"Was it you whom I saw with my cousin?" he asked.
"Yes," Strone answered. "I was just leaving. Good night."
"Wait a moment," Lord Sydenham exclaimed. "I wanted to see you particularly. Come upstairs again."
"All right at the House?" Strone asked.
Lord Sydenham laughed curiously.
"That depends on how you look at it," he answered. "The division came off, after all."
"I was paired," Strone said quickly.
"I know! But your men went solid with the opposition."
Strone stood still in blank amazement. It had come, then--already.
Lord Sydenham watched him and was satisfied. He led the way into the drawing-room. Strone followed like a man in a dream. He heard a greeting pa.s.s between the two. Their first few sentences were unintelligible to him.
It had come and sooner than Strone had expected. His men went with the opposition as a result of their bickerings and mistrust. Lord Sydenham contentedly lit a cigarette. Strone stood with clinched hands, his head thrown back, his eyes ablaze with anger. He had been deceived and tricked, and by the very men whose cause in his hands was becoming a religion. It was ign.o.ble. The man and woman watched him curiously.
"My opportunity is gone," Strone said at last. "They have thrown me over."
"It is a proof," Lord Sydenham answered, "of their colossal folly. As for you, Strone, it will be the making of your political career. Come, we are perhaps keeping Lady Malingcourt up. I will walk a little way with you and explain what I mean."
They pa.s.sed out into the cool night. Lord Sydenham removed his hat and walked for some distance, carrying it in his hand. Suddenly he turned to his companion.
"Strone," he said, "you must join us."
Strone laughed--enigmatically.
"I am handicapped," he remarked, "with principles. Besides, imagine the horror with which your old-fashioned Conservatives would regard my social schemes. It is impossible."
"I hope to convince you," Lord Sydenham said earnestly, "that it is nothing of the sort. In the first place, I want you to remember that during the last ten years a marvelous change has transformed the relative positions of the two great political parties. The advent of the Liberal Unionists into our ranks was the consummation of what was fast becoming inevitable. To-day it is the Conservative party who are the party of progress. It is the party to which you must naturally belong."
"In the event of your refusal, let me ask you seriously whether you realize what you are doing. You have rare gifts--you have all the qualities of the successful politician. I offer you a firm footing upon the ladder--your ascent is a certainty. I will not appeal to your personal ambition. I appeal to your religion."
Strone looked up with a queer smile.
"My religion?"
"Yes! I use the word in the broadest sense. Consciously or unconsciously, you have proclaimed it in your conversation--the House--the reviews. If you are not one of those who love their fellow-men, you, at least, have a pity for them so profound that it has become the _motif_ of your life. It is a great cause, yours, Strone. You have made it your own. None but you can do it justice.
Think of the submerged millions who have been waiting many years for a prophet to call them up from the depths. You have put on the mantle.
Dare you cast it away?"
"Never in your life," he said, "will there come to you such an opportunity as this. I offer you a place in the party which will be in the majority next session--the lawmakers. I offer you also my own personal support of the Labor measures we have discussed. It must be yes or no by to-morrow."
When Strone let himself into his house a few moments later the room on the ground floor was almost in total darkness.
"Milly!"
No answer. Yet she was in the room, for he could hear her heavy breathing and trace the dim outline of her form upon the sofa. An ugly suspicion seized him. He turned up the gas and groaned.
An empty tumbler lay on the ground beside her. Strone bent over her.
This was the woman to whom he was chained for all his days, whom he had pledged himself to love and cherish, the woman who bore his name, and who must rise with him to whatever heights his ambition and genius might command. There was no escape--there never could be any escape.
He walked restlessly up and down the room. The woman slept on.
Presently he saw that she had been writing--a proceeding so unusual that he came to a standstill before the table. An envelope and a letter lay open there; the first words of the latter, easily legible in Milly"s round characters, startled him. He glanced at the address.
It was to Mr. Richard Mason, Fairbanks, Gascester. Without any further hesitation, he took the letter into his hand and read it.
"Dear d.i.c.k: The last time I saw you I turned you out of this house because you asked me something as you didn"t ought. I am writing these few lines to know if you are still in the same mind. I don"t want you to make a mistake. I don"t care one bra.s.s b.u.t.ton for you--never shall.
But things have turned out so that I ain"t happy here. I never ought to have married Enoch, that"s sure. He ain"t the same cla.s.s as you and me. He don"t care for me, and he never will. That"s why I reckon I"m going to leave him. Now if you want me to go to Ireland with you next journey, say so, and I"ll go. If I try to live here any longer, I shall go mad. You ain"t to think that it"s because I like you better than him, because I don"t, and no born woman in her right sense would.
What I"m looking at is, that if I go away with you, he"ll be free.
That"s all. There"s no other way that I can think of, except for me to do away with myself and that I dursn"t do. So if you say come, I shall be ready. Yours, Milly."
The sheet of paper fluttered from his fingers. He turned to find her sitting up--watching him.
"You"ve been reading my letter," she cried, with a little gasp.
"Yes," he answered. "I have read it."
She stared at him, heavy-eyed, still dull of apprehension. There was a short silence. She struggled into a sitting posture; by degrees her memory and consciousness returned.
"I don"t care if you have," she declared. "Put it in the envelope and post it. It would have been on the way now if Mary hadn"t brought in the whisky. It"s what you want, ain"t it? You"ll be quit of me then, and you can go to her."
He tore the letter across and flung it into the fire. She watched it burn idly.
"I don"t know why you"ve done that," she said wearily. "You know you want to be free. I don"t know as I blame you. I saw you with her to-night."
"What do you mean?" he asked quickly.
"Just that. I took Mary to the St. James", and coming back we stopped to watch the people driving by. She"s very beautiful, Enoch, and she"s your sort. I ain"t."
There was a silence. Their eyes met, and the hopeless misery in her face went to his heart like a knife. In that moment he realized how only salvation could come to her. He saw her suddenly with a great pity and beyond her all the great underneath millions he wanted to help. The moment was like a flash of light. He crossed the room and sat down by her side.
"Milly," he said gently, "let us try and talk like sensible people. I am afraid I haven"t been a very good husband to you, and this sort of thing"--he touched the decanter--"has got to be stopped. Now tell me how we are to turn over a new leaf. What would you like to do?"
She drew a little breath which became a sob.
"It"s me," she exclaimed pa.s.sionately. "I"m a beast. I ain"t fit to be your wife, Enoch. Let me go my way. I"ll never interfere with you.
You"ve been too good to me already. You can"t care for me! Why should you?"
He took her hand in his.
"Milly," he said, "we are husband and wife, and we"ve got to make the best of it. Now I want you to promise to give up that stuff, and, in return, I will do anything you ask."
"Then care for me a little," she cried; "or if you can"t, pretend to.
If you"d only kiss me now and then without me asking, act as though I were flesh and blood--treat me as a woman instead of a ghost--I"d be easily satisfied! Can"t you pretend just a little, Enoch? Maybe you won"t mean it a bit--I don"t care. I"d close my eyes and think it was all real."
Her voice broke down, her eyes were wet and shining with tears. He kissed her on the lips.