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diff --git a/old/54941-h/54941-h.htm b/old/54941-h/54941-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 11e5b70..0000000 --- a/old/54941-h/54941-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5570 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Monica (vol. 2 of 3), by Evelyn Everett-Green.. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -.chapter -{ - page-break-before: always; - text-align: center; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - - -.mt2 {margin-top: 2em;} -.mt4 {margin-top: 4em;} -.mb2 {margin-bottom: 2em} -.mb4 {margin-bottom: 4em} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.full {width: 95%; margin-left: 2.5%; margin-right: 2.5%} - - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - - .tdl {text-align: left;} - .tdr {text-align: right;} - .tdc {text-align: center;} - - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-weight: normal; /* to avoid bold */ - font-style: normal; /* to avoid italics */ - } /* page numbers */ - - - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -abbr { border:none; text-decoration:none; font-variant:normal; } - - -.titlepage {page-break-before: always} - -ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} -.tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; - padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} - -.smaller {font-size: 0.7em;} -.big {font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold;} -.bigger {font-size: 1.6em; font-weight: bold;} -.huge {font-size: 2.5em;} - -/* Images */ -img { - max-width: 100%; /* no image to be wider than screen or containing div */ - height:auto; /* keep height in proportion to width */ -} - -div.figcenter { - clear: both; - margin: 2em auto; - text-align: center; - max-width: 100%; /* div no wider than screen, even when screen is narrow */ -} - -/* Poetry */ -.poetry-container - { - text-align: center; - margin: -1em 0; - } - -.poetry - { - display: inline-block; - text-align: left; - } - -.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} - -.poetry .verse - { - text-indent: -3em; - padding-left: 3em; - } - -.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2em;} - - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; -} - -.screenonly { display: block; } - -@media handheld /* Place this at the end of the CSS */ -{ - body - { - margin: 0; - padding: 0; - width: 95%; - } - - .poetry - { - display: block; - margin-left: 1.5em; - } - - .chapter - { - page-break-before: always; - } - - .screenonly { display: none; } -} - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -Project Gutenberg's Monica, Volume 2 (of 3), by Evelyn Everett-Green - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Monica, Volume 2 (of 3) - A Novel - -Author: Evelyn Everett-Green - -Release Date: June 20, 2017 [EBook #54941] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MONICA, VOLUME 2 (OF 3) *** - - - - -Produced by MWS and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by The Internet -Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - - -<h1>MONICA.</h1> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="screenonly figcenter" style="width: 560px;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="560" height="800" alt="book cover" /> -</div> -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<div class="titlepage"> -<p class="center huge">MONICA</p> - -<p class="center bigger">A Novel.</p> - - -<p class="center mt2">BY</p> - -<p class="center big">EVELYN EVERETT-GREEN.</p> - -<p class="center">Author of</p> - -<p class="center">“<span class="smcap">Torwood’s Trust</span>,” “<span class="smcap">The Last of the Dacres</span>,” -“<span class="smcap">Ruthven of Ruthven</span>,” <span class="smcap">Etc.</span></p> - - -<p class="center mt2"><i>IN THREE VOLUMES.</i></p> - - -<p class="center mt2">VOL. <abbr title="2">II.</abbr></p> - - -<p class="center mt4">LONDON:<br /> -WARD AND DOWNEY,<br /> -12, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C.<br /> -1889.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<p class="center">PRINTED BY<br /> -KELLY AND CO., GATE STREET, LINCOLN’S INN FIELDS,<br /> -AND KINGSTON-ON-THAMES.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> - - - -<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> - - - -<div class="center"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="ToC"> -<tr><td class="tdc">CHAPTER THE TWELFTH.</td> - <td class="tdr smaller">PAGE</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl smcap">Mrs. Bellamy</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl smcap">Randolph’s Story</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_22">23</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl smcap">Storm and Calm</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl smcap">A Summons to Trevlyn</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl smcap">Changes</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl smcap">United</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl smcap">A Shadow</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl smcap">In Scotland</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_143">143</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER THE TWENTIETH.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl smcap">A Visit to Arthur</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIRST.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl smcap">Back at Trevlyn</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl smcap">An Enigma</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td></tr> -</table></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<p class="center bigger">MONICA</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h2 title="12. MRS. BELLAMY">CHAPTER THE TWELFTH.<br /> - -<small>MRS. BELLAMY.</small></h2> - - -<p>Randolph was gone; and Monica, left -alone in her luxurious London house, felt -strangely lost and desolate. Her husband -had expressed a wish that she should go -out as much as possible, and not shut herself -up in solitude during his brief absence, -and to do his will was now her great desire. -She would have preferred to remain quietly -at home. She liked best to sit by her fire -upstairs, and make Wilberforce tell her of -Randolph’s childhood and boyish days; his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span>devotion to his widowed mother, his kindness -to herself, all the deeds of youthful -prowess, which an old nurse treasures up -respecting her youthful charges and delights -to repeat in after years. Wilberforce would -talk of Randolph by the hour together if -she were not checked, and Monica felt -singularly little disposition to check her.</p> - -<p>However she obeyed her husband in -everything, and took her morning’s ride as -usual next day, and was met by Cecilia -Bellamy, who rode beside her, with her -train of cavaliers in attendance, and pitied -the poor darling child who had been -deserted by her husband.</p> - -<p>“I am just in the same sad predicament -myself, Monica,” she said, plaintively. -“My husband has had to go to Paris, all -of a sudden, and I am left alone too. We -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>must console ourselves together. You must -drive with me to-day and come to tea, and -I will come to you to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>Monica tried in vain to beg off; Cecilia only -laughed at her. Monica had not <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">savoir faire</i> -enough to parry skilful thrusts, nor insincerity -enough to plead engagements that did -not exist. So she was monopolised by Mrs. -Bellamy in her morning’s ride, was driven -out in her carriage that same afternoon, -and taken to several houses where her -friend had “just a few words” to say to -the hostess. She was taken back to tea, -and had to meet Conrad, who received -her with great warmth, and had the bad -taste to address her by her Christian name -before a whole roomful of company, and -who ended by insisting on walking home -with her. Yet his manner was so quiet -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>and courteous, and he seemed so utterly -unconscious of her disfavour, that she was -half ashamed of it, despite her very real -annoyance.</p> - -<p>And the worst of it was that there -seemed no end to the attentions pressed -upon her by the indefatigable Cecilia. -Monica did not know how to escape from -the manifold invitations and visits that -were showered upon her. She seemed -fated to be for ever in the society of Mrs. -Bellamy and her friends. Beatrice Wentworth -and her brother were themselves -out of town; Randolph was detained longer -than he had at first anticipated, and Monica -found herself drawn in an imperceptible -way—against which she rebelled in vain—into -quite a new set of people and places.</p> - -<p>Monica was a mere baby in Cecilia’s -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>hands. She had not the faintest idea of any -malice on the part of her friend. She felt -her attentions oppressive; she disliked the -constant encounters with Conrad; but she -tried in vain to free herself from the -hospitable tyranny of the gay little woman. -She was caught in some inexplicable way, -and without downright rudeness she could -not escape.</p> - -<p>As a rule, Conrad was very guarded and -discreet, especially when alone with her. -He often annoyed her by his assumption of -familiarity in presence of others, but he -was humble enough for the most part, and -took no umbrage at her rather pointed -avoidance of him. She did not know what -he was trying to do: how he was planning -a subtle revenge upon his enemy her -husband—the husband she was beginning -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>unconsciously yet very truly to love. She -shrank from him without knowing why, -but the day was rapidly approaching when -her eyes were to be opened.</p> - -<p>Her instincts were so true that it was -not easy to deceive her for long. Ignorance -of the world and reluctance to suspect evil -blinded her for a time; but she was to -learn the true nature of her so-called -friends before long.</p> - -<p>There had been a small picnic party at -Richmond one day. Monica had tried hard -to excuse herself from attending, but had -been laughed and coaxed into consent. It -mattered the less what she did now, for -her husband was to be at home the following -day, and in the gladness of that thought -she could almost enjoy the sunshine, the -fresh air, the sight of green grass and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>waving trees, the country sights and sounds -to which she had so long been a stranger.</p> - -<p>The party, too, was small, and though -Conrad was of the number, he held aloof -from Monica, for which she was glad, for -she had felt an increasing distrust of him -of late. It was an equestrian party, and -the long ride was a pleasure to Monica, -who could have spent a whole day in the -saddle without fatigue.</p> - -<p>And then her husband was coming. He -would set all right. She would tell him -everything—she had not felt able to do so -in the little brief notes she had written to -him—and she would take his advice for -the future, and decline friendship with all -who could not be his friends too. Everything -would be right when Randolph came -back.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> -<p>Then Monica was glad of an opportunity -of a little quiet talk with Cecilia -Bellamy. The wish for a private interview -with her had been one of the reasons -which had led her to consent to be one -of to-day’s party. She had something -on her mind she wished to say to her in -private, and as yet she had found no -opportunity of doing so.</p> - -<p>Yet it was not until quite late in the -afternoon that Monica’s opportunity came; -when it did, she availed herself of it at -once. She and her friend were alone in a -quiet part of the park; nobody was very -near to them.</p> - -<p>“Cecilia,” said Monica, “there is something -I wish to say to you now that we are -alone together. I am very much obliged -to you for being so friendly during my -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>husband’s absence—but—but—it is difficult -to say what I mean—but I think you ought -not to have had your brother so much with -you when you were asking me; or rather I -think, as he is your brother, whilst I am -only a friend, the best plan would be for -us to agree not to attempt to be very -intimate. We have drifted apart with the -lapse of years, and there are reasons, as -you know, why it is not advisable for me -to see much of your brother. I am sure -you understand me without any more -words.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, perfectly!” said Mrs. Bellamy with -a light laugh. “Poor child, what an ogre -he is! Well, at least, we have made the -best of the little time he allowed us.”</p> - -<p>Monica drew herself up very straight.</p> - -<p>“I do not understand you, Cecilia. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>Please to remember that you are speaking -of my husband.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Bellamy laughed again.</p> - -<p>“I am in no danger of forgetting, my -dear. Please do not trouble yourself to -put on such old-fashioned airs with me; as -if every one did not know your secret by -this time.”</p> - -<p>Monica turned upon her with flashing -eyes.</p> - -<p>“What secret?”</p> - -<p>“The secret of your unhappy marriage, -my love. It was obviously a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mariage de -convenance</i> from the first, and you take no -pains to disguise the fact that it will never -be anything else. As Randolph Trevlyn is -rather a fascinating man, there is only one -rational interpretation to be put upon your -persistent indifference.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> -<p>Monica stood as if turned to stone.</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“Why, that your heart was given away -before he appeared on the scene. People -like little pathetic romances, and there is -something in the style of your beauty, my -dear, that makes you an object of interest -wherever you go. You are universally -credited with a ‘history’ and a slowly -breaking heart—an equally heart-broken -lover in the background. You can’t think -how interested we all are in you—and——”</p> - -<p>But the sentence was not finished. Mrs. -Bellamy’s perceptions were not fine, but -something in Monica’s face deterred her -from permitting her brother’s name to pass -her lips. It was easy to see that no -suspicion of his connection with the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>“romance” concocted for her by gossiping -tongues had ever crossed her mind. But -she was sternly indignant, and wounded to -the quick by what she had heard.</p> - -<p>She spoke not a word, but turned -haughtily away and sought for solitude in -the loneliest part of the park. She was -terribly humiliated. She knew nothing of -the inevitable chatter and gossip, half -good-humoured, half mischievous, with -which idle people indulge themselves about -their neighbours, especially if that neighbour -happens to be a beautiful woman, with -an unknown past and an apparent trouble -upon her. She did not know that spite on -Conrad’s part, and flighty foolishness on -that of his sister, had started rumours concerning -her. She only felt that she had by -her ingratitude and coolness towards the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>husband who had sacrificed so much for -her, and whom she sincerely respected, and -almost loved, had been the means of bringing -his name and hers within the reach of -malicious tongues, had given rise to cruel -false rumours she hated ever to think of. -If only her husband were with her!—at -least he would soon be with her, and if for -very shame she could not repeat the cruel -words she had heard, at least she could -show to all the world how false and base -they were.</p> - -<p>Monica woke up at last to the fact that -it was getting late, and that she was in a -totally strange place, far away from -the rest of the party. She turned -quickly and retraced her steps. She -seldom lost her bearings, and was able to -find her way back without difficulty, but -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>she had strayed farther than she knew; it -took her some time to reach the glade -in which they had lunched, and when she -arrived there she found it quite deserted. -There was nothing for it but to go back to -the hotel, whither she supposed the others -had preceded her, but when she reached -the courtyard no one was to be seen but -Conrad, who held her horse and his own.</p> - -<p>“Ah, Monica! here you are. We -missed you just at starting. Did you lose -yourself in the park? Nobody seemed to -know what had become of you.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose I walked rather too far. -Where are the rest?”</p> - -<p>“Just started five minutes ago. We -only missed you then. I said I’d wait. We -shall catch them up in two minutes.”</p> - -<p>As this was Mrs. Bellamy’s party, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>Conrad was her brother, this mark of -courtesy could not be called excessive, yet -somehow it displeased Monica a good deal.</p> - -<p>“Where is my groom?”</p> - -<p>Conrad looked round innocently enough. -“I suppose he joined the cavalcade, -stupid fellow! Stablemen are so very -gregarious. Never mind; we shall be up -with them directly.”</p> - -<p>And Monica was forced to mount and -ride after the party with Conrad.</p> - -<p>But they did not come up with the -others, despite his assurances, and the fact -that they rode very fast for a considerable -time. He professed himself very much -astonished, and declared that they must -have made a stupid blunder, and have gone -by some other road.</p> - -<p>“In that case, Sir Conrad,” said Monica, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>“I will dispense with your escort. I am -perfectly well able to take care of myself -alone.”</p> - -<p>He read her displeasure in her face and -voice. She had an instinct that she had -been tricked, but it was not a suspicion -she could put into words.</p> - -<p>“<em>Sir</em> Conrad!” he repeated, with -gentle reproach. “Have I offended you, -Monica?”</p> - -<p>“Sir Conrad, it is time we should understand -one another,” said Monica, turning -her head towards him. “I made you a -sort of promise once—a promise of friendship -I believe it was. I am not certain -that I ever ought to have given it; but -after my marriage with a man you hold as -an enemy, it is impossible that I can look -upon you as a true friend. I do not judge -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>or condemn you, but I do say that we had -better meet as infrequently as possible, and -then as mere acquaintances. You have -strained your right of friendship, as it is, -by the unwarrantable and persistent use of -my Christian name, which you must have -known was not for you to employ now. -We were playfellows in childhood, I know, -but circumstances alter cases, and our -circumstances have greatly changed. It -must be Sir Conrad and Lady Monica -now between you and me, if ever we -meet in future.”</p> - -<p>His eyes gleamed with that wild beast -ferocity that lay latent in his nature, but -his voice was well under command.</p> - -<p>“Your will is law, Lady Monica. It is -hard on me, but you know best. I will -accept any place that you assign me.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> -<p>She was not disarmed by his humility.</p> - -<p>“I assign you no place; and you know -that what I say is not hard. We are not -at Trevlyn now. You know your own -world well; I am only just beginning to -know it. You had no right ever to take -liberties that could give occasion for criticism -or remark.”</p> - -<p>He looked keenly at her, but she was -evidently quite unconscious of the game he -had tried to play for the amusement of his -little circle. She only spoke in general terms.</p> - -<p>“There was a time, Monica,” he said -gently, “when you cared less what the -world would say.”</p> - -<p>“There was a time, Sir Conrad,” she -answered, with quiet dignity, “when I -knew less what the world might say.”</p> - -<p>Had Monica had the least suspicion of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>what her companion had tried to make it -say, she would not now have been riding -with him along the darkening streets, -just as carriages were rolling by carrying -people to dinner or to the theatres.</p> - -<p>Twice she had imperatively dismissed -him, but he had absolutely declined to -leave her.</p> - -<p>“I will not address another word to you -if my presence is distasteful to you,” he -said; “but you are my sister’s guest, and -in the absence of her husband I stand in -the place of your host. I will not leave -you to ride home at this late hour alone. -At the risk of incurring your displeasure I -attend you to your own door.”</p> - -<p>Monica did not protest after that, but -she hardly addressed a single word to her -silent companion.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> -<p>As she rode up to her own house she -saw that the door stood open. The groom -was there, with his horse. He was in -earnest converse with a tall, broad-shouldered -man, who held a hunting-whip -in his hand, and appeared about to spring -into the saddle.</p> - -<p>Monica’s heart gave a sudden leap. -Who was that other man standing with -his back to her on the pavement? He -turned quickly at the sound of her approach—it -was her husband.</p> - -<p>He looked at her and her companion in -perfect silence. Conrad took off his hat, -murmured a few incoherent words, and -rode quickly away. Randolph’s hand -closed like a vice upon his whip, but he -only gave one glance at the retreating -figure, and then turned quietly to his wife -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>and helped her to dismount. The groom -took the horse, and without a word from -anyone, husband and wife passed together -into the house. And this was the meeting -to which Monica had looked forward with -so much trembling joy.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/i_021.jpg" width="400" height="75" alt="decoration" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> - - - -<h2 title="13. RANDOLPH’S STORY">CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH.<br /> - -<small>RANDOLPH’S STORY.</small></h2></div> - - -<p>Randolph led his wife upstairs to the -drawing-room, and closed the door behind -them. It was nine o’clock, and the room -was brightly illuminated. Randolph was -in dinner dress, as though he had been -some time at home. His face was pale, -and wore an expression of stern repression -more intense than anything Monica had -ever seen there before. She was -profoundly agitated—agitated most of all -by the feeling that he was near her again; -the husband that she had pined for without -knowing that she pined. Her agitation -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>was due to a kind of tumultuous joy more -than to any other feeling, but she hardly -knew this herself, and no one else would -have credited it, from the whiteness of her -face, and the strained look it wore. As a -matter of fact, she was physically and -mentally exhausted. She had gone through -a great deal that day; she had eaten little, -and that many hours ago; she was a good -deal prostrated, though hardly aware of it—a -state in which nervous tension made -her unusually susceptible of impression; -and she trembled and shrank before the -displeasure in her husband’s proud face. -Would he look like that if he really loved -her? Ah, no! no! She shrank a little -more into herself.</p> - -<p>Randolph did not hurry her. He took -off his overcoat leisurely, and laid his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>whip down upon the table. He looked -once or twice at her as she sat pale and -wan in the arm-chair whither he had led -her. Then he came and stood before her.</p> - -<p>“Monica, what have you to say to -me?”</p> - -<p>She looked up at him with an expression -in her dark eyes that moved and touched -him. Something of the severity passed -from his face; he sat down, too, and laid -his hand upon hers.</p> - -<p>“You poor innocent child,” he said -quietly, “I do not even believe you know -that you have done wrong.”</p> - -<p>“I do, Randolph,” she answered. “I do -know, but not as you think—I could not -help that. I hated it—I hate him; but to-night -I could not help myself. Where I -was wrong was in not doing as you asked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>—persisting -in judging for myself. But how -could I know that people could be so cruel, -so unworthy, so false? Randolph, I should -like to-night to know that I should never -see one of them again!”</p> - -<p>She spoke with a passionate energy that -startled him. He had never seen her -excited like this before.</p> - -<p>“What have they been saying to you?” -he asked in surprise.</p> - -<p>“Ah! don’t ask me. It is too hateful! -It was Cecilia. She seemed to think it was -amusing—a capital joke. Ah! how can -people be so unwomanly, so debased!”</p> - -<p>She put her hands before her eyes, as if -to shut out some hideous image. “Yes, -I will tell you, Randolph—I will. I owe it -to you, because—because—oh, because -there is just enough truth to make it so -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>terribly bitter. She said that people knew -it was not an ordinary marriage, ours—she -called it a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mariage de convenance</i>. She -said everybody knew we had not fallen in -love with one another.” Monica’s hand -was still pressed over her eyes; she could -not look at her husband. “She said I -showed it plainly, that I let every one see. -I never meant to, Randolph, but perhaps I -did. I don’t know how to pretend. But -oh, she said people thought it was because -I cared—for some one else—that I had -married you whilst I loved some one else—and -that is all a wicked, wicked lie! -You believe that, Randolph, do you not?”</p> - -<p>She rose up suddenly and he rose too, -and they stood looking into each other’s -eyes.</p> - -<p>“You believe that at least, Randolph?” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>she asked, and wondered at the stern -sorrow visible in every line of his face.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Monica, I believe that,” he -answered, very quietly; yet, in spite of all -his yearning tenderness there was still some -sternness in his manner, for he was deeply -moved, and knew that the time had come -when at all costs he must speak out. “I, -too, have heard that false rumour, and have -heard—which I hope you have not—the -name of the man to whom your heart is -supposed to be given. Shall I tell it you? -His name is Conrad Fitzgerald.”</p> - -<p>Monica recoiled as if he had struck her, -and put both her hands before her face. -Randolph continued speaking in the same -concise way.</p> - -<p>“Let me tell you my tale now, Monica. -I left Scotland early this morning, finishing -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>business twelve hours earlier than I -expected. I wired from Durham to you; -but you had left the house before my -telegram reached. In the train, during -the last hour of the journey, some young -fellows got in, who were amusing themselves -by idle repetition of current gossip. -I heard my wife’s name mentioned more -than once, coupled with that of Sir Conrad -Fitzgerald, in whose company she had -evidently been frequently seen of late. I -reached home—Lady Monica was out for -the day with Mrs. Bellamy—presumably -with Sir Conrad also. I dined at my club, -to hear from more than one source that the -world was gossiping about my handsome -wife and Sir Conrad Fitzgerald. I came -home at dusk to find the groom just -returned, with the news that Sir Conrad -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>was bringing my lady home, that he was -dismissed from attendance; and in effect -the man whose acquaintance I repudiate, -whose presence in my house is an insult, -rides up to my door in attendance upon -my wife. Before I say any more, tell me -your story. Monica, let me hear what -you have been doing whilst I have been -away.”</p> - -<p>Monica, roused to a passionate indignation -by what she heard—an indignation -that for the moment seemed to include the -husband, who had uttered such cruel, -wounding words, told her story with -graphic energy. She was grateful to -Randolph for listening so calmly and so -patiently. She was vaguely aware that not -all men would show such forbearance and -self-control. She knew she had wounded -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>him to the quick by her indiscretion and -self-will, but he gave her every chance to -exculpate herself. When she had told her -story, she stood up very straight before -him. Let him pronounce sentence upon -her; she would bear it patiently if she -could.</p> - -<p>“I see, Monica,” he answered, very -quietly, “I understand. It is not all your -fault. You have only been unguarded. -You have been an innocent victim. It is -Fitzgerald’s own false tongue that has set -on foot these idle, baseless rumours. It is -just like him.”</p> - -<p>Monica recoiled again.</p> - -<p>“Just like him! but, Randolph, he is -my friend!”</p> - -<p>A stern look settled upon Randolph’s -face.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> -<p>“Oblige me, Monica, by withdrawing -that word. He is <em>not</em> your friend; and he -is my enemy.”</p> - -<p>“Your enemy?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; and <em>this</em> is how he tries to obtain -his revenge.”</p> - -<p>Monica was trembling in every limb.</p> - -<p>“I do not understand,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Sit down, then, and I will tell you.”</p> - -<p>She obeyed, but he did not sit down. -He stood with his back against the -chimney-piece, the light from the chandelier -falling full upon his stern resolute face, -with its handsome features and luminous -dark eyes.</p> - -<p>“You say you know the story of -Fitzgerald’s past?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; he forged a cheque. His sister -told me.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> -<p>Randolph looked at her intently.</p> - -<p>“Was that <em>all</em> she told you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; she said it was all. He deceived -a friend and benefactor, and committed a -crime. Was not that enough?”</p> - -<p>“Not enough for Fitzgerald, it seemed,” -answered Randolph, significantly. “Monica, -I am glad you did not know more, since you -have met that man as a friend. Forgiveness -is beautiful and noble—but there are -limits. I will tell you the whole story, but -in brief. The Colonel Hamilton of whom -you heard in connection with the forgery -was Fitzgerald’s best and kindest friend. -He was a friend of my mother’s and of -mine. I knew him intimately, and saw a -good deal of his <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">protégé</i> at his house and at -Oxford. I did not trust him at any time. -It was no very great surprise when, after a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>carefully concealed course of vulgar -dissipation, he ended by disgracing himself -in the way you have heard described. It -cut Hamilton to the quick. ‘Why did not -the lad come to me if he was in trouble? -I would have helped him,’ he said. He -let me into the secret, for I happened to be -staying with him at the time; but it was -all hushed up. Fitzgerald was forgiven, -and vowed an eternal gratitude, as well -as a complete reformation in his life.”</p> - -<p>“Did he keep his promise?” asked -Monica in a whisper.</p> - -<p>“You shall hear how,” answered Randolph, -with a gathering sternness in -his tone not lost upon Monica. “From -that moment it seemed as if a demon -possessed him. I believe—it is the only -excuse or explanation to be offered—that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>there is a taint of insanity in his blood, -and that with him it takes, or took, the -form of an inexplicable hatred towards the -man to whom he owed so much. About -this time, Colonel Hamilton, till then a -bachelor, married a friendless, beautiful -young wife, to whom in his very quiet and -undemonstrative way he was deeply and -passionately attached, as she was to him. -But she was very young and very inexperienced, -and when that man, with his -smooth false tongue, set himself to poison -her life by filling her mind with doubts of -her husband’s love, he succeeded but too -well. She spoke no word of what she -suffered, but withdrew herself in her morbid -jealous distress. She broke the faithful -heart that loved her, and she broke her own -too. It sounds a wild and foolish tale, perhaps, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>to one who does not understand the -mysteries of a passionate love such as that; -but it is all too true. I had been absent -from England for some time, but came -home, all unconscious of what had happened, -to find my friend Hamilton in terrible grief. -His young wife lay dying—dying of a rapid -decline, brought on, it was said, by mental -distress; and worse than all, she could not endure -her husband’s presence in the room, but -shrank from him with inconceivable terror -and excitement. He was utterly broken -down by distress. He begged me to see -her, and to learn if I could, the cause of -this miserable alteration. I did see her. -I did get her to tell her story. I heard -what Conrad Fitzgerald had done; and -I was able, I am thankful to say, to -relieve her mind of its terrible fear, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>to bring her husband to her before the -end had come. She died in his arms, -happy at the last; but she died; and -he, in his broken-hearted misery for her -loss, and for the treachery of one he -had loved almost as a son, did not survive -her for long. Within six months, -my true, brave friend followed her to the -grave.</p> - -<p>“I was with him to the end. I need -hardly say that Fitzgerald did not attempt -to come near him. He was plunged in a -round of riotous dissipation. Upon the day -following the funeral, I chanced to come -upon him, surrounded by a select following -of his boon companions. Can I bring -myself to tell you what he was saying -before he knew that I was within earshot? -I need not repeat his words, Monica: they -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>are not fit for your ears. Suffice it to say -that he was passing brutal jests upon the -man who had just been laid in his grave, -and upon the young wife whose heart had -been broken by his own base and cruel -slanders. Coupled with these jests were -disgraceful boastings, as unmanly and false -as the lips that uttered them.</p> - -<p>“I had in my hand a heavy riding-whip. -I took him by the collar, and I made him -recant each one of those cruel slanders he -had uttered, and confess himself a liar and -a villain. I administered, then and there, -such a chastisement as I hope never to -have to administer to any man again. No -one interposed between us. I think even -his chosen companions felt that he was receiving -no more than his due. I thrashed -him like the miserable hound he was. If it -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>had been possible, I would have called him -out and shot him like a dog.”</p> - -<p>Randolph’s voice had not risen whilst he -was speaking. He was very calm and composed -as he told his story; there was no -excitement in his manner, and yet his quiet, -quivering wrath thrilled Monica more than -the fiercest invective could have done.</p> - -<p>“My whip broke at last. I flung him -from me, and he lay writhing on the floor. -But he was not past speech, and he had -energy left still to curse me to my face, and -to vow upon me a terrible vengeance, which -should follow me all my life. He is trying -now to keep this vow. History repeats -itself you know. He ruined the happiness -of one life, and brought about this tragedy, -by poisoning the mind of a wife, and setting -her against her husband; and I presume -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>he thinks that experiment was successful -enough to be worth repeating. There, -Monica, I have said my say. You have -now before you a circumstantial history of -the past life of Sir Conrad Fitzgerald—your -friend.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/i_039.jpg" width="400" height="154" alt="decoration" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> - - - -<h2 title="14. STORM AND CALM">CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH.<br /> - -<small>STORM AND CALM.</small></h2></div> - - -<p>Monica sat with her face buried in her -hands, her whole frame quivering with -emotion. Those last words of her husband’s -smote her almost like a blow. She -deserved them, no doubt; yet they were -cruel, coming like that. He could not -have spoken so if he loved her. He would -not stand coldly aloof whilst she suffered, if -he held her really dear. And yet, once he -had almost seemed to love her, till she had -alienated him by her pride and self-will. It -was just, she admitted, yet, oh! it was -very hard!</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> -<p>She sat, crushed and confounded, for a -time, and it was only by a great effort that -she spoke at all.</p> - -<p>“I did not know, Randolph; I did not -know. You should have told me before.”</p> - -<p>“I believed you did know. You told me -that you did.”</p> - -<p>“Not that. Did you think I could know -<em>that</em> and treat him as a friend? Oh, Randolph! -how could you? You ought to -have told me before.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I ought,” he said. “But -remember, Monica, I spoke out very -plainly, and still you insisted that he was, -and should continue to be, your friend—your -repentant friend.”</p> - -<p>Monica raised her eyes to her husband’s -face, full of a sort of mute reproach. She -felt that she merited the rebuke—that he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>might have said much more without being -really harsh—and yet it was very hard, in -this hour of their re-union, to have to hear, -from lips that had never uttered till then -anything but words of gentleness and love, -these reproofs and strictures on her conduct. -She saw that he was moved: that -there was a repressed agitation and excitement -in his whole manner; but she -could not guess how deeply he had been -roused and stirred by the careless jests -he had heard passed that day, nor how -burning an indignation he felt towards -the man who had plotted to ruin his -happiness.</p> - -<p>“You should not have left me, Randolph,” -said Monica, “if you could not -trust me.”</p> - -<p>He went up to her quietly, and took her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>hands. She stood up, looking straight into -his eyes.</p> - -<p>“I did trust you—I do trust you,” he -answered, with subdued impetuosity. “Can -I look into your face and harbour one -doubt of your goodness and truth? I trust -<em>you</em> implicitly; it is your judgment, not -your heart, that has been at fault.”</p> - -<p>She looked up gratefully, and drew one -step nearer.</p> - -<p>“And now that you have come back, all -will be right again,” she said. “Randolph, -I will never speak to that man again.”</p> - -<p>His face was stern; it wore a look she -did not understand.</p> - -<p>“I am not sure of that,” he answered, -speaking with peculiar incisiveness. “It -may be best that you <em>should</em> speak to him -again.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> -<p>She looked up, bewildered.</p> - -<p>“Randolph, why do you say that? -Do you think that, after all, he has repented?”</p> - -<p>Randolph’s face expressed an unutterable -scorn. She read the meaning of that -glance, and answered it as if it had been -expressed in words.</p> - -<p>“Randolph, do you believe for a moment -that I would permit any one to speak ill -of you to me? Am I not your wife?”</p> - -<p>His face softened as he looked at her, -but there was a good deal of sadness there, -too.</p> - -<p>“I do not believe you would deliberately -listen to such words from him; but are -not poisoned shafts launched sometimes -that strike home and rankle? Has no -one ever come between you and me, since -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>the day you gave yourself to me in -marriage?”</p> - -<p>He saw her hesitation, and a great sadness -came into his eyes. How near she -was and yet how far! His heart ached -for her in her loneliness and isolation, and -it ached for himself too.</p> - -<p>Monica broke the silence first.</p> - -<p>“Randolph,” she said timidly; “no -harm has been done to you, really? He -cannot hurt you; can he?”</p> - -<p>His face was stern as he answered her.</p> - -<p>“He will hurt me if he can—through -my wife. His threat is still unfulfilled; -but he knows where to plant a blow, how -to strike in the dark. Yes, Monica, he has -hurt me.”</p> - -<p>She drew back a pace.</p> - -<p>“How?”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> -<p>“It hurts me to know that idle gossip -connects my wife’s name with his—that he -has the credit of being a lover, discarded -only from motives of policy. I know that -there is not a syllable of truth in these -reports—that they have been set afloat by -his malicious tongue. Nevertheless, they -hurt me. They hurt me the more because -my wife has given some countenance to -such rumours, by permitting a certain -amount of intimacy with a man whom -her husband will not receive.”</p> - -<p>Monica was white to the lips. She -understood now, as she had never done -before, what Cecilia Bellamy had meant by -her flighty speeches a few hours before. -They had disgusted and offended her then, -now they appeared like absolute insults. -Randolph saw the stricken look upon her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>face, and knew that she was cut to the -quick.</p> - -<p>“Monica,” he said, more gently, “what -has been done can be undone by a little -patience and self-control. We need not -be afraid of a man like Sir Conrad. I have -known him and his ways long. He has -tried before to injure me without success. -He has tried in a more subtle way this time; -yet again I say, most emphatically, that he -has failed.”</p> - -<p>But Monica hardly heard. She was torn -by the tumult of her shame and distress.</p> - -<p>“Randolph!” she exclaimed, stretching -out her hands towards him: “Randolph, -take me home! oh! take me home, out of -this cruel, cruel, wicked world! I cannot -live here. It kills me; it stifles the very -life out of me! I am so miserable, so -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>desolate here! It is all so hard, and so -terrible! Take me home! Ah! I was -happy once!”</p> - -<p>“I will take you to Trevlyn, Monica, -believe me, as soon as ever I can; but -it cannot be just yet. Shall I tell you -why?”</p> - -<p>She recoiled from him once more, putting -up her hand with that instinctive gesture of -distress.</p> - -<p>“You are very cruel to me Randolph,” -she said, with the sharpness of keen misery -in her voice.</p> - -<p>He stood quite still, looking at her, -and then continued in the same quiet -way:</p> - -<p>“Shall I tell you why? I cannot take -you away until we have been seen together -as before. I shall go with you to some of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>those houses you have visited without me. -We must be seen riding and driving, -and going about as if nothing whatever -had occurred during my absence. If we -meet Fitzgerald, there must be nothing in -your manner or in mine to indicate that -he is otherwise than absolutely indifferent -to us. I dare say he will put himself in -your way. He would like to force upon -me the part of the jealous, distrustful -husband, but it is a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">rôle</i> I decline to play -at his bidding. I am not jealous, nor am -I distrustful, and he and all the world -shall see that this is so. If I take you -away now, Monica, I shall give occasion -for people to say that I am afraid to trust -my wife in any place where she may meet -Fitzgerald. Let us stay where we are, and -ignore the foolish rumours he has circulated, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>and we shall soon see them drop into -deserved oblivion.”</p> - -<p>“Randolph, I cannot! I cannot!” cried -Monica, who was now overwrought and -agitated to the verge of exhaustion; “I -<em>cannot</em> stay here. I cannot go amongst -those who have dared to say such things, -to believe such things of me. What does -it matter what they think, when we are -far away? Take me back to Trevlyn, and -let us forget it all. Let me go, if only -for a week. I have never asked you -anything before. Oh! Randolph, do not -be so hard! Say that you will take me -home!”</p> - -<p>“If I loved you less, Monica,” he -answered, in a very low, gentle tone, “I -should say yes. As it is, I say no. I -cannot take you to Trevlyn yet.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> -<p>She turned away then, and left him -without a word, passing slowly through -the brilliantly-lighted room, and up the -wide staircase. Randolph sat down and -rested his head upon his hand, and a long-drawn -sigh rose up from the very depths -of his heart. This interview had tried him -quite as much as it had done Monica—possibly -even more.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps, after all, Fitzgerald <em>has</em> -revenged himself,” he muttered, “though -not in a way he anticipated. Ah, Monica! -my fair young wife, why cannot you trust -me a little more?”</p> - -<p>Monica trusted him far more than he -knew. It was not in anger that she had left -him. In the depth of her heart she believed -that he had judged wisely and well; it was -only the wave of home-sickness sweeping -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>over her that had urged her to such -passionate pleading. And then his strong, -inflexible firmness gave her a curious sense -of rest and confidence. She herself was so -torn and rent by conflicting emotions, by -bewilderment and uncertainty, that his -resolute determination and singleness of -purpose were as a rock and tower of -defence. She had called him cruel in the -keen disappointment of the moment, but -she knew he was not really so. Home-sick, -aching for Trevlyn as she was—irrepressibly -as she shrank from the idea of facing those -to whom she had given cause to say that -she did not love her husband, she felt that -his decision was right. It might be hard, -but it was necessary, and she would go -through her part unflinchingly for his sake. -It was the least that she could do to make -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>amends for the unconscious wrong she had -done him.</p> - -<p>She felt humbled to the very dust, -utterly distrustful of herself, and quite -unworthy of the gentleness and forbearance -her husband showed towards her. -How much he must be disappointed in her! -How hard he must feel it to have married -her out of kindness, and to be treated -thus!</p> - -<p>She was very quiet and submissive -during the days that followed, doing everything -he suggested, studying in all things -to please him, and to make up for the past. -In society she was more bright and less -silent than she had been heretofore. She -was determined not to appear unhappy. -No one should in future have cause to -say that her present life was not congenial -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>to her. Certainly, if anyone took the -trouble to watch her now, it would easily -be seen that she was no longer indifferent -to her husband. Her eyes often followed -him about when he was absent from her -side. She always seemed to know where -he was, and to turn to him with a sort of -instinctive welcome when he came back -to her. This clinging to him was quite -unconscious, the natural result of her confidence -in his strength and protecting care; -but it was visible to one pair of keenly -jealous eyes, and Conrad Fitzgerald, when -he occasionally found himself in company -with Randolph and his wife, watched with -a sense of baffled malevolence the failure of -his carefully-planned scheme.</p> - -<p>People began to talk now of the devotion -of Mr. Trevlyn and Lady Monica with as -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>much readiness and carelessness as they -had done about their visible estrangement. -It takes very little to set idle tongues -wagging, and every one admired the bride -and liked the bridegroom, so that the good -opinion of the world was not difficult to -regain.</p> - -<p>But Monica’s peace of mind was less -easily recovered. At home she was grave -and sad, and he thought her cold; and the -full and entire reconciliation—of which, indeed, -at that time she would have felt quite -unworthy—was not to be yet. Each was -conscious of deep love on his or her own -side, but could not read the heart of the -other, and feared to break the existing -calm by any attempt to ruffle the surface of -the waters.</p> - -<p>They were not very much alone, for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>Lord Haddon and his sister spent many -evenings with them when they were not -otherwise engaged, and the intimacy between -the two houses increased rapidly.</p> - -<p>Monica had never again alluded to the -prospective return to Trevlyn—the half-promise -made by Randolph to take her -back soon. She did not know what -“soon” might mean, and she did not ask. -She had grown content now to leave that -question in his hands.</p> - -<p>Once, when in the after-dinner twilight, -she had been talking to Beatrice of her old -home, the latter said, with eager vehemence:</p> - -<p>“How you must long to see it again! -How you must ache to be out of this -tumult, and back with your beloved sea -and cliffs and pine-woods! Don’t you -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>hate our noisy, busy London? Don’t you -pine to go back?”</p> - -<p>Monica was silent, pondering, as it -seemed. She was thinking deeply. When -she answered out of the fulness of her -heart, her words startled even herself.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think I do. I missed the quiet -and rest at first, but, you see, my husband -is here; I do not pine when I have him.”</p> - -<p>Beatrice’s eyes grew suddenly wistful. -“Ah, no!” she answered. “I can understand -that.”</p> - -<p>But after a long silence she rallied herself -and asked:</p> - -<p>“But is he not going to take you back? -Do you not want to see your father and -brother again?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, if Randolph is willing to take me; -but it must be as he likes.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> -<p>“He will like what will please you -best.”</p> - -<p>Monica smiled a little.</p> - -<p>“No; he will like what is best, and I -shall like it too.”</p> - -<p>Beatrice studied her face intently.</p> - -<p>“Do you know, Monica, that you have -changed since I saw you first?”</p> - -<p>Monica passed her hand across her brow. -What a long time it seemed since that first -meeting in the park!</p> - -<p>“Have I?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Do you know I used to have a -silly fancy that you did not much care for -Randolph? It was absurd and impertinent, -I know; but Haddon had brought -such a strange account of your sudden -wedding, called you the ‘snow bride,’ and -had somehow got an idea that it had all -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>been rather cold and sad—forgetting, of -course, that the sadness was on account of -your father’s health. I suppose I got a -preconceived idea; and do you know, -when first I knew you I used to think of -you as the ‘snow-bride,’ and fancy you -very cold to everyone—especially to Randolph; -and now that I see more of you -and know you better, it is just as plain -that you love him with all your heart and -soul.”</p> - -<p>Monica sat quite still in the darkness, -turning about the ring upon her finger—the -pledge of his wedded love. She was -startled at hearing put into plain words the -secret thought treasured deep down in her -heart, but seldom looked into or analysed. -Had it come to that? Did she indeed -love him thus? Was that the reason -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>she yielded up herself and her future -so trustfully and willingly to him?—the -reason that she no longer yearned after -Trevlyn as home, so long as he was -at her side? Yes, that was surely it. -Beatrice had spoken no more than the -truth in what she said. She did love her -husband heart and soul; but did he love -her too? There lay the sting—she had -proved unworthy of him: he must know -it and feel it. She had been near to winning -his heart; but alas! she had not won -it—and now, now perhaps it was too late. -And yet the full truth was like a ray of -sunshine in her heart. Might she not yet -win his love by the depth and tenderness -of her own? Something deep down within -her said that the land of promise lay, after -all, not so very far away.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"><h2 title="15. A SUMMONS TO TREVLYN">CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH.<br /> - -<small>A SUMMONS TO TREVLYN.</small></h2></div> - - -<p>“Randolph! Randolph! Why did you -not take me home when I begged so hard -to go? It was cruel! cruel! And now it -is too late!”</p> - -<p>This irrepressible cry of anguish burst -from Monica in the first moments of a -terrible, overmastering grief. An open -telegram in Randolph’s hand announced -the sudden death of Lord Trevlyn. He -had just broken to his wife, with as much -gentleness as he could, the news of this -crushing sorrow. It was hardly unnatural -that she should remember, in such a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>moment, how eloquently she had pleaded a -few weeks back to be taken home to -Trevlyn, yet she repented the words before -they had passed her lips, for she saw they -had hurt her husband.</p> - -<p>He was deeply grieved for her, his heart -yearned over her, but his words were -few.</p> - -<p>“Can you be ready to start, Monica, by -the noon express?”</p> - -<p>She bent her head in a silent assent, -and moved away as one who walks in a -dream.</p> - -<p>“Poor child!” he said softly, “poor -child! If only my love could make up to -you for what you have lost; but alas! that -is not what you want.”</p> - -<p>It was a strange, sad, silent journey, -almost as sad as the one in which Randolph -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>had brought his bride to London. He was -taking her back at last to her childhood’s -home. Was he any nearer to her innermost -self than he had been that day, now -nearly three months ago?</p> - -<p>He was hopeful that he had made an -advance, and yet this sudden recall to -Trevlyn disconcerted him. Apart from the -question of the earl’s death, there was -another trouble, he believed, hanging over -Monica’s future. Tom Pendrill had been -profiting by her absence to “experiment,” -as she would have called it, upon Arthur, -with results that had surprised even him, -though he had always believed the case -curable if properly treated. Randolph had -had nothing to do directly with the -matter, but Tom had written lately, asking -him to find out the best authorities on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>spinal injuries, and get some one or two -specialists to come and have a look at -the boy. This Randolph had done at his -own expense, and with the result, as he -had heard a few days back, that Arthur -was to be sent abroad for a year, to be -under a German doctor, whose cures of -similar cases had been bringing him into -marked repute.</p> - -<p>Monica had been, by Arthur’s special -wish, kept in ignorance of everything. He -was eagerly anxious, even at the cost of -considerable suffering, to submit to the -prescribed treatment, feeling how much -good he had already received from Tom’s -more severe remedies; but he knew how -Monica shrank from the idea of anything -that could give him pain, how terrible she -would consider the idea of parting, how -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>vehemently she would struggle to thwart -the proposed plan. So he had begged that -she might be kept in ignorance till all was -finally settled. Indeed, he had some idea, -not entirely discouraged by Tom, of -getting himself quietly removed to Germany -in her absence, so that she might be -spared all the anxiety, misery, and -suspense.</p> - -<p>Randolph could hardly have been -acquitted of participation in the scheme, -the whole cost of which was to fall upon -him, and he wondered what Monica might -think of his share in it. It had been no -doing of his that she had not been told -from the first. He had urged upon the -others the unfairness of keeping her in the -dark; but Arthur’s vehement wish for -secrecy had won the day, and he had held -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>his peace until he should be permitted to -speak.</p> - -<p>And now, what would happen? What -was likely to be the result upon Monica of -the inevitable disclosure? Would it not -seem to her as if the first act of her -husband, on succeeding to the family estate, -was to banish from it the one being for -whom she had so often bespoken his -protection and brotherly care? Might she -not fancy that he was in some way the -originator of the scheme? Might she not -be acute enough to see that but for him it -never could have been carried out, owing -to lack of necessary funds? Her father -might have approved it, but he could -not have forwarded it as Randolph was -able to do. Might it not seem to her that -he was trying to rid himself of an -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>unwelcome burden, and to isolate his wife -from all whom she loved best? He could -not forget some of the words she had -spoken not very long after their marriage. -Practically those words had been rescinded -by what had followed, but that could -hardly be so in this case. Monica’s heart -clung round Arthur with a passionate, -yearning tenderness, that was one of the -main-springs of her existence. What would -she say to those who had banded together -to take the boy from her?</p> - -<p>Randolph’s pre-occupation and gravity -were not lost upon Monica, but she had no -clue to their real cause. She felt that -there was something in it of which she was -ignorant, and there was a sort of sadness -and constraint even in the suspicion of -such a thing. She was unnerved and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>miserable, and, although, she well knew -she had not merited her husband’s full -confidence, it hurt her keenly to feel that it -was withheld from her.</p> - -<p>Evening came on, a wild, melancholy -stormy evening—is there anything more -sad and dreary than a midsummer storm? -It does not come with the wild, resistless -might of a winter tempest, sweeping -triumphantly along, carrying all before it -in the exuberance of its power. It is a -sad, subdued, moaning creature, full of -eerie sounds of wailing and regret, not -wrapped in darkness, but cloaked in misty -twilight, grey and ghostlike—a pale, -sorrowful, mysterious thing, that seems to -know itself altogether out of place, and -is haunted by its own melancholy and -dreariness.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> -<p>It was in the fast waning light of such a -summer’s evening that the portals of -Trevlyn opened to welcome Monica again.</p> - -<p>She was in the old familiar hall that once -had been so dear to her—the place whose -stern, grim desolation had held such charms -for her. Why did she now gaze round her -with dilated eyes, a sort of horror growing -upon her? Why did she cling to her -husband’s arm so closely, as the frowning -suits of mail and black carved faces stared -at her out of the dusky darkness? Why -was her first exclamation one of terror and -dismay?</p> - -<p>“Randolph! Randolph! This is not -Trevlyn! It cannot be Trevlyn! Take me -home! ah, take me home!”</p> - -<p>There was a catch in her breath; she -was shaken with nervous agitation and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>exhaustion. It seemed to her that this -ghostly place was altogether strange and -terrible. She did not know that the change -was in herself; she thought it was in her -surroundings.</p> - -<p>“What have they done to it? What -have they done to Trevlyn? This is not -my old home!”</p> - -<p>Randolph took her in his arms, alarmed -by her pale looks and manifest disquietude.</p> - -<p>“Not know your own old home, Monica?” -he said, half gravely, half playfully. “This -is the only Trevlyn I have ever known. -It is you that have half forgotten, you -have grown used to something so very -different.”</p> - -<p>Monica looked timidly about her, half -convinced, yet not relieved of all her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>haunting fears. What a strange, vast, -silent place it was! Voices echoed -strangely in it, resounding as it were from -remote corners. Footsteps sounded hollow -and strange as they came and went along -the deserted passages. The staircase -stretched upwards into blank darkness, -suggesting lurking horrors. All was -intensely desolate. Was this truly the -home she had loved so well?</p> - -<p>But Lady Diana appeared from one -direction, and Tom Pendrill from another. -Monica dropped her husband’s arm and -stood up, her calm, quiet self again.</p> - -<p>Food was awaiting the travellers, and -as they partook, or tried to partake of it, -they heard all such particulars of the earl’s -sudden death as there were to hear. He -had been as well as usual; indeed, during -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>the past week he had really appeared to -gain in strength and activity. He had -been out of doors on all fine days, and only -yesterday had sat out for quite a long time -upon the terrace. He had gone to bed -apparently in his usual health; but when -his man had gone to him in the morning -he found him dead and cold. Tom -Pendrill had come over at once, and had -remained for the day, relieving Lady Diana -from all trouble in looking after things, -and thinking what was to be done. It was -his opinion that the earl had died in his -sleep, without a moment’s premonition. -It was syncope of the heart, and was most -likely almost instantaneous. There had -been no struggle and no pain, as was -evident from his restful attitude and -expression.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> -<p>The next days passed sadly and heavily, -and the earl was laid to rest amongst his -forefathers in the family vault. Lady -Diana took her departure, glad, after the -strain and sorrow of the past days, to -escape from surroundings so gloomy, and -to solace herself for her long stay at -Trevlyn, by a retreat to an atmosphere -more congenial to her.</p> - -<p>Monica was glad to see her go. She -shrank from her sharp words and sharper -looks. She longed to be alone with her -husband, that she might try to win back -his heart by her own deep love that she -hid away so well.</p> - -<p>But it was not easy even then to say -what was in her heart. Randolph was -busy from morning till night over the -necessary business that must ensue upon -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>the death of a landed proprietor. Tom -Pendrill, who had been much with the -earl of late, remained to assist his successor; -and both the men seemed to take it for -granted that Monica would gladly be -spared all business discussions, and devote -herself to Arthur, from whom she had so -long been separated.</p> - -<p>Monica, very gentle and submissive, -accepted the office bestowed upon her, and -quietly bided her time. Despite the loss -she had just sustained, she was not -unhappy. How could she be unhappy -when she had her husband? when she felt -that every day they were drawing nearer -and nearer together? She looked wistfully -into his face sometimes, and saw the old -proud, tender look shining upon her, -thrilling her with wonderful gladness. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>Some little shadow still hung over them, -but it was rolling slowly away—the dawn -was breaking in its golden glory—the time -was drawing very near when each was to -know the heart of the other wholly and -entirely won.</p> - -<p>She never shrank from hearing the new -Lord Trevlyn called by his title; but looked -at him proudly and tenderly, feeling how -well he bore the dignity, how nobly he -would fulfil the duties now devolving upon -him. She watched him day by day with -quiet, loving solicitude. She saw his care -for her in each act or plan, knew that he -thought for her still, made her his -first object, although she had disappointed -him so grievously once. Her heart -throbbed with joy to feel that this was so; -the sunshine deepened round her path day -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>by day. Just a little patience—just a -little time to show him that the old distrust -and insubordination were over, and -he would give to her—she felt sure of it -now—the love she prized above all else -on earth.</p> - -<p>Monica’s face might be pale and grave -in these days, yet it wore an added sweetness -as each passed by, for her heart was -full of strange new joy. She loved her -husband—he loved her—their hearts were -all but united.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/i_076.jpg" width="400" height="69" alt="decoration" /> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> - - - -<h2 title="16. CHANGES">CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH.<br /> - -<small>CHANGES.</small></h2> -</div> - -<p>“Arthur!”</p> - -<p>“Aha! my lady! you did not expect -that, did you? Now look here!”</p> - -<p>Arthur, who was sitting up in an arm-chair—a -thing Monica had never seen him -do since that terrible fall from the cliffs -years ago—now pulled himself slowly into -a standing position, and by the help of a -stout stick, shuffled a few paces to his -couch, upon which he sank breathless, -yet triumphant, though his drawn brow -betrayed that the achievement was made -at the cost of some physical pain.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> -<p>“Arthur, don’t! You will kill yourself!”</p> - -<p>“On the contrary, I am going to cure -myself—or rather, Tom and his scientific -friends are going to cure me,” answered -Arthur, panting a little with the exertion, -but very gay and confident. “Do you -know, Monica, that for the last three -months I have been at Tom’s tender -mercies, and you see what I can do at the -end of that time? Randolph paid no end -of money, I believe, to send down two big -swells from London to overhaul me; and -now—now what do you think is going to -happen?”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“The day after to-morrow I am going to -start for Germany—for a place where there -are mineral springs and things; and I am -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>going to stay there for a year, with a doctor -who has cured people worse than me. -Randolph is going to pay—isn’t he just -awfully good? And in a year, Monica, -I shall come back to you well—cured! -What do you think of that? Haven’t we -kept our secret well? Why, Monica, -don’t look like that! Aren’t you pleased -to think that I shall not be always a -cripple?”</p> - -<p>But Monica was too utterly astounded -to be able to realise all at once what this -meant.</p> - -<p>“Arthur, I don’t understand,” she said -at length. “You seeing doctors—you -going to Germany! Whose doing is it -all?”</p> - -<p>“Whose? Randolph’s practically, I suppose, -since he finds the money for it.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> -<p>“Why was not I told?”</p> - -<p>“That was my doing. I felt that if -you knew you would dissuade me. But -you can’t now, for in two days I shall be -gone!”</p> - -<p>“Was Randolph willing to keep a secret -from me—about you?” asked Monica, -slowly.</p> - -<p>“No, he didn’t like it. He wanted you -to be told; but I wouldn’t have it, and he -gave in. I wanted to tell you myself when -everything was fixed. Can you believe I -am really going?”</p> - -<p>“No, I can’t. Do you want to go, Arthur—to -leave Trevlyn?”</p> - -<p>“I want to get well,” he answered, -eagerly. “If you had been lying on your -back for years, Monica, you would understand.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> -<p>“I do understand,” answered Monica, -clasping her hands. “Only—only——”</p> - -<p>“Oh! yes, I know all that. It won’t -be pleasant. But I’d do more for a good -chance of getting well. So now it’s all -settled, and I’m off the day after to-morrow!”</p> - -<p>“You’ve not given me much time for -my preparations.”</p> - -<p>Arthur laughed outright.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you’re not going—did you think -you were? Why, you’re Lady Trevlyn -now—a full-blown countess. It would be -too absurd, your tying yourself to me. -Besides”—with a touch of manly gravity -and purpose—“I wouldn’t have you, -Monica, not at any price. I can stand -things myself, but I can’t stand the look -in your eyes. Besides, you know, it would -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>be absurd now—quite absurd. You’re -married, you know, and that changes -everything.”</p> - -<p>Monica’s face was hard to read.</p> - -<p>“I should have thought that, even -married, I might have been allowed to see -you placed safely in the hands of this new -doctor, after having been almost your only -nurse all these years.”</p> - -<p>He stretched out his hand and drew her -towards him, making her kneel down -beside him, so that he could gaze right -into her face.</p> - -<p>“You must not look like that, you -sweet, sensitive, silly sister,” said Arthur, -caressingly. “You must not think I have -changed, because I wish to go away, and -because I will not have you with me. I -love you the same as ever. I know that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>you love me, and if you want a proof of -this you shall have it, for I am going to -ask a favour of you—a very great -favour.”</p> - -<p>Monica smoothed his hair with her -hand.</p> - -<p>“A favour, Arthur?—Something that I -can grant? You know you have only to -ask.”</p> - -<p>“I want you to lend me Randolph,” he -said, with a little laugh, as if amused at -the form of words he had chosen. “I -want to know if you can spare him for the -journey. Tom is going to take me, but -somehow, Tom—well, he is very clever and -kind, but he does hurt me, there’s no denying, -and I don’t feel quite resigned to be -entirely at his mercy. But Randolph is -different. He is so very strong, he moves -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>me twice as easily, and he is so awfully -kind and gentle: he stops in a moment if -he thinks it hurts. He has been here a -good bit with Tom since he got back, and -you can’t think how different his handling -is. I don’t like to take him away from -you. You must miss him so awfully: he -is such a splendid fellow!”</p> - -<p>“Have you said anything to Randolph -about it?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no. I couldn’t till I’d asked you. -I do feel horrid to suggest such a thing; -but you’ve made me selfish, you know, by -spoiling me. It will take us three days -to go; but he could come back much -quicker. Tom is going to stop on for a -bit, to study cures with this old fogey; so -I shall have somebody with me. I’ll not -keep Randolph a day after I get landed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>there, but I should like him for the -journey uncommonly.”</p> - -<p>Monica stooped and kissed him. “I -will arrange that for you,” she said, -quietly, and went away without another -word.</p> - -<p>She went slowly downstairs to the study, -where her husband was generally to be -found. She was dazed and confused by -the astounding piece of news she had -heard: hurt, pleased, hopeful, grieved, -anxious, and half indignant all in one. -Her indignation was all for Tom Pendrill, -whom she had always regarded, where -Arthur was concerned, something in the -light of a natural foe. For her husband’s -quiet generosity and goodness she had -nothing but the warmest gratitude. He -would not be led away by professional -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>enthusiasm, or wish to inflict suffering upon -Arthur just for the sake of scientific -inquiry. He would not wish to send him -from Trevlyn unless he believed that some -great benefit would result from that -banishment.</p> - -<p>She smiled proudly as she thought of -Conrad’s old prediction fulfilling itself so -exactly now. Once she would have felt -this deed of his as a crushing blow, aimed -at the very foundation of her love and -happiness; now she only saw in it a new -proof of her husband’s single-minded love -and strength. He would do even that -which he knew would cause present pain, -if he felt assured it were best to do so. He -had proved his strength like this before, -and she knew that he had been in the right. -Should she distrust him now? Never -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>again! never again! She had done with -distrust now. She loved him too truly to -feel a shadow of doubt. Whatever he did -must be true and right. She would find -him now, and thank him for his goodness -towards her boy.</p> - -<p>She went straight to the study, full of -this idea. Her eyes were shining -strangely; her face showed that her feelings -had been deeply stirred. But when she -opened the door, she paused with a start -expressive of slight discomfiture, for her -husband was not alone—Tom Pendrill was -with him. They had guide-books and a -Continental Bradshaw open before them, -and were deep in discussions and plans.</p> - -<p>They looked up quickly as Monica -appeared, and Randolph, seeing by her -face that she knew all, nerved himself to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>meet displeasure and misunderstanding. -Monica could not say now what she had -rehearsed on the way. Tom was there, -and she was not sure that she quite forgave -him, although she believed he acted -from motives of kindness; but certainly -she could not speak out before him. The -words she had come prepared to utter died -away on her lips, and her silence and whole -attitude looked significant of deep-lying -distress and displeasure.</p> - -<p>“You have heard the news, Monica?” -said Tom, easily.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I have heard the news,” she -answered, very quietly. “Is it true that you -take him away the day after to-morrow?”</p> - -<p>“Quite true,” answered Tom, looking -very steadily at her. “Do you forgive us, -Monica?”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> -<p>She was silent for a moment; sort of -quiver passed over her face.</p> - -<p>“I am not quite sure if I forgive <em>you</em>,” -she answered in a low even tone.</p> - -<p>She had not looked at her husband all -this time, nor attempted to speak to him. -She was labouring visibly under the stress -of subdued emotion. Randolph believed he -knew only too well the struggle that was -going on within her.</p> - -<p>“Monica,” he said—and his voice -sounded almost cold in his effort to keep -it thoroughly under control—“I am afraid -this has been a shock to you. I am sure -you will feel it very much. Will you try -to believe that we are acting as we believe -for the best as regards Arthur’s future, -and pardon the mystery that has surrounded -our proceedings?”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> -<p>Monica gave him one quick look—so -quick and transient that he could not -catch the secret it revealed. She spoke -very quietly.</p> - -<p>“Everything has been settled, and I -must accept the judgment of others. -Results alone can quite reconcile me to -the idea; but at least I have learned to -know that I do not always judge best -in difficult questions. Arthur wishes to -go, and I will not stand in his way. -There is only one thing that I want to -ask,” and she looked straight at her -husband.</p> - -<p>“What is that, Monica?”</p> - -<p>“I want you to go with him, -Randolph.”</p> - -<p>“You want me to go with him?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, to settle him in his new quarters, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>and to come and tell me all about it, and -how he has borne the journey. Tom will -not be back for weeks—and I don’t know -if I quite trust Tom’s truthfulness. Will -you go too, Randolph? I shall be happier -if I know he is in your keeping as well.”</p> - -<p>He looked at her earnestly. Did she -wish to get rid of him for a time? Was -his presence distasteful to her after this last -act of his? He could not tell, but his -heart was heavy as he gave the required -assent.</p> - -<p>“I will do as you wish, Monica. If you -do not mind being a few days alone at -Trevlyn, I will go with Arthur. It is the -least I can do, I suppose, after taking him -away from you.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Randolph,” she said, with -one more of those inexplicable glances. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>“I need not be alone at Trevlyn. Aunt -Elizabeth will come, I am sure, and stay -with me;” and she went quietly away -without another word.</p> - -<p>“I say, Trevlyn, you have tamed my -lady pretty considerably,” remarked Tom, -when the men were alone together. “I -expected no end of a shine when she found -out, and she yields the point like a lamb. -Seems to me you’ve cast a pretty good spell -over her during the short time you’ve had -her in hand.”</p> - -<p>Randolph pulled thoughtfully at his -moustache as he turned again to the papers -on the table. He did not reply directly to -Tom’s remark, but presently observed, -rather as if it were the outcome of his own -thoughts:</p> - -<p>“All the same, I would give a good -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>deal if one of my first acts after coming -into the property were not to banish -Arthur from Trevlyn for a considerable -and indeterminate time.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, bosh!” ejaculated Tom, taking -up Bradshaw again. “Why, even Monica -would never put a construction like that -upon this business.”</p> - -<p>This day and the next flew by as if on -wings. There was so much to think of, -so much to do, and Monica had Arthur so -much upon her mind, that she found -no opportunity to say to Randolph what -she had purposed doing in the heat -of the moment. Speech was still an -effort to her; her reserve was too deep -to be easily overcome. She was busy -and he was pre-occupied. When he returned -she would tell him all, and thank -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>him for his generous goodness towards her -boy.</p> - -<p>“Monica,” said Arthur, as she came to -bid him good-night upon the eve of his -journey—he had had a soothing draught -administered, and was no longer excited, -but quiet and drowsy—“Monica, you will -be quite happy, will you not, with only -Randolph now? You love him very much, -don’t you?”</p> - -<p>She bent her head and kissed him.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Arthur,” she answered, softly. -“I love him with all my heart.”</p> - -<p>“Just as he loves you,” murmured -Arthur. “I can see it in his face, in -every tone of his voice, especially when he -talks of you—which is pretty nearly always—we -both like it so much. I am so glad -you feel just the same. I thought you -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>did. I shall like to think about you so—how -happy you will be!”</p> - -<p>The next day after Arthur had been -placed in the carriage that was to take -him away from Trevlyn, and Monica had -said her last adieu to him, and had turned -away with pale face and quivering lips, -she felt her hands taken in her husband’s -strong warm clasp.</p> - -<p>“Monica,” he said tenderly, “good-bye. -I will take every care of him. You shall -hear everything, and shall not regret, if I -can help it, trusting him to me.”</p> - -<p>Monica looked up suddenly into his face, -and put her arms about his neck. She -did not care at that moment for the -presence of Tom or of the servants. Her -husband was leaving her—she had only -thoughts for him.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> -<p>“Take care of yourself, Randolph,” she -said, her voice quivering, and almost -breaking. “Take care of yourself, and -come back to me as quickly as you can. -I shall miss you, oh! so much, till I have -you safe home again. Good-bye, dear -husband, good-bye!”</p> - -<p>He held her for a moment in his arms. -His heart beat tumultuously; for an -instant everything seemed to recede, and -leave him and his wife alone in the world -together; but it was no time now to -indulge in raptures. He kissed her -brow and lips, and gently unloosed her -clasp.</p> - -<p>“Good-bye, my wife,” he said gently. -“God bless and keep you always.”</p> - -<p>The next moment the carriage was -rolling rapidly away along the road, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>Monica gazing after it, her soul in her -eyes.</p> - -<p>“Ah; my darling,” said Mrs. Pendrill, -coming and taking her by the hand, “it -is very hard to part with him; but it was -kind to Arthur to spare him, and it is only -for a few days.”</p> - -<p>“I know, I know,” answered Monica -passing her hand across her eyes. “I -would not have kept him here. Arthur -wanted him so much—I can understand so -well what he felt—it would have been -selfish to hold him back. But it feels so -lonely and desolate without him; as if -everything were changed and different. I -can’t express it; but oh! I do feel it all so -keenly.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pendrill pressed the hand she -held.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> -<p>“You love him, then, so very much?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, yes,” she answered; “how could -I help it?”</p> - -<p>“It makes me very happy to hear you -say that. For I was sometimes rather -afraid that you were hurried into marriage -before you had learned to know your own -heart, I thought.”</p> - -<p>Monica passed her hand across her -brow.</p> - -<p>“Was I hurried?” she asked dreamily. -“It is so hard to remember all that now. -It seems as if I had always loved Randolph—as -if he had always been the centre of -my life.”</p> - -<p>And Mrs. Pendrill was content. She -said no more, asked no more questions.</p> - -<p>“You know, Randolph,” said Arthur to -his kindest of nurses and attendants, as he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>lay in bed at night, after rather a hard -day’s travelling, “I don’t wonder now that -you’ve so completely cut me out. I -shouldn’t have believed it possible once, -but it seems not only possible, but natural -enough, now that I know what kind of a -fellow you are.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean, my boy?” asked -Randolph.</p> - -<p>“Mean? Why, what I say to be sure. -I understand now why you’ve so completely -cut me out with Monica. I only -hold quite a subordinate place in her -affections now. It is quite right, and I -shall never be jealous of you, old fellow; -only mind you always let me be her -brother. I can’t give up that. You may -have all the rest, though. You deserve it, -and you’ve got it too, by her own showing.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> -<p>Randolph started a little involuntarily.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“Mean? why, that she loves you heart -and soul, of course. You must know it as -well as I, and I had it from her own -lips.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>“My wife, my wife!” said Randolph, as -he paced beneath the starry heavens that -night. “Then I was not deceived or mistaken—my -wife—my Monica—my very -own—God bless you, my darling, and -bring me safe home to you and to your -love!”</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> - - - -<h2 title="17. UNITED">CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH.<br /> - -<small>UNITED.</small></h2> -</div> - -<p>During the days that followed Monica -lived as in one long, happy dream. The -clouds all seemed to have rolled away, -letting in the sunshine to the innermost -recesses of her heart.</p> - -<p>Why was she so calmly and serenely -happy, despite the real sorrow hanging -over her in the recent death of a tenderly-loved -father? Why did even the loss of -the brother, to whom she had vowed such -changeless devotion, give her no special -pang? She had felt his going much, yet it -did not weigh her down with any load of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>sorrow. She well knew why these changes -were. The old love had not changed nor -waned, but it had been eclipsed in the light -of the deep wonderful happiness that had -grown up in her heart, since she had come to -know how well and faithfully she loved -Randolph, and to believe at last in his love -for her.</p> - -<p>Yes, she no longer doubted that now. -Something in the very perfectness of her -own love drove away the haunting doubts -and fears that had troubled her for so -long. He had her heart, and she had -his, and when once she had him -home again the last shadow would have -vanished away. How her heart beat -as she pictured that meeting! How -she counted the hours till she had him -back!</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> -<p>Only once was she disturbed in her quiet, -dreamy time of waiting.</p> - -<p>Once, as she was riding through the loneliest -part of the lonely pine wood, Conrad -Fitzgerald suddenly stood in her path, -gazing earnestly at her with a look she -could not fathom.</p> - -<p>Her face flushed and paled. She regarded -him with a glance of haughty -displeasure.</p> - -<p>“Let me pass, Sir Conrad.”</p> - -<p>He did not move; he was still fixedly -regarding her.</p> - -<p>“I told you how it would be, Monica,” -he said. “I told you Arthur would be -sent away.”</p> - -<p>She smiled a smile he did not understand.</p> - -<p>“Let me pass,” she said again.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> -<p>His eyes began to glow dangerously. -Her beauty and her scorn drove him to a -sort of fury.</p> - -<p>“Is this the way you keep your -promise? Is this how you treat a man -you have promised to call your friend?”</p> - -<p>“My friend!” Monica repeated the words -very slowly, with an inflection the meaning -of which could not be misunderstood; nor -did he affect to misunderstand her.</p> - -<p>“Lady Monica,” he said, “you have -heard some lying story, I perceive, trumped -up by that scoundrel you call your -husband.”</p> - -<p>He was forced to spring on one side -then, for Monica had urged her horse -forward, regardless of his presence, and -the flash in her eye made him recoil -for a moment; but he was wild with -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>rage, and sprang at her horse, catching him -by the bridle.</p> - -<p>“You shall hear me!” he cried. “You -shall, I say! You have heard his story, -now hear mine. He has brought false -reports. I know him of old. He is my -enemy. He has poisoned others against -me before now. Lady Monica, upon my -word of honour——”</p> - -<p>“<em>Your honour!</em>”</p> - -<p>That was all. Indeed, there was no -more to be said. Even Conrad felt that, -and his grasp upon the reins relaxed. -Monica was not in the least afraid of him. -She looked him steadily over as she moved -quietly onward, without the least haste or -flurry. Her quiet courage, her lofty scorn -of him, stung him to madness.</p> - -<p>“Very good, Lady Monica—I beg your -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>pardon—Lady Trevlyn, I should say now. -Very good. We understand each other -excellently well. You have made a -promise, only to break it—I will show you -how a vow <em>can</em> be kept. I, too, have -made a vow in my time. I make another -now. I have vowed to ruin the happiness -and prosperity of Randolph Trevlyn’s life; -now I will do more. I will destroy your -peace and happiness also!”</p> - -<p>He was following Monica as he spoke, -and there was a deep, steady malevolence -in every tone of his voice, and in each -word that he uttered, which gave something -of sinister significance to threats that -might well have been mere idle bravado. -Monica paid not the slightest heed. She -rode on as if she did not even hear; but -she wished she had her husband beside her. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>She was not afraid for herself, only for -him; and in his absence it was easy to be -haunted by vague, yet terrible, fears.</p> - -<p>But days sped by; news from Germany was -good. Randolph’s task was accomplished, -and he was on his way home; nay, he -would be there almost as soon as the letter -which announced him. He did not specify -exactly how he would come, but he bid -her look for him about dusk that very -day.</p> - -<p>How her heart throbbed with joy! She -could not strenuously combat Mrs. Pendrill’s -determination to return home at -once, so that husband and wife should be -alone on his return. She wanted Randolph -all to herself. She hungered for -him; she hardly knew how to wait for the -slowly crawling hours to pass.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> -<p>She drove Mrs. Pendrill to <abbr title="Saint">St.</abbr> Maws, -and on her return wandered aimlessly -about the great lonely house, saying to -herself, in a sort of ceaseless cadence:</p> - -<p>“He is coming. He is coming. He is -coming.”</p> - -<p>Dusk was falling in the dim house. The -shadows were growing black in the gloomy -hall, where Monica was restlessly pacing. -The last pale gleam of sunlight flickered -and faded as she watched and waited with -intense expectancy.</p> - -<p>A man’s firm step upon the terrace -without—a man’s tall shadow across the -threshold. Monica sprang forward with a -low cry.</p> - -<p>“Randolph!”</p> - -<p>“Not exactly that, Lady Trevlyn!”</p> - -<p>She stopped short, and threw up her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>head like some beautiful wild creature at -bay.</p> - -<p>“Sir Conrad, how <em>dare</em> you! Leave my -husband’s house this instant! Do you wish -him to find you here? Do you wish a -second chastisement at his hands?”</p> - -<p>Conrad’s face flushed crimson, darkening -with the intensity of his rage, as he heard -those last words.</p> - -<p>He had been drinking deeply; his usual -caution and cowardice were merged in a -passionate desire for revenge at all costs. -And what better revenge could he enjoy at -that moment than to be surprised by the -master of the house upon his return in -company with his wife? Monica had -asked him if he wished Randolph to find -him there—it was just that wish which had -brought him.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> -<p>“Monica!” he cried passionately, “you -shall hear me. I will be heard! You -shall not judge me till I can plead my own -cause. The veriest criminal is heard in his -defence.”</p> - -<p>He advanced a step nearer, but she -recoiled before him, and pointed to the -door.</p> - -<p>“Go, Sir Conrad, unless you wish to -be expelled by my servants. I will listen -to nothing.”</p> - -<p>She moved as if to summon assistance, -but he sprang forward and seized her -hand, holding her wrist in so fierce a -grasp that she could neither free herself -nor reach the bell. She was a prisoner at -his mercy.</p> - -<p>But Monica was a true Trevlyn, and a -stranger to mere physical fear. The madness -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>in his gleaming eyes, the ferocity of -his whole aspect, were sufficiently alarming. -She knew in this vast place that it -would be in vain to call for help, no one -would hear her voice; but she faced her -enemy with cool, inflexible courage, trusting -to her own strong will, and the -inherent cowardice of a man who could thus -insult a woman alone in her husband’s -house.</p> - -<p>“Loose me, Sir Conrad!” she said.</p> - -<p>“Not until you have heard me.”</p> - -<p>“I will not hear you. I know as much -of your story as there is any need I should. -Loose me, I say! Do you know that my -husband will be here immediately? Do -you wish <em>him</em> to expel you from his -house?”</p> - -<p>Conrad laughed wildly, a sort of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>demoniac laugh, that made her shudder -in spite of herself. Was he mad? Yes, -mad with drink and with fury—not -irresponsible, yet so blind, so crazed, so -possessed with thoughts of vengeance, that -he was almost more dangerous than a -raving maniac would have been. His eyes -glowed with sullen fire. His voice was -hoarse and strained.</p> - -<p>“Do I wish him to find me here? Yes, -I do—I do!” he laughed wildly. “Kiss -me, Monica—call me your friend again! -There is yet time—show him you are not -his slave—show him how you assert yourself -in his absence.”</p> - -<p>Monica recoiled with a cry of horror; -but the strength of madness was upon -him. He held her fast by the wrist. It -was unspeakably hideous to be alone -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>in that dim place with this terrible -madman.</p> - -<p>“Monica, I love you—you shall—you -must be mine!”</p> - -<p>Was that another step without? It was—it -was! Thank Heaven he had come!</p> - -<p>“Randolph! Randolph! Randolph!”</p> - -<p>Monica’s voice rang out with that -sudden piercing clearness that bespeaks -terror and distress.</p> - -<p>The next moment Conrad was hurled -backwards, with a force that sent him -staggering against the wall, breathless and -powerless. Before he could recover himself -he was lifted bodily off his feet, shaken -like a rat, and literally thrown down the -terrace steps, rolling over and over in the -descent, till he lay at the foot stunned, -bruised and shaken. He picked himself -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>slowly up, muttering curses as he limped -away. Little were his curses heeded by -the two he had left behind.</p> - -<p>Monica, white, trembling, unnerved by -all she had gone through during the past -minutes, held out her arms to her husband.</p> - -<p>“Randolph! Oh, Randolph!”</p> - -<p>He clasped her close to his heart, and -held her there as if he never meant to let -her go. He bent his head over her, -and she felt his kisses on her cheek. He -did not doubt—he did not distrust her! -His strong arms pressed her even closer -and closer. She lay against his breast, -feeling no wish ever to leave that shelter. -Oh, he was so true and noble—her own -loving, faithful husband! How she loved -him she had never known until that -supreme moment.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> -<p>At last she stirred in his arms and lifted -her face to his.</p> - -<p>“Randolph, you must never leave me -again,” she said. “I cannot bear it—I -cannot.”</p> - -<p>“I will not, my dear wife,” he answered. -“Never again shall aught but death part -thee and me.”</p> - -<p>She clung to him, half shuddering.</p> - -<p>“Ah! do not talk of death, Randolph. -I cannot bear it—I cannot listen.”</p> - -<p>He pressed a kiss upon her trembling -lips.</p> - -<p>“Does my wife love me now?” he -asked, very gravely and tenderly. “Let -me hear it from your own sweet lips, my -Monica.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, Randolph, I love, I love you;” she -lifted her eyes to his as she spoke. There -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>was something almost solemn in their deep, -earnest gaze. “Randolph, I do not think -any one but your wife could know such a -love as mine.”</p> - -<p>“Not your husband?” he asked, returning -her look with one equally full of -meaning. “Monica, you may love as well, -but I think you cannot love more than I -do.”</p> - -<p>She laid her head down again. It was -unspeakably sweet to hear him say so, to -feel his arms about her, to know that they -were united at last, and that nothing could -part them now.</p> - -<p>“Not even death,” said Monica to -herself; “for love like ours is stronger -than death.”</p> - -<p>“How came that scoundrel here?” -asked Randolph, somewhat later as they -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>stood together on the terrace, watching -the moonlight on the sea.</p> - -<p>“I think he came to frighten me—perhaps -to try and hurt us once more by his -wicked words and deeds. Randolph, is -he mad? He looked so dreadful to-day. -He was not the old Conrad I once knew. -It was terrible—till you came.”</p> - -<p>“I believe at times he is mad,” answered -Randolph, “with a sort of madness that -is not actual insanity, though somewhat -akin to it. It is the madness of ungovernable -passion and hatred that rises up in -him from time to time against certain -individuals, and becomes, as it seems, a -sort of monomania with him. It was so -with his friend and benefactor Colonel -Hamilton, when once he felt himself found -out. Ever since the horsewhipping I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>administered to him, I believe he has -felt vindictively towards me. Our paths -led us wide apart for several years, but as -soon as we met again the old enmity rose -up once more. He tried to hurt me -through my wife.” Randolph looked down -at her with a proud smile upon his handsome -face. “I need not say how utterly -and miserably he has failed.”</p> - -<p>Monica glanced up at him, a world of -loving confidence in her eyes; yet the -clinging clasp of her hands tightened upon -his arm. He fancied she trembled a little.</p> - -<p>“What is it, my Monica?”</p> - -<p>She pressed a little more closely towards -him.</p> - -<p>“Randolph, do you think he will try -to hurt you now—try to do you some -injury?”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> -<p>The husband smiled re-assuringly at her.</p> - -<p>“Hurt me? How, Monica?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know; but he has spoken -such cruel, wicked words. He said he -had vowed to ruin our happiness—he -looked as if he meant it—so vindictive, so -terrible!” she shivered a little.</p> - -<p>He took her hands, and held them in his -warm, strong clasp.</p> - -<p>“Are you afraid of what that bad man -says, Monica—a man who is a coward -and a scoundrel of the deepest dye? -Are you afraid of idle threats from his -lips? How could he ruin our happiness -now?”</p> - -<p>She looked up at him, still with a sort -of undefined trouble in her eyes.</p> - -<p>“He might hurt you, Randolph,” she -half whispered. “What hurts you, hurts -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>me. If—if—he were to take you away -from me——”</p> - -<p>Randolph laid his hand smilingly upon -her lips.</p> - -<p>“My darling, you are unnerved by the -fright he gave you. When was Monica -troubled by idle fears before?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know what I fear, Randolph; -but I have feelings sometimes—premonitions, -presentiments, and I cannot shake -them off. Ever since Conrad came, I felt -a kind of horror of him, even though I -tried to call him friend. Sometimes I think -it must mean something.”</p> - -<p>“No doubt it does,” answered Randolph. -“It is the natural shrinking of your pure -soul from his evil, vicious nature. I can -well understand it. It could hardly be -otherwise. He could not deceive you long.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> -<p>She looked gravely out before her.</p> - -<p>“No, I do not think he really deceived -me long—not my innermost self of all. -But I was very self-willed. I wanted to -judge for myself, and I could not judge -him rightly. I believed him. I did not -want to be unjust—and he deceived me.”</p> - -<p>Randolph smiled and laid his hand -caressingly upon her shoulder. She looked -up with a smile.</p> - -<p>“That is right, Monica. You must put -away these sad, wistful looks. We must -not let this evening’s happiness be marred -by any doubts and fears. You have your -husband again. Is not that enough?”</p> - -<p>She turned and laid her head against his -shoulder. His arm was fast about her in a -moment. She drew a long breath, almost -like a sigh.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> -<p>“Randolph, I think that moments like -this must be a foretaste of heaven.”</p> - -<p>He kissed her, and she added, low and -dreamily:</p> - -<p>“Only there, there will be no fear of -parting. Death could not part us there.”</p> - -<p>“Death could not sunder our hearts -even here, my Monica,” said Randolph. -“Some love is for eternity.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she answered, looking out over -the wide sea with a deep smile, that -seemed as if it were reading the future in -the vast, heaving expanse of moon-lit water. -“Our love is like that—not for time alone, -but for eternity.”</p> - -<p>He caught the gravity of her mood. -Some subtle sympathy drew them ever -closer and more close together.</p> - -<p>“And so,” he added gravely and tenderly, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>“we need fear nothing; for nothing -can alter that one great thing. Nothing -can change our love. We belong to one -another always—always.”</p> - -<p>She stood very still and quiet.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said, “for ever and ever. -Randolph, if we could both die to-night -I think it would be a happy thing for us.”</p> - -<p>“Why?”</p> - -<p>“Because then there would be no parting -to fear.”</p> - -<p>“And now?”</p> - -<p>“Now I do fear it. I fear it without -knowing why. <em>He</em> will part us if he -can.”</p> - -<p>Randolph strained his wife close to his -heart.</p> - -<p>“<em>If</em> he can! Monica, look up; put -away these idle fears, my love. Can I not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>take care of you and of myself? Let us -put him for ever out of our lives.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! if only we could!” breathed -Monica.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/i_124.jpg" width="400" height="62" alt="decoration" /> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> - - - -<h2 title="18. A SHADOW">CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH.<br /> - -<small>A SHADOW.</small></h2></div> - - -<p>The days that followed were very full of -happiness and peace for Monica and her -husband. They were alone together in -the dim old castle, far away from the busy -whirl of life they had so gladly left behind, -free to be with each other every moment -of the flying hours, learning to know and -to love one another with a more perfect -comprehending love with each succeeding -day.</p> - -<p>Not one tiny cloud of reserve or distrust -clouded the sunshine of their horizon. -Monica had laid before Randolph that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>unlucky letter of Lady Diana’s, had -listened with a sort of mingling of -delight and indignation to his comments -on the composition—delight to hear that -he had always loved her from the first, -that in gratifying her father’s desire he -had but been gratifying the dearest desire -of his own heart—indignation towards the -mischief-making relative, who had tried to -deceive and humiliate her, who had told -her one half of the story and concealed the -other.</p> - -<p>But indignation was only a momentary -feeling. Monica was too happy to cherish -resentment. Her anger was but a passing -spark.</p> - -<p>“I should like to speak my mind to -Lady Diana,” remarked Randolph, as he -tore the paper into small fragments and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>tossed them over the cliff. “I always -distrusted her wisdom, but I did not look -for deliberate malice like that. Why -did you not show me that letter when it -came, Monica, and let me see what I had -to say to it?”</p> - -<p>She looked up with a smile.</p> - -<p>“Because I was so foolish and distrustful -in those days. I did long to once, -but then came the thought—Suppose it -should be true?”</p> - -<p>And then they both smiled. There was -a charm and sweetness in thus discussing -the past, with the light of the happy present -shining upon it.</p> - -<p>“But she meant to be your friend, -Randolph. We must not forget that. I -suppose she thought that you would tell -me of your love, but that she ought to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>inform me of your generosity. Poor Aunt -Diana! we should get on better now. In -those days, Randolph, I think I was very -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">difficile</i>—very wilful and unapproachable. -I used to think it would kill me ever to -leave Trevlyn. I think now that it would -have been the ruin of me to stay. It is -not good to grow up in one narrow groove, -and to gain no knowledge of anything -beyond.”</p> - -<p>“That is quite true, Monica. Does -that mean that you will be willing to leave -Trevlyn, by and-bye?”</p> - -<p>“I shall be willing to do anything that -you wish, Randolph. You know I would -go anywhere with you. Do you want to -take me away again?”</p> - -<p>“Presently I think I do. I should like -to take you to Scotland in August, to stay -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>a month or two at my little shooting-box -there. You would like the free, roving -life you could lead there, amongst that -world of heather. And then there are -things to be done at Trevlyn. Monica, -will you be able to reconcile yourself to -changes here?”</p> - -<p>“Changes?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I should like to see Trevlyn -restored to what it must have been a -century ago. The glory has departed of -late years, but you have only to look round -to see what the place must have been once. -I want to restore that faded glory—not to -introduce glaring changes, but to make it -something like what it must have been when -our ancestors lived there long years ago. -Would you like that, Monica? It would -not go against you, would it, to see -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>Trevlyn look so? I want it to be -worthy of the mistress who will preside -there. It is a wish that has haunted me -ever since I entered its precincts and met -you there.”</p> - -<p>Monica was glad to enter into any plan -proposed by her husband. She was willing -he should restore Trevlyn in any way that -he wished; but she preferred that he -should make his own arrangements about -it, and let her only judge by the result. -She could not yet enter with any sense of -realisation into projects for making Trevlyn -other than she had known it all her life; -but she trusted Randolph’s taste and -judgment, and let him plan and settle -everything as he would.</p> - -<p>She was ready to leave home whenever -he wished it, the more so that Conrad -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>Fitzgerald still occupied a suite of rooms -in his half dismantled house, and hung -about the neighbourhood in an odd, aimless -sort of fashion.</p> - -<p>How he spent his time no one seemed -to know, but he must have developed -roving tendencies, for Monica was constantly -seeing him in unexpected places, -down by the rocky shore, wandering over -the trackless downs, or crouching in the -heather or behind a tree, as she and her -husband passed along in their daily walks -or rides.</p> - -<p>He never met them face to face. He -appeared to endeavour always to keep out -of sight. Randolph, as a matter of fact, -seldom saw him, and paid no heed, when -he did, to the vindictive scowl upon the -yet beautiful face. But Monica seemed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>haunted by this persistent watching and -waiting. She was ever on the look-out for -the crouching figure in some place of -concealment, for the glitter of the fierce -blue eyes, and the cruel sneer of the pale -lips. She felt intensely nervous and -timid beneath that sense of <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">espionage</i>; and -she was glad when August came, and -she was to leave Trevlyn and its spectre -behind.</p> - -<p>Accounts from Germany were very -good. Arthur wrote little pencil notes -every week, informing Monica that he -was getting on “like a house on fire,” and -singing the praises of Tom, who had stayed -so long with him, “like the good fellow -he was,” and would have remained longer -only it really wasn’t worth while.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I’ve been very unjust to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>Tom,” said Monica. “I want to tell him -so when he comes back. May we wait till -he does? I want to hear all about Arthur -at first hand, as I may not go to see him -yet.”</p> - -<p>So they waited for the return of the -traveller.</p> - -<p>Monica did sincerely wish to hear about -Arthur, but she had something else to report -to Tom as well. She had the greatest -confidence in his acuteness and penetration, -and could sometimes say to him what she -would have despaired of communicating -intelligibly to any one else.</p> - -<p>There was no difficulty in securing a -private interview when once he had come -back. Every one knew how anxious -Monica would be to hear every detail of -Arthur’s present life, and Tom resigned -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>himself, and told his tale with all possible -fulness and accuracy.</p> - -<p>Monica listened with an absorbed look -upon her face. When he had told all, she -said simply:</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Tom, for all your goodness -to him. I am very sorry I ever misunderstood -you, and said such hard things of -and to you. You have got the best of it -in the end, by heaping coals of fire upon -me.”</p> - -<p>He smiled slightly.</p> - -<p>“My dear Monica, you don’t suppose I -troubled my head over your ladyship’s -righteous wrath. I found it very amusing, -I assure you.”</p> - -<p>“I believe you did,” assented Monica, -smiling in turn; “which made things a -little trying for me. Tom, I believe you -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>have always been my friend, even when -we have seemed most bitterly opposed.”</p> - -<p>The sudden earnestness of her manner -made him look at her keenly, and he -spoke without his usual half-mocking intonation.</p> - -<p>“I hope so, Monica. I wish to have the -right to call myself your friend.”</p> - -<p>He looked steadily at her, knowing there -was more to follow. She was silent for a -time, and then came a sudden and most -unexpected question, and one apparently -most irrelevant.</p> - -<p>“Do you know Sir Conrad Fitzgerald?”</p> - -<p>“I used to know him when he was a -child. I knew him slightly at Oxford. -He has made no attempt to renew the -acquaintance since he has been down here; -and, judging by what I have heard, I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>should not be inclined to encourage him if -he did.”</p> - -<p>“But there would be nothing extraordinary -in your visiting him?”</p> - -<p>“Possibly not; but I cannot say I have -any wish to try the experiment.”</p> - -<p>“You know his history, perhaps?—the -dark stain.”</p> - -<p>“I heard of it at the time it happened—not -from Trevlyn, though. It’s a sort of -story that doesn’t make one yearn to renew -acquaintance with the hero.”</p> - -<p>For a few moments Monica sat very -still and silent. Then she asked quietly:</p> - -<p>“Do you think he is the kind of man to -be dangerous?”</p> - -<p>“Dangerous?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—if he had taken a vow of vengeance. -Do you think——?”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> -<p>“Well, what?”</p> - -<p>“Think he would try very hard to -accomplish such a vow? Do people never -in these days try to do an injury to a -man they hate?”</p> - -<p>Tom began to understand her now.</p> - -<p>“Well, one cannot lay down hard and -fast lines; but it is not now customary for -a man to attempt the sort of vengeance -that he would have done a century or so -back. He tries in these days to hurt an -enemy morally by injuring his reputation; -and I think no one need stand in much -awe of Fitzgerald, least of all a man like -your husband. It is necessary to possess a -reputation of one’s own to undermine that -of another with much success. Fitzgerald -certainly has a reputation, but not the kind -that makes him dangerous as an enemy.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> -<p>Monica heard this dictum in silence. -She did not appear much relieved, and he -saw it.</p> - -<p>“Now you anticipate,” he continued, -quite quietly and unemotionally, “that -he will make a regular attack upon Trevlyn -one of these days?”</p> - -<p>“I am afraid so sometimes,” answered -Monica. “It may be very foolish; but I -am afraid. He always seems watching us. -Hardly a day goes by but I see him, with -such an evil look in his eye. Tom, I -sometimes think that he is going mad.”</p> - -<p>The young man’s face changed slightly.</p> - -<p>“That, of course, would put a new -colour on the matter. Have you any reasons -upon which to base your suspicions?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing that you would perhaps call -reasons, but they make me suspicious. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>Randolph, spoke of a touch of insanity that -he had fancied lurked in his brain. At -least, when he hates he seems to hate with -a ferocity that suggests the idea of madness. -Tom, if you were to see him, should you -know?”</p> - -<p>Tom mused a little.</p> - -<p>“I might be able to hazard a shrewd -guess, perhaps. Why do you want so much -to know?”</p> - -<p>Without answering, Monica propounded -another question. “If he were mad, he -would be much more dangerous, would he -not?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; and if really dangerous, could be -placed under proper control.”</p> - -<p>A look of relief crossed Monica’s face.</p> - -<p>“Could that be done?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly, if absolute madness could be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>proved. But you know in many cases -this is most difficult to demonstrate; and -in Fitzgerald’s independent position it -might be exceedingly hard to get the -needful evidence.”</p> - -<p>Her face clouded again.</p> - -<p>“But you will see him, Tom? You will -try to find out?”</p> - -<p>He hesitated a little. To tell the truth -he did not care about the job. He had a -hearty contempt for the man himself, did -not attach much weight to Monica’s -suspicions, and thought her fears far-fetched. -But her pleading face prevailed.</p> - -<p>“Well, Monica, if you particularly wish -it, I will endeavour to meet him, and -enter into a sort of speaking acquaintance. -I don’t promise to force myself -upon him if he avoids me pointedly, but I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>will do what I can in a casual sort of way -to find out something about him. But it -is not at all likely he will prove mad -enough to be placed under restraint.”</p> - -<p>“I believe he drinks,” said Monica, softly. -“He used not to, but I believe he does -now.”</p> - -<p>“Well, if he has a screw loose and -drinks as well, he may make an end of -himself in time. At any rate, if it will -relieve your mind, I will find out what -I can about him.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Tom; I am very much -obliged to you; and if you cannot do -much, at least you can keep your eye -upon him, and let me know how long -he stays here. I—I—it may be very -foolish; but I don’t want Randolph to -come back till he has gone.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> -<p>Tom’s eyebrows went up.</p> - -<p>“Then you really are afraid?”</p> - -<p>She smiled faintly.</p> - -<p>“I believe I am.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it sounds very absurd; but I -have a sort of a faith in your premonitions. -Anyway, I will keep your words in -mind, and do what I can; and -we will try and get him off the field -before you are ready to return to it. I -should not think the attractions of the -place will hold him long.”</p> - -<p>So Monica went off to Scotland with a -lightened heart; and yet the shadow of -the haunting fear did not vanish entirely -even in the sunshine of her great happiness.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> - - - -<h2 title="19. IN SCOTLAND">CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH.<br /> - -<small>IN SCOTLAND.</small></h2> -</div> - -<p>“An empty sky and a world of heather.”</p> - -<p>Such was the scene that met Monica’s -eye as she stepped out into the clear -morning sunshine, and gazed out over -the wide expanse of moorland that lay -in a kind of purple glory all around -her.</p> - -<p>Randolph’s shooting-box was situated -in a very lonely, yet wonderfully picturesque -spot. It seemed as if it had -just been dropped down upon its little -craggy eminence amid this rolling sea of -billowy heather, and had anchored itself -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>there without more ado. There was no -attempt at park or garden, or enclosed -ground of any kind. The moor itself was -park and garden in one, and the heather -and gorse grew right up to the wide -terrace walk upon which the south -windows of the little house opened. A -plantation of pine and fir behind gave -protection from the winter winds, and -shade from the summer sun; but save for -this little wood—an oasis in a blooming -desert—the moor stretched away in its -wild freedom on every hand, the white -road alone, glimpses of which could be -seen here and there, seeming to connect -it with the great world beyond.</p> - -<p>Trevlyn was lonely and isolated enough, -but it almost seemed to Monica, as she -gazed over the sunny moorland that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>glorious summer morning, as if she had -never been so utterly remote from the -abode of man as she was to-day.</p> - -<p>There was a step behind her, and a hand -was laid upon her shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Well, Monica?”</p> - -<p>She turned to him with lips that -quivered as they smiled.</p> - -<p>“It is all so exquisite, Randolph—so -perfect. You did not tell me half.”</p> - -<p>“You like it, my Monica?”</p> - -<p>“Like it! It seems as if you and I were -just alone in the world together.” He -bent his head and touched her brow with -his lips.</p> - -<p>“And that contents you, Monica?”</p> - -<p>She looked up with eloquent eyes.</p> - -<p>“Need you ask that question now?”</p> - -<p>His smile expressed an unspeakable -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>happiness; he put his arm about her -saying softly:</p> - -<p>“There are some questions one never -tires of hearing answered, sweet wife. -Ah, Monica! when I think of the past, I -feel as if it were almost necessary to have -lived through that, to know what such -happiness as ours can be. It is the former -doubt that makes the present certainty so -unutterably sweet. Do you ever feel that -yourself, my darling?”</p> - -<p>He spoke gravely and gently, as they -stood together in the golden sunshine. She -looked up into his face with deep love -and reverence, yet he felt her slight form -quiver in his clasp. He looked at her -smilingly.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Monica?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing—only a strange feeling I have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>sometimes. I know what you mean, -Randolph. You are quite, quite right—only -do not let us to-day think of the -sorrow that went before. Let us be happy -with one another.”</p> - -<p>“We will, my Monica. You are quite -right. This is our bridal holiday, of which -circumstances cheated us at the outset, -and as such we will enjoy it. Come in to -breakfast now; and then we will have the -horses out, and you and I will explore our -new world together, and forget there is any -other before or behind us.”</p> - -<p>The shadow fled from Monica’s brow, the -happy light came back to her eyes, came -back and took up its abode there as if -never to depart again. What happy, -happy days were those that followed! No -one invaded the solitude which was such -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>bliss to the two who had sought it; no -foot crossed the threshold of the peaceful -home that Randolph had made ready with -such care for the reception of his bride.</p> - -<p>And yet, as everything must end at last, -pleasure as well as pain, joy as well as -sorrow, a day came at last when it was -needful to leave this happy seclusion, and -mingle once again with the busier stream -of life that flowed onwards, ever onwards, -outside the walls of their retreat.</p> - -<p>Engagements had been made before, -pledges given to various friends that visits -should be paid during that period so dear -to the heart of man, “the shooting season.” -Little enough did Randolph care for sport in -his present mood; far rather would he have -spent longer time alone with his wife in -happy isolation; but his friends became -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>urgent, letters persecuted them with increased -vehemence, and Monica, casting -away her first reluctance, roused herself -to say at last that she thought they ought -to go.</p> - -<p>“We shall be together still, Randolph,” -she said, with a little laugh. “It is not -as if we should not have one another. -No one can separate us now, and we -ought to be able to be happy anywhere -together.”</p> - -<p>And yet, when the time came, it was -very hard to go. Randolph came upon -Monica the last evening at sunset, watching -the glorious pageantry of the sky, with -something of the old wistfulness upon her -face.</p> - -<p>“You are sorry to be leaving then, -Monica?”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> -<p>She started, and turned to him, almost as -if for protection.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I am sorry. We have been so -very, very happy here. Randolph, is it -very foolish? Sometimes I feel as if such -happiness were too great for this world—as -if it <em>could</em> not go on always so. It -seems almost too beautiful, too perfect. -Do you ever feel the same?”</p> - -<p>“I know what you mean, sweet wife. -Yet I am not afraid of our happiness or of -the future. It is love that brings the -brightness with it, and I think nothing now -can change our love.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, no, no!” she cried impetuously; -“nothing can change that. You always -understand. Randolph, you are so strong, -so good, so patient. Ah! what should I -do without you now?”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> -<p>“You have not got to do without me, -Monica. A husband cannot be set aside -by anyone or anything. You must not let -nervous fears get the better of you. Tell -me, is anything troubling you to-night?”</p> - -<p>“No, no; only that the old feeling will -sometimes come back. It is foolish, I -know; but I cannot quite rid myself of -it.”</p> - -<p>“The old feeling?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, that some trouble is coming upon -me—upon us. I cannot explain; but I -feel it sometimes—I feel as if it were -coming nearer.”</p> - -<p>He did not laugh at her fears. He only -said very gently and tenderly:</p> - -<p>“I pray God, my sweet wife, that -trouble may be very far away from you; -yet if it comes, I know it will be bravely, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>nobly borne, and that the furnace of -sorrow will only bring out the gold more -bright and pure than ever.”</p> - -<p>She glanced at him, and then over the -purple moorlands and into the glorious -western sky. A look of deep, settled purpose -shone out of her eyes, and her face grew -calm and resolute. She thought of that -moment often in days to come, and of her -husband’s words. It was a recollection -always fraught with much of strengthening -comfort.</p> - -<p>The round of inevitable visits to be -paid proved less irksome than Monica had -anticipated.</p> - -<p>Randolph’s friends were pleasant, well-bred -people, with whom it was easy to get -on, and to make things more easy for -Monica, Beatrice Wentworth and her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>brother were not unfrequently numbered -among the house party they were invited -to meet.</p> - -<p>Both the young earl and his sister were devoted -to Monica, and their presence added -much to her enjoyment of the different visits -that they paid together. Lord Haddon was -her constant attendant whenever her husband -could not be with her, and his frank, -boyish homage was accepted in the spirit -in which it was offered. Monica, though -much admired and liked, was not “popular” -in the ordinary sense of the term. -She did not attract round her a crowd of -amused admirers, as Beatrice did, and most -young men, however much they might -admire her stately beauty, found her -somewhat difficult to get on with. With -elderly people she was more at ease, and a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>great favourite from her gentleness and -peculiar refinement of thought and -manner; but for the most part, during -the gay doings of the day, she was left to -the attendance of Randolph or Haddon, -and no arrangement could have been more -to her own liking.</p> - -<p>Yet one trifling incident occurred to -disturb her peace of mind, although she -thought she possibly dwelt upon it more -than the circumstance warranted.</p> - -<p>She was at a large luncheon party, to -which her hostess and guests had alike -been invited to meet many other parties -from surrounding houses.</p> - -<p>A grand battue in the park had drawn -away most of the sportsmen, and the -ladies were lunching almost by themselves. -Monica’s surprise was somewhat great to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>find in her right-hand neighbour none other -than Cecilia Bellamy, with whom her last -interview had been anything but agreeable.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Bellamy, however, seemed to have -forgotten all about that.</p> - -<p>“It is really you, Monica. I hoped I -should meet you somewhere; I heard you -were staying about; I know I’ve behaved -badly. I ought to have written to you -when your father died. I was awfully -sorry, I was indeed. We were always -fond of the earl, Conrad and I. He was -so good to us when we were children. It -was horrid of me not to write, but I never -do know how to write a letter of condolence. -I hope you’re not very angry -with me.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed, no,” answered Monica. “Indeed, -I never thought about it.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> -<p>“I knew you wouldn’t care to hear from -me,” pursued the lively little woman. “I -didn’t behave nicely to you, Monica, and -I’m sorry now I listened to Conrad’s persuasions; -but I’m so easy-going, and -thought it all fun. I’m sorry now. I -really am, for I’ve got shaken in my confidence -in Master Conrad. I believe he’ll -go to the dogs still, for all his professions. -By-the-bye, did you ever see him after you -got back to Trevlyn?”</p> - -<p>“Once or twice. I believe he was living -in his house down there.”</p> - -<p>“That dreadful old barn! I can’t think -how he can exist there. He will take -to drink, and go mad, I do believe, if -he stays six months in such a place. -Monica, I don’t want to frighten you—I -may be silly to think such a thing, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>but I can’t believe he’s after any good -there.”</p> - -<p>Monica shivered a little instinctively.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t quite know what I do mean. -If you weren’t such an old friend, of course -I couldn’t say a word; but you know -perhaps that there’s something rather odd -sometimes about Conrad.”</p> - -<p>“Odd?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—I know he’s bad enough; but it’s -when he has his odd fits on that he’s worse. -I don’t believe he is always altogether -responsible. He’s given way, and now he -can’t always help himself, I do think. He -isn’t mad, of course, but he can be very -wild at times,” and she glanced at her companion -with something of significance.</p> - -<p>“Why do you say all this to me?” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>asked Monica, with a sort of apprehension.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Bellamy laughed a little.</p> - -<p>“Why, can’t you see? Don’t you know -how he hates your husband?”</p> - -<p>Monica’s face blanched a little.</p> - -<p>“But you don’t mean——”</p> - -<p>“No, no, of course not,” with a short -laugh that had little of mirth in it. “I -don’t mean anything—only I think, if ever -Conrad is lurking about in his wild moods, -that Lord Trevlyn had better keep a sharp -look out. Your woods and cliffs are nasty -lonely places, and it’s always well to be on -the safe side.”</p> - -<p>Monica sat pale and silent; Mrs. -Bellamy laughed again in that half uneasy -way.</p> - -<p>“Now, don’t look like that, and keep -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>your own counsel. I’m a silly woman, -as you know, and nobody minds what I -say, but I can’t be quite comfortable -without just warning you. For mischief is -sometimes done in a moment between two -angry men that never can be undone so -long as the world lasts. Now don’t go and -get frightened, Monica—it may be all a -ridiculous fancy; but just keep your eyes -open.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Cecilia,” said Monica -quietly. “I will.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/i_159.jpg" width="400" height="56" alt="decoration" /> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> - - - -<h2 title="20. A VISIT TO ARTHUR">CHAPTER THE TWENTIETH.<br /> - -<small>A VISIT TO ARTHUR.</small></h2></div> - - -<p>“Are you getting tired of this sort of -thing, Monica?” asked Randolph, about -three days later.</p> - -<p>He had fancied he detected traces of -weariness at times—weariness or anxiety: -he could hardly have told which—in the -lines of her face; and he thought that -possibly some trouble was resting upon -her. He was very quick to note the least -change in one he loved so well.</p> - -<p>Her smile, however, was very reassuring.</p> - -<p>“I think I should never be really tired -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>of any life you shared, Randolph; but I -like being alone together best.”</p> - -<p>“I, too,” he responded, with great -sincerity. “Monica, as we have done our -duty by society now, shall we indulge ourselves -once more, and leave the world to -wag on its own way, and forget it again -for a few more happy weeks?”</p> - -<p>Her face was bright and eager.</p> - -<p>“Go back to the moorland shooting-box, -Randolph?” she questioned.</p> - -<p>“No; not that quite. The season is -getting a little late for remaining up in the -north. I have a better plan in my head -for you.”</p> - -<p>“Are we going back to Trevlyn, -then?”</p> - -<p>“Trevlyn is not ready for us; it will -be some time before it is. Can you think -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>of nothing else you would like to do?—of -nobody you want to see?”</p> - -<p>A flush rose suddenly into Monica’s face: -her eyes shone with happiness.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Randolph! are you going to take -me to see Arthur?”</p> - -<p>“You would like to go?”</p> - -<p>“Above everything.”</p> - -<p>“Then the thing is done. We will start -next week. I talked about it to the doctor -when I saw him, and he advised three -months of entire quiet and seclusion whilst -he settled down to the new life. After -that, he believed there would be no reason -at all against his seeing friends from home. -I wrote again last week to put the question -definitely, and the answer is entirely satisfactory. -If you want to go, Monica, the -whole question is settled.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> -<p>She came close up to him, clasping her -hands upon his shoulder, and looking up -with loving gratitude and delight.</p> - -<p>“You think of everything, Randolph. -You are so good to me. It is just the one -thing to make my happiness complete: to -see my boy again, and make sure with -my own eyes that he is well cared for and -content with his life. I want to be able to -picture him where he is. I want to hear -him say that he is happy: that he does -not pine after Trevlyn.”</p> - -<p>“I think you will have your wish, then, -Monica, for, from what I can gather, he -is very well pleased with his quarters, and -improved health makes life pleasant and -full of zest. He has the natural love of -change that you never knew, and your -inherited love for your old home is not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>really shared by him to any great extent -now that he has tried another life. Trevlyn -is not woven into the very fibres of -his heart as into yours. I think the home-sickness -passed off quickly with him.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I daresay. I believe I was foolish -myself about Trevlyn, and taught him to -be foolish too. Why is it that the younger -we are, and the less we know, the more we -are convinced we are always right? I -have made so many, many mistakes. -Once I thought you did not love me, -Randolph.”</p> - -<p>It was sweet to him still to hear her -speak thus, with the intonation that -always thrilled him through—with the -look upon her face so much more eloquent -than any words. It was sweet to feel her -loving confidence and dependence. Again -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>and again he vowed deep down in his -heart that she should never know a trouble -from which he could save her.</p> - -<p>The journey was approved by both. It -would take them away once again from -the round of social duties and pleasures—of -which for the time being they had had -enough—and leave them practically alone -together, to be all in all to one another, as -was now their greatest happiness.</p> - -<p>“It is too bad of you to run away, -Monica,” Beatrice grumbled, when she -heard the news. “Your brother can’t -want you more than we do here. And if -you go, you’ll vanish no one knows for -how long, as you did before, and then you -will go and bury yourselves in your enchanted -castle right away by the sea, and -nobody will hear of you any more. I call -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>it too bad: just as we were getting to be -friends and learning to know you.”</p> - -<p>Monica smiled at the imputation of vanishing -so entirely.</p> - -<p>“You shall hear of us sometimes, I -promise you,” she answered. “If you and -your brother will not find the ‘enchanted -castle’ too dull, I hope you will come -and see us there when we go back in the -autumn. There are not a great many -attractions, I am afraid, but there is some -shooting and hunting. I should like to -show you Trevlyn some day, Beatrice, -though I believe it will be a good deal -changed from the place I have sometimes -described to you.”</p> - -<p>“It is sure to be perfect, whatever it is -like,” was the quick response. “I should -think we would come—Haddon and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>—if -ever we get an invitation. I always -did long to see Trevlyn, and I am sure he -does the same, though he is no hand at -pretty speeches, poor old boy!”</p> - -<p>Haddon smiled, and coloured a little; -but answered frankly enough.</p> - -<p>“Lady Trevlyn does not want pretty -speeches, as you call it, made to her, -Beatrice. She knows quite well what a -pleasure it would be to visit her and Randolph -at Trevlyn.”</p> - -<p>“I should like my husband’s oldest -friends to see the place,” she answered, -smiling. “So we will call that matter -settled when we really do get home; -though I do not quite know when that -will be.”</p> - -<p>Next day Randolph and Monica said -good-bye to Scotland, and began their -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>journey southward. They were in no -great haste, and travelled by easy stages. -Arthur was to be told nothing of the -prospective visit, which was to be kept as -a surprise till the last moment. Monica -was never a very good correspondent, even -where Arthur was concerned, and if she -posted a letter to him, last thing before -leaving England, he would not be surprised -at a silence of a fortnight or more, by -which time at latest she would be with him.</p> - -<p>So they took their time over their -journey, and the strangeness of all she saw -possessed a curious charm for Monica, when -viewed beneath her husband’s protecting -care, and in his constant company. He -took her to a few quaint Norman towns, -with their fine old churches and picturesque -streets and market-places; then to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>Paris, where a few days were passed in -seeing the sights, and watching the vivid, -hurrying, glittering life of that gay -capital.</p> - -<p>Steering an erratic course, turning this -way and that to visit any place of interest, -or any romantic spot that Randolph -thought would please his wife, they approached -their destination, and presently -reached the pretty, picturesque little town, -hardly more than a village, which was only -just rising to importance, on account of -the value of its mineral springs lately -discovered.</p> - -<p>One good-sized hotel and the doctor’s -establishment, both of which stood at the -same end of the village, and a little distance -from it, testified to the rising importance -of the place. Randolph had secured comfortable -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>rooms in the former, where they -arrived late one evening.</p> - -<p>Monica liked the place; it was not in -the least like what she had pictured, far -more pretty, more primitive, and more -country-like. Wooded hills, surrounded -the valley in which it lay. A broad -rapid stream ran through it, spanned -by more than one grey stone bridge, -and the irregularly-built village was -quite a picture in its way, with its -quaint old houses, with their carved -gables and little wooden balconies, and -the spire of its church rising above the -surrounding trees. Viewed by moonlight, -as she saw it first, it was a charming little -place; and the charm did not vanish with -the more prosaic light of day.</p> - -<p>The interview with the doctor was most -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>satisfactory. He was a kindly, simple-minded -man, much interested in his patient -from a professional standpoint, and fond -of the lad for his own sake. Monica’s -beauty and sweetness were evidently not -lost upon him. He had heard much of -her from the young Herr, he explained, -and could understand well the feelings he -had so often heard expressed.</p> - -<p>No, the invalid had not been told of the -expected arrival. He did not know but -that Lord and Lady Trevlyn were in -England. Did the noble lady wish to go -to him? He would honour himself by -leading the way.</p> - -<p>Monica followed him with a beating -heart. They went up a wide carpetless -staircase, and on the first landing her guide -paused, and indicated a certain door.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> -<p>“He is up; madame can go straight in. -A joyful surprise will but do him good.”</p> - -<p>Monica turned the handle, and entered, -as quietly and calmly as if this had been -the daily visit to the old room at Trevlyn. -Arthur was lying with his back to the -door. He was reading, and did not turn -his head, fancying it was the servant entering, -as he heard the rustle of a dress.</p> - -<p>Monica came and stood behind him, -laying her hand upon his head.</p> - -<p>“Arthur!” she said softly.</p> - -<p>Then he started as if he had been shot.</p> - -<p>He sat up with an energy that showed a -decided increase of strength, holding out -his hands in eager welcome.</p> - -<p>“Monica! Monica!” he cried, in a sort -of rapturous excitement. “It is Monica -herself!”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> -<p>She bent over him and kissed him again -and again, and would have made him lie -down again; but he was too excited to -obey.</p> - -<p>“Monica! My own Monica! When did -you come? What does it all mean? Oh, -this is too splendid! Where’s Randolph?”</p> - -<p>“Here,” answered that familiar voice, -just within the door. “Well, my boy, how -are you getting on? Like a house on fire, -eh? Monica and I are on our wedding -trip, you know. We thought we would -finish it off by coming to have a look at -you. Well, you look pretty comfortable -up here, and have made fine progress, I -hear, since I saw you last. Like everything -as much as you make out in your -letters, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Oh! I’m all right enough. Never -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>mind me. Tell me about yourselves. -Whose idea was this? I call it just -splendid!”</p> - -<p>“Randolph’s idea,” answered Monica. -“All the good ideas are his now, Arthur. -We have come to stay a whole fortnight -with you; and when I have seen everything -with my own eyes, and am quite -convinced that everybody is treating you -well, I shall go home content to Trevlyn, -to wait till you can join us there.”</p> - -<p>“I mustn’t think of that just yet,” -answered Arthur, cheerfully. “My old -doctor says it will be a year—perhaps two—before -I shall really be on my legs again; -but he is quite sure he is going to cure me, -which is all that matters. I am awfully -comfortable here, and there are some jolly -little children of his, who come and amuse -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>me by the hour together. Oh, yes! I have -capital times. I couldn’t be more comfortable -anywhere: and if you and -Randolph come sometimes to see me, I -shall have nothing left to wish for.”</p> - -<p>Certainly Arthur was surrounded by -every luxury that wealth could bestow. -There was none of the foreign bareness -about his rooms that characterised its -other apartments. Randolph had ordered -everything that could possibly add to his -comfort, and make things home-like for -him, even to the open fire-place, with its -cheerful fire of logs, although the stove still -retained its place, and in cold weather did -valuable service in keeping an even -temperature in the room.</p> - -<p>Arthur’s visitors had made him gradually -understand how much more sumptuously -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>he was lodged than other patients, and he -well knew to whom he owed the luxuries -he enjoyed. He explained all this to -Monica, and in her own sweet way she -thanked her husband for his tenderness -towards her boy.</p> - -<p>“I always feel as if Arthur were a sort -of link between us, Monica,” he said. “I -am sure he was in those old days, when we -were strangers to each other. I owe him a -great deal that he knows nothing about. -Were it only for that, I must always love -him, and feel towards him as towards a -brother.”</p> - -<p>Quickly and happily the days slipped by -and the pleasant visit drew to its close. It -lengthened out into nearly three weeks; -but at last the news came that Trevlyn was -ready for its master and mistress, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>Arthur bid a brave farewell to those who -had done so much for him, and settled himself -with cheerful readiness to his winter -with his new friends. A visit next spring -and summer was confidently promised, and -he saw his guest go with an unselfish -brightness that was in no way assumed.</p> - -<p>Monica was quite happy about him -now, and, though the parting was a little -hard, she was as brave as he. She turned -her face homeward with a light heart. -Only one little cloud of anxiety lay upon -her heart. “What was Conrad Fitzgerald -doing? Was he still lurking about -Trevlyn?”</p> - -<p>Even that question was destined to be -answered in a satisfactory manner before -many days had passed.</p> - -<p>They travelled rapidly homewards, as -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>the season was advancing, and they were -anxious to be once more at Trevlyn.</p> - -<p>They were in a train, which had stopped -at some station, when another train from -an opposite direction steamed up and also -stopped. Monica, leaning back in her -corner seat, noticed nothing for a time, but -was roused to the consciousness that she -was being intently regarded by a passenger -in the opposite train, whose face was -pressed close against the glass.</p> - -<p>For some seconds she resisted the impulse -to look; but as she felt the glance withdrawn, -she presently turned her eyes in the -direction of the half-seen face, and then -she started violently.</p> - -<p>Conrad Fitzgerald, his face pale and -sharp, wearing a frightfully malevolent -expression, was gazing, or rather glaring, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>at her husband, with eyes like those of a -wild beast, in their fiery, hungry hate.</p> - -<p>Randolph, seated opposite her, reading -the paper, was perfectly unconscious of -the proximity of his foe; but Monica -recoiled with a feeling of horror she could -hardly have explained.</p> - -<p>The next moment the train had moved -on. At least, it was some comfort to know -that they were being rapidly carried in -opposite directions. Yet it was long before -she could forget the vindictive hatred of -the gaze she had seen directed towards her -husband.</p> - -<p>Would Conrad Fitzgerald ever do him -the deadly injury he had vowed?</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> - - - -<h2 title="21. BACK AT TREVLYN">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIRST.<br /> - -<small>BACK AT TREVLYN.</small></h2></div> - - -<p>“Randolph! Can this really be -Trevlyn?”</p> - -<p>The young countess stood in all her -radiant loveliness upon the threshold of her -old home, and turned her happy face -towards the husband who stood beside her, -watching with a smile in his eyes for the -effect to be produced by his labour of -love.</p> - -<p>“Can this really be Trevlyn?”</p> - -<p>“You seemed destined never to know -your old home again when you have been -banished from it, Monica,” he answered, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>smiling. “Well, is it as much changed as -you expected?”</p> - -<p>“It is perfect,” said Monica simply; -adding, after another long look round her: -“If only my father could have seen this—could -have lived to witness the realisation -of his dream!”</p> - -<p>But he would not let her indulge one sad -thought that should cloud the brightness -of this happy home-coming. He kissed her -gently in token of his sympathy, and then -drew her towards the blazing fire, whose -dancing flames were illuminating the great -hall.</p> - -<p>“Does it realise your dream, too, my -Monica?” he asked softly.</p> - -<p>She looked up in his face, deep feeling -welling up in the glance of her soft dark -eyes.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> -<p>“To be with you is my dream, -Randolph. That is enough for me.”</p> - -<p>He saw that she was moved, and knew -that the associations of Trevlyn, the old -home, were crowding upon her. Without -speaking, he led her towards a door, which -in old days led to a room vast and empty, -save for the odds and ends of lumber that -gradually accumulated there. Monica -glanced up in a sort of surprise as he -turned the handle. Why was he taking -her there?</p> - -<p>She paused on the threshold, and looked -about her in mute amaze.</p> - -<p>The floor was of polished parquetrie -work; the panelled walls, quaintly and -curiously carved, shone with the care that -had been bestowed upon them; the -vaulted roof had been carefully restored -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>and was a fine specimen of mediæval skill -and beauty. The mullioned window to the -west had been filled with rich stained glass, -that gave back a dusky glimmer through -its tinted panes, though the daylight was -failing fast. Near to the window stood the -one great feature of the room, an organ, -which Monica’s eyes saw at once was a -particularly fine and perfect instrument. -An organ of her very own! It was just -like Randolph to think of it! She gave -him one sweet glance of gratitude, and -went up to it in the dim, dusky twilight.</p> - -<p>“How good you are to me!” she said -softly.</p> - -<p>He heard the little quiver in her voice, -and bent his head to kiss her; but he -spoke in a lighter tone.</p> - -<p>“Do you like it? I am so glad! I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>thought your home ought not to be -without its music-room. See, Monica, -your organ will be a sort of friend to whom -you can confide all your secrets; for you -want nobody to blow it for you. You can -set the bellows at work by just turning -this handle, and nobody need disturb -your solitude when you want to be alone.”</p> - -<p>She looked up gratefully. He never -forgot anything—not even her old love for -solitude.</p> - -<p>“I never want to be alone now, -Randolph,” she said. “I always want -you.”</p> - -<p>“And you generally have me, sweet -wife. I think we have hardly been -separated for more than a few hours at a -time since that happy, happy day that made -you really mine.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> -<p>“I want it always to be like that,” said -Monica, dreamily; “always like that.”</p> - -<p>He looked at her, and carried the hand -that he held to his lips.</p> - -<p>“Will you play, Monica?”</p> - -<p>She sat down and struck a few dreamy -chords, gradually leading up to the theme -that was in her mind. Randolph leaned -against the mullioned window-frame and -watched her. He could see, even in the -darkness, the pure, pale outline of her -perfect profile, and the crown of her -golden hair that framed her face like an -aureole.</p> - -<p>“Another dream realised, Monica,” he -said softly, as she turned to him at length.</p> - -<p>“What dream, Randolph?”</p> - -<p>“A dream that came to me once, in the -little cliff church where we were married, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>as I watched you—little as you knew it—sitting -at the organ, and playing to yourself, -one sunny afternoon. But this is -better than any dream of pictured saint -or spirit—my Monica, my own true wife.”</p> - -<p>She looked up at him, and came and put -her arms about his neck—an unusual -demonstration, even now, for her, and they -stood very close together in the gathering -darkness that was not dark to them.</p> - - -<p class="mt2">Monica paid an early visit to <abbr title="Saint">St.</abbr> Maws -to see her friends, and to confide to Mrs. -Pendrill a little of the wonderful happiness -that had flooded her life with sunshine. -Then, too, she wanted to see Tom, and to -ask him the result of the mission he had -half promised to undertake. So far she -had learned nothing save that Fitzgerald -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>had not been seen near Trevlyn for many -weeks, and was supposed to have gone -abroad.</p> - -<p>“Did you see him, Tom?” she asked, -when she had found the opportunity she -desired.</p> - -<p>“Yes, once or twice. I had a good -look at him. I should not call him exactly -mad, though in a decidedly peculiar mental -state. We merely met, as it were, by -chance, and talked on indifferent subjects -for the most part. Once he asked me, in a -sort of veiled way, for professional advice, -describing certain unpleasant symptoms -and sensations. I advised him to give up -the use of spirits, and to try what travelling -would do for him. He seemed to think -he would take my advice, and shortly -afterwards he disappeared from the neighbourhood; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>but where he has gone I do not -know.”</p> - -<p>Monica knew that this advice had been -followed. “He may go anywhere he likes, -if he will only keep away from here,” she -said. “I am very much obliged to you, -Tom, for doing as I asked.”</p> - -<p>“Pray don’t mention it.”</p> - -<p>“I must mention it, because it was very -good of you. Tom, will you come and -stay at Trevlyn next week? We have one -or two people coming for the pheasants, -and we want you to make one of the party, -if you will.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, very well; anything to please. I have -had no shooting worth speaking of so far. -I should like a week’s holiday very well.”</p> - -<p>So that matter was speedily and easily -arranged.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> -<p>Tom did not ask who were the guests he -was to meet, and Monica did not think of -naming such entire strangers, Lord Haddon -and Lady Beatrice Wentworth. She forgot -that Tom and the young earl had met once -before on a different occasion.</p> - -<p>Those two were to be the first guests. -Perhaps later on they would ask more, but -Monica was too entirely happy in her -present life to wish it in any way disturbed, -and Randolph by no means cared to be -obliged to give up to guests those happy -hours that heretofore he had always spent -with Monica. But Beatrice and her -brother had already been invited. They -were his oldest friends, and were Monica’s -friends too. She was glad to welcome them -to her old home, and the rapturous -admiration that its beauties elicited would -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>have satisfied a more exacting nature than -hers.</p> - -<p>Beatrice was, as usual, radiant, bewitching, -delightful. Monica wished that Tom -had come in time to see her arrival, and -listen to her sparkling flow of talk. Tom -professed to be a woman-hater, or next -door to it, but she thought that even he -would have to make an exception in -favour of Lady Beatrice Wentworth.</p> - -<p>She went upstairs with her guest to her -room at length, when Beatrice suddenly -turned towards her, with quite a new expression -upon her face.</p> - -<p>“Monica,” she said, looking straight -into her eyes, “you are changed—you are -different from what you were in London—different -even from what you were in -Scotland, though I saw a change then. I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>don’t know how to express it, but you are -beautified—glorified. What is it? What -has changed you since I first knew you?”</p> - -<p>Monica knew right well; but some -feelings could not be translated into -words.</p> - -<p>“I am very happy,” she said, quietly. -“If there is any change, that must be the -cause.”</p> - -<p>“Happier than you have ever been -before?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; I think every week makes me -happier. I learn to know my husband -better and better, you see.”</p> - -<p>A sudden wistful sadness flashed into -the eyes so steadily regarding her. -Monica saw it before it had been blotted -out by the arch drollery of the look that -immediately succeeded.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p> -<p>“And it does not wear off, Monica? -Sometimes it does, you know—after a -time. Will it ever, in your case, do you -think?”</p> - -<p>“I think not,” she answered.</p> - -<p>“And I think not, too,” answered -Beatrice. “Ah me! How happy some -people are!”</p> - -<p>She laughed, but there was something of -bitterness in the tone. Monica looked at -her seriously.</p> - -<p>“Are you not happy, Beatrice?”</p> - -<p>The girl’s audacious smile beamed out -over her face.</p> - -<p>“Don’t I look so?”</p> - -<p>“Sometimes—not always.”</p> - -<p>“One must have variety before all -things, you know,” was the gay answer. -“It would never do to be always in the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>same style—it lacks piquancy after a time. -Now let me have time to beautify myself in -harmony with this most charming of old -places, and come back for me when you -are dressed; I feel as if I should lose my -way, or see bogies in these delightful corridors -and staircases.”</p> - -<p>And Monica left her guest as desired, -coming back, half an hour later, to find -her transformed into the semblance of some -pictured dame of a century or two gone -by, in stiff amber brocade, quaintly cut -about the neck and sleeves, and relieved -here and there by dazzling scarlet -blossoms. Beatrice never at any time -looked like anybody else, but to-night she -was particularly, strikingly original.</p> - -<p>“Ah, you black-robed queen, you will -just do as a foil for me!” was the greeting -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>Monica received. “Whenever I see you -in any garb, no matter what it is, I always -think it is just one that suits you best of -everything. Are you having a dinner-party -to-night?”</p> - -<p>“Not exactly. A few men are coming, -who have asked Randolph to shoot since -we came back. You and I are the only -ladies.”</p> - -<p>And then they went down to the empty -drawing-room a good half-hour before any -one else was likely to appear.</p> - -<p>Beatrice chatted away very brightly. She -seemed in gay spirits, and had a great deal -to tell of what had passed since their farewell -in Scotland a month or two ago.</p> - -<p>She moved about the drawing-room, -examining the various treasures it contained, -and admiring the beauty of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>pictures. She was standing half concealed -by the curtains draping a recessed window, -when the door opened, admitting Tom -Pendrill. He was in dinner dress, having -arrived about an hour previously.</p> - -<p>“You have come then, Tom,” said -Monica. “I am glad. I was afraid you -meant to desert us after all.”</p> - -<p>“The wish being father to the thought, -I presume,” answered Tom, shaking hands. -“By-the-bye, here is a letter from Arthur’s -doctor I’ve brought to show you. He -gives a capital account of his patient. -Can you read German writing, or shall I -construe? He writes about as crabbedly -as——”</p> - -<p>And here Tom stopped short, seeing that -Monica was not alone.</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon,” he added, drawing -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>himself up with a ceremoniousness quite -unusual with him.</p> - -<p>“Not at all,” answered Monica, quietly. -“Let me introduce you to Lady Beatrice -Wentworth—Mr. Tom Pendrill.”</p> - -<p>They exchanged bows very distantly. -Monica became suddenly aware, in some -subtle, inexplicable fashion, that these two -were not strangers to one another—that -this was not their first meeting. Moreover, -it appeared as if their former acquaintance, -such as it was, could have -been by no means agreeable to either, for -it was easy to see that a sort of covert -antagonism existed between them which -neither of them took over much pains to -conceal.</p> - -<p>Tom’s face assumed its most sharply -cynical expression, as he drew at once into -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>his hardest shell of distant reserve and -sarcastic politeness.</p> - -<p>Beatrice opened her feather fan, and -wielded it with a sort of aggressive negligence. -She dropped into a seat beside -Monica, and began to talk to her with an -air of studied affectation utterly at variance -with her ordinary manner, ignoring Tom -as entirely as if no introduction had passed -between them, and that with an assumption -of hauteur that could only be explained by a -deeply-seated antipathy.</p> - -<p>Monica tried to include Tom in the conversation; -but he declined to be included, -returned an indifferent answer, and withdrew -to a distant corner of the room, -where he remained deeply engrossed, as it -seemed, in the study of a photographic -album.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> -<p>Monica was perplexed. She could not -imagine what it all meant. She had never -heard the Pendrills speak of Lady Beatrice -Wentworth, and she was sufficiently acquainted -with Tom’s history to render this -perplexity the greater. She was certain -Mrs. Pendrill had heard the name of her -expected guest, and it had aroused no -emotion in her. Yet she would presumably -know the name of a lady towards -whom her nephew cherished so great an -antipathy. Monica could not make it out. -But one thing was plain enough: those -two were sworn foes, and intended to -remain so—and they were guests beneath -the same roof!</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p> - - - -<h2 title="22. AN ENIGMA">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND.<br /> - -<small>AN ENIGMA.</small></h2> -</div> - -<p>It was a relief when the other men came -in, and when dinner was announced. -Randolph evidently knew nothing of any -disturbing element in the party as he -handed Beatrice in to dinner, and again -made a sort of attempt to introduce her to -Tom, who was seated opposite, not knowing -that Monica had already had an opportunity -of performing that little ceremony.</p> - -<p>“You are two of my oldest friends, you -know,” said their host, in his pleasant, -easy fashion, “and you are both my guests -now, so you will have a capital opportunity -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>of expatiating together upon my many -perfections.”</p> - -<p>“No need for that, Randolph,” answered -Beatrice, gaily. “They speak too loud for -themselves, and your wife’s eyes tell too -many tales of them. You know I never -could bear paragons. If you turn into one, -I shall have no more to say to you.”</p> - -<p>“You are very cutting, Beatrice; almost -as much so as Tom here. It is really rather -a trying position to be hedged in between -a clever woman and a clever man.”</p> - -<p>“If you call me a clever woman again, -Randolph, I’ll never forgive you. I -abominate the whole race!” cried Beatrice, -hotly; “and as for clever men—I <em>detest</em> -them!”</p> - -<p>This was said so heartily as to elicit a -guffaw of laughter from a ruddy-faced -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>young gentleman of sporting tastes, who -was her neighbour on the other side. She -turned to him with one of her most sparkling -glances.</p> - -<p>“Now you, I am quite certain, agree -with me. Your face tells me you do. -Don’t you think that it is the clever people -who make the world an intolerable place?”</p> - -<p>“They’re the greatest nuisance out,” -assented that young gentleman, cordially. -“I always did say so. I was never clever. -I was plucked three times, I think, for my -little-go.”</p> - -<p>“Then you and I are sure to be great -friends,” said Beatrice, laughing. “I am -quite, quite sure I should <em>never</em> have passed -any examination if I had been a man. I -was at Oxford once, long ago; and oh! -you know, the only men that were -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>any good at all were those who had -been ‘plucked,’ as they call it, or fully -expected to be. The clever, good, precocious -boys were—oh! well, let us not think -of them. It takes away one’s appetite!”</p> - -<p>The sporting gentleman laughed, and -enjoyed this summary verdict; but Randolph -just glanced across at his wife. He, -too, was aware that there was something -odd in Beatrice’s manner. He detected the -covert vein of bitterness in her tone; and -he was as much at a loss to understand it -as any one else could be. Tom’s face and -impenetrable silence puzzled him likewise.</p> - -<p>Dinner, however, passed smoothly enough. -Beatrice was very lively, and her witticisms -kept all the table alive. Her young neighbour -lost his heart to her at once, and she -flirted with him in the most frank and open -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>fashion possible. She could be very fascinating -when she chose, and to-night, after -the first edge had been taken off her -sallies, she was, undoubtedly, exceedingly -attractive.</p> - -<p>If there was something a little forced in -her mirth, at least nobody detected it, save -those who knew her very well, and not -even all of those, for Haddon was obviously -unconscious that anything was wrong, and -talked to Monica in the most unconcerned -fashion possible. What Tom thought of it -all nobody could hazard an opinion.</p> - -<p>At length Monica gave the signal to her -animated guest, and they two withdrew -together. Beatrice laughed gaily, as she -half walked half waltzed across the hall, -humming a dance tune the while.</p> - -<p>“What a lovely place this would be for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>a dance!” she exclaimed, “a masked, or, -better still, a fancy dress ball. Shouldn’t we -look charming in these panelled rooms, -flitting about this great baronial hall, and -up and down that delightful staircase? -Monica, you and Randolph mustn’t get -lazy; you must live up to your house. It -is too beautiful to be wasted. If you don’t -know how to manage matters, I must -come and teach you?”</p> - -<p>And so she rattled on, first on one theme, -and then on another, in restless, aimless -fashion, as people do who are talking -against time, or talking with a purpose, -determined not to let silence fall between -them and their companions. It was easy -to see that Beatrice wished to avoid any -confidential conversation—wished to escape -from any kind of questioning, or from quiet -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>talk, of whatever description it might be. -When at length she did let Monica go -back to the drawing-room, it was not with -any idea of silence. She went straight to -the piano, and began playing stormily.</p> - -<p>Presently, after dashing off fragments -vocal and instrumental in a sort of -confused medley, Monica, growing dreamy -as she listened to the succession of changing -harmonies, she began once again with -more of purpose and of passion in her voice—indeed, -there was so much of pain and -passion, that Monica was aroused to listen.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“My heart, my heart is like a singing bird</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Whose nest is in a watered shoot;</div> - <div class="verse">My heart, my heart is like an apple-tree,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Whose boughs are hung with thick-set fruit.</div> - <div class="verse">My heart, my heart is like a rainbow-shell</div> - <div class="verse indent2">That paddles in a halcyon sea;</div> - <div class="verse">My heart, my heart is gladder than all these,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Because my love, my love has come to me.</div> - <div class="verse">My heart——”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> -<p>And then the singer’s voice failed utterly; -a dismal discordant chord broke the eager -harmonies that had followed one another -so rapidly. Beatrice broke into a sudden -storm of tears, and hurried from the room -without a word.</p> - -<p>Monica sat aghast and bewildered. -What could it all mean? Was she by -chance to come upon the secret sorrow of -Beatrice’s life?—the sorrow she had half -suspected sometimes, but had never heard -in any way explained. Was it to be -explained to her now? Was Tom Pendrill -connected with that sorrow? If so, what -part had he taken? Could they ever have -been lovers? Did she not remember, long -ago, hearing something of a suspicion on -Mrs. Pendrill’s part that Tom had been -“jilted” by the woman he loved? Was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>there not a time, long ago, when he was -not the reserved, cynical man he affected -now to be; but was genial, brilliant, the -pleasantest of companions? Yes, Monica -was sure of it—was certain that he had -changed, and changed somewhat suddenly, -many years since; but she had paid but -little heed to the matter then, as it was -about that time when every faculty was -absorbed in watching over Arthur, who -long lay hovering between life and death. -Changes after that passed almost unheeded. -Had not her whole life been changed -too?</p> - -<p>She did not follow Beatrice, however, to -try and comfort her, or attempt to force -her confidence. She treated her as she -would wish herself to be treated in similar -case; and shortly after the gentlemen had -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>joined them, had the satisfaction of seeing -Beatrice come back as brilliant and full of -vivacity as ever, and there was no need -after her appearance, to wonder how the -evening should be passed, it seemed quite -sufficient entertainment for the company to -sit in a circle round her, and hear Beatrice -talk. Tom Pendrill was the one exception. -He did not attempt to join the magic ring. -He took Monica a little apart, and talked -over with her the latest news from -Germany.</p> - -<p>When the guests had departed, and -Beatrice, as well as her brother and -Monica, had gone upstairs, Tom turned -his face towards Randolph with its hardest -and most cynical look.</p> - -<p>“Tell you what, Trevlyn, don’t you ask -that poor young fellow Radlet here again, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>so long as that arrant flirt is a guest under -your roof.”</p> - -<p>Randolph simply smiled.</p> - -<p>“The ‘arrant flirt,’ as you are polite -enough to call my guest, is one of my -oldest friends. Kindly keep that fact in -mind in talking of her to me.”</p> - -<p>“I am not talking of her. I am talking -of poor young Radlet.”</p> - -<p>“It seems to me that poor young Radlet, -as you call him, is very well able to take -care of himself.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you think that, do you? Shows -how much <em>you</em> know! Can’t you see she -was doing her very best to enslave his -fancy, and that he was falling under the -spell as fast as ever he could?”</p> - -<p>“Pooh! Nonsense!” answered Randolph; -“they were just exchanging a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>little of the current coin that is constantly -passing in gay society. Young Radlet is -not a green-horn. They understand their -game perfectly.”</p> - -<p>“She does, of course—no one better; -but it’s a question if he does.”</p> - -<p>“Well, he’s a greater fool than he looks, -if he does not!” answered Randolph. -“Does he expect a girl like Beatrice -Wentworth to be enslaved by his charms in -the course of a few hours? The thing’s a -manifest absurdity!”</p> - -<p>“Possibly; but that woman can make a -man think anything.”</p> - -<p>Randolph looked at his friend with some -attention.</p> - -<p>“You seem to have formed very -exhaustive conclusions about Lady Beatrice -Wentworth.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p> -<p>It almost seemed as if Tom coloured a -little as he turned impatiently away.</p> - -<p>Next day Beatrice seemed to have regained -her usual even flow of spirits. She -met Tom at breakfast as she would meet -any guest under the same roof, and neither -courted nor avoided him in any way. He -seemed to take his cue from her; but his -face still wore the thin-lipped cynical -expression that betrayed a certain amount -of subdued irritation. However, sport was -the all-prevailing topic of the hour, and as -soon as breakfast was concluded, the men -departed, with the dogs and keepers in -their wake.</p> - -<p>“What would you like to do, Beatrice?” -asked Monica when the sportsmen had -disappeared. “We have the whole day -before us.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p> -<p>“Like to do? Why, everything must -be delightful in this lovely out-of-the-world -place. Monica, no wonder you are -just yourself—not one bit like any -one else—brought up here with only -the sea, and the clouds, and the sunshine -for companions and playmates. I -used to look at you in a sort of wonder, -but I understand it all now. You ought -always to live at Trevlyn—never anywhere -else. What should I like to do? Why, -anything. Suppose we ride. I should -love to gallop along the cliffs with you. I -want to see the queer little church Haddon -described to me, where you were married, -and the picturesque little town where—where -Randolph and he put up on the -eve of that day. I want to see everything -that belongs to your past life, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>Monica. It interests me more than I can -express.”</p> - -<p>Monica smiled in her tranquil fashion.</p> - -<p>“Very well; you shall gratify your wish. -I will order the horses at once. If we go -to <abbr title="Saint">St.</abbr> Maws, I ought to go and see Aunt -Elizabeth—Mrs. Pendrill that is, aunt to -Arthur, and to Tom Pendrill and his -brother. She is sure to want us to stay to -luncheon with her if we do. She will be -all alone; Tom here, and Raymond on his -rounds. Would you dislike that, Beatrice? -She is a sweet old lady, and seems more a -part of my past life than anything else I -can show you, though I could not perhaps -explain why.”</p> - -<p>A curious light shone in Beatrice’s eyes.</p> - -<p>“Dislike it! I should like it above -everything. I love old ladies. They are -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>so much more interesting than young ones, -I often wish I were old myself—not middle-aged, -you know, but really old, <em>very</em> old, -with lovely white hair, and a waxen face all -over tiny wrinkles, like my own grandmother—the -most beautiful woman without -exception that I ever saw. Yes, Monica, -let us do that. It will be delightful. Why -did you never mention the Pendrills to me -before?”</p> - -<p>She put the question with studied carelessness. -Yet Monica was certain it was -asked with effort.</p> - -<p>“Did I not? I thought I used to tell -you so much about my past life.”</p> - -<p>“So you did; but I never heard that -name.”</p> - -<p>“You knew Arthur was a Pendrill.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed I did not. He was always -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>Arthur to you. I wonder I never asked -his surname; but somehow I never did. -I had a vague idea that some such people -as these Pendrills existed; but I never -heard you name them.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you heard, and forgot it?” -suggested Monica tentatively.</p> - -<p>“That I am sure I never did,” was the -very emphatic answer.</p> - -<p>Beatrice was delighted with her -morning’s ride. It was a beautiful autumn -day, and everything was looking its best. -The sea flashed and sparkled in the sunlight; -the sky was clear and soft above -them, the horses, delighted to feel the soft -turf beneath their feet, pranced and -curvetted and galloped, with that easy -elastic motion that is so peculiarly -exhilarating.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> -<p>The girl herself looked peculiarly and -vividly beautiful, and Monica was not -surprised at the affectionate interest Mrs. -Pendrill evinced in her from the first -moment of introduction.</p> - -<p>But she was a little surprised at the -peculiar sweetness of Beatrice’s demeanour -towards the old lady. Whilst retaining all -her arch brightness and vivacity, the girl -managed to infuse into her manner, her -voice, and her words something gentle -and deferential and winning that was -inexplicably fascinating; all the more so -from its evident unconscious sincerity.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pendrill was charmed with the -beauty and sweetness of the girl, and it -seemed as if Beatrice on her side was equally -fascinated. When the time came to say -good-bye, and the old lady held both her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>hands, and gazed into her bright face, as -she asked for another visit very soon, she -stooped suddenly, and kissed her with -pretty, spontaneous warmth.</p> - -<p>“Come again! Of course I will, as often -as Monica will bring me. Good-bye, Mrs. -Pendrill—Aunt Elizabeth I should <em>like</em> to -say”—with a little rippling laugh. “I think -you are just fit to be Monica’s ‘Saint -Elizabeth.’ Is it the air of this place that -makes you all so perfectly delightful? I -shall have to come and live here too, I -think.”</p> - -<p>And as she and Monica rode home -together over the sweeping downs, Beatrice -turned to her after a long pause of silence -and said:</p> - -<p>“Monica, it was a dangerous experiment -asking me to Trevlyn.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> -<p>“Why?”</p> - -<p>“Because I don’t feel as if I should ever -want to leave it again. And I’m a dreadful -sort of creature when I’m bent on my own -way.”</p> - -<p>Monica smiled.</p> - -<p>“You will have to turn me out neck and -crop in the end, I firmly believe. I feel I -should just take root here, and never wish -to go.”</p> - -<p>Monica shook her head with a look of -subdued amusement.</p> - -<p>“I am very glad it pleases you so much; -but do you know, Beatrice, I think you -will have a different tale to tell in a week -or two? You cannot realise, till you have -tried it, how solitary and isolated we are, -especially as the winter draws on. Very -soon you will think it is a dreadfully lonely -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>place—a sort of enchanted castle, as -Randolph used to call it; and you will be -pining to get back to the gay, busy whirl -of life, that you have left behind.”</p> - -<p>Monica stopped short there struck by -the strange look turned upon her by her -companion. Beatrice’s face had grown -grave and almost pale. A curious wistful -sadness shone in her eyes; it almost seemed -as if tears glistened on the long lashes.</p> - -<p>Her words were almost as enigmatical -as her looks.</p> - -<p>She gazed at Monica for a moment -speechlessly, and then softly murmured:</p> - -<p>“Et tu Brute!”</p> - - -<p>END OF VOLUME II.</p> - - -<p class="center">PRINTED BY -KELLY AND CO., GATE STREET, LINCOLN’S INN FIELDS, -AND KINGSTON-ON-THAMES. -</p> - -<div class="transnote"> -<h2>Transcriber's Notes</h2> -<p>Minor punctuation and printer errors repaired.</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Monica, Volume 2 (of 3), by Evelyn Everett-Green - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MONICA, VOLUME 2 (OF 3) *** - -***** This file should be named 54941-h.htm or 54941-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/9/4/54941/ - -Produced by MWS and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by The Internet -Archive/American Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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