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

Been Putting This And That Together In Her Own Mind,  And Drawing

Conclusions According To Her Own Light. First,  There Was The Advent Of

The Visitor; Secondly,  There Was The Letter She Had Dipped Into. She

Connected The Two With Each Other And Wondered What The Secret Care Could

Be That Had Such Telling Effect Upon Her Husband.

Gorton. The Name Had Struck Upon Her Memory,  Even Whilst She Read It,  As

One Associated With That Terrible Time--The Late Lord Hartledon's Death.

Gradually The Floodgates Of Recollection Opened,  And She Knew Him For The

Witness At The Inquest About Whom Some Speculation Had Arisen As To Who

He Was,  And What His Business At Calne Might Have Been With Lord

Hartledon And His Brother,  Val Elster.

Why Should Her Husband Be Afraid Of This Man?--As It Seemed He _Was_

Afraid,  By Mr. Carr's Letter. What Power Had He Of Injuring Lord

Hartledon?--What Secret Did He Possess Of His,  That Might Be Used Against

Him? Turning It About In Her Mind,  And Turning It Again,  Searching Her

Imagination For A Solution,  Lady Hartledon At Length Arrived At One,  In

Default Of Others. She Thought This Man Must Know Some Untoward Fact

By Which The Present Lord Hartledon's Succession Was Imperilled. Possibly

The Late Lord Hartledon Had Made Some Covert And Degrading Marriage;

Leaving An Obscure Child Who Possessed Legal Rights,  And Might Yet Claim

Them. A Romantic,  Far-Fetched Idea,  You Will Say; But She Could Think Of

No Other That Was In The Least Feasible. And She Remembered Some Faint

Idea Having Arisen In Her Mind At The Time,  That The Visit Of The Man

Gorton Was In Some Way Connected With Trouble,  Though She Did Not Know

With Which Brother.

Val Came In And Shut The Door. He Stirred The Fire Into A Blaze,  Making

Some Remark About The Snow,  And Wondering How Carr Would Get Down To The

Country Again. Maude Gave A Slight Answer,  And Then There Was Silence.

Each Was Considering How Best To Say Something To The Other. She Was The

Quicker.

"Lord Hartledon,  What Did That Man Want On Friday?"

"What Man?" He Rejoined,  Rather Wincing--For He Knew Well Enough To What

She Alluded.

"The Man--Gentleman,  Or Whatever He Is--Who Had You Called Down To Him In

The Library."

"By The Way,  Maude--Yes--You Should Not Dart In When I Am Engaged With

Visitors On Business."

"Well,  I Thought It Was Mr. Carr," She Replied,  Glancing At His

Heightened Colour. "What Did He Want?"

"Only To Say A Word To Me On A Matter Of Business."

"It Was The Same Person Who Upset You So When He Called Last Autumn. You

Have Never Been The Same Man Since."

"Don't Take Fancies Into Your Head,  Maude."

"Fancies! You Know Quite Well There Is No Fancy About It. That Man Holds

Some Unpleasant Secret Of Yours,  I Am Certain."

"Maude!"

"Will You Tell It Me?"

"I Have Nothing To Tell."

"Ah,  Well; I Expected You Wouldn't Speak," She Answered,  With Subdued

Bitterness; As Much As To Say,  That She Made A Merit Of Resigning Herself

To An Injustice She Could Not Help. "You Have Been Keeping Things From Me

A Long Time."

"I Have Kept Nothing From You It Would Give You Pleasure To Know. It Is

Not--Maude,  Pray Hear Me--It Is Not Always Expedient For A Man To Make

Known To His Wife The Jars And Rubs He Has Himself To Encounter. A

Hundred Trifles May Arise That Are Best Spared To Her. That Gentleman's

Business Concerned Others As Well As Myself,  And I Am Not At Liberty To

Speak Of It."

"You Refuse,  Then,  To Admit Me To Your Confidence?"

"In This I Do. I Am The Best Judge--And You Must Allow Me To Be So--Of

What Ought,  And What Ought Not,  To Be Spoken Of To You. You May Always

Rely Upon My Acting For Your Best Happiness,  As Far As Lies In My Power."

He Had Been Pacing The Room Whilst He Spoke. Lady Hartledon Was In Too

Resentful A Mood To Answer. Glancing At Her,  He Stood By The Mantelpiece

And Leaned His Elbow Upon It.

"I Want To Make Known To You Another Matter,  Maude. If I Have Kept It

From You--"

"Does It Concern This Secret Business Of Yours?" She Interrupted.

"No."

"Then Let Us Have Done With This First,  If You Please. Who Is Gorton?"

"Who Is--Gorton?" He Repeated,  After A Dumbfounded Pause. "What Gorton?"

"Well,  I Don't Know; Unless It's That Man Who Gave Evidence At The

Inquest On Your Brother."

Lord Hartledon Stared At Her,  As Well He Might; And Gulped Down His

Breath,  Which Seemed Choking Him. "But What About Gorton? Why Do You Ask

Me The Question?"

"Because I Fancy He Is Connected With This Trouble. I--I Thought I Heard

You And Mr. Carr Mention The Name Yesterday When You Were Whispering

Together. I'm Sure I Did--There!"

As Far As Lord Hartledon Remembered,  He And Mr. Carr Had Not Been

Whispering Together Yesterday; Had Not Mentioned The Name Of Gorton.

They Had Done With The Subject At That Late Sitting,  The Night Of The

Barrister's Arrival; Who Had Brought News That The Gorton,  That Morning

Tried For A Great Crime,  Was _Not_ The Gorton Of Whom They Were In

Search. Lord Hartledon Gazed At His Wife With Questioning Eyes,  But She

Persisted In Her Assertion. It Was Sinfully Untrue; But How Else Could

She Account For Knowing The Name?

"Do You Suppose I Dreamed It,  Lord Hartledon?"

"I Don't Know Whether You Dreamed It Or Not,  Maude. Mr. Carr Has

Certainly Spoken To Me Since He Came Of A Man Of That Name; But As

Certainly Not In Your Hearing. One Gorton Was Tried For His Life On

Friday--Or Almost For His Life--And He Mentioned To Me The Circumstances

Of The Case: Housebreaking,  Accompanied By Violence,  Which Ended In

Death. I Cannot Understand You,  Maude,  Or The Fancies You Seem To Be

Taking Up."

She Saw How It Was--He Would Admit Nothing: And She Looked Straight Out

Across The Dreary Park,  A Certain Obstinate Defiance Veiled In Her Eyes.

By The Help Of Heaven Or Earth,  She Would Find Out This Secret That He

Refused To Disclose To Her.

"Almost Every Action Of Your Life Bespeaks Concealment," She Resumed.

"Look At Those Letters You Received In Your Dressing-Room On Friday

Night: You Just Opened Them And Thrust Them Unread Into Your Pocket,

Because I Happened To Be There. And Yet You Talk Of Caring For Me! I Know

Those Letters Contained Some Secret Or Other You Dare Not Tell Me."

She Rose In Some Temper,  And Gave The Fire A Fierce Stir.

Lord Hartledon Kept Her By Him.

"One Of Those Letters Was From Mr. Carr; And I Presume You Can Make No

Objection To My Hearing From Him. The Other--Maude,  I Have Waited Until

Now To Disclose Its Contents To You; I Would Not Mar Your Happiness

Yesterday."

She Looked Up At Him. Something In His Voice,  A Sad Pitying Tenderness,

Caused Her Heart To Beat A Shade Quicker. "It Was A Foreign Letter,

Maude. I Think You Observed That. It Bore The French Postmark."

A Light Broke Upon Her. "Oh,  Percival,  It Is About Robert! Surely He Is

Not Worse!"

He Drew Her Closer To Him: Not Speaking.

"He Is Not Dead?" She Said,  With A Rush Of Tears. "Ah,  You Need Not Tell

Me; I See It. Robert! Robert!"

"It Has Been A Happy Death,  Maude,  And He Is Better Off. He Was Quite

Ready To Go. I Wish We Were As Ready!"

Lord Hartledon Took Out The Letter And Read The Chief Portion Of It To

Her. One Little Part He Dexterously Omitted,  Describing The Cause Of

Death--Disease Of The Heart.

"But I Thought He Was Getting So Much Better. What Has Killed Him In This

Sudden Manner?"

"Well,  There Was No Great Hope From The First. I Confess I Have

Entertained None. Mr. Hillary,  You Know,  Warned Us It Might End Either

Way."

"Was It Decline?" She Asked,  Her Tears Falling.

"He Has Been Declining Gradually,  No Doubt."

"Oh,  Percival! Why Did You Not Tell Me At Once? It Seems So Cruel To Have

Had All That Entertainment Yesterday! This Is Why You Did Not Wish Us To

Dance!"

"And If I Had Told You,  And Stopped The Entertainment,  Allowing The Poor

Little Fellow To Be Christened In Gloom And Sorrow,  You Would Have Been

The First To Reproach Me; You Might Have Said It Augured Ill-Luck For The

Child."

"Well,  Perhaps I Should; Yes,  I Am Sure I Should. You Have Acted Rightly,

After All,  Val." And It Was A Candid Admission,  Considering What She Had

Been Previously Saying. He Bent Towards Her With A Smile,  His Voice Quite

Unsteady With Its Earnestness.

"You See Now With What Motive I Kept The Letter From You. Maude! Cannot

This Be An Earnest That You Should Trust Me For The Rest? In All I Do,  As

Heaven Is My Witness,  I Place Your Comfort First And Foremost."

"Don't Be Angry With Me," She Cried,  Softening At The Words.

He Laid His Hand On His Wife's Bent Head,  Thinking How Far He Was From

Anger. Anger? He Would Have Died For Her Then,  At That Moment,  If It

Might Have Saved Her From The Sin And Shame That She Must Share With Him.

"Have You Told Mamma,  Percival?"

"Not Yet. It Would Not Have Been Kept From You Long Had She Known It. She

Is Not Up Yet,  I Think."

"Who Has Written?"

"The Doctor Who Attended Him."

"You'll Let Me Read The Letter?"

"I Have Written To Desire That Full Particulars May Be Sent To You: You

Shall Read That One."

The Tacit Refusal Did Not Strike Her. She Only Supposed The Future Letter

Would Be More Explanatory. He Was Always Anxious For Her; And He Had

Written Off On The Friday Night To Ask For A Letter Giving Fuller

Particulars,  Whilst Avoiding Mention Of The Cause Of Death.

Thus Harmony For The Hour Was Restored Between Them; And Lord Hartledon

Stood The Dowager's Loud Reproaches With Equanimity. In Possession Of The

News Of That Darling Angel's Death Ever Since Friday Night,  And To Have

Bottled It Up Within Him Till Sunday! She Wondered What He Thought Of

Himself!

After All,  Val Had Not Quite "Bottled It Up." He Had Made It Known To His

Brother-In-Law,  Lord Kirton,  And Also To Mr. Carr. Both Had Agreed That

Nothing Had Better Be Said Until The Christening-Day Was Over.

But There Came A Reaction. When Lady Hartledon Had Got Over Her First

Grief,  The Other Annoyance Returned To Her,  And She Fell Again To

Brooding Over It In A Very Disturbing Fashion. She Merited Blame For This

In A Degree; But Not So Much As Appears On The Surface. If That Idea,

Which She Was Taking Up Very Seriously,  Were Correct--That Her Husband's

Succession Was Imperilled--It Would Be The Greatest Misfortune That Could

Happen To Her In Life. What Had She Married For But Position?--Rank,

Wealth,  Her Title? Any Earthly Misfortune Would Be Less Keen Than This.

Any Earthly Misfortune! Poor Maude!

It Was A Sombre Dinner That Evening; The News Of Captain Kirton's Death

Making It So. Besides Relatives,  Very Few Guests Were Staying In The

House; And The Large And Elaborate Dinner-Party Of The Previous Day Was

Reduced To A Small One On This. The First To Come Into The Drawing-Room

Afterwards,  Following Pretty Closely On The Ladies,  Was Mr. Carr. The

Dowager,  Who Rarely Paid Attention To Appearances,  Or To Anything Else,

Except Her Own Comfort,  Had Her Feet Up On A Sofa,  And Was Fast Asleep;

Two Ladies Were Standing In Front Of The Fire,  Talking In Undertones;

Lady Hartledon Sat On A Sofa A Little Apart,  Her Baby On Her Knee; And

Her Sister-In-Law,  Lady Kirton,  A Fragile And Rather Cross-Looking Young

Woman,  Who Looked As If A Breath Would Blow Her Away,  Was Standing Over

Her,  Studying The Infant's Face. The Latter Lady Moved Away And Joined

The Group At The Fire As Mr. Carr Approached Lady Hartledon.

"You Have Your Little Charge Here,  I See!"

"Please Excuse It; I Meant To Have Sent Him Away Before Any Of You Came

Up," She Said,  Quite Pleadingly. "Sarah Took Upon Herself To Proclaim

Aloud That His Eyes Were Not Straight,  And I Could Not Help Having Him

Brought Down To Refute Her Words. Not Straight,  Indeed! She's Only

Envious Of Him."

Sarah Was Lady Kirton. Mr. Carr Smiled.

"She Has No Children Herself. I Think You Might Be Proud Of Your Godson,

Mr. Carr. But He Ought Not To Have Been Here To Receive You,  For All

That."

"I Have Come Up Soon To Say Good-Bye,  Lady Hartledon. In Ten Minutes I

Must Be Gone."

"In All This Snow! What A Night To Travel In!"

"Necessity Has No Law. So,  Sir,  You'd Imprison My Finger,  Would You!"

He Had Touched The Child's Hand,  And In A Moment It Was Clasped Round His

Finger. Lady Hartledon Laughed.

"Lady Kirton--The Most Superstitious Woman In The World--Would Say That

Was An Omen: You Are Destined To Be