He still believed that she would +have kept it, had not revelation come to her. She and +Rosenberg having discovered the feeling which existed +between them, how could she come back to her nominal +husband with a lie upon her lips? +</P> + +<P> +As soon as she was well enough, she meant to write +and explain. He was sure of that. He kept insisting +upon it, in his mind. He would save her that effort. +He would go to her and make things as easy as he could. +He would explain that he knew himself to have forfeited +all claim. +</P> + +<P> +His horse's hoofs were beating to the refrain: "All +over! All over!" +</P> + +<P> +What a fool he had made himself over the redecorating +of that room! That room which from henceforth no human +foot would enter. Only the previous night he had +sat there for a couple of hours, playing upon the new piano +he had bought for her, and conjuring up the picture of +her, outlined against the delicate ivory walls, each tint +of her faint sea-shell colouring properly emphasised by +the appropriate background. He would always see her +like that in future. His desolate house would be haunted +for all the desolate time to come. +</P> + +<P> +He rode round by the stable yard, gave his horse to +the groom, and such was the disorder of his mind that +he flinched from being seen, even by Hemming. He forgot +that he had hoped the mid-day post might bring him +news. He went out of the yard, round by the garden, and +in through the window of his own den. +</P> + +<P> +Seating himself by his writing table, he found a railway +guide, but he did not even open it. His mind was +too thoroughly preoccupied with its own bitterness. He +rested his elbows on the desk, propping his chin upon +them, in a sort of exhaustion of defeat. +</P> + +<P> +When he wandered that day all unwitting into Hertford +House, his two angels had wandered with him—the good +and the evil. The good had taken his hand, had whispered +persuasively that his sad days were over—had +shown him something so fair and sweet that——Ah, but +the black spirit at his elbow had pushed forward. "After +all these years in my service, do you think I am going to +stand aside and see you join the opposition?" +</P> + +<P> +He heard the dressing-bell ring, and realised that, if +he meant to catch that train, he must call Hemming and +have his things put together at once. Yet still he could +not move. The bonds of his misery seemed to hold him +tied to his chair, tied to this ghastly echoing house full +of phantoms. He had had no food since about noon, +and his emptiness had passed beyond the stage of hunger. +It made him dazed. As he sat there, it was as though life +surged within him for the last time, urging him to go to +Worthing and face his doom like a man; and as though +the old house rejoiced over his stupor, murmuring that his +place was there, among the ruins of his own brutal folly +and fruitless hate. +</P> + +<P> +With an effort he stood up, found matches, lit the gas. +He must and would look at that railway guide. Yet, +when the light shone upon his untidy table, he forgot all +about Bradshaw. There, lying where he had laid them +before going out, were certain cases of jewellery which +had that morning come back from London. He had had +everything cleaned, and some things re-set, in the phantom +hope of a time when he might be allowed to give her presents. +</P> + +<P> +He fixed his eyes upon the leather cases, as if they had +been so many coffins. For the moment he gave up the attempt +to consider his expedition. It seemed so important +that he should realise just how futile his attempts to undo +the past must inevitably prove. +</P> + +<P> +A light step came along the passage. He almost +groaned, for it might have been hers; and he dreaded +lest all his life he should be pursued by those haunting +footfalls. Then a touch upon the handle of the door +startled him in a second from apathy. The handle was +turning, the door was about to open. What should he +see? In his present exalted abnormal frame of mind, he +might see anything, might even cause his thought of her +to take shape, so that she stood in bodily presence before +him. +</P> + +<P> +It seemed to him only what he had foreseen when the +slowly opening oak revealed her standing there. +</P> + +<P> +He knew that it was her wraith, because she was so +white—so unnaturally white. She wore white, too. +Her eyes were dilated, with a dread which she could not +conceal. It is possible that he might have heard the +beating of her heart, had his own not pulsed so loudly. +</P> + +<P> +He rose slowly to his feet—slowly, to match her entrance. +He neither moved nor spoke, as she shut the +door carefully behind her. As she did so the thought +stirred in his mind that he had never heard of a ghost +who closed a door. But his mind was a long way off. +The part of him now active was something utterly different. +</P> + +<P> +Then she moved forward towards him as he stood in the +circle of light. She came on bravely until she was within +a few paces of him, and then paused, and gave a little +sound between a laugh and a gasp. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said she, and valiantly held out her hand, "I +have come back, you see!" +</P> + +<P> +He was so startled at her voice that he gave a low cry. +Moving suddenly—always with him a mark of strong +agitation—he first grasped her hand in both his own, +then retaining it with one, passed the other hesitatingly +up her arm, till it rested upon her warm shoulder. "My +God," he said, "you are real! Speak, Virginia—are +you real?" +</P> + +<P> +She set her teeth in the effort not to flinch, but she shook +so that her trembling was perceptible to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Real? Yes, of course. Did you think I was a +ghost?" she asked, shrinking a little backward, so that +his hand fell from her shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"I did! How could you come here? You were ill! +Ferris said——" +</P> + +<P> +"But I am better, and I told you in my letter that I +should come the first minute that I was able." +</P> + +<P> +"What letter?" +</P> + +<P> +She shuddered a little. Then it was true! Her letter +had been kept back! "I telegraphed to-day," she stammered, +more and more nervous. "You were out, but the +motor met me at the station. When I arrived I told them +not to tell you I was here. I—I thought I would tell you +myself. Oh, are you angry with me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Angry?" he said with breaking voice. He turned +his head aside, for he could not control the working of +his face. +</P> + +<P> +"Why are you so surprised to see me?" she ventured, +after a pause. "You knew I should come back." +</P> + +<P> +"How could I know it?" he asked, almost inaudibly. +</P> + +<P> +"I was on my honour," she answered, equally low. +Then, gathering force as he still stood with averted face, +"I gave you my word to submit to anything, if you let +me go to Pansy. She doesn't need me any more, so I +am here." She waited a moment, but still he did not +speak. "I am well and strong now," she persisted +bravely. "I can do anything that you wish. What are +you going to do with me?" +</P> + +<P> +"There's only one thing I can do with you," came the +answer. "I can't let you go." +</P> + +<P> +She stood immovably, her eyes fixed upon him. The +dread lest he was not perfectly sane once more assailed +her. Her mother had spoken of him as a monomaniac. +Perhaps she feared him more at that moment than ever +previously. +</P> + +<P> +When he turned abruptly, with his characteristic jerk, +she started and shrank only too visibly. +</P> + +<P> +"Explain," he said. "Sit down in this chair—you +look as white as a sheet—and explain. You tell me you +are well and strong. Your mother in a letter which I +got last Saturday morning told me you were seriously ill. +Ferris, whom I met to-day in town, said that the doctor +would not let you get up. There is some discrepancy +here." +</P> + +<P> +Her eyes filled with tears. "I know," she said. +"May I tell you about it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly." +</P> + +<P> +He had seated her in the old wooden writing-chair +from which he had risen. He fetched another for himself, +and placed it near. The lamp fell upon her burnished +hair and upon his strained face as he raised it to her. +It struck her that he was very different from her memory +of him. His eyes had surely grown larger, his face thinner. +His close-cut hair changed his appearance. He +wore other, nicer clothes than those in which she was accustomed +to see him; but chiefly he looked younger, less +assured. There was something almost wistful in his expression. +</P> + +<P> +She gave a swift, appraising glance, and lowered her +eyes to the table. In her nervousness she would have +liked to take up a paper knife and play with it. Some +deep instinct told her to be simple and perfectly straightforward. +She let her hands lie in her lap. +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma," she began, "did not want me to come +back. I—I suppose she told you of the vexatious motor +accident, which obliged Mr. Rosenberg and me to stop the +night in a horrid little wayside inn?" +</P> + +<P> +"She said something of it—yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I was most anxious not to have to be away +all night, because I was to leave Worthing next day to +come back here, and so, when the car did not return, I +was urgent in begging that we might try to reach home +some other way. So we drove in a little open cart, through +pouring rain, to try and catch a train—the last train—and +just missed it. I got very wet, and I could not dry +my things properly, the place was so dirty and comfortless; +and I got a little feverish chill. It was not much, but it +made me delirious for some hours. I think the fever was +partly because I was vexed and anxious. You see, I had +written to you to say I was coming, and it was annoying +to be stopped like that. Anyway, when I was sensible +again mamma said I—I had been saying things ... you +understand ... things about you ... when I didn't +know what I was talking about." +</P> + +<P> +"I see." His tone was dry. +</P> + +<P> +"I had been very careful," she urged humbly, "not +to say anything about what had passed between us. I +hope you will forgive me for letting things out, unintentionally?" +</P> + +<P> +"Let me hear all that happened before we talk about +that." +</P> + +<P> +She looked frightened, but after a short pause continued +indomitably. +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma seemed horrified. She begged me not to +come back to you. In order to delay my coming, she told +the doctor to keep me in bed, though I was practically +well. I did not know what to do. I pretended to give +in. Then she went to town—this morning—for a day's +shopping or something, and Grover and I ran away without +telling anybody. I hope you think I did right. You +see, I knew I ought to come; I would not have deceived +mamma, but my first duty is to you, and Grover told me +that she had done something she really had no right to +do. She had intercepted a letter from me to you. Ah, +I know, it was partly my fault. I don't know what I +may have said when I was wandering. She thought she +was acting for the best, no doubt. But I felt unsafe somehow." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose you mean," said Gaunt slowly, "that your +mother thought you had better not come back to me at +all?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think so—yes. She said the law would give me +relief——" +</P> + +<P> +"She was very probably right. And yet—you came? +... It did not strike you that that was a foolish thing to +do? You did not reflect that possession is nine points of +the law?" +</P> + +<P> +He was looking fully at her, voice and eyes alike charged +with meaning which could not be mistaken. She did not +flinch. Her brown eyes told him that she had reflected, +that in returning she was fully conscious of the finality +of her action. +</P> + +<P> +"I had not to consider that," was her instant reply. +"I had to do what I knew to be right. I had to keep my +word." +</P> + +<P> +She spoke most evidently without any desire to create +an effect. The listening man restrained himself with +difficulty, but held on for a moment, to elucidate one more +point. +</P> + +<P> +"You came back, perhaps, in order to lay the case before +me? To see if I would set you free?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly not," was the steady answer. "You and +I made an agreement. You have kept your half—you +have done all you promised; but I"—the colour rushed +over her face—"I have not done any of my share." +</P> + +<P> +Not at all theatrically, but as naturally as an old Italian +peasant will kiss the Madonna's feet, he slipped from his +chair to his knees. So quietly that it did not startle +Virginia at all, he took up one of the hands that lay in +her lap and raised it to his lips. The action, so unlike +him, the silence in which he performed it, amazed her so +that she neither moved nor spoke. He replaced her hand, +laying it tenderly down, and seemed as though he would +speak, from his lowly position at her feet. Then, with +his own brusque suddenness, he rose, and stood beside her, +almost over her. +</P> + +<P> +"God has used me better than I deserved," he muttered +gruffly. "He has let me prove—prove to the hilt—that +there is such a thing as a perfectly noble woman. +Virginia, there shall be a way out for you. If you think +my word of any value, I give it solemnly. I will make +things right somehow. I may not be able to do it at once; +I must think the matter over carefully. In the meantime, +I want you to understand my position." He +paused a moment, and then spoke more fluently, as if the +thing he expressed had long been in his mind and so came +easily from his lips. "When I first met you I had been, +to all intents and purposes, a madman for twenty years. +I had not been twenty-four hours your husband before I +came to myself. It was as though—only I can't express +it—as though your innocence were a looking-glass, in +which I saw the kind of thing I am. Ever since, I have +been your humble servant. I—I tried to let you see +this, but of course it was hopeless. You were ill, and +they told me to keep out of your way. Then, when you +left me ... your heart was full of your little sister, occupied +with your own grief. I couldn't force on you the +consideration of mine." +</P> + +<P> +He paused, and she knew it was to summon command +of his voice. +</P> + +<P> +"And the idea came to me that I would wait—that I +would find out, for a certainty, that you really were as +fine as I had grown to think you. I wanted to prove +that you were heroic enough to come back to—to the sort +of thing which, as you believed, awaited you here. So +I wouldn't write to you as I longed to ... I just kept +silence ... and you came. You are here ... I am +such a fool at saying what I mean, but I must make you +understand that, for so long as it may be necessary for +you to remain, you are sacred. I—I will ask you to let +me eat with you, and be with you sometimes, because of—er—the +household. But once for all, I want you to +feel quite sure that you have nothing to fear from me." +</P> + +<P> +Thus, for the second time in her knowledge of him, +the man broke through his taciturnity. She could not +know that this outburst was far more characteristic of the +real Osbert Gaunt than the sullen, frozen surface hitherto +presented. +</P> + +<P> +She had no words in which to answer it. The world +had turned upside down, she could not reason, could not +think out what this might ultimately mean for her. She +could not grasp the fact of her husband's complete change +of front. Seated in the old chair, worn shiny with many +years of usage, she laid her hands upon its arms and lifted +her eyes to his, first in wonder, then in a gladness which +shone out in a smile that transfigured her pale face. He +was quite near—almost stooping over her, and he held +his breath with the intensity of the thrill that ran through +him. +</P> + +<P> +"O-o-oh!" she cooed tremulously. "Oh, Osbert!" +</P> + +<P> +The sound of his name so moved him that he almost +lost control. It sounded like a caress, it was as if she +had kissed him. He told himself that he would count +up the times she said it, from now until his final exit—treasure +them in his mind and call them kisses. +</P> + +<P> +At this moment the gong for dinner boomed in the +hall. It brought both of them back with a start to the +present moment. Virgie put her hands to her eyes as if +she had been dreaming. The man was first of all uncomfortably +conscious of riding breeches and gaiters. +</P> + +<P> +"Good heavens, dinner, and I haven't dressed! I +can't sit down with you like this!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, please do," she said, rising from her seat +with a new gaiety, as though a weight had rolled away. +</P> + +<P> +"Please don't keep me waiting while you dress, I am +so hungry, and I want to show you my fine new appetite! +Besides, Grover is sure to drive me upstairs at an unearthly +hour, she has been clucking after me all day like +an old mother hen, because, you see, I actually got out +of bed to travel! So don't waste any more time, but just +come in as you are." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll wash my hands—shan't be five minutes," he +stammered out, the sudden, everyday intimacy breaking +upon him like a fiery, hitherto untasted source of bliss. +"Wait for me, won't you?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap26"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE DIFFICULT PATH +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>I will but say what mere friends say.<BR> + Or only a thought stronger;<BR> + I will hold your hand but as long as all may,<BR> + Or so very little longer.</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">R. Browning.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +When Gaunt entered the dining-room, his wife was +standing before the fire, its red glow making her white +dress and white arms rosy. Hemming was busily employed +in fixing a screen at the back of her chair. +</P> + +<P> +"I asked Hemming to move my place," said she. "I +hope you don't mind. I felt so far away, there at the +end of the table. If I sit here we can talk much better." +</P> + +<P> +"A good idea." Gaunt hoped his voice sounded +natural as he spoke. He hardly knew what he said, such +was the turmoil within him that he wondered whether +his own appetite would fail as hers had done when last +they ate together. Yet he was, as a matter of fact, ravenously +hungry; and the taking of food steadied him +down and made him feel more normal. He found himself +obliged, however, to leave the burden of conversation +to her. She talked on bravely, about Dr. Danby and his +kindness to Pansy, until, the servants having left the room +to fetch the next course, she turned half-frightened, half-challenging +eyes to her husband. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid I'm 'prattling,' as you call it," she said +deprecatingly. "Shall I leave off? I will, if I am teasing +you." +</P> + +<P> +"Forgive me. I'm not really unresponsive—only a +bit bewildered," he answered. "You know that nothing +you could conceivably say could fail to interest me. Don't +remind me of my unconverted days." +</P> + +<P> +She could not answer, for Hemming returned at the +moment. She smiled and coloured. +</P> + +<P> +Left to themselves before the peaches and grapes, when +dinner was over, they fell silent. The memory of the former +occasion tied the girl's tongue. +</P> + +<P> +The man was facing his problem. Virginia sat there +with him, in his house—his wife. She had come back +prepared to accept this fate. Had he the strength to resist, +the greatness not to take advantage of, her integrity +and courage? +</P> + +<P> +The first thing he must do was to ascertain, if possible, +her feeling for Gerald Rosenberg, and also whether the +young man was really earnest in his love for her. +</P> + +<P> +If he could be satisfied on both these heads, he told +himself that he must make atonement in the one possible +way. His white lily should never go through the mire of +a divorce court, nor must lack of money stand between her +and the man of her choice. +</P> + +<P> +Such thoughts as these are inimical to conversation. +He sat for some long minutes peeling a peach, and then +sensing the delight of watching her while she ate it. +</P> + +<P> +Grover entered quietly. "I just looked in to say I +hope you will come upstairs punctually at nine, ma'am," +said she, with a keen glance at the two. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Grover; I will be good to-night—though I warn +you your tyranny is nearly over," said Virgie, her eyes +full of mischief. How gay she was when the gaiety was +not dashed out of her! As Grover retired, she rose from +her chair and looked at him pleadingly. "I wonder if +you would do something for me to-night—something I +specially want you to do?" said she in tones of coaxing. +</P> + +<P> +"But of course!" He was on his feet in a moment. +</P> + +<P> +"I want you to play to me—on the piano. You +played that—first—night. Do you remember?" +</P> + +<P> +"You liked it?" +</P> + +<P> +She nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"I used to hear you afterwards—when I was upstairs. +Grover used to open the door for me to listen," she confessed. +</P> + +<P> +"Really?" He showed his intense pleasure in this +tribute. "Come," he said, "I have got a new piano to +show you." +</P> + +<P> +They went together down the passage to the door of +her own sitting-room, now, needless to say, unlocked. +They passed in; and Gaunt thought himself overpaid for +anything he had ever suffered when he heard her first +"O-o-oh!" of surprise and pleasure. +</P> + +<P> +The ivory room lay in warm light. The fire danced +on the hearth; and upon the pale blue, rose-garlanded +hearth-rug lay Cosmo and Damian, with bows to match +their surroundings. +</P> + +<P> +The graceful, wine-dark furniture gleamed in the mellow +lamp-light. Every piece in the room was perfection +in its way. There was a Chesterfield in just the right +place, at right angles to the fire. Beside it, a small revolving +table book-case alone struck a note of frank modernity, +and needed but the books and work to complete +it. +</P> + +<P> +"You like it?" he asked, trying to mask his eager wistfulness. +</P> + +<P> +"I should think so! You never told me a word! You +had this all done! Oh, how curious!" she murmured in +wonder, recalling with a shock the dream which she had +dreamt—how she had sought in vain for the old furniture +in the attic, and going into this room where she now +stood had seen it full of formless whiteness. +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you call it curious?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Because I dreamt about it," she answered, laughing +shamefacedly. "I dreamt that I had come back, and was +looking for you—that I was up in the attics and could +not find this furniture—and that when I came downstairs, +this room was empty and all white and +ghostly——" +</P> + +<P> +"Did you succeed in finding me—in your dream?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." She laughed again. "But it was all stupid—you +know dreams are. Oh, what a darling piano! +And that fine old book-cupboard with glass doors! A +secretaire—isn't that the proper name for it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you like it? I am glad. I have hung no pictures. +Daren't trust my own taste there. Also, I felt +that I must leave you to choose your own books—or perhaps +you would put china in that cupboard? I find there +is a quantity of old blue stored away up above in the +garret. It might amuse you to select and arrange it." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it will!" said Virgie in delight. "How pretty +it all looks! I had no idea it could be so changed by just +being treated right. Don't you want to do all the rest of +the house?" +</P> + +<P> +"I want <i>you</i> to do it," he answered. +</P> + +<P> +"But I couldn't have thought of anything half as perfect +as this!" was her admiring response. +</P> + +<P> +He smiled, but let the compliment pass. +</P> + +<P> +"I want you to put your feet up now," he said, "for +I know you must be tired to death. Let me show you +how the end of your couch lets down. There! Are the +pillows right?" +</P> + +<P> +She ensconced herself in luxury. "This is just like +a dream," she said; "and if you will play to me, it will +be still more so. I'll graciously allow you to drink your +coffee first," she added, as Hemming came in. +</P> + +<P> +He stood before the hearth as he drank his coffee, looking +down upon her and wondering how long he was going +to bear things. He must find a way out before his resolution +quite failed. +</P> + +<P> +With that disconcerting suddenness of his, he put down +his cup and made a dash for the piano. As he sat at the +keyboard he could see the top of her shining head just +above the delicate-hued cushions which supported it. He +saw Cosmo jump upon her lap, and he watched the waving +to and fro of her hand as she gently stroked the cat. +When he stopped playing she begged him to go on. Then +after a while the little hand ceased to move. The head +was very still. At last he paused, let his hands fall, +waited. No sound. He rose and limped across the soft +carpet with noiseless feet. She was fast asleep. +</P> + +<P> +Just for a moment he allowed himself to stand there +looking upon her. His strong, somewhat harsh features +wore a look which transfigured them. Then he turned +away with his mouth hard set. He had no right there, +he bitterly reminded himself. +</P> + +<P> +The little buhl clock chimed nine in silver tones. He +went softly to the door to prevent Grover from coming in +and awakening her abruptly. As he opened it, Hemming +was approaching with a telegram upon a tray. He took +it, and as he read his eyes lit with a gleam of satisfaction. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>Is Virginia with you? She left Worthing this +morning.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Making a sign to Hemming not to disturb Mrs. Gaunt, +he went over to the writing-table and wrote: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +<i>Virginia came home to-day, as previously arranged. +Seems very well.</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +As Hemming took the message and departed, Grover +came along the passage. Gaunt admitted her, with a shy +smile. +</P> + +<P> +"I have played her to sleep," he said. "It seems a +shame to disturb her." +</P> + +<P> +Grover went and stooped over Virginia, then raised +her eyes to the husband's face. +</P> + +<P> +"Spite of that tiresome chill, she looks a deal stronger, +doesn't she, sir?" she asked in hushed accents. +</P> + +<P> +He nodded, beckoning her to come to him at some distance, +that their lowered tones might not disturb the +sleeper. "Grover, is it true, for a fact, that Mrs. Mynors +kept back a letter from Mrs. Gaunt to me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can't swear to it, sir, not what they'd take in a +court of justice, I suppose; but I'll tell you what happened +about it." She related the circumstances, and then asked +whether he had, in fact, received the letter. When she +heard that he had not, she looked triumphant, but she +looked troubled too. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't seem to make out the rights of it, sir, but +there was something afoot. For some reason which I can't +understand, they didn't want her to come back here. I +can't make head nor tail of it myself." +</P> + +<P> +"Was this Mr. Rosenberg's plot, do you think?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, sir, that is what is so puzzling. Mrs. Mynors +is, I suppose, a respectable lady. She isn't what you call +fast; and her daughter is a married woman. What could +she mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me frankly, Grover. Do you think they had an +idea of making mischief, serious enough to cause a breach +between Mrs. Gaunt and me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, for pity's sake, they couldn't be so wicked as +that! And you but just married! But since you have +put it so plain, I will just own to you that I feel sure +in my own mind about one thing, which is that Baines, +that's Mr. Rosenberg's chauffeur, was given orders not to +bring back the car to fetch them that night. He never +said so to me, not in so many words, but it was the look +in his eye, sir, if you understand me." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think that her mother supposed that Mrs. +Gaunt was not happy with me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, sir, if you'll pardon the remark, that sounds +like nonsense, for you have had no chance to be together +so far. I can tell you I was thankful when I was once +safe in the train with her this morning. I felt, even +if she has to go back to bed the minute she gets home, +home is the proper place for her, any way of it. And +though she was leaving her little sister and all, she seemed +to cheer up when we were off; and I know she felt a relief +when we had got through London and were fair on our +way. We had to steal out of the house as careful as anything, +for Miss Pansy was not started for the parade front, +it being so early. Fortunately, Mr. Tony was off for the +day with his friend." +</P> + +<P> +"Tony? Was the boy there?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, sir, for the whole time, and the last week +we were in London as well." +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt was surprised. No room or board for Tony +had been charged in any of the minutely kept accounts +which he had received. He made no comment, however, +and the maid crossed the room and gazed once more upon +the sleeping girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you think she looks bonny, sir?" she asked +timidly; and was reassured when Gaunt's eyes met her +own in friendly approval. +</P> + +<P> +"She's more lovely than ever, Grover," he replied, to +her immense gratification. +</P> + +<P> +"You might carry her upstairs, sir," she suggested; +"you can do it easy, can't you?" +</P> + +<P> +His face changed. "No," he said decidedly, "it would +startle her. You had better rouse her, please, if you +want her to go with you now." +</P> + +<P> +He walked away to the window, and stood in the empty +space for which he had designed the statue of Love. +Grover sent a keen, vexed glance after him. "Silly +thing," was her disrespectful inward comment. "Why is +he so plaguey shy of his own wife?" +</P> + +<P> +"She'll have to get used to you, sir," she ventured after +a pause, her heart in her mouth. +</P> + +<P> +"It must be by degree," he answered, speaking with his +back towards her. +</P> + +<P> +With a shrug of her shoulders, having ventured all +and more than all she dare, she bent over Virginia and +aroused her. The grey cat bounded to the floor, hunching +his back and stretching his legs in the heat of the +glowing logs. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" cried Virgie, springing to her feet, "I went +to sleep while Mr. Gaunt was playing!" +</P> + +<P> +"The greatest tribute you could pay me, since I played +a lullaby," remarked her husband, strolling up. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Next morning, though it was still cold, autumnal +weather, the sun was shining. Gaunt could hardly believe +his eyes when Virgie ran into the dining-room at the summons +of the breakfast gong, looking as fresh and gay as +the morning. The contrast between what was in his heart, +and his cool, undemonstrative greeting, struck him as so +grotesque that he almost laughed. +</P> + +<P> +When they were seated, and she had poured out his +coffee, they found it very difficult to know what to say. +Virginia felt herself held back by what he had said the +previous day. He had spoken as though he thought her +stay at Omberleigh would be only temporary. She was +eager to settle down, to know what she might do and plan, +to begin some kind of a life together. In face of his +attitude, she felt unable to make any advance, to offer any +request or suggestion. +</P> + +<P> +At last it occurred to her to ask what he had to do +that day. He began to tell her that he was due in a +certain part of the estate to——Then he pulled himself +up, and said, with a covert eagerness: +</P> + +<P> +"Unless you want me?" +</P> + +<P> +She rested her elbows on the table and looked shyly +at him. "Of course I should like to have your society +for a while," she answered. "I want to go round the +place again. I was so stupid that first day—I felt so +ill I hardly knew what I was doing. But now I can walk +finely! If you have time——" +</P> + +<P> +"But of course I have. Caunter is all right without +me. I am at your service. Do you remember one day +when you were on the terrace, and Mrs. Ferris was here, +you said, or she said, that you would like to remodel the +garden? Well, you know this is the time of year to do +that. If you set to work now it will be all ready for next +spring." +</P> + +<P> +She looked at him earnestly. "Please forgive me for +asking," she said hesitatingly, "but yesterday I thought +you said—you spoke as if you did not mean to keep me +here. Did you mean that, or was it my fancy?" +</P> + +<P> +He cleared his throat. "Oh, that was your fancy. +Certainly it was. I was only thinking that—of course +everything is uncertain—human life, for instance. I'm +a good deal older than you. If anything should—should +happen to me, for example—this place would be yours. +I have bequeathed it to you. So it is worth your while to +make it what you like." +</P> + +<P> +"If anything happened to you?" Obviously she was +surprised, and also distressed. "Osbert, what is likely +to happen to you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, nothing, of course," he replied hastily. "Only +sometimes the unexpected may arrive, may it not?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't talk like that," she cried impetuously. "It +would be too dreadful, if anything stopped us just at +the beginning—just as we are making a start. Oh, do +you remember——" She broke off short. +</P> + +<P> +"I remember every single smallest thing you ever did +or said," he threw out suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you remember when you and I had lunch together +at the Savoy. I bored you horribly by trying to +make conversation, when you didn't want to talk; and +you told me that you knew all about me, as if you had +known me all my life. I didn't think it was true," she +laughed, playing with a fork and not daring to look at him. +"Do you think it was?" +</P> + +<P> +"It was as false, as detestable, as mistaken, and as +insulting as all the other things I said that day," was his +energetic answer. +</P> + +<P> +She looked up then, and smiled at him. She was beginning +to adjust her ideas. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you are not thinking of sending me away?" +she begged to know. +</P> + +<P> +"Put that completely out of your head." +</P> + +<P> +"If that is so, it will be the greatest fun to set to +work upon the garden." She paused, recollected herself. +"Will that interest you too? I beg your pardon for +asking, but I do know so ridiculously little about you; +and, you see, your garden doesn't <i>look</i> as if you liked gardens, +if you will forgive me for saying it." +</P> + +<P> +"I've been so lonely," he answered meekly. "There +was nobody who cared whether the garden was nice or +not. If you care, why I shall take the most tremendous +interest in it." +</P> + +<P> +She was evidently quite satisfied. "Let me see," she +reflected. "How soon can we begin? I must go and +say how-do-you-do to Mrs. Wells, and she will tell me what +I am to order for dinner; and then I must send a line to +Joey, and ask her to come over to tea to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +"You have a car of your own now," he broke in. +"Don't be beholden to her any more than you wish." +</P> + +<P> +"She was very kind," said Virgie, "and I know she +would like to come if you don't mind. I'm sorry for her +too." +</P> + +<P> +"Why are you sorry for her?" +</P> + +<P> +She looked up at him, with a half smile, and an appeal +for response. "Her husband is such a—such a <i>dreadful</i> +person, isn't he?" +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt, for the first time in their mutual acquaintance, +gave the sympathy, the understanding for which she +begged. He smiled, in the same way that she smiled, +as if they were thoroughly in accord upon the point of +Mr. Ferris. "Poor old Joey!" he replied. "Your society +must be a godsend to her. They were kind to me +while you were away. I went there several times. Joey +let me read your letters to her." +</P> + +<P> +This last was very tentatively said, with an apprehensive +glance. +</P> + +<P> +Virgie laughed, however. "Such silly letters," she remarked. +Then, laying aside her table-napkin and rising: +"Then in an hour's time, shall we go out in the garden?" +</P> + +<P> +He eagerly assented. "I'll go down to the lodge and +get Emerson to come along," he told her. "Then we can +plan something." +</P> + +<P> +They spent the entire morning in the garden, and at +lunch time there was certainly no lack of conversation. +In the absorbing topic of rock-gardening, the idea of redecorating +the house fell temporarily into the background. +</P> + +<P> +They motored into Buxton that afternoon, and spent +some time viewing the plants in a celebrated nursery +garden. Gaunt had learned to drive the car during her +absence, and was himself at the wheel, which fact lessened +for him the hardship of the situation. He was +occupied with his driving, and not drawn irresistibly by +the magnet of her charm. That evening, however, after +dinner, when they were together in her beautiful warm +white room, the tug of war began. He had to smother +down the impulse to fight for his life, to make some +kind of blundering bid for the love which he knew in +his heart had been given to Rosenberg before he ever saw +her. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia could not but suppose that his coldness, his +complete aloofness, his apparent declining of all beginnings +of intimacy, arose from sheer shyness. She believed +that some things are better and more easily expressed +without words. Thus, that evening, when he was +at the piano, playing out his heartache in soft, sad chords +in passionate, rapid movements, she came and stood behind +him—close behind him. +</P> + +<P> +This was hard, but he bore it. Manfully he went on +playing for a while; but the influence of her presence +standing there, the emanation of her personality, checked +his fingers. He stumbled, missed a note, dropped his +hands, sat silent. +</P> + +<P> +"It is cold, so far from the fire," said her coaxing +voice. "I've been making you play till your fingers are +frozen;" with which she took them in her velvet, soft +clasp. +</P> + +<P> +This was too much. He drew his hand from her clinging +touch with a sensation as though he tore it from a +trap, lacerating it in the attempt. He sprang from his +seat. "Jove! I have just thought of something I must +tell Hemming," he muttered hurriedly; and, pushing past +her, left the room by way of the door into his own den. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia stood amazed, confused, and somewhat uncomfortable. +</P> + +<P> +This, her first advance, must certainly be her only one. +She went and sat on the hearth-rug, gazing into the fire, +and puzzling. Suddenly a clear light shone upon the +darkness of her musing. But, of course!... +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt had not married her for love, but in pursuance +of some half-crazed scheme of vengeance. He had +thought it his duty to reform a heartless, selfish coquette. +Now that he had found her to be very unlike his preconceived +idea of her, what did he, what could he, want with +her?... +</P> + +<P> +Why had she not sooner perceived this obvious truth? +Colour flooded her, she blushed hotly in the solitude. +His plans had proved abortive, and he found himself +saddled with a young woman with whose company he +would, no doubt, gladly dispense. He was apparently +ready to continue their present semi-detached existence, +so long as she made no attempt to force the barriers of +his confidence or intimacy. She remembered, on reflection, +that he had made no appeal to her, that he had confessed +nothing. He had not even begged for forgiveness. +He had merely owned himself mistaken in his estimate +of her. Since the outburst which had, as it +seemed, been shaken out of him at the unexpected sight +of her, he had stood on guard all the time. She had +really been very slow and stupid, or she would have seen, +long ago, how embarrassing her presence must be, unless +she grasped the terms of their mutual relation. +</P> + +<P> +Her lips curved into an involuntary smile as she recalled +her well-meant attempt at a kindness he did not +want. She bit her lip as she gazed into the fire. +"We-e-ell!" she said aloud, with a little grimace, "I've +been slow at picking up my cue, but I think I've got it +now." +</P> + +<P> +Almost as she spoke Gaunt re-entered, and Grim the +collie slunk in at his heels. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm most awfully sorry for bolting like that, but it +was important," he said, in tones of would-be friendly +frankness. With that he turned to shut the dog out. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, let her come in, poor old girl! What has she +done to be shut out?" cried Virgie, sitting on her heels +upon the floor. +</P> + +<P> +"I—I don't think your cats like her," he replied, hesitating. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I never! They will have to like her. If they +are to live in the same house, they must be friends," was +the quick retort. "Grim, Grim, poor old girl, come here +then!" +</P> + +<P> +Grim, more perceptive than her master, was quick to +perceive the invitation in the sweet voice, and came bounding +into the circle of firelight. Damian sat up and spat, +his back an arch, his tail a column. Virgie flung her +arms round Grim's handsome neck and hugged her. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you take a bit of notice of that cheeky kitten, +my dear. If he doesn't like you, he can lump you. This +was your house, long before he was born or thought of," +she said, petting the collie till her tail thumped the ground +with ecstasy; her tongue hung out and she slobbered with +utter content. +</P> + +<P> +"Osbert," said Virgie calmly, "there's a sheepskin +mat out in the hall that would just do for her beside the +fire here in the corner. If that is her place, the cats will +very soon recognise it. Will you go and fetch it in for me, +please?" +</P> + +<P> +"But"—he paused—"this is your room, isn't it? and +Grim's a big dog. Her place is in my den." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, she'll very soon find out where the warmest corner +is, won't you, girl?" laughed Virgie. "Even if <i>you</i> +won't come into my room, I'll warrant she will! Unless"—with +a daring glance—"you mean us to have separate +establishments, even to the dogs and cats?" +</P> + +<P> +He began to speak, halted, then said quietly enough: +"I want you to have things as you like. I think you +know that, really." +</P> + +<P> +"Then this poor old thing shall come in just whenever +she wants to," said Virgie, holding the golden muzzle in +her hand, and kissing the white star upon the dog's forehead. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt, watching, made a note of the exact spot. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap27"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +LUNCH AT PERLEY HATCH +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>Shall I not one day remember thy bower,<BR> + One day when all days are one day to me?<BR> + Thinking, 'I stirred not, and yet had the power!'<BR> + Yearning, 'Ah, God, if again it might be!'</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">D. G. Rossetti.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"You're not the sort to bet on, Percy," remarked Joey +Ferris. "What have you been filling me up with? You +came home here, saying you could put me wise about the +Gaunt marriage, and that the whole thing was going phut, +and she wasn't coming back to him!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you're off the rails this time, old man. She +came home on Wednesday, and this morning I had a note +from her to say she would call for me in the car this afternoon, +and take me over to Omberleigh to tea." +</P> + +<P> +"Jove though!" Ferris stood stock still in his astonishment. +"You're kidding, Joey?" +</P> + +<P> +"Wish I may die," was the chaste rejoinder. +</P> + +<P> +Ferris turned things rapidly over in his mind. "Did +you go?" he asked at length. +</P> + +<P> +"Go? I should think so. She is as well as ever she +was in her life—laughing and talking, as different from +the timid little crushed thing she was, as you are different +from Gaunt! While she was away, he has had her own +sitting-room all done up for her, and my word! he has +done it in style. You never saw anything so classy; it's +like the little boudoir at the Chase; and she says he never +bought a thing, except the carpet and curtains. The furniture +and china was all in the house, put away, and +they've got enough left to furnish the dining-room as +well. My, it'll be a nice place by the time she's done +with it." +</P> + +<P> +"Joey, I give you my word, that on Saturday she was +in bed, delirious, and her mother sat up all night with +her." +</P> + +<P> +"That might be. Look how Bill's temperature runs +up if he gets a bit of a chill! She was all right by Wednesday, +and now she's as fit as a fiddle. Seems so keen about +things too. Got a great idea of going over the mine. I +thought we might have 'em both to lunch next week, and +take them round after." +</P> + +<P> +"Good idea. But have you forgotten that Rosenberg +will be staying here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not me. That doesn't make a bit of difference. She +was talking about him as easily as you might talk about +me. Tell you what, Percy, you've got the wrong sow by +the ear this time." +</P> + +<P> +"If there's been a mistake, it was Rosenberg's, not +mine," said Ferris. "You may bet on that. Seems to +me he's about put himself in the cart." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, how? What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +Ferris laughed. "He insisted on laying me fifty sovereigns +to one that she never went back to Gaunt. I told +him he didn't know O.G. as well as I do." +</P> + +<P> +"Pooh! He didn't know Virgie, much more likely. +She's still water, is that little lady." +</P> + +<P> +"Huh? You don't mean she's not straight?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not much. She's the straightest goer I ever came +across. But she doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know where she keeps it then," said Percy, +with a grin. "You don't suppose old Gaunt's got it, do +you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Couldn't tell you that, but one thing I <i>can</i> say for +certain. It doesn't belong to young Rosenberg." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you sure, Joey?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said she simply. +</P> + +<P> +"I can go pretty near the truth of it, I expect," she +added presently. "Rosenberg tried to make mischief, +and it hasn't come off." +</P> + +<P> +"He told me Gaunt was cruel to her—actually tortured +her," said Percy, in a lowered voice. "Said she +let it out in her delirium." +</P> + +<P> +"Go and tell that to the next one," scorned his wife. +"If it's true, then being tortured agrees with her." +</P> + +<P> +"You can't deny she was very ill when she first came +here." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but that was none of Gaunt's doing. That was +because she had been starving herself and doing all the +housework for the best part of two years." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'll have to try and explain matters to Rosenberg +when he comes next week," said Percy, quite meek +and crestfallen. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +At Omberleigh meanwhile, since the moment when +Virgie grasped the position, things had been going on +fairly well. By degrees, a footing of friendly acquaintanceship +had been established, which was sustained without +difficulty on the woman's part. The man, however, +was less satisfied. He went about each day with the +knowledge that, if he was not quick about accomplishing +some sort of suicide which should be obviously accidental, +his own control might fail him at any moment, and the +present state of tantalising half-and-half would become impossible +to maintain. +</P> + +<P> +Yet, for a strong, energetic, experienced man to kill +himself in such a manner that nobody should suspect him +of having done so was harder than he had foreseen. He +turned over plan after plan in his mind, only to reject +them all. He began to despair of ever accomplishing +his purpose convincingly, as long as he stayed in England. +The idea of taking Virginia to Switzerland suggested +itself. There it would be comparatively simple. +He would only have to leave her in a comfortable hotel, +taking care that she had plenty of money, and go rambling +on a mountain side alone, hurling himself down any +precipice which looked sufficiently steep to make a +thorough job of it. +</P> + +<P> +Against this was the fact that it was growing late in +the season for Switzerland, and most of the mountain hotels +would be closed. The mere circumstance of his selecting +Switzerland for a late autumn holiday might look +suspicious in the light of after events. +</P> + +<P> +To do the thing intentionally, which was by far the +easiest plan, was, from his point of view, out of the question, +because of the implied slur upon his widow. If a +newly married man commits suicide, he may leave a hundred +explanations, assuring his wife of his happiness with +her, but they will impose upon nobody. He was determined +not to expose his beloved to the evil tongues of +rumour; yet he felt he must shortly take some definite +action or go mad. +</P> + +<P> +In this frame of mind he heard with interest that +Gerald was coming to stay at Perley Hatch. So far, he +had had no chance to gather anything of Virginia's feeling +for him. Two or three times he had tried to ask, but +voice and courage failed him. In his male density, he +imagined that he would not be able to see the two together +without coming to a conclusion. He urged the acceptance +of Joey's invitation. Virginia's health, since her return, +gave no cause for anxiety, and she was eager to explore +the cave. +</P> + +<P> +It was in a mood of great depression that he set out +with her upon the day fixed. He was uncertain of everything—of +her feeling, of his own intentions, of Gerald's +worth. The existing state of things, difficult though it +might be, was perilously sweet. There were hours when +he told himself that he was an utter fool, and that his +present attitude was a quixotry which bordered upon madness; +yet there seemed no way to end it. Every day of +the footing upon which he and his wife now stood made +it more irrelevant, as it were, for him to turn from luke-warm +companion into ardent lover ... and when he +tried to face what would be his feeling if she rejected +him, as she might—or worse still if, as was more likely, +she submitted to his love without returning it—he felt +that he simply did not dare risk it. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia was quick to note his depression. The +variability of his spirits nowadays was more noticeable +than he supposed. Sometimes her light-hearted nonsense +would beguile him into something like hilarity. These +moments were usually, as she was well aware, followed +by a corresponding withdrawal. She built all her hopes +upon them, however, for it seemed to her that in the period +of reaction he never slipped back quite so far into the +realms of distance. It was an approach, though a very +gradual one. Like a rising tide, each wave fell back; +but, all the same, the flood mounted. +</P> + +<P> +She chatted gaily as she sat beside him in the car, talking +of the matters which engrossed her—the garden and +the house; also of an invitation to the Chase to dine, which +had lately been accepted. He could not perceive that she +manifested the least consciousness of being on the way to +meet her lover. +</P> + +<P> +When they walked together into Joey's drawing-room, +he was not so certain. Rosenberg, in spite of self-command, +betrayed a very obvious embarrassment. If her +feeling were doubtful, his was not. Her mere presence +in the room seemed to set him a-quiver. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt shook hands with him more easily, less grudgingly +than on the former occasion of their meeting. This +surprised Gerald somewhat. He had gone from that +meeting straight to the address given him by Joey, had +seen Virginia, established an intimate footing of friendship, +taken her about in his car, and done other things +which a newly made husband would be most apt to resent. +Yet Gaunt's greeting was almost kindly. This disturbed +Gerald. There must be one of two reasons for it. +Either he was so sure of his wife that he could afford +to ignore other men, or he knew more than he pretended to, +and was on the watch, eager to take his adversary off +guard. +</P> + +<P> +These thoughts produced considerable constraint in +the young man's manner to Virgie, whose gentle sweetness +was much the same as usual. +</P> + +<P> +"You made a surprisingly quick convalescence," he remarked, +thinking how delicious she was in her tailor suit +of silver corduroy. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said. "I was sure you would be pleased +to know that I was not nearly so ill as mamma thought +me. She was alarmed because I was feverish, but it soon +went off. I am quite splendidly well now. This air suits +me—doesn't it, Osbert?" +</P> + +<P> +"It really seems to," he replied, ready to worship +her for calling him so naturally into the conversation. +"Motoring, too, agrees with you. I feel very grateful to +you, Rosenberg, for giving her some runs down in Sussex, +though I wish you could have avoided the drenching." +</P> + +<P> +The composed voice and words made Percy feel quite +hot, and for a moment they disconcerted Gerald, but he +took up his cue almost at once. +</P> + +<P> +"I have been afraid to look you in the face, Gaunt," +he replied gratefully, "since making such an utter ass +of myself. I'm glad to take this chance of apologising; +but I don't feel quite so repentant as I did, now that I see +Mrs. Gaunt look so well and blooming." +</P> + +<P> +Joey chimed in, vowing that the Derbyshire air was +doing wonders for Virgie. +</P> + +<P> +"If we could get some fine weather, Osbert ought to +run you round the Peak," said Virgie to Gerald. +</P> + +<P> +Gerald was puzzled. If this were acting it was jolly +good. Surely this girl could not be afraid of her husband. +He looked from one to the other, completely mystified. +</P> + +<P> +Lunch was quite a hilarious meal. Tom and Bill were +both present, and Virgie sat between them by special request. +She confided various episodes from the career of +Little Runt to their willing ears, and the way in which +she understood them, and entered into conversation without +the least effort, or any departure from her usual naturalness +of manner, filled Gaunt with admiration. They +behaved so well as to surprise both their parents, seeming +quite hypnotised by the spell of the thrilling voice and +the dainty nonsense talk with which she plied them. +</P> + +<P> +After lunch, while the men stood about smoking a +cigarette before starting, baby was brought down, and +Joey and Virgie, kneeling on the drawing-room carpet, +tried to inveigle her into making a tottering step alone. +It was pathetically amusing to watch her little plump +body, balanced upon its unsteady supports, her dimpled +arms outspread, her baby lips parted in glee, showing +the two rows of tiny pearls between. To and fro, to and +fro, she wavered, with protecting arms on either hand, not +touching, but guarding. Then at last, with a shriek of +ecstasy at her own boldness, she ran forward—one step—two—and +fell, a triumphant, huddled sweetness, right +upon Virgie's breast. +</P> + +<P> +The girl knelt up, clasping the rosy thing in her hugging +arms, kissing her cheek and praising her courage. +"Oh, babs, when you are a big, grown up girl," said she, +"some day I will remind you that you took your first step +to me." +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt stood near the window, rigid, fascinated, his +whole being melted into a tenderness so poignant as to +be half painful. How many sources of happiness, simple +and everyday, were in the world! How barren and dry +and selfish his own life had been! In his moment of insight, +he saw that even Joey Ferris, tied to Percy, might +have her moments of utter beatification, since he had made +her the mother of this babe. +</P> + +<P> +He took a new resolve. When they got home that +evening, he would have it out with Virginia, he would +give her her choice. He would persuade her to tell him +frankly if all her heart was bound up in Gerald. If it +was not.... +</P> + +<P> +He did not hear Ferris suggesting to him that they +should be on the move. They had to call him thrice before +he started from his dream. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap28"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE WAY BACK +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>She is coming, my life, my sweet,<BR> + Were it never so airy a tread,<BR> + My heart would hear it and beat,<BR> + Were it earth in an earthy bed.<BR> + My dust would hear it and beat<BR> + Had I lain for a century dead,<BR> + Would start and tremble under her feet<BR> + And blossom in purple and red!</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Tennyson.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The entrance to the lead mine cave had now been artificially +widened to allow of free entrance. From the +valley below a light wooden stair had been erected, up +which the visitors passed. Some good workmen from a +similar mine elsewhere were now busy on the premises, +making the final tests before the experts would pronounce +that there was really money in the scheme. +</P> + +<P> +The party came presently upon a spot where a big underground +stream gushed from a tunnel, crossed a space +about twenty feet wide, and disappeared in another tunnel +on the opposite side of the cavern. It emerged three miles +away, far down Branterdale. Nobody knew whence it +came. +</P> + +<P> +Since first the caves were discovered, great progress +had been made; and only the previous day the men had +chipped open a crack in the rock wall, discovering within +another big space with a very dangerous floor. +</P> + +<P> +"We've all got to be careful in here," remarked Percy, +as he marshalled his party. "Perhaps, Joey, you and +Mrs. Gaunt would be happier outside, for it's a case of +crawling in." +</P> + +<P> +Virgie and Joey, however, were not going to be left +behind. They neither of them had any objection to +crawling. With the help of their escort, they both got +through quite easily, and found themselves in a curious +place. Under their feet were spikes of rock, with deep +inequalities between. The men had laid down planks, +and warned the visitors to be careful not to step off them. +On the further side of this cavern was a very deep cleft +which had not yet been explored, as the men had found +the air down there too foul for them to venture to descend. +</P> + +<P> +"Like an old well—they don't know how deep," said +Percy, indicating a black hole, or chasm, on the further +side of the irregular-shaped space in which they stood. +"They got a big bundle of hay, set it alight, and pitched +it in, burning fiercely. The air down there put it out in +no time." +</P> + +<P> +"Not much chance for anybody who went over," remarked +Gaunt, moving nearer. +</P> + +<P> +"Not much. Don't stand too close," replied Percy. +"You see, the men put in a stake, and rigged up a rope, +meaning to go down and explore; but they will have to +wait till something has been done before they can make +use of it." +</P> + +<P> +"What will they do?" asked Virgie, with interest. +</P> + +<P> +"Pump air down, I think, and force the bad gas upwards," +replied Percy, who was in his element, showing +and explaining. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt stood on the plank near the hole, gazing at it +as if it fascinated him. His hands were in his pockets. +Virgie had made a little movement when he first approached +it, putting out her hand as if to grasp his arm. +She checked herself, for since his rebuff she had never +touched him. But as he still stood there, seeming lost +in his own thoughts, some kind of dread fell upon her. +"Osbert," she said. +</P> + +<P> +He turned sharply at the sound of her voice, and moved +towards her. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe my—my shoe-lace has come untied," said +she. +</P> + +<P> +It was the first thing that occurred to her to say, and +she knew it was a lame excuse. He looked so intently +at her that she almost thought he was aware that it was +a pretext merely. Never before had she asked him to +render her any such small personal service. +</P> + +<P> +"Lean against the wall, and give me your foot," said +he. "I'll do it up." +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks. The—the air is rather close in here, isn't +it?" she faltered, as she went to stand against the cave +side. "Will you take me out? I feel a bit faint." +</P> + +<P> +"We shall all go out in a minute or two," was his +reply, as he knelt upon the plank at her feet. +</P> + +<P> +He tried to steady himself as he bent over his task. +He had seen something in her eyes which shook his purpose—a +dawning anxiety, or fear, or.... Was that all? +Was there not more? He could not be sure. +</P> + +<P> +But, if her suspicions were awake, he might have to +let this chance go. +</P> + +<P> +The cave echoed to Joey's loud, jolly laugh. She and +Gerald were standing upon a plank which see-sawed +slightly, and it amused her to make it move up and down. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't play the fool there, Joe," said Ferris sharply. +"This place is really not safe, you know. You and Mrs. +Gaunt had better creep out again. Come along, there's +nothing to see." +</P> + +<P> +He took her somewhat roughly by the arm. Her +weight, suddenly removed from the plank, caused Gerald, +who was at the further end, to stumble. He had been +balanced upon one foot, and the uneven nature of the +rocky floor gave him no place upon which to put the other +foot down. It went into a hollow, quite a foot in depth. +He gave a lurch, in the effort to reach the next plank, +which was not quite near, and came down with all his +weight upon one edge of it. It turned over, throwing +him completely off his balance. He staggered, slipped, +and before Joey had time to shriek, was over the edge of +the poisonous gulf and had disappeared. +</P> + +<P> +It all took place in a single instant. At one moment +Joey and he were balancing one each end of the board, +at the next Ferris had pulled her away, Gerald was +crashing and stamping in the vain effort to regain his +lost poise; and even as Ferris, hampered by the displaced +planks, sprang to help him he was gone, and the place +echoed to Joey's screams. +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt, whose back had been turned to the scene, sprang +up and realised instantly what had happened. In that +same instant, like a flash, he saw what he must do. His +chance had come to him, one in a thousand. In that same +heart-beat he knew that he did not want to go—that never +in all his existence had he loved life as he loved it now. +</P> + +<P> +There was, however, not a moment for delay. None +of the workmen were with them in the small cave; they +were alone. A few minutes' hesitation might be fatal +to the victim. Gaunt turned away from Virginia without +looking at her, moved rapidly along a plank, took the +rope which the workmen had left ready for a descent, +and began to fasten it to his own body. +</P> + +<P> +"Gaunt—no!" Ferris, who had stood for a moment +paralysed like a man distraught, without moving or +speaking, leapt at him. +</P> + +<P> +"He is dead; he must be. Don't fling away your life. +It's not only the bad air, it's the depth; these places go +down nobody knows how deep!" +</P> + +<P> +"One can but try," was the reply, as Gaunt completed +the swift knotting of the rope. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen to me!" he said, laying his hand upon the +shaking Percy's nerveless arm, and speaking quietly and +naturally with the intention of calming the other's hysteria. +"Summon the men—get another rope. If I find +him, I will signal by three tugs for you to pull him up. +Do you understand?" +</P> + +<P> +"Let—let one of the men go down," shrieked Ferris +wildly. +</P> + +<P> +"There isn't time. Virginia!" He raised his voice +a little, and the white, still girl started. +</P> + +<P> +"Crawl out at once and summon the men—as many +as you can. Then send Ransom with the car for Dr. +Dymock. Can you hear me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I am going." +</P> + +<P> +That was all. So he dismissed her, so he flung love +and life away from him out of the struggle. He sat +upon the edge of the hole, his electric torch fixed upon his +chest, the rope about his middle, and began to tie a handkerchief +over his mouth. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't go—don't go; he's dead by now. Oh, can't +somebody come? Help! Help!" cried Ferris distractedly. +"Your fault, confound you!" he shrieked to +the trembling, ashy Joey. +</P> + +<P> +"Silence, Ferris; I think he is calling!"... +</P> + +<P> +Percy's cries ceased abruptly, and in the sudden pause +a moan came up to them from the echoing depths. +</P> + +<P> +In another instant Gaunt had disappeared. +</P> + +<P> +The die was cast, and a curious peace descended upon +him. The pressure of the emergency held his brain to +the exclusion of all else. For the moment he had no regrets; +consciousness was bounded by the difficulties of his +descent. This was not nearly as awful as he had expected. +There was plenty of foothold, and he went down +rapidly, coming upon Gerald's body some time before he +thought it possible. +</P> + +<P> +Most providentially the victim had fallen upon the +bundle of hay which the workmen on the previous day +had set alight and thrown in to dispel the noxious gas. +The hole, at this point, was not very deep—not deeper +than a well, though further along the cleft he saw a +yawning gulf of unexplored horror and blackness. He +stooped over Rosenberg, who was still groaning and not +completely unconscious, though evidently much hurt. +</P> + +<P> +"If you can hear what I say, try to do as I tell you," +said he, speaking with great distinctness close to his ear. +"Can you sit up?" +</P> + +<P> +Gerald moved slightly, muttering something that +sounded like "Let me alone!" +</P> + +<P> +On that Gaunt saw that he had but one course. He +must not attempt to reach the surface with him. He +must transfer the rope from his own waist, and send up +the injured man first. +</P> + +<P> +He was still just capable of doing this, but he was +growing deadly sick and faint. With the feeling that +it was a race—a grim race between his failing faculties +and time—he detached the cord. He succeeded, after +what seemed to him like a protracted struggle, in fastening +the knots round Gerald securely. Now what must +he do? His brain was swimming, his breath came short, +but he knew there was something else. Yes, of course! +He must jerk the rope. Once—twice—thrice! He +did it and waited. +</P> + +<P> +Something was about to happen. He had forgotten +what it was. His mind was swimming aimlessly round, +like a fish in warm water, as he said to himself. He lay +down. Then the thing upon which he was leaning his +heavy head began to move; it was lifted; he tried to sit +up, grasping in his hands the hay upon which he was +crouched. The space was very narrow. Was it wide +enough to serve him for a—for a—one of those things +they use to bury the dead? +</P> + +<P> +It was his last thought. Immediately upon thinking +it he was asleep. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +"Fifty pounds to the man who brings him up!" cried +Virgie, kneeling upon the very brink. +</P> + +<P> +Gerald had been hauled up, dragged forth from the +cave, through the hole, hurried into the open air. He was +alive, and they thought he would recover. But the man +who had risked his life to save him lay still in the deadly +abyss. +</P> + +<P> +One of the workmen, however, speedily upon her appeal, +roped himself up. +</P> + +<P> +"Can't be very deep, 'm," he said consolingly. "If +I take two ropes with me, that'll be all right. We've +got a plenty hands now, and my mates can pull." +</P> + +<P> +He disappeared, and Virgie crouched there on the +brink, huddled and shivering, counting the terrible moments. +</P> + +<P> +As she knelt in the dark, dreadful place, full of booming, +terrifying noises, all life changed its values before +her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +This was a man who had a touch of greatness in him. +He made big mistakes; he was also capable of big heroism. +She knew in her heart that, if Gaunt had not been there, +if the accident had happened with only the Ferrises and +herself in the cave, the delay—while men were fetched +to do what her husband had immediately and simply done +himself—might have been, would have been, fatal. The +contrast between Percy, helplessly unnerved, and Gaunt, +ready to rise at once to the height of the moment, had +flashed itself upon her like an instantaneous photograph. +She had herself risen with Osbert. He had called her, +given her something to do—quiet, definite orders to carry +out. Without a question, she went and did his bidding, +though she was longing to break into cowardly pleading, +to cry out to him not to throw away his life. +</P> + +<P> +And she returned to find them all busy with Gerald, +and nobody apparently giving a thought to the man still +in the pit. +</P> + +<P> +She soon changed that. Her beauty, her distress, her +urgency, made stronger appeals to the men than her promise +of liberal reward. And now everything, everything, +hung upon the result—whether the man they brought to +the surface would be still alive or not. +</P> + +<P> +When the signal to draw up was given, she felt as +if each passing clock-tick were a year. The dread which +had sprung up in her, when she saw Gaunt hang brooding +over the chasm, could never be dispersed, if he were +dead. She would never know whether he truly wished +to die or whether life was sweet to him. +</P> + +<P> +How slowly they were hauling in the rope! How endlessly +long it seemed. +</P> + +<P> +Then, at last, she saw him drawn from the living tomb—limp, +inert, ghastly. She rose, though her knees would +hardly support her, and crawled to him as they undid the +rope from about him. +</P> + +<P> +The man who had gone down stood near, wiping the +sweat from his eyes, and reeling slightly on his feet. He +coughed, and spat, and seemed as if he would be sick. +"Just hell down there, 'm," he told her, apologetically. +"I'm afraid it's all over with him, God help you!" +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt was adrift upon a summer sea. The waves rose +and fell, with a lulling cadence. He felt only one desire—the +desire for sleep; but a perpetual calling kept him +perversely awake. When he reached the land he would, +he knew, attain perfect repose. He made an inquiry of +some unseen companion as to what was the name of the +land which they would reach. The answer to this was: +"They call it Virginia." +</P> + +<P> +This answer delighted him. Virginia! Country of +all joy and beauty. He was going to Virginia, if only +this summons would cease—if only some far away, disturbing +voice was not calling to him from infinite distance, +begging him to make some response. He tried to +plead that this voice might be silenced. But it grew +more and more insistent. He could not hear what it said, +but he knew that he was wanted. He might not drift +out into the peace he craved. He must stop, and answer, +and find out what was expected of him. He tried as hard +as he could to turn a deaf ear to the calling. He almost +succeeded, several times, in dropping off into real, sound +sleep. But just as he was sure that now he would be let +alone, something shook him, something interfered with +him; and there was a pulsing in his ear, terribly loud, +like the voice of a drum, so that one could not escape it. +</P> + +<P> +The calling went on. "Osbert! Osbert! I want +you! Do you hear me?" +</P> + +<P> +Quite suddenly his mind changed, and he knew that +it was of supreme importance that he should answer. +The difficulty lay in the manner of so doing. How can +one communicate with the beating of a drum? He +wished that he could explain how unreasonable it was +to expect any response from him. He heard right +enough, but how could he let anybody know that he heard, +with the sea lapping all about and the drum beating in +his ears?... +</P> + +<P> +Then came a curious sensation, touching a chord which +vibrated throughout his entire being. He remembered +quite long ago that he had been carrying a girl upstairs. +Her arms were round his neck, and her heart beat, beat, +against his ear. <i>Was</i> that noise the sound of a drum after +all, or was it the quick throbbing of a girl's heart? +</P> + +<P> +The moment this idea occurred, it was as though a door +had been unclosed, releasing him into the world of which +hitherto he had been unconscious. He heard somebody +saying: +</P> + +<P> +"Lay him down, Mrs. Gaunt, you had much better. +He will come round sooner if his head is quite flat." +</P> + +<P> +Another voice replied, very, very near him: "I tell +you I saw his lips move. All the time he was lying flat +he never moved, and directly I lifted him up he sighed. +There! Look! I tell you he is alive! I said he was! +I knew he would come back if I called!—Osbert! Osbert! +Can you hear?" +</P> + +<P> +Ah, now, indeed, it would be a grand thing had one the +means of letting other people, in other universes, know +one's thoughts! He knew he must obey the voice that +spoke, yet he was dumb, deaf, blind, because he was so +far off. He was sinking away again into the tempting +slumber that invited him, in spite of his ardent desire to +remain here, where he could be sensible to the beating that +was like the beating of a girl's heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, lift him again then," said a doubtful voice; +and once more he heard the drum, close to his ear. Now +it was urgent that he should let it be understood that +he knew what was going on. He must step over the edge +of the plane on which he moved, and come into that upon +which these others were moving; since it was clear that +they would not come to him. +</P> + +<P> +"There! I tell you it isn't fancy! He took quite a +long breath! Osbert, can you hear me? Open your eyes, +and then I shall know." +</P> + +<P> +"By Jove," said another voice, "his eyelids flickered +then. I saw it." +</P> + +<P> +"Go on calling him, Mrs. Gaunt. You're right, I believe, +it is the only way." +</P> + +<P> +"Another whiff of that oxygen!" +</P> + +<P> +Something like the wind of life swept through him. +With an immense effort he opened his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +All that he could see was Virgie's face as she stooped +over him. +</P> + +<P> +He knew—though how he could hardly say—that he +was lying in her arms. A keen air blew upon him, his +hand, which lay at his side, could feel short turf beneath +it. He was coming back—beginning to make use once +more of his outward senses. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know me?" she asked, bending over him. +Her eyes were full of an intense purpose; there was no +shyness, no consciousness—only a vehement desire. +</P> + +<P> +He took a long breath, gathered all his force, and whispered +huskily: +</P> + +<P> +"My—wife!" +</P> + +<P> +He saw the sweet face into which he gazed contract +pitifully, and the shoulders shake with sobbing. +</P> + +<P> +"There, there, that will do, Mrs. Gaunt," ordered Dr. +Dymock peremptorily. "He will be all right now. +You're utterly worn out. Lay him down and come +away." +</P> + +<P> +"Try—try first, if he will drink," she gasped, while +the heart against his ear functioned violently. +</P> + +<P> +He drank, for she told him that he must do so. Obviously +she had to be obeyed. Then they laid him down, +and raised her up, and took her away, out of his sight. +This was too much. He felt it to be an outrage, when he +had come back such a tremendous distance, just to be with +her. "Virginia," he said, quite clearly. +</P> + +<P> +Dymock bent towards him. "All right, old man, she +is close by. You shall go home with her quite soon. She +is a bit tired, that's all. You must try not to be inconsiderate." +</P> + +<P> +A vague smile dawned on Gaunt's face. He made +an effort or two, and finally achieved the repetition of +the doctor's term. "In-con-sid-erate," he murmured. +"That's—that's a word, isn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, a word. What did you expect?" asked the +doctor gently. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought I had done with words," sighed the patient, +lifting his eyes to the grey autumnal sky. +</P> + +<P> +"So did we all—all except your wife," was the reply. +"She was certain that you would revive, if she went on +calling you." +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt filled his lungs with the sharp air. The brandy +they had given him began to course in his veins. "Lift +me up," he said. +</P> + +<P> +Dr. Dymock raised him against his knee, and slowly, +as though it were something of a feat, he lifted his hand +and touched his forehead. Around him was the grassy +sloping of the Dale. Workmen's tools and sheds were +close by. At a distance were the two cars, in one of which +Joey Ferris was bending over some one. Memory returned +in a rolling flood. +</P> + +<P> +"Rosenberg. Is he alive?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes. Broken collar-bone, and I think a rib as +well, but I am not sure yet. A good many cuts and +bruises, but he'll do." +</P> + +<P> +"You ought to—set his bones?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, the delay is bad, but it was inevitable. With +you it was a matter of life and death. However, you +are all right now. Drink some more of this stuff, and +then you had better get home as fast as you can." +</P> + +<P> +Gaunt's eyes were fixed upon the figure of his wife, +sitting on a heap of stones not far off. Ferris was standing +awkwardly by, evidently trying to comfort her. Her +face was hidden and her handkerchief was held to her +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Virginia—Virginia's crying," he said in slow surprise. +"What for?" +</P> + +<P> +The doctor laughed. "Women are like that when it's +all over," was his reply. "Those are tears of joy. She +has been strung up to a high point, for I tell you candidly +that I think, had it not been for her persistence I +should have given you up about a quarter of an hour +ago, and gone to attend upon the man who is alive. But +she held on. Everybody else thought you were gone." +</P> + +<P> +"She mustn't cry," said Gaunt anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"She won't, now that she has got you back," was the +reply; and the doctor, after administering another drink, +smiled kindly and with meaning. "You are a lucky fellow, +Gaunt—you have your reward for your forbearance +with her last month. Do you remember I told you then +that if you had patience you would win her in the end? +Well, you did as I asked, and I was a true prophet, was I +not?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap29"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE MASTERY +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>I drew my window curtains, and instead<BR> + Of the used yesterday, there laughing stood<BR> + A new-born morning from the Infinite<BR> + Before my very face!</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Alexander Smith.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Gaunt's mind never retained any very clear image of +the rest of that day. His brain was still partially clouded +by the powerful poison which had entered his system. +As Dr. Dymock explained to Virginia, there was not only +CO_2, but actually the deadly CO itself present in the foul +shaft down which he had imperilled his life. CO, as she +was further instructed, gets into the blood, and milk and +liquid nourishment should be given for some hours, until +normal conditions gradually reappear. +</P> + +<P> +The wonderful strength of the patient's heart had enabled +him to rally from the toxic fumes, but the action +of that powerful organ was, nevertheless, distinctly depressed; +and he was content to pass the evening in his bed, +lying in a state of not unpleasant semi-consciousness, and +trying to adjust his ideas of what had happened. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor came round late that night to see how he +was. He had left his other patient fairly comfortable, +though the injury to the ribs was serious. The Ferrises +were being very kind and hospitable. They were only +too anxious to do all they could, since they blamed themselves +for the accident—Percy because he had not sufficiently +considered the danger of the place; Joey because +she had, as she herself expressed it, "got larking." Now +no trouble was too great for her to take. A nurse was +already installed, and there was no doubt that Gerald +would have every possible care and attention. +</P> + +<P> +Dr. Dymock was well satisfied with Gaunt's condition. +He said that a long night's rest would restore him to his +usual state, except for the fact that he must go carefully +for a few days. He advised him not to get up until about +eleven the following day—an order deeply resented by +the master of Omberleigh, who could not remember to +have breakfasted in bed in his life, except when his leg +was broken. It was, however, consoling to be told that +he would suffer no permanent effects at all from his awful +adventure. If one has to live, one would rather live +whole than maimed. +</P> + +<P> +He felt much himself when he descended the stairs +next day, and went, as Virginia had begged that he would, +to her own sitting-room. She was not there when he made +his appearance. He had a few minutes in which to realise +how her presence and her touch permeated the place and +made it hers. She came running along the terrace very +soon, her hands full of spiky dahlias, orange, scarlet, yellow +and copper coloured. Entering through the window, +she gave him a cheery greeting, pulling off her gardening +gloves and apron and laying down her flowers on a +table. +</P> + +<P> +He sat watching her with a curious intentness, feeling +as if the handling of the situation were with her, waiting +for some cue as to the attitude he was expected to adopt. +</P> + +<P> +It was not for two or three minutes that he realised +that she was in precisely his own case. Her nervousness +was very palpable. She coloured finely when for a moment +she met his eyes, and went eagerly to ring the bell +for the soup and wine which she had ordered for him. +It came, almost before he had had time to object. When +it was set before him, he did succeed, however, in voicing a +protest. How could he be expected to eat like this, at +odd hours? "I've had breakfast," he urged. +</P> + +<P> +"But you must get up your strength," she told him, +with serious solicitude. "Dr. Dymock told me to be sure +that you did; and you have had nothing solid since yesterday. +Do try and eat it." +</P> + +<P> +As he still hesitated, she sat down beside him, and +took the cup of soup in her hands, proffering it. "There +was once a man," she said gravely, "and his wife couldn't +eat any breakfast. So he stood over her with threats until +she did." +</P> + +<P> +He winced, and bit his lip. "Don't joke about it"—hurriedly. +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" she asked, deliberately provocative. "It +<i>is</i> a joke now, since it has ceased to hurt me." +</P> + +<P> +"But it will never cease to humiliate me," he muttered. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, perhaps that is good for you," was the mischievous +suggestion; and to cover his confusion he was +fain to take the cup of soup and drink it, she watching +with a glance of covert triumph. She would not let him +off until he had eaten and drunk all that was on the +tray, which she then carried to a distant table. +</P> + +<P> +He watched her as she returned, work-bag in hand, +seating herself upon a high stool, or bunch of cushions +which stood near the hearth. She drew out her bit of +embroidery, using it obviously as a refuge for eyes and +hands. He leaned forward, and sat, chin cupped in palm, +watching her. +</P> + +<P> +"Must one be a little unwell in order to secure your +sympathy and attention, Virginia?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sick people need taking care of"—with a laugh and +a blush—"and I like taking care of people. I always +did." +</P> + +<P> +He made no immediate reply, for he was meditating a +plunge. She clung to her work as to a raft in a tumbling +sea. +</P> + +<P> +"I was very sick yesterday," he remarked at length. +</P> + +<P> +"For a long time they said you were—dead," she +almost whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish they had been right. It would have been +better. Virginia! <i>Why did you call me back?</i>" +</P> + +<P> +She turned pale. Her work fell upon her knee. +"Then I was right!" she muttered. "I suspected, I +knew it really! You had some idea of throwing yourself +down that place and pretending it was an accident!" +</P> + +<P> +He sat still, without denying it. +</P> + +<P> +"You wanted to die!" she repeated, accusing him. +"You wanted to kill yourself! But why? Osbert, you +have got to tell me why." +</P> + +<P> +"You know why well enough. To undo the harm I +have done you. To set you free." +</P> + +<P> +"Then," she pursued swiftly, "I suppose I am right +in my other suspicion, too? You don't want me here! +You married me, not because you loved me or wanted +me, but to be revenged upon mother through me.... +And now that you find you are too soft-hearted—or that +you have ceased to think that I deserve punishment—you +want to get rid of me! But surely there are other ways +to do that! You needn't kill yourself! If you don't +want me, I can go?... Why did you make such a point +of my coming back if—if——" +</P> + +<P> +He made a sound of speechless scorn; but he had turned +pale. Clearly this view of the question took him aback. +"Of course you know that you are talking nonsense," he +said at last. +</P> + +<P> +She was now too much roused to feel nervous. "You +call it nonsense," said she, "but if those are your feelings——" +</P> + +<P> +"My feelings!" he broke in. "You know it's not a +question of that at all, but of your happiness. But if my +feelings must be dragged in—if you will have it so—why, +use your own sense for a moment! Look at yourself +and then look at me! How can any future together +be possible? Think of how I have treated you, and how +you have requited me! You see the hopelessness of it +all.... Child, you made your first mistake yesterday. +You should have let me die quietly. It didn't hurt a bit, +and I was not loath. I was slipping away so easily, it +seemed far less trouble to go on than to come back. +Nothing but your voice could have compelled me. And, +if you had let me go, what a future for you! A few weeks +bother, perhaps—and perhaps even a little regret. Then +freedom. You would have been set at liberty, as you once +told me you longed to be! And <i>clean</i>, Virginia, as you +also wished! You would have been rich, you might have +sent for Pansy, for Tony, for mother! Nothing of mine +would have remained but the name you bear, and that you +would have changed so soon! And you would have +thought kindly of me in the end, because the last thing I +did was to bring your lover back to you." +</P> + +<P> +She drew herself up and gazed upon him with scarlet +face and eyes brimming with indignant tears. "<i>My +lover!</i> What have I done that you should speak so to +me? You know very well that I have no lover," she +said. +</P> + +<P> +He could see that she was deeply wounded. "I don't +understand you a bit," she cried, pushing all her work +to the ground, and leaning her forehead on her hands. +"When I came back, you seemed so glad—really glad. +I hoped ... we might be friends. But what could +I do? You didn't like me even to take your hand. If +you would really rather have died, of course I am sorry +I interfered. I didn't stop to think. It seemed too important, +there was only time to act.... I just felt that +I—I couldn't let you die like that!" her voice sank away +till the concluding words were half inaudible. +</P> + +<P> +"But why not?" he urged, "why could you not? +That is the whole point, don't you see?" +</P> + +<P> +She raised her tearful eyes and looked at him as though +he were a riddle she could not read. Then, without speaking, +she rose, went to her little work-table, opened it and +took out a package. She laid it upon his knee, returning +to her own seat. "That was why," she said. +</P> + +<P> +His colour rose. "You found that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Dr. Dymock tore open your shirt to make sure +whether there was any perceptible movement of the heart. +He pulled this out of the—the inner pocket in your shirt, +and flung it on the grass. I snatched it up, so that nobody +should pry into your private affairs; and then, of course, +I could not help seeing that they are—my letters." +</P> + +<P> +She added, as he held the package doubtfully, and said +no word: "You see I cannot make things fit together in +my mind. If you wanted to be rid of me, why should +you keep my letters—<i>there</i>?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, since you have discovered my folly, I had better +make a clean breast of it. After all, you have a right +to know. It must sound pretty ridiculous, but I suppose +that even monsters fall in love. Caliban himself had the +taste to desire Miranda, which is horrible and revolting. +However, that is what has happened to me.... During +all the days of your absence, my heart was in the post-bag. +Every letter you wrote is here, hoarded like a miser's +gold." He slipped the elastic band which held them, and +smiled wryly as he showed the worn corners of the paper. +"I studied these, and you in them," he went on hurriedly. +"I learned each day more of your honesty, your scrupulous +accuracy, your economy in spending money which was, as +you thought, not your own!... Virginia, in my youth +your mother wrote me pages of love-letters! The whole +of them were not worth one line of this unconscious self-revelation +of yours.... You marvellous creature! +How you managed to spend so little is what puzzles me. +And Tony, too! Yes, old Grover let that out. Were <i>you</i> +paying for Tony? And if so, from what fund did his +expenses come?" +</P> + +<P> +His tone had changed insensibly from tense emotion +to frank interest. He raised his head, interrogating her +with a look which was almost a smile. She responded +eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I managed that quite easily, out of my own allowance. +It cost so little! I only paid ten shillings a +week for his small top-floor bedroom. Then I paid in +ten shillings a week to the board money, and that was +all, except his railway journey. You see, I could not +send him back to Wayhurst, he would have been so miserable, +all alone in the house, poor darling. It would have +been hard for him, would it not? When we were all at +the sea, and he had not seen the sea for so long! It did +him so much good, he enjoyed it all so hugely." ... +She forgot her own affairs and his in the glow of her sisterly +affection. He smiled upon her a little sadly. +</P> + +<P> +"But you must be penniless yourself?" he said. +"Surely your private account is overdrawn?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, <i>no</i>, Osbert! You forget how much you gave +me and how little I am used to make do with! I +have not wanted anything, and I have quite a big balance——" +</P> + +<P> +"You have a positive genius for sacrifice," he said, laying +aside the packet of letters, and studying her. "You +would give up everything for Pansy, for Tony, for +mother. And now—it being, from your point of view, +your duty—you are ready to make the final act of self-abnegation, +to sacrifice yourself for Osbert, too?" +</P> + +<P> +His voice had changed. It seemed as if he strove to +keep to his old ironic note; but some other force throbbed +in his undertone, and it affected Virginia strangely. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I am. I promised," she assured him instantly, +raising her sweet, puzzled eyes to his tense face. +</P> + +<P> +He gave a laugh which startled her, tossed the package +of letters upon the table, rose, and went to the window. +</P> + +<P> +"And are you so ignorant of the meaning of things +that you think, after the confession I have just made, that +this will satisfy me?" he flung over his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +She rose too. "I—I don't think I understand," she +faltered. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm only a man, just a human man. I want love," +he blurted out, his face still averted. +</P> + +<P> +"But isn't that love?" she wondered, as though thinking +out a problem aloud for herself. "You are ready to +sacrifice everything for me—even your life—because +you love me. I am ready to sacrifice—I mean, to do +and be what you would have me do and be. Isn't that +love?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, it isn't," he bluntly answered. +</P> + +<P> +She grew pale, and twisted her hands tightly together. +"Then—then what is it?" she breathed. +</P> + +<P> +Taking no notice of her, he came back to the hearth +and rang the bell. Having done so, he remained with +one hand on the mantel and one foot on the fender, gazing +at the fire, ignoring, as it seemed, her very presence. +</P> + +<P> +"Hemming," said he, when his summons was answered, +"will you please bring back the statue and the pedestal +which I told you to take away the night Mrs. Gaunt returned?" +</P> + +<P> +The man departed, reappearing in a minute, with one +of the other servants, and bringing in first a shaft of black +marble, and then a dazzling white figure. They set up +both pedestal and statue, in the open space in the centre +of the bay window recess. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia had seated herself when she heard the mysterious +order given. Gaunt remained silent until the +servants had left the room. +</P> + +<P> +Then he moved slowly away from the fire. +</P> + +<P> +"Come and look at it," he said. +</P> + +<P> +Virginia rose, much puzzled, and went to him. They +stood side by side contemplating the delicate thing. For +a while she was at a loss. Then her eye fell upon the inscription +which ran around the base of the figure: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<i>Qui que tu sois, voici ton maître!</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Then the colour rushed to her face, for she remembered. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! Where did you get it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I had it made. I thought it would complete the +room." +</P> + +<P> +She stood in the sunlight, which poured through the +window, and made a glory of her hair. Many thoughts +flowed about her, many memories. Yet as he watched her +narrowly, hungrily, he could see that these memories were +not bitter. +</P> + +<P> +"How little I knew about it! How little I understood—then," +she murmured presently. +</P> + +<P> +"Little blind girl, you understand no better now," said +Gaunt. +</P> + +<P> +She lifted to him a solemn gaze. "Osbert, are you +sure?" +</P> + +<P> +He put out his hands and gently turned her so that +she stood facing him. "Do you suppose that, loving you +as I do, I could bear to take you in my arms when I knew +that you were fighting your natural inclination in order +not to flinch from my touch?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +She sighed, as if she felt that he was trying her too +hard, but she made no attempt to shake off his light hold. +Through her thin sleeves she felt the warmth of his hands. +She felt, too, the slight vibration which, now that she understood, +indicated to her the curb that he was using. +Suddenly she gave a little gasping laugh, flashing a glance +up at him. +</P> + +<P> +"Osbert, if you know all about it, tell me—how does +one fall in love?" +</P> + +<P> +"How?" he stammered, for a moment at a loss. +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you show me this?" she whispered, moving +the least bit nearer to him, as she indicated the statue. +"You mean me to see that love is—is a thing that masters +you?" +</P> + +<P> +He signified assent without speech. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, well, master me, then! <i>Make me understand!</i>" +</P> + +<P> +He loosed her arms, to stretch out his own. With them +thus, almost encircling her, but not touching her, he +paused, searching her downbent face. "But the risk," he +cried, "you might hate me!... And even this—even +what I have endured since you came back to me, would +be better than have you loathe me." +</P> + +<P> +"You can but try," she managed to stammer, with +broken voice; and the words were stifled upon her lips by +the pressure of his own, as he snatched her to his heart. +</P> + +<P> +This once only was his thought. This once, if never +again! This once, even though she were merely passive, +for such invitation could not be foregone. Nay, he must +have yielded, even in face of her resistance ... but she +did not resist. She lay at first passive in his hold, while +he covered her face, her hair with kisses.... Then, when +once more he touched her mouth, he could feel her response. +She answered his lips with the free gift of her +own. She gave him kiss for kiss ... and time slid out +of sight for a while. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +His first coherent words were something like these: +</P> + +<P> +"But it can't be. How could it be? How could any +woman forgive what I made you endure? Even if I were +an attractive man, instead of a lame bear." +</P> + +<P> +They were sitting side by side upon the Chesterfield, +and as he spoke, Virginia raised her head from his shoulder +and contemplated him. +</P> + +<P> +"It is curious," she replied, in tones of candid wonder, +"but you know I always thought somehow that this might +be. Only things were so strange afterwards, I never +could be sure." +</P> + +<P> +"That sounds a bit cryptic," he commented, amused. +"Can you explain?" +</P> + +<P> +She smiled with something like mischief. "Are you +still certain that you know all about it and I nothing?" +</P> + +<P> +"All about what, in the name of all the elves?" +</P> + +<P> +"About falling in love." +</P> + +<P> +"I know nothing at all about it, except as a man who +has tumbled down a precipice knows that he is down." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I rather think that I am better informed. Shall +I try to tell you about it? Quite a long story. I must be +careful not to 'prattle.' Ah, Osbert, don't look so! You +must let me tease." +</P> + +<P> +"Every time you stab me in the back like that you will +have to pay for it in kisses." +</P> + +<P> +"If that's so, I must be careful. But let me begin at +the beginning. That fatal day at Hertford House, when +you followed us about, your face made a queer impression +upon me. I don't mean that I liked it—I didn't, so you +need not begin to plume yourself. It was simply that I +could not forget it. You had done something to me, +though we barely spoke. All the rest of the day, and +even when I was at the theatre that evening, the memory +of your face, and specially of your eyes, kept swimming +into my fancy. When I went to bed I dreamed of you. +The shocking part is now to come. Perhaps you won't +believe it. <i>I dreamed exactly what has just happened.</i> +I thought we were standing just beside this statue, only, +of course, in my dream we were in the Gallery; and at +the time I wondered how it was that I could see a garden +outside, through the window, you said: 'I am quite a +stranger, but may I kiss you?' I answered, 'Remember +that if you do, it can never be undone.' Then you—you +did." +</P> + +<P> +"I did?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; and, in the dream, <i>I liked it!</i>" +</P> + +<P> +"Virgie!" +</P> + +<P> +"It's true. When I awoke, of course, I just thought +it was absurd and silly, as dreams are. But I could not +forget it. The dream haunted me, as your face had +haunted me. When mother came home from meeting you +in town, and told me that you were the man in the Gallery, +and that you wanted to marry me, I was such a conceited +pussy-cat that after the first surprise I thought it really +probable that you had fallen in love at first sight." +</P> + +<P> +"Is it possible?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, don't make any mistake. I would not have +dreamed of saying 'Yes' if I had not been so beaten down +and driven into a corner. But I do think the dream +turned the scale. I said to mother that, if, when you +came, you turned out to be a person whom I felt I could +never like, I should refuse. Then you came. I kept +thinking of the ridiculous dream all the time; and when +you mentioned the statue—do you remember?—I +actually thought that you must have dreamed the same +thing. I felt as if you were talking a language that you +and I understood: as if you knew that you could convey a +secret meaning to me—a message—without words. Oh, +it is so difficult to explain, but I felt that——" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes? For pity's sake go on!" +</P> + +<P> +"As if one day I might come to like you very much." +</P> + +<P> +"As much as this?" he whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I never thought—I never imagined, <i>this</i>." +</P> + +<P> +There was a little silence. +</P> + +<P> +"And then," he sighed at last, "into the midst of your +timid, hopeful sweetness, fell the bomb-shell of my +brutality." +</P> + +<P> +She laughed as in scorn at herself. "It <i>was</i> unexpected," +she owned. "I was so sure that you wanted to +make love to me and didn't know how to begin. And I +was so afraid of you, and growing more and more so +every minute. Oh, Osbert, I <i>did</i> suffer." +</P> + +<P> +"Not as I did, for there was no remorse in your agony +of mind." +</P> + +<P> +"But there was. I thought I had done so wrong to +marry you." +</P> + +<P> +"And I—the moment I read your letter to Pansy, and +hers to you, I knew what I had done. I wanted to tell +you, but how could I? All one night I wandered about in +the rain——" +</P> + +<P> +"It was the very night, I believe, that I had my second +dream. In that, you came and spoke to me quite kindly +and tenderly. You said: 'All that is happening now +is the dream. Those kisses that I once gave you are the +reality.' I awoke, feeling so happy and all excited inside—do +you know the feeling? It was dreadful to find it +just a dream. Ah, I was miserable, what with the torment +of Pansy being so ill ... and if I had but known +it, you were longing to comfort me!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," he muttered, "but I did feel abject! I could +have crawled to your foot and begged you to set it on my +head." +</P> + +<P> +"I am glad you did not. I like you much better as +you are now—fresh from a deed of heroism which will +make the whole county buzz with your name for weeks +to come." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, great Scott!" in sudden consternation, "I never +thought of that!" +</P> + +<P> +"Shall you grudge me my celebrated husband?" +</P> + +<P> +He laughed audibly, a thing so rare that the very sound +thrilled her. "You are too adorable! It can't be true! +I shall awake." ... +</P> + +<P> +"Did you ever dream about me?" she whispered when +again he released her. +</P> + +<P> +"Night after night. I was always just on the point +of making you understand, but it never came off." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I dreamed of you one more time. That makes +three. It was at Worthing, just before I came back to +you, and I thought I was searching for you everywhere, +all about this house. I told you part of it the other day—about +my dreaming of the alterations in this room. +But I didn't tell you how it went on. I wandered out +into the garden, and presently you came to me, out of a +thick mist, and your eyes were shut. You looked just +as you did yesterday——" +</P> + +<P> +"When I came back to you out of the mists of death!" +</P> + +<P> +She gave a long sigh. "How wonderful!... Of +course, I did not understand the dream, or put any meaning +to it. But you were speaking as you came with your +eyes shut, and you said, 'She will never come back. Are +you coming? No!' ... When I awoke I knew that I +must go to you at once. I knew that I had lingered too +long, and that there must be no more delay. But, oh, I +was afraid!—I was so desperately afraid!" +</P> + +<P> +He told her of the dreadful day of her return, when +he had ridden to sessions in the miserable conviction that +he had lost her altogether; and how Ferris had told him +of her adventures with young Rosenberg. +</P> + +<P> +"I got home that night absolutely convinced that it was +all over," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" She turned suddenly and clung to him of +her own accord. "And yesterday I thought that all was +over, too. It happened so fast; yet it seemed to take +years and years. I can't tell you how many thoughts I +had, while you turned round from tying up my shoe.... +You knew, didn't you, that the shoe was just an excuse +to coax you away from the brink of the chasm?" +</P> + +<P> +"I wondered." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I could see that you wondered, and just as I +was casting about in my mind to think what I could say, +I heard Joey scream!... Then all in a moment, I knew +what would happen. I saw your face set ... and you +looked at me, just for one second, a look that seemed to +set me on fire. I could have shrieked out in my desperation, +but I knew I must not say a word to stop you. +I knew you would go down, and that every moment was +precious.... Osbert, there, in that awful cave, in those +few seconds, I grew up. I saw what might be, and I saw +that I was going to lose it. I felt as if all my life I had +foreseen that this was going to happen to me, and that I +never would be able to tell you——" +</P> + +<P> +"To tell me what?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, just this! What I <i>am</i> telling you!" +</P> + +<P> +Thereafter, soft laughter, and more kisses. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap30"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE ESCAPE +</H4> + +<P CLASS="intro"> + "<i>I am the most wise Baviaan, saying in most wise tones:<BR> + 'Let us melt into the landscape—just us two by our lones.—<BR> + People have come in a carriage—calling!...<BR> + Here's your boots—I've brought 'em—and here's your cap and stick,<BR> + And here's your pipe and tobacco. Oh, come along out of it—quick!</i>"—<SPAN CLASS="scap">Kipling.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +They were pledged to dine at the Chase that night, and +had no reasonable excuse for failing to fulfil their engagement. +They went accordingly, and Virginia donned +for the first time bridal white satin and lace. +</P> + +<P> +Osbert came in from his room when she was nearly +ready, his hands full of leather cases, and proceeded to +array her in what she considered a most outrageous excess +of diamonds. She was loath to spoil his pleasure, and so +consented to wear them, to the immense satisfaction of +Grover. +</P> + +<P> +When they arrived at the Chase she had to own that +Osbert had been wiser than she, for although Lady St. +Aukmund called it a "quite informal dinner," they found +a party of twenty, including most of the county set. +Their entrance was the signal for an ovation for which +they had both been unprepared. Osbert's heroism was +already known, it appeared, to everybody present; and the +attention he received so overwhelmed him that his wife +was in dread lest he should retire into his shell and scowl +upon his admirers in what the daring girl already described +as "his old, bad manner." +</P> + +<P> +However, in response to her wireless telegraphy, he +acquitted himself quite creditably, and found himself able +not merely to endure but to glory in the chorus of congratulation +which he was called upon to receive after the +withdrawal of the ladies from table. Now that he knew +himself to be, by some miracle of grace which he did not +profess to be able to understand, in possession of Virginia's +heart, he was free to exult in the praise of her loveliness +and charm which was universally expressed. +</P> + +<P> +But when it was over, and the car was carrying them +swiftly homeward through a moonless night—when he +drew her into his arms and held her there, still half-incredulous +of his own bliss—his first words were: +</P> + +<P> +"I say, Virgie, let us bolt—shan't we, darling?" +</P> + +<P> +"Bolt?" she questioned, puzzled. +</P> + +<P> +"Get away from everybody—just you and I together. +Let us set out upon our honeymoon. We'll go to the +Riviera—or to Rome. Would you like that?" +</P> + +<P> +There was a second's pause before she replied—just +time for a tiny doubt to stab him. Then she answered +low: "Yes, I <i>should</i> like it. Let us go! How strange +that I should feel so! But I do!" +</P> + +<P> +"Thank God!" he said with a gasp. "But quite +alone, Virgie? Can you do without Grover?" +</P> + +<P> +"But of course, silly! I am accustomed to do without +a maid——" +</P> + +<P> +"Then we'll be off, all unbeknown! I can't stand it, +you know, all this act-of-heroism business. It turns me +sick! And there'll be Rosenberg calling me his preserver, +or some other bad name like that. We can get to London +to-morrow, and I will give orders for them to dismantle +the house and redecorate while we are away. Isn't that a +good scheme?" +</P> + +<P> +She thought it excellent, and approved so warmly that +he went on glibly: +</P> + +<P> +"We will buy anything we want in London, and settle +a route when we are there. Caunter is quite fit to be left +in charge of the place; and I had all the designs prepared +by the man who did your room, so you have only to approve +and they can get to work." +</P> + +<P> +"If I were talking to Tony, I would say that it is ripping!" +</P> + +<P> +"Then say so to me. Say anything to me. Don't, for +pity's sake, be shy of me, Virgie." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll try not. But you must own that you are rather +formidable, are you not?" +</P> + +<P> +"You ought to be punished for saying so." +</P> + +<P> +"There! You see, you are still a tyrant, disguise it +how you may!" +</P> + +<P> +"Virgie, there is just one thing I am dying to know. +May I ask?" +</P> + +<P> +"You may ask; but whether I shall tell you——" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it's just this. Did Rosenberg make love to you +that day you went motoring with him?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, certainly not! He has never made love to +me." +</P> + +<P> +"Honestly, my sweet, he does admire you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I used to think so. He tried to make me think that +he was heart-broken the first time we met in Queen Anne +Street. But nothing more than that." +</P> + +<P> +"He seems to have managed very badly." +</P> + +<P> +"He managed so badly that I felt more vexed with him +than I could have thought possible. He had no right to +be so careless of me that day at Bignor. I was in his +charge and he put me in a very uncomfortable position. +I have not forgiven him. I don't feel the same towards +him as I did." +</P> + +<P> +Her voice was quietly judicial, her manner wholly natural. +Gaunt could not but realise that here was no rival +to be feared. +</P> + +<P> +"You liked him once, though?" he went on, to make +himself doubly sure. +</P> + +<P> +"What—before I was married? Yes, I suppose I +did. I thought I did. It was just a delightful experience +to feel that he thought me pretty. By the way, do +you think me pretty, Osbert?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought not. But I am, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"Little peacock! You should have heard what everybody +was saying of you when you went out of the dining-room +to-night! These absurd ears must have been quite +hot! How stunning you looked in the diamonds! I am +glad I made you wear them.... It is a curious thing +that, since I first saw you, you have altered completely. +I used to think you were like your mother, and now——" +</P> + +<P> +She broke in eagerly. "So have you! How odd! +You are quite, quite different from what you used to be. +Ever so much nicer!" +</P> + +<P> +"You won't leave off loving me because I am no longer +morose and miserable?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, for I am vain enough to believe that, if I ceased +to love you, you might again become morose and miserable." +</P> + +<P> +"What have you done to me, Virgie?" he whispered +vehemently. +</P> + +<P> +"Turned the Beast into a Prince, that's all," she +laughed, her cheek close-pressed to his. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors was hopelessly bored. Worthing without +Gerald or Virgie was simply too dull a hole. It +needed but the news of Gerald's accident to make her +feel that her sojourn by the southern shore was unendurable. +Here was Virgie, her beloved child, who had +travelled in a totally unfit state of health for a journey, +and must now be very ill, since no word had come from +her for three days! And here was Gerald, laid up close +by, at the Ferrises, longing for some one to cheer him and +talk to him in a congenial fashion. +</P> + +<P> +If she travelled to Derbyshire she could gratify her +maternal anxiety and her wish to see poor dear Gerald, +both at the same time. It struck her as the best plan not +to announce her forthcoming arrival. Gaunt was an unspeakable +brute, a thorough boor, and would refuse to +receive her if she gave him half a chance. But if she +arrived <i>à l'improviste</i>, with the plea of irresistible maternal +solicitude, he could not have his door shut in her face. +Besides, such a move would put an end, once and for all, +to his intolerable attitude towards herself. +</P> + +<P> +Virgie, by flying in the face of her mother's wishes +and going back to him, had, of course, settled her own +fate. She had insisted upon returning, and now she must +stay. It would be a pretty state of affairs indeed if it +should get about that Gaunt declined to receive his mother-in-law. +Seeing that for her to exist upon the pittance +provided was out of the question, she must spend about +three months in every year at Omberleigh; and this was +most evidently the moment to make a definite coup and +show Osbert that she meant to stand no nonsense. To +have her in the house would give her poor child courage +to stand up to the tyrant. She would soon mend his +manners for him, if she once found herself established +under his roof. +</P> + +<P> +It was a wild, cold, stormy afternoon when she alighted +at the station; and upon learning the distance to the +house and the price demanded by the fly-driver for the +journey, she rather regretted her decision to come unannounced. +However, there was no help for it, so she and +her luggage were placed in and upon the vehicle, and they +trundled off in the fast-falling, gusty rain. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt, since the acquisition of the car, +had made use of Derby as their point of departure. Thus, +at the local station, nobody was able to tell Mrs. Mynors +that they were away. +</P> + +<P> +She thought she had never seen more desolate country +than that which they presently traversed. It seemed to +her that they had driven for hours when at last they came +to a lodge and a drive gate, blocked by a great cart full +of bricks. +</P> + +<P> +A young man in riding clothes was standing by the +roadside and addressing vigorous reproof to the driver +of the cart, who had knocked against the gate-post with +his wheel. This young man stared in mute astonishment +at sight of the carriage from the station, and the lady +with two or three large trunks. He said nothing, however, +and after some delay they passed through and on, +along the now almost pitch-dark avenue. +</P> + +<P> +In the centre of the gravel sweep was a place where +they were mixing mortar. The men were just striking +work for the day, and upon the front doorsteps sacking +had been laid down. Within was a scene of the utmost +confusion—partially stripped walls, canvas-covered floor, +heaps of boards, tubs and trestles. +</P> + +<P> +"Good gracious!" ejaculated the visitor in horror. +"Is this what my child is called upon to put up with?" +</P> + +<P> +The driver descended and rang a jangling peal upon +the bell. After some delay, Hemming, in a linen coat, +with a green baize apron, came in astonishment to the +door. +</P> + +<P> +"Is Mrs. Gaunt at home?" demanded the lady regally. +</P> + +<P> +"No, ma'am, she is not." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Gaunt, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, ma'am; they are both away—and likely to be +for some time to come." +</P> + +<P> +"Away? Do you mean that they will not be home +any time to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not for some weeks, ma'am, as I understood. They +talk of being home for Christmas," said Hemming mildly, +gazing with apprehension at the driver, who showed signs +of being about to unload the trunks. +</P> + +<P> +"You must be misinforming me. I am Mrs. Gaunt's +mother. Had they been leaving home, I should certainly +have been made aware of their plans. I insist upon coming +in. I believe that Mr. Gaunt has given you instructions +to say they are not at home to visitors, but that will +not apply to me." +</P> + +<P> +"I assure you, ma'am, that Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt left +on Monday for the continong—what part I do not as yet +know." +</P> + +<P> +"Did Mrs. Gaunt take Grover with her?" +</P> + +<P> +"She did not, ma'am. Perhaps you would like to see +Miss Grover?" +</P> + +<P> +"Send her to me at once," was the reply, while the +speaker's heart swelled with resentment. He had taken +Virgie away, somewhere out of reach, out of touch with +those who loved her! What might she not be enduring? +</P> + +<P> +Grover presently came along the dismantled hall. She +wore an expression of complacency which made Mrs. +Mynors feel ready to strike the woman. +</P> + +<P> +"I come here," she began, "to see how my poor daughter +is, and I find she has been hurried away, nobody knows +where. What information can you give me?" +</P> + +<P> +Grover wiped her hands upon her apron doubtfully. +Evidently she had been engaged upon the work of packing +up the house ready for the onslaught of the British workman. +</P> + +<P> +"Dear me, ma'am, what a pity you didn't send a wire +to say you was coming! I could have saved you the +trouble," said Grover. "Mrs. Gaunt is very well indeed, +and Mr. Gaunt and she is gone off upon their honeymoon, +ma'am. I daresay they'll be away a couple of months." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose I may at least claim shelter for the night +in my daughter's house?" demanded Mrs. Mynors with +a voice which shook with mortification. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, ma'am, I don't hardly know where we could +put you," was the meek reply. "The whole house is +upset, for it is to be redecorated from top to bottom. I +do really think, ma'am, that you would be more comfortable +at the station hotel. We are all upside down, as you +can see." She turned to the butler. "Hemming," said +she, "wouldn't it be better if you was to pay the driver +and let him go? Then we can give Mrs. Mynors a cup +of tea, as I know Mrs. Gaunt would wish, and send her +down to Derby in the car, to catch the late express to +town. Wouldn't that be best, ma'am?" As Mrs. Mynors +hesitated, she added: "There's but one room in the house +fit for you to sit down in, and that is Mrs. Gaunt's +boodwor. I have been so busy helping above stairs, I +haven't had a minute yet to pack it up. This way, +ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +Feeling that opposition was useless, Mrs. Mynors picked +her dainty way along the hall, while Hemming paid off the +fly-driver and lifted the trunks into the entrance, out of +the rain. Grover, as she went, kept up a running fire of +information. +</P> + +<P> +"A dark passage, ma'am, but you will see a great difference +when the alterations are made. A window is to +be knocked through here, and the bushes outside cleared +away, and a bit of a Dutch garden put in, so Mrs. Gaunt +tells me. This is her own room, ma'am, that Mr. Gaunt +had done up for a surprise for her when she come home. +She was pleased, too. I never see her so delighted, pretty +dear." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors walked in. The last ray of sunshine +slanted over the wide landscape without, and gilded the +delicate colouring of the room. She stood there, noting +every detail. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you could have seen her, ma'am, the night +before they started off," purred Grover. "Lady St. Aukmund, +she give a dinner-party in her honour, and Mr. +Gaunt had had all the family jools re-set. She wore +white satin, ma'am, and with the diamonds and all she +did look a perfect picture. We heard afterwards as all +the county was talking about her. Mr. Gaunt, it's pretty +to see how proud he is of her. But it is but natural they +should want to be by themselves a bit at first. Everybody +is talking about Mr. Gaunt's courage, the way he +went down the mine after that young Mr. Rosenberg! +There! It was a fine deed, wasn't it, ma'am? Sit down, +I will bring you some tea directly." +</P> + +<P> +She left the room, and Virginia's mother, her mouth +set in hard lines, stood gazing about her. She thought +of Osbert as she first remembered him, in his impetuous +youth. What magic wand had touched him now, raising +up love and youth from their ashes? Was he indeed +lavishing upon Virgie—Virgie, her little girl, her willing +drudge, to whom she had deputed all disagreeable +duties—the torrent of devotion which she might once +have had? +</P> + +<P> +Very sincerely at that moment did she repent her own +inconstancy. Had she had the courage to stick to Osbert, +her fidelity would have been rewarded quite soon. He +was not as rich a man as Bernard had been when first +they married—at least, she supposed not. Yet she +knew that with him for a husband she would never have +been suffered to dissipate a fortune. His strong hand +would have been over her. She would have been governed +instead of governing. +</P> + +<P> +She stood in the window and turned her eyes upon the +delicate statue of Love. Idly she read the inscription +around its base. Then her eye caught a little brass plate +affixed to the black marble shaft near the top. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> + <i>O.G. V.O. JUNE 30th, 19—</i><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It was the date of their first meeting. +</P> + +<P> +She was still contemplating this, in profound reflection, +when Grover came back with the tea. +</P> + +<P> +"You must excuse deficiencies, ma'am. Hemming +have locked up pretty near all the silver; with so many +workmen about you need eyes in the back of your head. +Was you looking at the statue, ma'am? Mr. Gaunt had +it made, so Mrs. Gaunt tells me, to commemorate their +first meeting. As I daresay you know, ma'am, it was +love at first sight with him. And who can wonder? +Well, he deserves to be happy, doesn't he? For he risked +all his future, and hers, to save that young man. They +say he was as near dead as anybody could be, to come back +at all; but Mrs. Gaunt, she wouldn't let them give up. +</P> + +<P> +"She sat there, so Ransom tells me, holding his head, +nursing him in her arms as she sat on the grass, and calling +to him, so pitiful, there was hardly a dry eye, ma'am, +for every one thought she was speaking to a dead man. +Then, when his eyelids flickered, it seemed like a miracle. +So at last he opens his eyes, and, 'Do you know me?' she +says. And he answers very low, but you could hear it all +right: '<i>My wife!</i>' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"Just fancy, ma'am! And with that she broke down, +and cried till they couldn't stop her, with the sudden relief. +More than two hours she had been crouching there, +cramped up on the ground." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Mynors was too interested even to feign indifference. +She made Grover give her all the details of the +expedition, and relate exactly what had taken place. +Grover was more than willing, and the tale lost nothing +in the telling. +</P> + +<P> +"Like a pair of children, they was," she concluded, +"when they started off on their travels. Him laughing +and talking like a boy going home for the holidays. Making +their escape, they called it, for of course the whole +countryside was buzzing with the story of what he had +done, and the carriages and cars came up the drive so fast, +Hemming was to and fro the whole day taking in cards, +telling them that Mr. Gaunt was not feeling quite equal +to seeing visitors, when all the time he was upstairs with +her, packing their things for the escape! +</P> + +<P> +"Well, ma'am, we always knew that a wife was what +he wanted, but I never dared to hope for such a sweet +young lady as he chose. They say marriages are made +in heaven, don't they? There's not much doubt but what +this one was, I take it upon myself to say!" +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Virginia's mother finished her tea in a speculative +silence. Grover left her to herself, but when she had +eaten and drunk she did not seem inclined to linger. Rising, +she went to the window and stood awhile gazing out +upon the activities of many gardeners, hard at work below +the terrace upon the beginning of the bride's rock garden. +Her face seemed to grow sharp and pinched as her eyes +followed the busy scene. +</P> + +<P> +Turning, she contemplated the marble Love; and her +pretty teeth bit into her lower lip, while her breath came +hissingly. +</P> + +<P> +<i>Made in heaven!</i> A wild laugh broke from her. Its +mirthless cadence fell hatefully upon the silence. Nebuchadnezzar, +when he cast his victims into the burning +fiery furnace, was, it is recorded, thankful to find them +coming forth unscathed. This woman had cast her +daughter, bound, into the hellish gulf of a loveless +marriage. Now that she saw her walking free and companied +by the husband whose very soul she had redeemed, +there was no joy, no relief, but a bitterness of hate which +transformed the pretty features into a mask of horror. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly she snatched her wraps, as if the scene were +unbearable. She hastened into the disembowelled hall +and, putting on her coat amid many apologies from Grover +for enforced inhospitality, went out to the waiting car. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +It was her only glimpse of her daughter's home for +many years to come. This was not from lack of invitation, +for all Osbert's hatred, and every lingering grudge, +vanished in the sunshine of his personal happiness. It +was simply that her narrow soul was torn with envy. +</P> + +<P> +The sound of Tony's laughter and shouting soon re-echoed +through the garden and stables; the ring of his +pony's hoofs could be heard along the avenue. Pansy's +invalid chair set out upon the terrace the following summer, +where Virgie had once lain, watched secretly by her +husband from the shelter of his den. Even the Rosenbergs +came for a week's motoring, when Gerald had practically +recovered from his hideous accident. +</P> + +<P> +Boys, girls, dogs, cats—a perpetual stream of youth +ebbed and flowed about the erstwhile silent place. But +Virginia the elder came not. +</P> + +<P> +Even when Osbert the second made his glorious appearance—when +bonfires were lit in the village, and Lord +and Lady St. Aukmund stood sponsors at a stately baptismal +ceremony—the mother still held aloof. Virginia's +unhappiness she could have borne. Virginia the +radiant young wife and mother, central point of attention, +mistress of Gaunt's heart and all that he possessed, +was a perpetual reminder of what she herself had flung +away. With her daughter's life as the price, she had purchased +freedom from want. Yet, from the time when it +dawned upon her that the girl was miraculously saved, she +never knew a moment free from the gnawing tooth of jealous +bitterness. +</P> + +<P> +The joy which these two had so perilously snatched from +the jaws of destiny was more than she dare contemplate. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="finis"> +THE END +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<HR> + +<BR><BR> + +<P> +<i>The greatest pleasure in life is +that of reading. Why not then +own the books of great novelists +when the price is so small</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>Of all the amusements which can possibly +be imagined for a hard-working man, after +his daily toil, or, in its intervals, there is +nothing like reading an entertaining book, +it calls for no bodily exertion. It transports +him into a livelier, and gayer, and more diversified +and interesting scene, and while he +enjoys himself there he may forget the evils +of the present moment. Nay, it accompanies +him to his next day's work, and gives him +something to think of besides the mere +mechanical drudgery of his every-day occupation—something +he can enjoy while absent, +and look forward with pleasure to return to.</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>Ask your dealer for a list of the titles +in Burt's Popular Priced Fiction</i> +</P> + +<P> +<i>In buying the books bearing the +A. L. Burt Company imprint +you are assured of wholesome, entertaining +and instructive reading</i> +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P> +<i>THE BEST OF RECENT FICTION</i> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + <b>Lynch Lawyers.</b> William Patterson White.<BR> + <b>McCarty Incog.</b> Isabel Ostrander.<BR> + <b>Major, The.</b> Ralph Connor.<BR> + <b>Maker of History, A.</b> E. Phillips Oppenheim.<BR> + <b>Malefactor, The.</b> E. Phillips Oppenheim.<BR> + <b>Man and Maid.</b> Elinor Glyn.<BR> + <b>Man from Bar 20, The.</b> Clarence E. Mulford.<BR> + <b>Man from the Bitter Roots, The.</b> Caroline Lockhart.<BR> + <b>Man in the Moonlight, The.</b> Rupert S. Holland.<BR> + <b>Man in the Twilight, The.</b> Ridgwell Cullum.<BR> + <b>Man Killers, The.</b> Dane Coolidge.<BR> + <b>Man Who Couldn't Sleep, The.</b> Arthur Stringer.<BR> + <b>Man's Country.</b> Peter Clark Macfarlane.<BR> + <b>Marqueray's Duel.</b> Anthony Pryde.<BR> + <b>Martin Conisby's Vengeance.</b> Jeffery Farnol.<BR> + <b>Mary-Gusta.</b> Joseph C. Lincoln.<BR> + <b>Mary Wollaston.</b> Henry Kitchell Webster.<BR> + <b>Mason of Bar X Ranch.</b> H. Bennett.<BR> + <b>Master of Man.</b> Hall Caine.<BR> + <b>Master Mummer, The.</b> E. Phillips Oppenheim.<BR> + <b>Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes.</b> A. Conan Doyle.<BR> + <b>Men Who Wrought, The.</b> Ridgwell Cullum.<BR> + <b>Meredith Mystery, The.</b> Natalie Sumner Lincoln.<BR> + <b>Midnight of the Ranges.</b> George Gilbert.<BR> + <b>Mine with the Iron Door, The.</b> Harold Bell Wright.<BR> + <b>Mischief Maker, The.</b> E. Phillips Oppenheim.<BR> + <b>Missioner, The.</b> E. Phillips Oppenheim.<BR> + <b>Miss Million's Maid.</b> Berta Ruck.<BR> + <b>Money, Love and Kate.</b> Eleanor H. Porter.<BR> + <b>Money Master, The.</b> Gilbert Parker.<BR> + <b>Money Moon, The.</b> Jeffery Farnol.<BR> + <b>Moonlit Way, The.</b> Robert W. Chambers.<BR> + <b>More Limehouse Nights.</b> Thomas Burke.<BR> + <b>More Tish.</b> Mary Roberts Rinehart.<BR> + <b>Moreton Mystery, The.</b> Elizabeth Dejeans.<BR> + <b>Mr. and Mrs. Sen.</b> Louise Jordan Miln.<BR> + <b>Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo.</b> E. Phillips Oppenheim,<BR> + <b>Mr. Pratt.</b> Joseph C. Lincoln.<BR> + <b>Mr. Pratt's Patients.</b> Joseph C. Lincoln.<BR> + <b>Mrs. Red Pepper.</b> Grace S. Richmond.<BR> + <b>Mr. Wu.</b> Louise Jordan Miln.<BR> + <b>My Lady of the North.</b> Randall Parrish.<BR> + <b>My Lady of the South.</b> Randall Parrish.<BR> + <b>Mystery Girl, The.</b> Carolyn Wells.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Daughter Pays, by Mrs. Baillie Reynolds + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DAUGHTER PAYS *** + +***** This file should be named 35591-h.htm or 35591-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/5/9/35591/ + +Produced by Andrew Sly, Al Haines and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +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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