Elster's Folly by Mrs. Henry Wood (buy e reader .TXT) 📕

Carried Her Point,  And His Will Yielded To Hers. Would It Be A Type Of

The Future?--Would He Yield To Her In Other Things In Defiance Of His

Better Judgment? Alas! Alas!

She Picked Up Her Skirts And Left Him,  And Went Sailing Upstairs To Her

Daughter's Room. Maude Was Sitting Shivering In A Shawl,  Though The Day

Was Hot.

"I've Paved The Way," Nodded The Old Woman,  In Meaning Tones. "And

There's One Fortunate Thing About Val: He Is So Truthful Himself,  One May

Take Him In With His Eyes Open."

Maude Turned _Her_ Eyes Upon Her Mother: Very Languid And Unspeculative

Eyes Just Then.

"I Gave Him A Hint,  Maude,  That You Had Been Unable To Bring Yourself To

Like Hartledon,  But Had Fixed Your Mind On A Younger Son. Later,  We'll

Let Him Suspect Who The Younger Son Was."

The Words Aroused Maude; She Started Up And Stood Staring At Her Mother,

Her Eyes Dilating With A Sort Of Horror; Her Pale Cheeks Slowly Turning

Crimson.

"I Don't Understand," She Gasped; "I _Hope_ I Don't Understand. You--You

Do Not Mean That I Am To Try To Like Val Elster?"

"Now,  Maude,  No Heroics. I'll Not See _You_ Make A Fool Of Yourself As

Your Sisters Have Done. He's Not Val Elster Any Longer; He Is Lord

Hartledon: Better-Looking Than Ever His Brother Was,  And Will Make A

Better Husband,  For He'll Be More Easily Led."

"I Would Not Marry Val For The Whole World," She Said,  With Strong

Emotion. "I Dislike Him; I Hate Him; I Never Could Be A Wife To Val

Elster."

"We'll See," Said The Dowager,  Pushing Up Her Front,  Of Which She Had

Just Caught Sight In A Glass.

"Thank Heaven,  There's No Fear Of It!" Resumed Maude,  Collecting Her

Senses,  And Sitting Down Again With A Relieved Sigh; "He Is To Marry Anne

Ashton. Thank Heaven That He Loves Her!"

"Anne Ashton!" Scornfully Returned The Countess-Dowager. "She Might Have

Been Tolerated When He Was Val Elster,  Not Now He Is Lord Hartledon. What

Notions You Have,  Maude!"

Maude Burst Into Tears. "Mamma,  I Think It Is Fearfully Indecent For You

To Begin Upon These Things Already! It Only Happened Last Night,  And--And

It Sounds Quite Horrible."

"When One Has To Live As I Do,  One Has To Do Many Things Decent And

Indecent," Retorted The Countess-Dowager Sharply. "He Has Had His Hint,

And You've Got Yours: And You Are No True Girl If You Suffer Yourself Now

To Be Triumphed Over By Anne Ashton."

Maude Cried On Silently,  Thinking How Cruel Fate Was To Have Taken One

Brother And Spared The Other. Who--Save Anne Ashton--Would Have Missed

Val Elster; While Lord Hartledon--At Least He Had Made The Life Of One

Heart. A Poor Bruised Heart Now; Never,  Never To Be Made Quite Whole

Again.

Thus The Dowager,  In Her Blindness,  Began Her Plans. In Her Blindness! If

We Could Only Foresee The Ending Of Some Of The Unholy Schemes That Many

Of Us Are Apt To Weave,  We Might Be More Willing To Leave Them Humbly In

A Higher Hand Than Ours. Do They Ever Bring Forth Good,  These Plans,  Born

Of Our Evil Passions--Hatred,  Malice,  Utter Selfishness? I Think Not.

They May Seem To Succeed Triumphantly,  But--Watch The Triumph To The End.

The Dews Of An October Evening Were Falling Upon Calne,  As Lord Hartledon

Walked From The Railway-Station. Just As Unexpectedly As He Had Arrived

The Morning You First Saw Him,  When He Was Only Val Elster,  Had He

Arrived Now. By The Merest Accident One Of The Hartledon Servants

Happened To Be At The Station When The Train Arrived,  And Took Charge Of

His Master's Luggage.

"All Well At Home,  James?"

"All Quite Well,  My Lord."

Several Weeks Had Elapsed Since His Brother's Death,  And Lord Hartledon

Had Spent Them In London. He Went Up On Business The Week After The

Funeral,  And Did Not Return Again. In One Respect He Had No Inducement To

Return; For The Ashtons,  Including Anne,  Were On A Visit In Wales. They

Were At Home Now,  As He Knew Well; And Perhaps That Had Brought Him Down.

He Went In Unannounced,  Finding His Way To The Inner Drawing-Room. A

Large Fire Blazed In The Grate,  And Lady Maude Sat By It So Intent In

Thought As Not To Observe His Entrance. She Wore A Black Crepe Dress,

With A Little White Trimming On Its Low Body And Sleeves. The Firelight

Played On Her Beautiful Features; And Her Eyelashes Glistened As If With

Tears: She Was Thinner And Paler; He Saw It At Once. The Countess-Dowager

Kept To Hartledon And Showed No Intention Of Moving From It: She And Her

Daughter Had Been There Alone All These Weeks.

"How Are You,  Maude?"

She Looked Round And Started Up,  Backing From Him With A Face Of Alarm.

Ah,  Was It _Instinct_ Caused Her So To Receive Him? What,  Or Who,  Was She

Thinking Of; Holding Her Hands Before Her With That Face Of Horror?

"Maude,  Have I So Startled You?"

"Percival! I Beg Your Pardon. I Believe I Was Thinking Of--Of Your

Brother,  And I Really Did Not Know You In The Uncertain Light. We Don't

Have The Rooms Lighted Early," She Added,  With A Little Laugh.

He Took Her Hands In His. Now That She Knew Him,  And The Alarm Was Over,

She Seemed Really Pleased To See Him: The Dark Eyes Were Raised To His

With A Frank Smile.

"May I Take A Cousin's Greeting,  Maude?"

Without Waiting For Yes Or No,  He Stooped And Took The Kiss. Maude Flung

His Hands Away. He Should Have Left Out The "Cousin," Or Not Have Taken

The Kiss.

He Went And Stood With His Elbow On The Mantelpiece,  Soberly,  As If He

Had Only Kissed A Sister. Maude Sat Down Again.

"Why Did You Not Send Us Word You Were Coming?" She Asked.

"There Was No Necessity For It. And I Only Made My Mind Up This Morning."

"What A Long Time You Have Been Away! I Thought You Went For A Week."

"I Did Not Get My Business Over Very Quickly; And Waited Afterwards To

See Thomas Carr,  Who Was Out Of Town. The Ashtons Were Away,  You Know; So

I Had No Inducement To Hurry Back Again."

"Very Complimentary To _Her_. Who's Thomas Carr?" Asked Maude.

"A Barrister; The Greatest Friend I Possess In This World. We Were At

College Together,  And He Used To Keep Me Straight."

"Keep You Straight! Val!"

"It's Quite True. I Went To Him In All My Scrapes And Troubles. He Is The

Most Honourable,  Upright,  Straightforward Man I Know; And,  As Such,

Possesses A Talent For Serving--"

"Hartledon! Is It _You_?"

The Interruption Came From The Dowager. She And The Butler Came In

Together,  Both Looking Equally Astonished At The Appearance Of Lord

Hartledon. The Former Said Dinner Was Served.

"Will You Let Me Sit Down In This Coat?" Asked Val.

The Countess-Dowager Would Willingly Have Allowed Him To Sit Down Without

Any. Her Welcome Was Demonstrative; Her Display Of Affection Quite Warm,

And She Called Him "Val," Tenderly. He Escaped For A Minute To His Room,

Washed His Hands,  Brushed His Hair,  And Was Down Again,  And Taking The

Head Of His Own Table.

It Was Pleasant To Have Him There--A Welcome Change From Hartledon's

Recent Monotony; And Even Maude,  With Her Boasted Dislike,  Felt Prejudice

Melting Away. Boasted Dislike,  Not Real,  It Had Been. None Could Dislike

Percival. He Was Not Edward,  And It Was Him Maude Had Loved. Percival She

Never Would Love,  But She Might Learn To Like Him. As He Sat Near Her,  In

His Plain Black Morning Attire,  Courteous,  Genuinely Sweet-Tempered,  His

Good Looks Conspicuous,  A Smile On His Delicate,  Refined,  But Vacillating

Lips,  And His Honest Dark-Blue Eyes Bent Upon Her In Kindness,  Maude For

The First Time Admitted A Vision Of The Possible Future,  Together With A

Dim Consciousness That It Might Not Be Intolerable. Half The World,  Of

Her Age And Sex,  Would Have Deemed It Indeed A Triumph To Be Made The

Wife Of That Attractive Man.

He Had Cautiously Stood Aside For Lady Kirton To Take The Head Of The

Table; But The Dowager Had Positively Refused,  And Subsided Into The

Chair At The Foot. She Did Not Fill It In Dear Edward's Time,  She Said;

Neither Should She In Dear Val's; He Had Come Home To Occupy His Own

Place. And Oh,  Thank Goodness He Was Come! She And Maude Had Been So

Lonely And Miserable,  Growing Thinner Daily From Sheer _Ennui_. So She

Faced Lord Hartledon At The End Of The Table,  Her Flaxen Curls Surmounted

By An Array Of Black Plumes,  And Looking Very Like A Substantial Female

Mute.

"What An Awful Thing That Is About The Rectory!" Exclaimed She,  When They

Were More Than Half Through Dinner.

Lord Hartledon Looked Up Quietly. "What Is The Matter At The Rectory?"

"Fever Has Broken Out."

"Is That All!" He Exclaimed,  Some Amusement On His Face. "I Thought It

Must Have Taken Fire."

"A Fever's Worse Than A Fire."

"Do You Think So?"

"_Think So!_" Echoed The Dowager. "You Can Run Away From A Fire; But A

Fever May Take You Before You Are Aware Of It. Every Soul In The Rectory

May Die; It May Spread To The Parish; It May Spread Here. I Have Kept Tar

Burning Outside The House The Last Two Days."

"You Are Not Serious,  Lady Kirton!"

"I Am Serious. I Wouldn't Catch A Fever For The Whole World. I Should Die

Of Fright Before It Had Time To Kill Me. Besides--I Have Maude To Guard.

You Were Forgetting Her."

"There's No Danger At All. One Of The Servants Became Ill After They

Returned Home,  And It Proved To Be Fever. I Don't Suppose It Will

Spread."

"How Did _You_ Hear About It?"

"From Miss Ashton. She Mentioned It In Her Last Letter To Me."

"I Didn't Know You Corresponded With Her," Cried The Dowager,  Her Tones

Rather Shrill.

"Not Correspond With Miss Ashton!" He Repeated. "Of Course I Do."

The Old Dowager Had A Fit Of Choking: Something Had Gone The Wrong Way,

She Said. Lord Hartledon Resumed.

"It Is An Awful Shame Of Those Seaside Lodging-House People! Did You Hear

The Particulars,  Maude? After The Ashtons Concluded Their Visit In Wales,

They Went For A Fortnight To The Seaside,  On Their Way Home,  Taking

Lodgings. Some Days After They Had Been Settled In The Rooms They

Discovered That Some Fever Was In The House; A Family Who Occupied

Another Set Of Apartments Being Ill With It,  And Had Been Ill Before The

Ashtons Went In. Dr. Ashton Told The Landlady What He Thought Of Her

Conduct,  And Then They Left The House For Home. But Mrs. Ashton's Maid,

Matilda,  Had Already Taken It."

"Did Miss Ashton Give You These Particulars?" Asked Maude,  Toying With A

Late Rose That Lay Beside Her Plate.

"Yes. I Should Feel Inclined To Prosecute The Woman,  Were I Dr. Ashton,

For Having Been So Wickedly Inconsiderate. But I Hope Matilda Is Better,

And That The Alarm Will End With Her. It Is Four Days Since I Had Anne's

Letter."

"Then,  Lord Hartledon,  I Can Tell You The Alarm's Worse,  And Another Has

Taken It,  And The Parish Is Up In Arms," Said The Countess-Dowager,

Tartly. "It Has Proved To Be Fever Of A Most Malignant Type,  And Not A

Soul But Hillary The Surgeon Goes Near The Rectory,  You Must Not Venture

Within Half-A-Mile Of It. Dr. Ashton Was So Careless As To Occupy His

Pulpit On Sunday; But,  Thank Goodness,  I Did Not Venture To Church,

Or Allow Maude To Go. Your Miss Ashton Will Be Having It Next."

"Of Course They Have Advice From Garchester?" He Exclaimed.

"How Should I Know? My Opinion Is That The Parson Himself Might Be

Prosecuted For Bringing The Fever Into A Healthy Neighbourhood. Port,

Hedges! One Has Need Of A Double Portion Of Tonics In A Time Like This."

The Countess-Dowager's Alarms Were Not Feigned--No,  Nor Exaggerated. She

Had An Intense,  Selfish Fear Of Any Sort Of Illness; She Had A Worse Fear

Of Death. In Any Time Of Public Epidemic Her Terrors Would Have Been

Almost Ludicrous In Their Absurdity But That They