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

Wrong Finger,  Maude. Ladies Don't Wear Rings On The Little Finger."

"But It Won't Go On The Others," Said Maude Dolefully: "It's Too Small."

"Make A Larger One."

"Make One For Me,  Maude," Again Broke In Anne's Little Voice.

"No,  I Won't!" Returned Maude. "You Are Big Enough To Thread Beads For

Yourself."

"No,  She's Not," Said Reginald. "Make Her One,  Maude."

"No,  Don't,  Maude," Said Edward. "Let Them Do Things For Themselves."

"You Hear!" Whispered Lady Hartledon.

"I Do Hear. And Val Sits There And Never Reproves Them; And The Old

Dowager's Head And Eyes Are Nodding And Twinkling Approval."

Lady Laura Was An Energetic Little Woman,  Thin,  And Pale,  And Excessively

Active,  With A Propensity For Setting The World Straight,  And A Tongue As

Unceremoniously Free As The Dowager's. In The Cause Of Justice She Would

Have Stood Up To Battle With A Giant. Lady Hartledon Was About To Make

Some Response,  But She Bade Her Wait; Her Attention Was Absorbed By The

Children. Perhaps The Truth Was That She Was Burning To Have A Say In The

Matter Herself.

"Maude," She Called Out,  "If That Ring Is Too Small For You,  It Would Do

For Anne,  And Be Kind Of You To Give It Her."

Maude Looked Dubious. Left To Herself,  The Child Would Have Been Generous

Enough. She Glanced At The Dowager.

"May I Give It Her,  Grand'ma?"

Grand'ma Was Conveniently Deaf. She Would Rather Have Cut The Ring In

Two Than It Should Be Given To The Hated Child: But,  On The Other Hand,

She Did Not Care To Offend Laura Level,  Who Possessed Inconveniently

Independent Opinions,  And Did Not Shrink From Proclaiming Them. Seizing

The Poker,  She Stirred The Fire,  And Created A Divertissement.

In The Midst Of It,  Edward Left His Sofa And Walked Up To The Group And

Their Beads. He Was Very Weak,  And Tottered Unintentionally Against Anne.

The Touch Destroyed Her Equilibrium,  And She Fell Into Maude's Lap. There

Was No Damage Done,  But The Box Of Beads Was Upset On To The Carpet.

Maude Screamed At The Loss Of Her Treasures,  Rose Up With Anger,  And

Slapped Anne. The Child Cried Out.

"Why D'you Hit Her?" Cried Reginald. "It Was Edward's Fault; He Pushed

Her."

"What's That!" Exclaimed Edward. "My Fault! I'll Teach You To Say That,"

And He Struck Reginald A Tingling Slap On The Cheek.

Of Course There Was Loud Crying. The Dowager Looked On With A Red Face.

Lady Margaret Cooper,  Who Had No Children Of Her Own,  Stopped Her Ears.

Lady Laura Laid Her Hand On Her Sister-In Law's Wrist.

"And You Can Witness These Scenes,  And Not Check Them! You Are Changed,

Indeed,  Anne!"

"If I Interfere To Protect My Children,  I Am Checked And Prevented,"

Replied Lady Hartledon,  With Quivering Lips. "This Scene Is Nothing To

What We Have Sometimes."

"Who Checks You--Val?"

"The Dowager. But He Does Not Interpose For Me. Where The Children Are

Concerned,  He Tacitly Lets Her Have Sway. It Is Not Often Anything Of

This Sort Takes Place In His Presence."

The Noise Continued: All The Children Seemed To Be Fighting Together.

Anne Went Forward And Drew Her Own Two Out Of The Fray.

"Pray Send Those Two Screamers To The Nursery,  Lady Hartledon," Cried The

Dowager.

"I Cannot Think Why They Are Allowed In The Drawing-Room At All," Said

Lady Margaret,  Addressing No One In Particular,  Unless It We Way. She Seemed To Have Discovered The Trick Of Coming And Going

Undisturbingly. She Was Docile And Affectionate,  But Not In The Least

Sentimental. He Had Known Men Whose First Years Of Marriage,  Not To

Speak Of The First Months,  Had Been Rendered Unbearable By The Fact That

Their Wives Were Constantly Demanding Or Expecting The Expression Of

Sentiments Which Unsentimental Males Had Not At Their Fingers' Ends. So

The Men Had Been Annoyed Or Bored,  And The Women Had Been Dissatisfied.

Emily Demanded Nothing Of The Sort,  And Was Certainly Not Dissatisfied.

She Looked Very Handsome And Happy. Her Looks Positively Improved,  And

When People Began To Call And She To Pay Visits,  She Was Very Much

Liked. He Had Certainly Been Quite Right In Deciding To Ask Her To Marry

Him. If She Had A Son,  He Should Congratulate Himself Greatly. The More

He Saw Of Osborn The More He Disliked Him. It Appeared That There Was A

Prospect Of A Child There.

This Last Was Indeed True,  And Emily Had Been Much Touched And Awakened

To Sympathy. It Had Gradually Become Revealed To Her That The Osborns

Were Poorer Than They Could Decently Admit. Emily Had Discovered That

They Could Not Even Remain In The Lodgings In Duke Street,  Though She

Did Not Know The Reason,  Which Was That Captain Osborn Had Been Obliged

To Pay Certain Moneys To Stave Off A Scandal Not Entirely Unconnected

With The Young Woman His Arm Had Encircled The Day Walderhurst Had Seen

Him On The Top Of The Bus. He Was Very Well Aware That If He Was To

Obtain Anything From Lord Walderhurst,  There Were Several Things Which

Must Be Kept Entirely Dark. Even A Scandal Belonging To The Past Could

Be Made As Unpleasant As An Error Of To-Day. Also The Young Woman Of The

Bead Cape Knew How To Manage Him. But They Must Remove To Cheaper

Lodgings,  And The Rooms In Duke Street Had Been Far From Desirable.

Lady Walderhurst Came In One Morning From A Walk,  With A Fresh Colour

And Bright Eyes,  And Before Taking Off Her Hat Went To Her Husband's

Study.

"May I Come In?"

Walderhurst Had Been Writing Some Uninteresting Letters And Looked Up

With A Smile.

"Certainly," He Answered. "What A Colour You Have! Exercise Agrees With

You. You Ought To Ride."

"That Was What Captain Osborn Said. If You Don't Mind,  I Should Like To

Ask You Something."

"I Don't Mind. You Are A Reasonable Woman,  Emily. One's Safe With You."

"It Is Something Connected With The Osborns."

"Indeed!" Chilling Slightly. "I Don't Care About Them,  You Know."

"You Don't Dislike Her,  Do You?"

"No-O,  Not Exactly."

"She's--The Truth Is,  She Is Not At All Well," With A Trifle Of

Hesitance; "She Ought To Be Better Taken Care Of Than She Is In

Lodgings,  And They Are Obliged To Take Very Cheap Ones."

"If He Had Been A More Respectable Fellow His Circumstances Would Have

Been Different," Rather Stiffly.

Emily Felt Alarmed. She Had Not Dreamed Of The Temerity Of Any Remark

Suggestive Of Criticism.

"Yes," Hastily,  "Of Course. I Am Sure You Know Best; But--I Thought

Perhaps--"

Walderhurst Liked Her Timidity. To See A Fine,  Tall,  Upstanding Creature

Colour In That Way Was Not Disagreeable When One Realised That She

Coloured Because She Feared She Might Offend One.

"What Did You Think 'Perhaps'?" Was His Lenient Response.

Her Colour Grew Warmer,  But This Time From A Sense Of Relief,  Because He

Was Evidently Not As Displeased As He Might Have Been.

"I Took A Long Walk This Morning," She Said. "I Went Through The High

Wood And Came Out By The Place Called The Kennel Farm. I Was Thinking A

Good Deal Of Poor Mrs. Osborn Because I Had Heard From Her This Morning,

And She Seemed So Unhappy. I Was Looking At Her Letter Again When I

Turned Into The Lane Leading To The House. Then I Saw That No One Was

Living There,  And I Could Not Help Going In To Look--It Is Such A

Delightful Old Building,  With Its Queer Windows And Chimneys,  And The

Ivy Which Seems Never To Have Been Clipped. The House Is So Roomy And

Comfortable--I Peeped In At Windows And Saw Big Fireplacee Former; Whom She Had Known When A

Girl,  And Been Given To Ridiculing More Than Was Quite Polite.

Lord Hartledon Had Left The Room After His Wife. She Sent The Children

To The Nursery; And He Found Her Alone In Her Chamber Sobbing Bitterly.

Certainly He Was A Contradiction. He Fondly Took Her In His Arms,

Beseeching Her To Pardon Him,  If He Had Unwittingly Slighted Her,  As

Laura Implied; And His Blue Eyes Were Beaming With Affection,  His Voice

Was Low With Persuasive Tenderness.

"There Are Times," She Sobbed,  "When I Am Tempted To Wish Myself Back In

My Father's House!"

"I Cannot Think Whence All This Discomfort Arises!" He Weakly Exclaimed.

"Of One Thing,  Anne,  Rest Assured: As Soon As Edward Changes For The

Better Or The Worse--And One It Must Inevitably Be--That Mischief-Making

Old Woman Shall Quit My House For Ever."

"Edward Will Never Change For The Better," She Said. "For The Worse,  He

May Soon: For The Better,  Never."

"I Know: Hillary Has Told Me. Bear With Things A Little Longer,  And

Believe That I Will Remedy Them The Moment Remedy Is Possible. I Am Your

Husband."

Lady Hartledon Lifted Her Eyes To His. "We Cannot Go On As We Are Going

On Now. Tell Me What It Is You Have To Bear. You Remind Me That You Are

My Husband; I Now Remind You That I Am Your Wife: Confide In Me. I Will

Be True And Loving To You,  Whatever It May Be."

"Not Yet; In A Little Time,  Perhaps. Bear With Me Still,  My Dear Wife."

His Look Was Haggard; His Voice Bore A Sound Of Anguish; He Clasped Her

Hand To Pain As He Left Her. Whatever Might Be His Care,  Anne Could Not

Doubt His Love.

And As He Went Into The Drawing-Room,  A Smile On His Face,  Chatting With

The Curate,  Laughing With His Newly-Married Wife,  Both Those Unsuspicious

Visitors Could Have Protested When They Went Forth,  That Never Was A Man

More Free From Trouble Than That Affable Servant Of Her Majesty's The

Earl Of Hartledon.

A Change For The Worse Occurred In The Child,  Lord Elster; And After Two

Or Three Weeks' Sinking He Died,  And Was Buried At Hartledon By The Side

Of His Mother. Hartledon's Sister Quitted Hartledon House For A Change;

But The Countess-Dowager Was There Still,  And Disturbed Its Silence With

Moans And Impromptu Lamentations,  Especially When Going Up And Down The

Staircase And Along The Corridors.

Mr. Carr,  Who Had Come For The Funeral,  Also Remained. On The Day

Following It He And Lord Hartledon Were Taking A Quiet Walk Together,

When They Met Mrs. Gum. Hartledon Stopped And Spoke To Her In His Kindly

Manner. She Was Less Nervous Than She Used To Be; And She And Her Husband

Were Once More At Peace In Their House.

"I Would Not Presume To Say A Word Of Sympathy,  My Lord," She Said,

Curtseying,  "But We Felt It Indeed. Jabez Was Cut Up Like Anything When

He Came In Yesterday From The Funeral."

Val Looked At Her,  A Meaning She Understood In His Earnest Eyes. "Yes,  It

Is Hard To Part With Our Children: But When Grief Is Over,  We Live In The

Consolation That They Have Only Gone Before Us To A Better Place,  Where

Sin And Sorrow Are Not. We Shall Join Them Later."

She Went Away,  Tears Of Joy Filling Her Eyes. _She_ Had A Son Up There,

Waiting For _Her_; And She Knew Lord Hartledon Meant Her To Think Of Him

When He Had So Spoken.

"Carr," Said Val,  "I Never Told You The Finale Of That Tragedy. George

Gordon Of The Mutiny,  Did Turn Up: He Lived And Died In England."

"No!"

"He Died At Calne. It Was That Poor Woman's Son."

Mr. Carr Looked Round For An Explanation. He Knew Her As The Wife Of

Clerk Gum,  And Sister To Hartledon's Housekeeper. Val Told Him All,  As

The Facts Had Come Out To Him.

"Pike Always Puzzled Me," He Said. "Disguised As He Was With His Black

Hair,  His Face Stained With Some Dark Juice,  There Was A Look In Him That

Used To Strike Some Chord In My Memory. It Lay In The Eyes,  I Think.

You'll Keep These Facts Sacred,  Carr,  For The Parents' Sake. They Are

Known Only To Four Of Us."

"Have You Told Your Wife Yet?" Questioned Mr. Carr,  Recurring To A

Different Subject.

"No. I Could Not,  Somehow,  Whilst The Child Lay Dead In The House. She

Shall Know It Shortly."

"And What About Dismissing The Countess-Dowager? You Will