Sir William Heath Returns To America.
"I cannot understand it, Miriam. It is the strangest thing in the world, and I shall sail for America on the very next steamer."
It was Sir William Heath who spoke thus, and there was no mistaking the decision in his voice.
He was sitting at the breakfast-table in the large, sunny dining-room at Heathdale, while the open and empty mail-bag lay upon the table beside him.
There were several letters scattered around his plate, but these were unheeded, while the anxious, perplexed look on the baronet"s fine face told that he was deeply troubled about something.
Lady Linton sat opposite him, and she had been furtively watching him during his examination of the bag. There were two very bright spots upon her cheeks, which might have been caused by her morning drive to the post-office; or they might have been produced by a guilty conscience and anxiety regarding her brother"s announcement.
"Then there is no letter for you this morning?" she remarked, trying to appear unconcerned.
"No; and I am nearly wild with anxiety. I must go to Virgie at once,"
Sir William responded, moodily.
"I do not know how mamma will bear the thought of your going," Lady Linton said, looking grave.
"It cannot harm her. Sir Herbert says she is doing very well, and I might have gone last week but for the severe cold which she took. I must go, Miriam. My wife is more to me than all the world, and this unaccountable silence and suspense is unbearable. I am afraid something dreadful has happened to her, for, just think, I have not heard one word from her since she wrote me after the birth of our little one."
"Why don"t you cable, then? I am going in town this morning, and I will send a message for you, if you wish," craftily suggested his sister, who felt very uncomfortable at the thought of his starting off so suddenly: for he might meet his wife just at the very moment when success was about to crown her plans.
She had heard from Mrs. Farnum only once since her coup d"etat, when she had given an account of that last interview with the heart-broken wife.
The letter had been posted that same day, for the woman had not hoped that Virgie would leave the house so quickly, even though she knew she was going to be asked to do so; and as she knew her friend would be anxious to learn the result of her last measure, and as a steamer was to sail the next morning, she had written immediately.
"I suppose you might cable and get a reply before a steamer sails,"
murmured Sir William, thoughtfully. "It does not seem as if I could wait even the time it would take for me to get to her."
"I suppose you are very anxious. It is natural that you should be,"
responded Lady Linton, as she broke an egg into her cup and busied herself seasoning it, although she did not even taste it after it was prepared.
Excitement and anxiety had destroyed her appet.i.te.
Two or three times every week, of late, there had been just such a scene as this when the mail came in after the arrival of a steamer.
No letters came from Virgie. At least, he received none; for they were all cunningly abstracted before the bag came into the house, and Sir William did not dream that any one possessed a key to it save himself, and so, of course was unsuspicious of any plot.
It was simply unaccountable to him, and he was, as he said, almost wild from anxiety on account of his dear ones.
He could not touch his food this morning, his disappointment was so great, and he nervously unfolded his paper and began to look for an announcement of the sailing of some steamer.
"The Cephalonia will sail on Sat.u.r.day," he remarked, at length. "This is Wednesday. I shall leave on Friday for Liverpool. You can break the news to my mother, and I am sure you will do very well without me until my return. She must strive to be reasonable, for I cannot live like this another week."
"Very well; I will do my best to keep her cheerful while you are gone,"
returned Lady Linton, trying to appear at ease, although she was quaking in mortal fear lest all her plotting should come to naught.
She sometimes regretted having written that last letter and sent that hundred pounds to Virgie. She began to fear that she might have overreached herself by so doing, for, if her brother and his wife should meet, Virgie would of course tell her husband everything, and he would at once understand that his sister had been guilty of all the mischief--intercepted letters, and all. She knew that he would never forgive her; she would be ignominiously banished from Heathdale, and be obliged to hide herself at Linton Grange, where she would lead a life of poverty and seclusion; so it is not strange that she trembled at the thought of Sir William sailing for America.
"Shall you return at once?" she asked, as they arose from the table.
"Just as soon as I can possibly arrange to do so; and, Miriam, I want no pains spared to make the home-coming of my wife an agreeable one."
"You shall be obeyed," Lady Linton replied, with downcast eyes and a heavily throbbing heart; "but of course you will let me know when to expect you."
"Certainly; and the suite of rooms over the library are to be put in order for Virgie."
"Very well; I will speak to the housekeeper about it."
"You will mention, too, for whom they are being prepared," Sir William said, glancing sharply at his sister. "It must be known at once that I have a wife and child. I have made a great mistake in allowing you to persuade me to keep silence upon the subject so long."
"But it was for mamma"s sake, you know; while she was so ill it was better not to have it talked about," apologized Lady Linton; but she mentally resolved that she should be in no hurry to tell the secret, even if he had ordered her to do so, at least until she was sure her brother would find his wife.
Something might prevent his bringing Virgie home, and in that case a scandal would be avoided if she kept silence. She would wait, at least, until he notified her of the date of his return.
"It was a mistake, I tell you," Sir William repeated, with a clouded brow. "It has been a mark of disloyalty to my wife which I will tolerate no longer. So please do as I request."
Lady Linton bowed.
"Shall I cable for you?" she asked, after a moment of silence. "I shall be in London most of the day, and perhaps I may be able to get a reply to bring you on my return."
"No, thanks; I, too, shall go in town to-day, to engage my pa.s.sage, and I will attend to the matter myself," Sir William replied, and the heart of the schemer sank within her.
She had intended to cable to Mrs. Farnum, and, if Virgie was still at the hotel, authorize her to use any strategy to get her away before her brother should arrive, and then send her a dispatch to suit the emergency.
But, if he cabled himself, and received an answer from his wife, she had the very worst to fear for herself.
They went up to London on the same train, and Lady Linton suffered agonies during that ride, and all day long, while she was shopping, her suspense was terrible to her.
But when she entered the station, late in the afternoon, to return to Heathdale, she was both startled and relieved to find her brother already there, and pacing back and forth outside the waiting-room in great excitement.
"Have you news, William?" she faltered, her heart beating almost to suffocation.
"Yes," he answered, in a strained unnatural tone. "Here, read this!" and he thrust a cablegram into her trembling hands.
She had hardly strength to unfold the paper, but her pulses bounded with exultation as she read:
New York, Aug. 10, 18--.
"To Sir William Heath, London:
"Lady Heath left the ------- House on the 2d instant. Do not know her address.
Eldred Edlbridge."
Mr. Eldridge, as we know, was the proprietor of the hotel where Virgie had been boarding during her husband"s absence, and we can imagine something of his consternation when he received Sir William"s cable dispatch inquiring for his wife, and realized, all too late, the enormity of the insult he had offered to that lady.
Lady Linton, however, had hard work to conceal her joy over the contents of the message.