Mrs. Hamlyn was not back until just before dinner: her husband, she heard, had been out all day, and was not yet in. Waiting for him in the drawing-room listlessly enough, she walked to the window to look out.
And there she saw with a sort of shock the same woman standing in the same place as the previous evening. Not once all day long had she thought of her.
"This is a strange thing!" she exclaimed. "I am _sure_ it is this house that she is watching."
On the impulse of the moment she rang the bell and called the man who answered it to the window. He was a faithful, attached servant, had lived with them ever since they were married, and previously to that in Mr. Hamlyn"s family in the West Indies.
"j.a.phet," said his mistress, "do you see that woman opposite? Do you know why she stands there?"
j.a.phet"s answer told nothing. They had all seen her downstairs, yesterday evening as well as this, and wondered what she could be watching the house for.
"She is not waiting for any of the servants, then; not an acquaintance of theirs?"
"No, ma"am, that I"m sure she"s not. She is a stranger to us all."
"Then, j.a.phet, I think you shall go over and question her," spoke his mistress impulsively. "Ask her who she is and what she wants. And tell her that a gentleman"s house cannot be watched with impunity in this country--and she will do well to move away before the police are called to her."
j.a.phet looked at his mistress and hesitated; he was an elderly man and cautious. "I beg your pardon, madam," he began, "for venturing to say as much, but I think it might be best to let her alone. She"ll grow tired of stopping there. And if her motive is to attract pity, and get alms sent out, why the fact of speaking to her might make her bold enough to ask for them. If she comes there to-morrow again, it might be best for the master to take it up himself."
For once in her life Mrs. Hamlyn condescended to listen to the opinion of an inferior, and j.a.phet was dismissed without orders. Close upon that, a cab came rattling down the square, and stopped at the door. Her husband leaped out of it, tossed the driver his fare--he always paid liberally--and let himself in with his latch-key. To Mrs. Hamlyn"s astonishment she had seen the woman dart from her standing-place to the middle of the road, evidently to look at or to accost Mr. Hamlyn. But his movements were too quick: he was within in a moment and had closed the outer door. She then walked rapidly away, and disappeared.
Eliza Hamlyn stood there lost in thought. The nurse came in to take the child; Mr. Hamlyn had gone to his room to dress for dinner.
"Have you seen the woman who has been standing out there yesterday evening and this, Penelope?" she asked of the nurse, speaking upon impulse.
"Oh, yes, ma"am. She has been there all the blessed afternoon. She came into the garden to talk to us."
"Came into the garden to talk to you?" repeated Mrs. Hamlyn. "What did she talk about?"
"Chiefly about Master Walter, ma"am. She seemed to be much taken with him; clasped him in her arms and kissed him, and said how old was he, and was he difficult to manage, and that he had his father"s beautiful brown eyes----"
Penelope stopped abruptly. Mistaking the hard stare her mistress was unconsciously giving her for one of displeasure, she hastened to excuse herself. The fact was, Mrs. Hamlyn"s imagination was beginning to run riot.
"I couldn"t help her speaking to me, ma"am, or her kissing the child; she took me by surprise. That was all she said--except that she asked whether you were likely to be going into the country soon, away from the house here. She didn"t stay five minutes with us, but went back to stand by the railings again."
"Did she speak as a lady or as a common person?" quite fiercely demanded Mrs. Hamlyn. "Is she young?--good-looking?"
"Oh, I think she is a lady," replied the girl, her accent decisive. "And she"s young, as far as I could see, but she had a thick veil over her face. Her hair is lovely, just like threads of pale gold," concluded Penelope, as Mr. Hamlyn"s step was heard.
He took his wife into the dining-room, apologising for being late. She, giving full range to the fancies she had called up, heard him in silence with a hardening haughty face.
"Philip, you know who that woman is," she suddenly exclaimed during a temporary absence of j.a.phet from the dining-room. "What is it that she wants with you?"
"I!" he returned, in a surprise very well feigned if not real. "What woman? Do you mean the one who was standing out there yesterday?"
"You know I do. She has been there again--all the blessed afternoon, as Penelope expresses it. Asking questions of the girl about you--and me--and Walter; and saying the child has your beautiful brown eyes.
_I ask you who is she?_"
Mr. Hamlyn laid down his knife and fork to gaze at his wife. He looked quite at sea.
"Eliza, I a.s.sure you I know nothing about it. Or about her."
"Indeed! Don"t you think it may be some acquaintance, old or new?
Possibly someone you knew in the days gone by--come over seas to see whether you are yet in the land of the living? She has wonderful hair, which looks like spun gold."
All in a moment, as the half-mocking words left her lips, some idea seemed to flash across Philip Hamlyn, bringing with it distress and fear. His face turned to a burning red and then grew white as the hue of the grave.
THE SILENT CHIMES
V.--SILENT FOR EVER
I
Breakfast was on the table in Mr. Hamlyn"s house in Bryanston Square, and Mrs. Hamlyn waited, all impatience, for her lord and master. Not in any particular impatience for the meal itself, but that she might "have it out with him"--the phrase was hers, not mine, as you will see presently--in regard to the perplexity existing in her mind connected with the strange appearance of the damsel watching the house, in her beauty and her pale golden hair.
Why had Philip Hamlyn turned sick and faint--to judge by his changing countenance--when she had charged him at dinner, the previous evening, with knowing something of this mysterious woman? Mysterious in her actions, at all events; probably in herself. Mrs. Hamlyn wanted to know that. No further opportunity had then been given for pursuing the subject. j.a.phet had returned to the room, and before the dinner was at an end, some acquaintance of Mr. Hamlyn had fetched him out for the evening. And he came home with so fearful a headache that he had lain groaning and turning all through the night. Mrs. Hamlyn was not a model of patience, but in all her life she had never felt so impatient as now.
He came into the room looking pale and shivery; a sure sign that he was suffering; that it was not an invented excuse. Yes, the pain was better, he said, in answer to his wife"s question; and might be much better after a strong cup of tea; he could not imagine what had brought it on.
_She_ could have told him, though, had she been gifted with the magical power of reading minds, and have seen the nervous apprehension that was making havoc with his.
Mrs. Hamlyn gave him his tea in silence, and b.u.t.tered a dainty bit of toast to tempt him to eat. But he shook his head.
"I cannot, Eliza. Nothing but tea this morning."
"I am sorry you are ill," she said, by-and-by. "I fear it hurts you to talk; but I want to have it out with you."
"Have it out with me!" cried he, in real or feigned surprise. "Have what out with me?"
"Oh, you know, Philip. About that woman who has been watching the house these two days; evidently watching for you."
"But I told you I knew nothing about her: who she is, or what she is, or what she wants. I really do not know."
Well, so far that was true. But all the while a sick fear lay on his heart that he did know; or, rather, that he was destined to know very shortly.
"When I told you her hair was like threads of fine, pale gold, you seemed to start, Philip, as if you knew some girl or woman with such hair, or had known her."
"I daresay I have known a score of women with such hair. My dear little sister who died, for instance."
"Do not attempt to evade the subject," was the haughty reprimand.
"If----"
Mrs. Hamlyn"s sharp speech was interrupted by the entrance of j.a.phet, bringing in the morning letters. Only one letter, however, for they were not as numerous in those days as they are in these.
"It seems to be important, ma"am," j.a.phet remarked, with the privilege of an old servant, as he handed it to his mistress. She saw it was from Leet Hall, in Mrs. Carradyne"s handwriting, and bore the words: "In haste," above the address.