This it was which brought him to Hertford House, and suggested to him a totally new idea--an idea so brilliant, and yet so horrible, that it attracted and repelled him both at once. The shock of the sight of Virginia the younger was so great as partially to unnerve him. Her daughter! He had never thought about her children, except when the death of her son and heir, by means of the motor accident, had appeared in the paper, and he had been glad.
Now here was something like a resurrection of the Virginia of twenty years ago. He contemplated her, considered her, appraised her. The whole appearance of her was to him the top-note of luxury, extravagance, affectation. Long residence in the country, avoidance of women, had made him unaccustomed to the growing call for elaborate taste in feminine attire. He had never seen anything like the slim perfection of Virginia. He listened while girl-like she prattled of the costumes of the pictured women on the walls. He heard her wonder gravely whether she could wear rose-colour and contrast her own style with that of her friend!
She stood, to the man who glowered upon her, for the incarnation of a type. She was the temptress woman, who would, as her mother had done, enslave and then forsake. Could he prevent the life-long unhappiness of some unfortunate man, by exerting his own will, his own wealth to get the siren into his power?
He marked the arrival of Gerald Rosenberg. His faculties, sharpened to the point of brilliance by his own keen personal hatred, discerned the situation between the two young people. Upon the upshot of it depended all his own plans. If Gerald hesitated--if he took time for reflection--then Gaunt would have a chance to carry out a scheme of retribution more complete than anything of which he had yet dreamed. In his pocket was a letter from his old love--a letter which he described to himself as loathsome. It told him, practically, that she was his for the asking. What a buffet in the face for her, if he should propose for her daughter! And what a hold upon the entire family if he could catch the mercenary young adventuress, and keep her caged, and mould her to his will!
And it had all happened so marvellously according to his plan.
He succeeded not merely as well as he hoped, but far more easily. He was met more than half-way, both by mother and daughter. Gerald Rosenberg had evidently hung fire. The dressed-up doll which looked so fair and innocent was ready to consent to the sale of herself--to the shameful bargain which he had proposed. So he had taken her hand--led her into the steel jaws of his trap. It had closed upon her, and she lay at the bottom, lacerated, helpless, awaiting the moment when her captor should come and devour her.
He felt as might a hunter, who, having laid a snare for a man-eating tigress, comes creeping through the woods at dawn, and finds the pit occupied by a strayed lamb.
From the moment of reading the two letters which yesterday had pa.s.sed between the sisters, he knew that his weapon had broken in his hand.
The dreadful thing was that, having made captive this helpless creature, towards whom his ill-will was no longer active, he was unable to release her.
And what could he do with her?
He had saddled himself for life with a female companion, of whom he had no need at all. What satisfaction could be derived from a.s.serting his mastery over one so weak, so submissive, so--so confoundedly childish?
As to making friends with her, the prospects of that were not encouraging. His treatment of her yesterday must have made a deep impression. Besides, he felt within himself no hankering at all after a _rapprochement_. Since his wife could not feed his hate, nor satisfy his vengeance, he had, quite frankly, no use for her.
Yet she was there. What was he to do with her?
As the endless complications--the annoying changes to be wrought in his life by the introduction of such trying persons as Joey Ferris into his. .h.i.therto unmolested retreat--as all this swept over him, he realised that he had overshot his mark and landed himself in unforeseen difficulties and vexations. Some gratifications still remained--for instance, the prospect of reading and of answering his mother-in-law"s first letter, appealing for more money! Ah, that still lay in the future, along with her inevitable suggestion that she should come for a "nice long visit" to Omberleigh, and his blunt refusal of her company!
In her, at least, he had not been mistaken. It was only in the case of this artless, babyish creature upstairs that he had made such an a.s.s of himself.
Shrugging his shoulders, he turned slowly away from the doorway, and betook himself to his study. There he sat down and wrote a message.
_The doctor tells me you need rest, and should be left quite quiet.
That being so, I feel sure that I had better keep away altogether. But there is something I have to say, so will you, for the sake of appearances, grant me a few minutes" conversation this afternoon.
Choose your own time.--O. G._
CHAPTER XIV
INSTANTANEOUS CONVERSION
"_I was a moody comrade to her then, For all the love I bore her....
... This had come to be A game to play, a love to clasp, a hate To wreak, all things together that a man Needs for his blood to ripen....
... In those hours no doubt To the young girl, my eyes were like my soul,-- Dark wells of death-in-life that yearned for day._"-- --D. G. Rossetti.
A pencil note was brought downstairs to the master by Grover, who wore a demure look, as though she guessed how novel and charming a pastime to the woman-hater was this playful exchange of love-letters.
He was seated at the lunch-table when the little envelope was handed to him, and a surly self-consciousness kept him from opening it until Hemming had retired, which conduct on his part caused amused nudgings between the servants outside.
_Please come to tea at four._--Virginia.
Such was the extent of the "love-letter" when he had opened it.
He shrugged his shoulders. He did not want to have tea with her in the least. However, it would have a good effect upon the household--keep up the fiction of their mutual desire for each other"s society.
At a few minutes after four, he knocked at her door. Grover had just arranged the tea-table close to the bed, and was putting away one or two things before leaving the room. Virginia blushed brightly as her jailer entered, but gave him a timid smile of welcome. She told Grover, with whom she was evidently on the best of terms already, to set a chair for him, directed the closing of one window, lest there be too much draught; and so did the honours until the maid, benevolently smiling, had disappeared.
The bride knew that even a minute"s hesitation would make her too nervous to speak, so she said at once: "It was kind of you to send for the doctor, but indeed there was no need. I shall be well in a very few days. I feel rested already."
"That"s right," he said briefly. "Proper treatment will bring you round sooner, I expect."
"I like Dr. Dymock," she said timidly.
"He"s not a bad sort."
A silence ensued. How difficult it was to find things to say. Virginia made another effort. "Grover is so kind, she waits on me hand and foot!"
"It"s her work to wait on you. What she"s paid for. I don"t know why you should call her kind."
"Don"t you know," she asked earnestly, "the difference between the work you can pay for and the work you can"t? Oh, but I am sure you must."
He grunted. Evidently he was not interested, but bored. She offered him more tea, and refrained from further efforts at talk, remembering his sneer at her "prattle."
They were too utterly out of sympathy for her to have any idea of how best to approach him.
He drank his second cup of tea in silence, his gaze travelling over the room, over the dressing-table with its dainty appointments, over the white silk kimono, embroidered in faintly coloured flowers, which his bride wore. The loose sleeve revealed the thinness of her arm and wrist, which her dresses had formerly more or less concealed. On her white flesh he remarked a row of round purple marks. Had she rubbed her arm on something dirty? What could have caused those stains? They looked like finger-marks. The memory of yesterday--of their tussle, and his s.n.a.t.c.hing of the letter from her desperate grip--came suddenly to him.
Could it be true that he, Osbert Gaunt, with the upbringing and traditions of a gentleman, had left the marks of his hands upon a fragile girl? Self-disgust turned him for a moment almost sick.
Yet he would say what he had come to say. He cleared his throat.
"The doctor suggested to me that he should send our neighbour, Mrs.
Ferris, to call upon you in a day or two. I don"t suppose you will like her much, but she is about the only person available. She is one of nature"s mistakes--daughter of a colonel, and ought to have worked in a factory. However, they tell me she is a good sort. She has a motor, and would take you for a spin. I want you to understand that, if you go out with her, it is only on conditions--that it would be of no use for you to attempt to escape."
Virgie was so surprised that she dropped the sugar-tongs. "To escape!"
"From me."
"I don"t understand----"
"I think you do. If Mrs. Ferris motors you to any place where there is a railway station you might be tempted to take the train and go off. I ought to tell you that if you do, I shall bring you back."
"You suppose that I should--that I should let Mrs. Ferris into the secret of my--of your--of our----"