"I was waiting until you were safe in your own room," was the reply.
"What has kept you so long?"
"I must go back again," I returned quickly; "she is not fit to be left alone. I am not afraid of her now, Mr. Hamilton: she can do me no harm.
Please do not watch any longer."
"You were ill: have you forgotten that? I ought not to allow you to make yourself worse. Why," with a sort of impatience visible in his manner, "need you be troubled about our miserable affairs?"
"Let me go back for a little while," I pleaded; for I knew if he ordered me into my own room I should be obliged to obey him. "It keeps her in check, seeing me there: she is so exhausted that she must sleep soon; and then I will lie down." I suppose he thought there was no help for it, for he drew back for me to pa.s.s; but I was grieved to hear his footsteps for a long time after that pacing slowly up and down, and it was more for his sake than my own that I was glad when Miss Darrell"s moans ceased, and the more quiet regular breathing proved to me that she was asleep.
The pa.s.sage was empty when I came out, and the first faint streak of dawn was visible. It was too late then to think of going to bed. I lay down, dressed as I was, and slept for a couple of hours; then the sunshine woke me, and I got up and took my bath and felt refreshed.
Chatty brought me my tea early, and told me that Mr. Hamilton was walking in the garden. "And do you know, ma"am," observed the girl breathlessly, "something strange must have happened since last evening; for when I looked out of my window before six this morning I saw master standing before the door, and there was Leah, in her bonnet, speaking to him, and she went off with Pierson, wheeling off her boxes on his truck. I do believe she has really gone, ma"am, and not a creature in the house knows it."
"Never mind: it is not our business, Chatty; but I think I will go and speak to your master when I have finished my tea."
"I was to give you a message, ma"am,--that he would be glad if you could join him in the garden as soon as you were up, as he had to go some distance, and he wanted to tell you about it." I put down my cup at once when I heard this, and hurried out into the garden.
Mr. Hamilton was pacing up and down the asphalt walk as he had paced the pa.s.sage last night. He did not quicken his steps when he saw me, but walked towards me slowly, with the gait of a man who has a load on his mind.
"I hardly expected you so early. Have you had any rest at all?" looking at me rather anxiously.
"Yes, thank you; I have slept for two hours. But you have not, Mr.
Hamilton"; for he was looking wretchedly worn and ill.
"Was it likely that I could sleep?" he returned impatiently. "But I have no time to waste. Atkinson will be round here directly with the dog-cart.
I am going off to Liverpool by the 12.10 train."
"To Liverpool?" in unfeigned surprise.
"Yes; I have been thinking all night what is to be done about my unfortunate cousin. She is dependent on me, and I cannot send her away without finding her a home. That home," pausing as though to give emphasis to his words, "can never be under my roof again."
"I suppose not."
"The sin is of too black a dye for me to bring myself to forgive her. If I were to say that I forgive her I should lie." And here his face became dark again. "She has disgraced that poor boy Eric, and driven him away from his home; she has made Gladys"s life wretched: her whole existence must have been a tissue of deceit and treachery. How could I sleep when I was trying to disentangle this mesh of deception and lies? how do I know when she has been true or when wholly false?"
"I fear there has been little truth spoken to you, Mr. Hamilton." I was thinking of Gladys when I said that, but something in my words seemed to strike him.
"Is there anything else I ought to know? But no, I have no time for that: I must try and make some arrangements at once: she cannot break bread with us again. The people I want to find are old patients of mine. I was able to serve them once: I feel as though I have a claim on them."
"But you will be back soon?" for I could not bear him to leave us alone.
"To-morrow morning. I will take the night train up, but I shall be detained in London. Take care of Gladys for me, Miss Garston. Do not tell her more than you think necessary. Do not let Etta see her, if you can help it; but I know you will act for the best." Then, as he looked at me, his face softened for a moment. "I wish I had not to leave you; but you could send for Mr. Cunliffe."
"Oh, there will be no need for that," I returned hastily, for the thought of the wretched woman upstairs would prevent me from sending for Uncle Max. "Come back as quickly as you can, and I will do my best for Gladys."
"I know it. I can trust you," he replied, very gently. "Take care of yourself also." Then, as the wheels of the dog-cart sounded on the gravel, he held out his hand to me gravely, and then turned away. A moment afterwards I heard his voice speaking to Atkinson, and as I entered the shrubbery Pierson was fastening the gate after them.
CHAPTER XLV
"THIS HOME IS YOURS NO LONGER"
There are long gray days in every one"s life.
I think that day was the longest that I ever spent: it seemed as though the morning would never merge into afternoon, or the afternoon into evening. Of the night I could not judge, for I slept as only weary youth can sleep.
Sheer humanity, the mere instinct of womankind, had obliged me to watch by Miss Darrell through the previous night: for some hours her hysterical state had bordered on frenzy. I knew sleep was the best restorative in such cases: she would wake quieter. There would be no actual need for my services, and unless she sent for me I thought it better to leave her alone: she was only suffering the penalty of her own sin, the shame of detected guilt. There was no sign of real penitence to give me hope for the future.
I found Gladys awake when I returned from the garden: in spite of my anxiety, it gave me intense pleasure to hear her greeting words.
"Oh, Ursula, come and kiss me; it is good morning indeed. I woke so happy; everything is so lovely,--the sunshine, and the birds, and the flowers!" And, with a smile, "I wished somebody could have seen--"my thoughts of Max."" And then, still holding me fast, "I do not forget my poor boy, in spite of my happiness, but something tells me that Eric will soon come back."
"He might have been here now," I grumbled, "if you had allowed me to tell your brother"; for those few reproachful words haunted me.
"Yes, dear; I know I was wrong," she answered, with sweet candour. "Giles is so kind now that I cannot think why I was so reserved with him; but of course," flushing a little, "I was afraid of Etta."
"I suppose that was the reason," I returned, busying myself about the room; for I did not care to pursue the subject. Mr. Hamilton"s few words had convinced me that he thought it would be wiser to leave Gladys in ignorance of what was going on until Miss Darrell was out of the house.
She had borne so much, and was still weak and unfit for any great excitement. My great fear was lest Miss Darrell should force her way into Gladys"s presence and disturb her by a scene; and this fear kept me anxious and uneasy all day.
Gladys was a trifle restless; she wanted a drive again, and when I made her brother"s absence a pretext for refusing this, she pleaded for a stroll in the garden. It was with great difficulty that I at last induced her to remain quietly in her room. But when she saw that I was really serious she gave up her wishes very sweetly, and consoled herself by writing to Max, in answer to a letter that he had sent under cover to me.
It was nearly noon before Chatty brought me a message that Miss Darrell was just up and dressed, and wished to speak to me; and I went at once to her.
The usually luxurious room had an untidy and forlorn aspect. The crumpled Indian dressing-gown and the breakfast-tray littered the couch; ornaments, jewellery, and brushes strewed the dressing-table. Miss Darrell was sitting in an easy-chair by the open window. She did not move or glance as I entered in the full light. She looked pinched and old and plain. Her eyelids were swollen; her complexion had a yellowish whiteness; as I stood opposite to her, I could see gray hairs in the smooth dark head; before many years were over Miss Darrell would look an old woman. I could not help wondering, as I looked at her, how any one could have called her handsome.
"Chatty says Leah has gone," she said, in a voice fretful with misery.
"I told her that that was too good news to be true. Is it true, Miss Garston?"
"Yes; she has gone."
"I am glad of it," with a vixenish sharpness that surprised me. "I hated that woman, and yet I was afraid of her too: she got me in her toils, and then I was helpless. Where has Giles gone, Miss Garston? Chatty said he went off in a dog-cart with his portmanteau."
How I wished Chatty would hold her tongue sometimes! but most likely Miss Darrell had questioned her.
"Mr. Hamilton"s business is not our affair," I returned coldly.
"That means I am not to ask; but all the same you are in his secret,"
with one of her old sneers. "Will he be back to-night?"
"No, not to-night; to-morrow morning early."
"That is all I want to know, Miss Garston," hesitating a little nervously. "I have never liked you, but all the same I have not injured you."
"Have you not, Miss Darrell?"