"My replies informed the doctor, in the first place, that I had so managed matters at Thorpe Ambrose as to produce a general impression that Armadale intended to marry me; in the second place, that my husband"s early life had not been of a kind to exhibit him favorably in the eyes of the world; in the third place, that we had been married, without any witnesses present who knew us, at a large parish church in which two other couples had been married the same morning, to say nothing of the dozens on dozens of other couples (confusing all remembrance of us in the minds of the officiating people) who had been married since. When I had put the doctor in possession of these facts--and when he had further ascertained that Midwinter and I had gone abroad among strangers immediately after leaving the church; and that the men employed on board the yacht in which Armadale had sailed from Somersetshire (before my marriage) were now away in ships voyaging to the other end of the world--his confidence in my prospects showed itself plainly in his face. "So far as I can see," he said, "your husband"s claim to you (after you have stepped into the place of the dead Mr.
Armadale"s widow) would rest on nothing but his own bare a.s.sertion.
And _that_ I think you may safely set at defiance. Excuse my apparent distrust of the gentleman. But there might be a misunderstanding between you in the future, and it is highly desirable to ascertain beforehand exactly what he could or could not do under those circ.u.mstances. And now that we have done with the main obstacle that _I_ see in the way of your success, let us by all means come to the obstacle that _you_ see next!"
"I was willing enough to come to it. The tone in which he spoke of Midwinter, though I myself was responsible for it, jarred on me horribly, and roused for the moment some of the old folly of feeling which I fancied I had laid asleep forever. I rushed at the chance of changing the subject, and mentioned the discrepancy in the register between the hand in which Midwinter had signed the name of Allan Armadale, and the hand in which Armadale of Thorpe Ambrose had been accustomed to write his name, with an eagerness which it quite diverted the doctor to see.
""Is _that_ all?" he asked, to my infinite surprise and relief, when I had done. "My dear lady, pray set your mind at ease! If the late Mr.
Armadale"s lawyers want a proof of your marriage, they won"t go to the church-register for it, I can promise you!"
""What!" I exclaimed, in astonishment. "Do you mean to say that the entry in the register is not a proof of my marriage?"
""It is a proof," said the doctor, "that you have been married to somebody. But it is no proof that you have been married to Mr. Armadale of Thorpe Ambrose. Jack Nokes or Tom Styles (excuse the homeliness of the ill.u.s.tration!) might have got the license, and gone to the church to be married to you under Mr. Armadale"s name; and the register (how could it do otherwise?) must in that case have innocently a.s.sisted the deception. I see I surprise you. My dear madam, when you opened this interesting business you surprised _me_--I may own it now--by laying so much stress on the curious similarity between the two names. You might have entered on the very daring and romantic enterprise in which you are now engaged, without necessarily marrying your present husband. Any other man would have done just as well, provided he was willing to take Mr. Armadale"s name for the purpose."
"I felt my temper going at this. "Any other man would _not_ have done just as well," I rejoined, instantly. "But for the similarity of the names, I should never have thought of the enterprise at all."
"The doctor admitted that he had spoken too hastily. "That personal view of the subject had, I confess, escaped me," he said. "However, let us get back to the matter in hand. In the course of what I may term an adventurous medical life, I have been brought more than once into contact with the gentlemen of the law, and have had opportunities of observing their proceedings in cases of, let us say, Domestic Jurisprudence. I am quite sure I am correct in informing you that the proof which will be required by Mr. Armadale"s representatives will be the evidence of a witness present at the marriage who can speak to the ident.i.ty of the bride and bridegroom from his own personal knowledge."
""But I have already told you," I said, "that there was no such person present."
""Precisely," rejoined the doctor. "In that case, what you now want, before you can safely stir a step in the matter, is--if you will pardon me the expression--a ready-made witness, possessed of rare moral and personal resources, who can be trusted to a.s.sume the necessary character, and to make the necessary Declaration before a magistrate. Do you know of any such person?" asked the doctor, throwing himself back in his chair, and looking at me with the utmost innocence.
""I only know you," I said.
"The doctor laughed softly. "So like a woman!" he remarked, with the most exasperating good humor. "The moment she sees her object, she dashes at it headlong the nearest way. Oh, the s.e.x! the s.e.x!"
""Never mind the s.e.x!" I broke out, impatiently. "I want a serious answer--Yes or No?"
"The doctor rose, and waved his hand with great gravity and dignity all round the room. "You see this vast establishment," he began; "you can possibly estimate to some extent the immense stake I have in its prosperity and success. Your excellent natural sense will tell you that the Princ.i.p.al of this Sanitarium must be a man of the most unblemished character--"
""Why waste so many words," I said, "when one word will do? You mean No!"
"The Princ.i.p.al of the Sanitarium suddenly relapsed into the character of my confidential friend.
""My dear lady," he said, "it isn"t Yes, and it isn"t No, at a moment"s notice. Give me till to-morrow afternoon. By that time I engage to be ready to do one of two things--either to withdraw myself from this business at once, or to go into it with you heart and soul. Do you agree to that? Very good; we may drop the subject, then, till to-morrow. Where can I call on you when I have decided what to do?"
"There was no objection to my trusting him with my address at the hotel.
I had taken care to present myself there as "Mrs. Armadale"; and I had given Midwinter an address at the neighboring post-office to write to when he answered my letters. We settled the hour at which the doctor was to call on me; and, that matter arranged, I rose to go, resisting all offers of refreshment, and all proposals to show me over the house. His smooth persistence in keeping up appearances after we had thoroughly understood each other disgusted me. I got away from him as soon as I could, and came back to my diary and my own room.
"We shall see how it ends to-morrow. My own idea is that my confidential friend will say Yes."
"November 24th.--The doctor has said Yes, as I supposed; but on terms which I never antic.i.p.ated. The condition on which I have secured his services amounts to nothing less than the payment to him, on my stepping into the place of Armadale"s widow, of half my first year"s income--in other words, six hundred pounds!
"I protested against this extortionate demand in every way I could think of. All to no purpose. The doctor met me with the most engaging frankness. Nothing, he said, but the accidental embarra.s.sment of his position at the present time would have induced him to mix himself up in the matter at all. He would honestly confess that he had exhausted his own resources, and the resources of other persons whom he described as his "backers," in the purchase and completion of the Sanitarium. Under those circ.u.mstances, six hundred pounds in prospect was an object to him. For that sum he would run the serious risk of advising and a.s.sisting me. Not a farthing less would tempt him; and there he left it, with his best and friendliest wishes, in my hands!
"It ended in the only way in which it could end. I had no choice but to accept the terms, and to let the doctor settle things on the spot as he pleased. The arrangement once made between us, I must do him the justice to say that he showed no disposition to let the gra.s.s grow under his feet. He called briskly for pen, ink and paper, and suggested opening the campaign at Thorpe Ambrose by to-night"s post.
"We agreed on a form of letter which I wrote, and which he copied on the spot. I entered into no particulars at starting. I simply a.s.serted that I was the widow of the deceased Mr. Armadale; that I had been privately married to him; that I had returned to England on his sailing in the yacht from Naples; and that I begged to inclose a copy of my marriage certificate, as a matter of form with which I presumed it was customary to comply. The letter was addressed to "The Representatives of the late Allan Armadale, Esq., Thorpe Ambrose, Norfolk." And the doctor himself carried it away, and put it in the post.
"I am not so excited and so impatient for results as I expected to be, now that the first step is taken. The thought of Midwinter haunts me like a ghost. I have been writing to him again--as before, to keep up appearances. It will be my last letter, I think. My courage feels shaken, my spirits get depressed, when my thoughts go back to Turin.
I am no more capable of facing the consideration of Midwinter at this moment than I was in the by-gone time, The day of reckoning with him, once distant and doubtful, is a day that may come to me now, I know not how soon. And here I am, trusting myself blindly to the chapter of Accidents still!"
"November 25th.--At two o"clock to-day the doctor called again by appointment. He has been to his lawyers (of course without taking them into our confidence) to put the case simply of proving my marriage.
The result confirms what he has already told me. The pivot on which the whole matter will turn, if my claim is disputed, will be the question of ident.i.ty; and it may be necessary for the witness to make his Declaration in the magistrate"s presence before the week is out.
"In this position of affairs, the doctor thinks it important that we should be within easy reach of each other, and proposes to find a quiet lodging for me in his neighborhood. I am quite willing to go anywhere; for, among the other strange fancies that have got possession of me, I have an idea that I shall feel more completely lost to Midwinter if I move out of the neighborhood in which his letters are addressed to me.
I was awake and thinking of him again last night. This morning I have finally decided to write to him no more.
"After staying half an hour, the doctor left me, having first inquired whether I would like to accompany him to Hampstead to look for lodgings.
I informed him that I had some business of my own which would keep me in London. He inquired what the business was. "You will see," I said, "to-morrow or next day."
"I had a moment"s nervous trembling when I was by myself again. My business in London, besides being a serious business in a woman"s eyes, took my mind back to Midwinter in spite of me. The prospect of removing to my new lodging had reminded me of the necessity of dressing in my new character. The time had come now for getting _my widow"s weeds_.
"My first proceeding, after putting my bonnet on, was to provide myself with money. I got what I wanted to fit me out for the character of Armadale"s widow by nothing less than the sale of Armadale"s own present to me on my marriage--the ruby ring! It proved to be a more valuable jewel than I had supposed. I am likely to be spared all money anxieties for some time to come.
"On leaving the jeweler"s, I went to the great mourning shop in Regent Street. In four-and-twenty hours (if I can give them no more) they have engaged to dress me in my widow"s costume from head to foot. I had another feverish moment when I left the shop; and, by way of further excitement on this agitating day, I found a surprise in store for me on my return to the hotel. An elderly gentleman was announced to be waiting to see me. I opened my sitting-room door, and there was old Bashwood!
"He had got my letter that morning, and had started for London by the next train to answer it in person. I had expected a great deal from him, but I had certainly not expected _that_. It flattered me. For the moment, I declare it flattered me!
"I pa.s.s over the wretched old creature"s raptures and reproaches, and groans and tears, and weary long prosings about the lonely months he had pa.s.sed at Thorpe Ambrose, brooding over my desertion of him. He was quite eloquent at times; but I don"t want his eloquence here. It is needless to say that I put myself right with him, and consulted his feelings before I asked him for his news. What a blessing a woman"s vanity is sometimes! I almost forgot my risks and responsibilities in my anxieties to be charming. For a minute or two I felt a warm little flutter of triumph. And it was a triumph--even with an old man! In a quarter of an hour I had him smirking and smiling, hanging on my lightest words in an ecstasy, and answering all the questions I put to him like a good little child.
"Here is his account of affairs at Thorpe Ambrose, as I gently extracted it from him bit by bit:
"In the first place, the news of Armadale"s death has reached Miss Milroy. It has so completely overwhelmed her that her father has been compelled to remove her from the school. She is back at the cottage, and the doctor is in daily attendance. Do I pity her? Yes! I pity her exactly as much as she once pitied me!
"In the next place, the state of affairs at the great house, which I expected to find some difficulty in comprehending, turns out to be quite intelligible, and certainly not discouraging so far. Only yesterday, the lawyers on both sides came to an understanding. Mr. Darch (the family solicitor of the Blanchards, and Armadale"s bitter enemy in past times) represents the interests of Miss Blanchard, who (in the absence of any male heir) is next heir to the estate, and who has, it appears, been in London for some time past. Mr. Smart, of Norwich (originally employed to overlook Bashwood), represents the deceased Armadale. And this is what the two lawyers have settled between them.
"Mr. Darch, acting for Miss Blanchard, has claimed the possession of the estate, and the right of receiving the rents at the Christmas audit, in her name. Mr. Smart, on his side, has admitted that there is great weight in the family solicitor"s application. He cannot see his way, as things are now, to contesting the question of Armadale"s death, and he will consent to offer no resistance to the application, if Mr. Darch will consent, on his side, to a.s.sume the responsibility of taking possession in Miss Blanchard"s name. This Mr. Darch has already done; and the estate is now virtually in Miss Blanchard"s possession.
"One result of this course of proceeding will be (as Bashwood thinks) to put Mr. Darch in the position of the person who really decides on my claim to the widow"s place and the widow"s money. The income being charged on the estate, it must come out of Miss Blanchard"s pocket; and the question of paying it would appear, therefore, to be a question for Miss Blanchard"s lawyer. To-morrow will probably decide whether this view is the right one, for my letter to Armadale"s representatives will have been delivered at the great house this morning.
"So much for what old Bashwood had to tell me. Having recovered my influence over him, and possessed myself of all his information so far, the next thing to consider was the right use to turn him to in the future. He was entirely at my disposal, for his place at the steward"s office has been already taken by Miss Blanchard"s man of business, and he pleaded hard to be allowed to stay and serve my interests in London.
There would not have been the least danger in letting him stay, for I had, as a matter of course, left him undisturbed in his conviction that I really am the widow of Armadale of Thorpe Ambrose. But with the doctor"s resources at my command, I wanted no a.s.sistance of any sort in London; and it occurred to me that I might make Bashwood more useful by sending him back to Norfolk to watch events there in my interests.
"He looked sorely disappointed (having had an eye evidently to paying his court to me in my widowed condition!) when I told him of the conclusion at which I had arrived. But a few words of persuasion, and a modest hint that he might cherish hopes in the future if he served me obediently in the present, did wonders in reconciling him to the necessity of meeting my wishes. He asked helplessly for "instructions"
when it was time for him to leave me and travel back by the evening train. I could give him none, for I had no idea as yet of what the legal people might or might not do. "But suppose something happens," he persisted, "that I don"t understand, what am I to do, so far away from you?" I could only give him one answer. "Do nothing," I said. "Whatever it is, hold your tongue about it, and write, or come up to London immediately to consult me." With those parting directions, and with an understanding that we were to correspond regularly, I let him kiss my hand, and sent him off to the train.
"Now that I am alone again, and able to think calmly of the interview between me and my elderly admirer, I find myself recalling a certain change in old Bashwood"s manner which puzzled me at the time, and which puzzles me still.
"Even in his first moments of agitation at seeing me, I thought that his eyes rested on my face with a new kind of interest while I was speaking to him. Besides this, he dropped a word or two afterward, in telling me of his lonely life at Thorpe Ambrose, which seemed to imply that he had been sustained in his solitude by a feeling of confidence about his future relations with me when we next met. If he had been a younger and a bolder man (and if any such discovery had been possible), I should almost have suspected him of having found out something about my past life which had made him privately confident of controlling me, if I showed any disposition to deceive and desert him again. But such an idea as this in connection with old Bashwood is simply absurd. Perhaps I am overexcited by the suspense and anxiety of my present position? Perhaps the merest fancies and suspicions are leading me astray? Let this be as it may, I have, at any rate, more serious subjects than the subject of old Bashwood to occupy me now. Tomorrow"s post may tell me what Armadale"s representatives think of the claim of Armadale"s widow."
"November 26th.--The answer has arrived this morning, in the form (as Bashwood supposed) of a letter from Mr. Darch. The crabbed old lawyer acknowledges my letter in three lines. Before he takes any steps, or expresses any opinion on the subject, he wants evidence of ident.i.ty as well as the evidence of the certificate; and he ventures to suggest that it may be desirable, before we go any further, to refer him to my legal advisers.
"Two o"clock.--The doctor called shortly after twelve to say that he had found a lodging for me within twenty minutes" walk of the Sanitarium. In return for his news, I showed him Mr. Darch"s letter. He took it away at once to his lawyers, and came back with the necessary information for my guidance. I have answered Mr. Darch by sending him the address of my legal advisers--otherwise, the doctor"s lawyers--without making any comment on the desire that he has expressed for additional evidence of the marriage. This is all that can be done to-day. To-morrow will bring with it events of greater interest, for to-morrow the doctor is to make his Declaration before the magistrate, and to-morrow I am to move to my new lodging in my widow"s weeds."
"November 27th.--Fairweather Vale Villas.--The Declaration has been made, with all the necessary formalities. And I have taken possession, in my widow"s costume, of my new rooms.