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

Slight Man,  With Light Eyes And Fair Hair." This Did Not Answer Exactly

To The Gorton Who Had Played His Part At Calne; But Then,  In Regard To

The Latter,  There Remained The Suspicion That The Red Hair Was False.

Whether It Was The Same Man Or Whether It Was Two Men--If The Phrase May

Be Allowed--Neither Of Them,  To Use Detective Green's Expressive Words,

Turned Up. And Thus The Months Had Passed On,  With Nothing Special To

Mark Them. Captain Kirton Had Been Conveyed Abroad For The Winter,  And

They Had Good News Of Him; And The Countess-Dowager Was Inflicting A

Visit Upon One Of Her Married Daughters In Germany,  The Baroness With The

Unpronounceable Name.

And The Matter Had Nearly Faded From The Mind Of Lady Hartledon. It Would

Quite Have Faded,  But For Certain Interviews With Thomas Carr At His

Chambers,  When Hartledon's Look Of Care Precluded The Idea That They

Could Be Visits Of Mere Idleness Or Pleasure; And For The Secret Trouble

That Unmistakably Sat On Her Husband Like An Incubus. At Times He Would

Moan In His Sleep As One In Pain; But If Told Of This,  Had Always Some

Laughing Answer Ready For Her--He Had Dreamed He Was Fighting A Lion Or

Being Tossed By A Bull.

This Was The Pleasantest Phase Of Lady Hartledon's Married Life. Her

Health Did Not Allow Of Her Entering Into Gaiety; And She And Her Husband

Passed Their Time Happily Together. All Her Worst Qualities Seemed To

Have Left Her,  Or To Be Dormant; She Was Yielding And Gentle; Her Beauty

Had Never Been So Great As Now That It Was Subdued; Her Languor Was An

Attraction,  Her Care To Please Being Genuine; And They Were Sufficiently

Happy. They Were In Their Town-House Now,  Not Having Gone Back To

Hartledon. A Large,  Handsome House,  Very Different From The Hired One

They Had First Occupied.

In January The Baby Was Born; And Maude's Eyes Glistened With Tears

Of Delight Because It Was A Boy: A Little Heir To The Broad Lands Of

Hartledon. She Was Very Well,  And It Seemed That She Could Never Tire

Of Fondling Her Child.

But In The First Few Days Succeeding That Of The Birth A Strange Fancy

Took Possession Of Her: She Observed,  Or Thought She Observed,  That Her

Husband Did Not Seem To Care For The Child. He Did Not Caress It; She

Once Heard Him Sighing Over It; And He Never Announced It In The

Newspapers. Other Infants,  Heirs Especially,  Could Be Made Known To The

World,  But Not Hers. The Omission Might Never Have Come To Her Knowledge,

Since At First She Was Not Allowed To See Newspapers,  But For A Letter

From The Countess-Dowager. The Lady Wrote In A High State Of Wrath From

Germany; She Had Looked Every Day For Ten Days In The _Times_,  And Saw No

Chronicle Of The Happy Event; And She Demanded The Reason. It Afforded A

Valve For Her Temper,  Which Had Been In An Explosive State For Some Time

Against Lord Hartledon,  That Ungracious Son-In-Law Having Actually

Forbidden Her His House Until Maude's Illness Should Be Over; Telling Her

Plainly That He Would Not Have His Wife Worried. Lady Hartledon Said

Nothing For A Day Or Two; She Was Watching Her Husband; Watching For

Signs Of The Fancy Which Had Taken Possession Of Her.

He Was In Her Room One Dark Afternoon,  Standing With His Elbow On The

Mantelpiece Whilst He Talked To Her: A Room Of Luxury And Comfort It Must

Have Been Almost A Pleasure To Be Ill In. Lady Hartledon Had Been Allowed

To Get Up,  And Sit In An Easy-Chair: She Seemed To Be Growing Strong

Rapidly; And The Little Red Gentleman In The Cradle,  Sleeping Quietly,

Was Fifteen Days Old.

"About His Name,  Percival; What Is It To Be?" She Asked. "Your Own?"

"No,  No,  Not Mine," Said He,  Quickly; "I Never Liked Mine. Choose Some

Other,  Maude."

"What Do You Wish It To Be?"

"Anything."

The Short Answer Did Not Please The Young Mother; Neither Did The Dreamy

Tone In Which It Was Spoken. "Don't You Care What It Is?" She Asked

Rather Plaintively.

"Not Much,  For Myself. I Wish It To Be Anything You Shall Choose."

"I Thought Perhaps You Would Have Liked It Named After Your Brother," She

Said,  Very Much Offended On The Baby's Account.

"George?"

"George,  No. I Never Knew George; I Should Not Be Likely To Think Of Him.

Edward."

Lord Hartledon Looked At The Fire,  Absently Pushing Back His Hair. "Yes,

Let It Be Edward. It Will Do As Well As Anything Else."

"Good Gracious,  Percival,  One Would Think You Had Been Having Babies All

Your Life!" She Exclaimed Resentfully. "'Do As Well As Anything Else!' If

He Were Our Tenth Son,  Instead Of Our First,  You Could Not Treat It With

More Indifference. I Have Done Nothing But Deliberate On The Name Since

He Was Born; And I Don't Believe You Have Once Given It A Thought."

Lord Hartledon Turned His Face Upon Her; And When Illumined With A Smile,

As Now,  It Could Be As Bright As Before Care Came To It. "I Don't Think

We Men Attach The Importance To Names In A General Way That You Do,

Maude. I Shall Like To Have It Edward."

"Edward William Algernon--"

"No,  No,  No," As If The Number Alarmed Him. "Pray Don't Have A String Of

Names: One's Quite Enough."

"Oh,  Very Well," She Returned,  Biting Her Lips. "William Was Your

Father's Name. Algernon Is My Eldest Brother's: I Supposed You Might Like

Them. I Thought," She Added,  After A Pause,  "We Might Ask Lord Kirton To

Be Its Godfather."

"I Have Decided On The Godfathers Already. Thomas Carr Will Be One,  And

I Intend To Be The Other."

"Thomas Carr! A Poor Hard-Working Barrister,  That Not A Soul Knows,  And

Of No Family Or Influence Whatever,  Godfather To The Future Lord

Hartledon!" Uttered The Offended Mother.

"I Wish It,  Maude. Carr Is The Most Valued Friend I Have In The World,  Or

Ever Can Have. Oblige Me In This."

"Then My Brother Can Be The Other."

"No; I Myself; And I Wish You Would Be Its Godmother."

"Well,  It's Quite Reversing The Order Of Things!" She Said,  Tacitly

Conceding The Point.

A Silence Ensued. The Firelight Played On The Lace Curtains Of The Baby's

Bed,  As It Did On Lady Hartledon's Face; A Thoughtful Face Just Now.

Twilight Was Drawing On,  And The Fire Lighted The Room.

"Percival,  Do You Care For The Child?"

The Tone Had A Sound Of Passion In It,  Breaking Upon The Silence. Lord

Hartledon Lifted His Bent Face And Glanced At His Wife.

"Do I Care For The Child,  Maude? What A Question! I Do Care For Him: More

Than I Allow To Appear."

And If Her Voice Had Passion In It,  His Had Pain. He Crossed The Room,

And Stood Looking Down On The Sleeping Baby,  Touching At Length Its Cheek

With His Finger. He Could Have Knelt,  There And Then,  And Wept Over The

Child,  And Prayed,  Oh,  How Earnestly,  That God Would Take It To Himself,

Not Suffer It To Live. Many And Many A Prayer Had Ascended From His Heart

In Their Earlier Married Days,  That His Wife Might Not Bear Him Children;

For He Could Only Entail Upon Them An Inheritance Of Shame.

"I Don't Think You Have Once Taken Him In Your Arms,  Percival; You Never

Kiss Him. It's Quite Unnatural."

"I Give My Kisses In The Dark," He Laughed,  As He Returned To Where She

Was Sitting. And This Was In A Sense True; For Once When He Happened To

Be Alone For An Instant With The Baby,  He Had Clasped It And Kissed It In

A Sort Of Delirious Agony.

"You Never Had It In The _Times_,  You Know!"

"Never What?"

"Never Announced Its Birth In The _Times_. Did You Forget It?"

"It Must Have Been Very Stupid Of Me," He Remarked. "Never Mind,  Maude;

He Won't Grow The Less For The Omission. When Are You Coming Downstairs?"

"Mamma Is In A Rage About It; She Says Such Neglect Ought To Be Punished;

And She Knows You Have Done It On Purpose."

"She Is Always In A Rage With Me,  No Matter What I Do," Returned Val,

Good-Humouredly. "She Hoped To Be Here At This Time,  And Sway Us All--You

And Me And The Baby; And I Stopped It. Ho,  Ho! Young Sir!"

The Baby Had Wakened With A Cry,  And A Watchful Attendant Came Gliding

In At The Sound. Lord Hartledon Left The Room And Went Straight Down To

The Temple To Mr. Carr's Chambers. He Found Him In All The Bustle Of

Departure From Town. A Cab Stood At The Foot Of The Stairs,  And Mr.

Carr's Laundress,  A Queer Old Body With An Inverted Black Bonnet,  Was

Handing The Cabman A Parcel Of Books.

"A Minute More And You'd Have Been Too Late," Observed Mr. Carr,  As Lord

Hartledon Met Him On The Stairs,  A Coat On His Arm.

"I Thought You Did Not Start Till To-Morrow."

"But I Found I Must Go To-Day. I Can Give You Three Minutes. Is It

Anything Particular?"

Lord Hartledon Drew Him Into His Room. "I Have Come To Crave A Favour,

Carr. It Has Been On My Lips To Ask You Before,  But They Would Not Frame

The Words. This Child Of Mine: Will You Be Its Godfather With Myself?"

One Moment's Hesitation,  Quite Perceptible To The Sensitive Mind Of Lord

Hartledon,  And Then Mr. Carr Spoke Out Bravely And Cheerily.

"Of Course I Will."

"I See You Hesitate: But I Do Not Like To Ask Any One Else."

"If I Hesitated,  It Was At The Thought Of The Grave Responsibility

Attaching To The Office. I Believe I Look Upon It In A More Serious Light

Than Most People Do,  And Have Never Accepted The Charge Yet. I Will Be

Sponsor To This One With All My Heart."

Lord Hartledon Clasped His Hand In Reply,  And They Began To Descend

The Stairs. "Poor Maude Was Dreaming Of Making A Grand Thing Of The

Christening," He Said; "She Wanted To Ask Lord Kirton To Come To It.

It Will Take Place In About A Fortnight."

"Very Well; I Must Run Up For It,  Unless You Let Me Stand By Proxy.

I Wish,  Hartledon,  You Would Hear Me On Another Point," Added The

Barrister,  Halting On The Stairs,  And Dropping His Voice To A Whisper.

"Well?"

"If You Are To Go Away At All,  Now's The Time. Can't You Be Seized With

An Exploring Fit,  And Sail To Africa,  Or Some Other Place,  Where Your

Travels Would Occupy Years?"

Lord Hartledon Shook His Head. "How Can I Leave Maude To Battle Alone

With The Exposure,  Should It Come?"

"It Is A Great Deal Less Likely To Come If You Are A Few Thousand Miles

Away."

"I Question It. Should Gorton Turn Up He Is Just The One To Frighten A

Defenceless Woman,  And Purchase His Own Silence. No; My Place Is Beside

Maude."

"As You Please. I Have Spoken For The Last Time. By The Way,  Any Letters

Bearing A Certain Postmark,  That Come Addressed To Me During My Absence,

Taylor Has Orders To Send To You. Fare You Well,  Hartledon; I Wish I

Could Help You To Peace."

Hartledon Watched The Cab Rattle Away,  And Then Turned Homewards. Peace!

There Was No Peace For Him.

Lady Hartledon Was Not To Be Thwarted On All Points,  And She Insisted

On A Ceremonious Christening. The Countess-Dowager Would Come Over For

It,  And Did So; Lord Hartledon Could Not Be Discourteous Enough To Deny

This; Lord And Lady Kirton Came From Ireland; And For The First Time

Since Their Marriage They Found Themselves Entertaining Guests. Lord

Hartledon Had Made A Faint Opposition,  But Maude Had Her Own Way. The

Countess-Dowager Was Furiously Indignant When She Heard Of The Intended

Sponsors--Its Father And Mother,  And That Cynical Wretch,  Thomas Carr!

Val Played The Hospitable Host; But There Was A Shadow On His Face That

His Wife Did Not Fail To See.

It Was The Evening Before The Christening,  And A Very Snowy Evening

Too. Val Was Dressing For Dinner,  And Maude,  Herself Ready,  Sat By Him,

Her Baby On Her Knee. The Child Was Attired For The First Time In A

Splendidly-Worked Robe With Looped-Up Sleeves; And She Had Brought It

In To Challenge Admiration For Its Pretty Arms,  With All The Pardonable

Pride Of A Young Mother.

"Won't You Kiss It For Once,  Val?"

He Took The Child In His Arms; It Had Its Mother's Fine Dark Eyes,  And

Looked Straight Up From Them Into His. Lord Hartledon Suddenly Bent His

Own Face Down Upon That Little One With What Seemed Like A Gesture Of

Agony; And When He Raised It His Own Eyes Were Wet With Tears. Maude Felt

Startled With A Sort Of Terror: Love Was Love; But She Did Not Understand

Love So Painful As This.

She Sat Down With The Baby On Her Knee,  Saying Nothing; He Did