HALF TOLD
The meeting was quite an unexpected one for Ralph. He had his own
powerful reason for not wishing to come in contact with Lady Dashwood,
but the thing was done now, and there was no help for it. Ralph was
the first to recover his self-possession. He saw that the colour was
coming back to Lady Dashwood's face, and that it was very far from her
intentions to make a scene. That would probably come later.
"There seems to be no conveyance here," Mary said. "And really it is
not worth while to make all this fuss about me. I am quite myself
again and capable of walking as far as the dower house with Lady
Dashwood. Meanwhile, there is other work to do."
The excitement of the moment had passed, and willing hands were back
once more at the task of putting out the flames. Of the little group
of principal actors in the scene, nobody was more calm or more
collected now than Lady Dashwood.
"Perhaps we had better walk," she said. "We can take the short cut
through the shrubbery. And I shall be very glad if Mr. Darnley will
accompany us. I presume, sir, that you have not had any breakfast?"
"I haven't," Ralph said. "Sir George has gone over to one of the farms
for his. If you will be so good as to give me a mouthful of something,
I will come back here and do my very utmost to save the old house. It
would be a great pity to lose it."
"Indeed I am glad to hear that you are so anxious about the place,"
Lady Dashwood said with a significance that puzzled Mary, though it
was by no means lost on Ralph. "The Hall is one of the finest places
of its kind in England."
Ralph ate his breakfast in silence; Mary was silent too and pleaded a
headache. She had had no sleep, she said, and was in need of rest. She
ate little and drooped like a lily over her plate. When at length she
rose, Ralph rose also.
"Please don't go yet," said Lady Dashwood in a voice with a touch of
command in it. "I will just see that Mary is made comfortable, and
then I should like to have a word with you, sir. There are so many
willing workers at the Hall that one more or less will make no
difference."
Ralph bowed. Lady Dashwood would be glad if he would go as far as the
drawing-room. He waited there till his hostess returned, proud and
white, with a stern expression in her eyes. She shut the door behind
her and pointed to a seat.
"Pray do not stand," she said. "We may be some little time. Did I not
understand my--Mary, to say that you are Mr. Ralph Darnley?"
"That is quite correct," Ralph said quietly. "Miss Mary made no
mistake."
"Possibly not. The mistake is on your side. I do not wish to seem in
the least curious or impertinent, but have you no other name?"
"For the present, none," said Ralph. "Will not your ladyship oblige me
by leaving matters just as they are for the moment? My happiness, the
happiness of everybody, depends upon a complete and absolute
discretion. I did not desire to see you----"
"No! I gathered that when I saw your face a night or two ago in the
shrubbery. The moon was shining on your features, and it seemed to me
that I was face to face with a ghost. But let me show you something,
Mr. Darnley. It is a miniature of a man whom I have not seen for
nearly forty years, the picture of my son. He left home for reasons
which I need not go into, I never looked on his face again. I have
never before shown the picture to anybody, but I have my very good
reasons for showing it to you. What do you think of it?"
With trembling hands the old lady passed a miniature in a small gold
frame over to Ralph. He gazed at the picture long and intently, with a
flush on his face and something that was very like moisture in his
eyes. He was silent for so long that Lady Dashwood felt constrained to
speak.
"Well?" she asked. "I will try to restrain the natural curiosity of my
sex and not ask too many questions. Did you ever see that face
before?"
"You force me to reply," Ralph said slowly. "You have the advantage
over me, Lady Dashwood."
"Please do not call me Lady Dashwood. Oh, I am not going to try to
force your confidence; that will come to me in time. Only you have not
yet replied to my question. I asked you if ever you have seen that
face before?"
"Many a time and oft," Ralph said. "Is it very like me?"
"Like you! It is a speaking likeness. When I came face to face with
you today, it required all the seventy years of my social training to
keep me from bursting into tears and throwing my arms about your neck.
And nobody recognised you! But I forget that forty years have elapsed
since my boy was in the midst of us. And now tell me, why do you
persist in calling yourself Ralph Darnley?"
"I have never been known by any other name," Ralph replied. "Perhaps
the time may come some day when I--but we need not discuss that.
Please do not think me churlish or wanting in courtesy to you, Lady
Dashwood."
Lady Dashwood shook her head mournfully. Something like tears stood in
her eyes.
"I have no right to ask anything," she said. "I forfeited my right
years ago. But, unless I am greatly mistaken, you could call me by a
sweeter name than Lady Dashwood. My dear boy, I do not wish to pry
into your secrets--you could not act in anything but a straightforward
manner, I am certain. Your face tells me that. Nearly forty years ago
I lost a son like you. How like he was to you I have proved by showing
you that miniature. My son left Dashwood Hall vowing that nobody
should ever see his face again there, and he kept his word. The blame
was mine, and only mine, but I have been terribly punished for my
treachery and deceit."
"I can hardly believe you guilty of those things, Lady Dashwood."
"Oh, but I was. It was the cruellest wrong, and he found me out. From
that day to this I have known no happiness. Why do I talk like this to
a stranger? I think you can guess. When I saw your face in the
cloister the other night it seemed as if God had forgiven my sin and
given my son back to me. Is that so?"
"This is very painful," Ralph stammered. "Will you trust me and be
patient?"
"I can be patient. I have been patient for forty years. And your face
speaks for you. Go on."
"There is little more for me to say," Ralph resumed. "For the present
I can tell you nothing. If the son you speak of came back tomorrow not
a soul would recognise him but you."
"And old Slight," Lady Dashwood said meaningly. "Pray do not forget
him."
"And old Slight. Quite true. And I am the image of the Ralph Dashwood
who left his home nearly forty years ago. There were reasons,
therefore, why I did not desire to meet you, Lady Dashwood, till the
time was ripe. But circumstances were too strong for me; sooner or
later it had been my hope that--that----"
"I begin to understand," Lady Dashwood said as Ralph hesitated. "For
the present you desire to be just Ralph Darnley. But the deception
cannot continue for long."
"For long enough," Ralph smiled. "Let me confide in you to a certain
extent, Lady Dashwood. I am a sentimental man as my father was before
me."
"I know he was," Lady Dashwood said absently. "If he had not been, my
punishment might have been less--but I am assuming too much. Please go
on."
"I am a lonely man. My mother died early, and my father and myself
were thrown a great deal together. We spent most of our time in
California, where the population is not great. You can understand how
it was that I became so retrospective. And when I came to hear of the
mystery that my father had kept till the end, I began to have dreams
of my own. I began to see myself the master of a lovely place, like
Dashwood Hall, for instance. . . . You see that I am speaking from my
heart to you now, and I know that you are going to respect my
confidence and sympathise with me."
"As long as you look at me with those eyes of--yours," Lady Dashwood
murmured. "We are going to be great friends, thank God. But please go
on."
"Well, I had my dreams of the kind of wife who would make my home a
Paradise for me, and two years ago I met her in Paris. She was proud
and reserved and haughty, but all the same I knew that my instincts
had not played me false. The girl likes me--of that I am certain. It
sounds egotistical, but I believe that she loves me without knowing
it. Had I told her of the fine old house and the good old name, there
would have been no obstacles in the way. But I gave the curb to my
inclinations, and my secret remained untold. . . . For nearly two
years I did not see that girl, not till I came down here less than a
week ago. Can you guess who it is?"
"Mary," Lady Dashwood cried. "My dear, dear Mary! And she does not
know, she does not dream--indeed, how should she? You want her to----"
"To care for me, Ralph Darnley. Mary has a terrible curse, her family
pride comes before her duty, and even before her religion. It is the
idol that she has come to worship. Mind, I am by no means blind to the
girl's virtues; I should not love her as I do otherwise. But I want to
break down that family pride, I want to show Mary and prove to her
that it is a mere nothing by the side of love and duty and common
humanity. That is why it is merely Ralph Darnley who speaks to you
today. When Mary owns her love for Ralph Darnley, and holds that love
better than her pride of race, then I can speak. It may be that there
is a hard lesson to be learned first, but I shall not shrink from
that."
"That is how your--my son used to speak," Lady Dashwood murmured. "So
gentle and firm, and yet so kind and considerate! You are going to
make Mary happy despite herself."
"That is my intention," Ralph went on. "Look how she is acting now.
Sir George has come within the grip of a scoundrel. I am alluding to
Horace Mayfield. He has schemed out all this trouble and disaster so
as to get Mary in his power. The girl's senseless pride has been
Mayfield's strongest weapon. You know all about those sheriffs men, of
course. Rather than have a whisper of the trouble spoken, Mary is
ready to marry Horace Mayfield and condemn herself to lifelong misery
and humiliation. It seems almost incredible that a girl should be so
frozen into the ice of her family pride. But Mary is not going to
marry Horace Mayfield, she is destined for me. The lever to remove the
stone from the path is mine, and I shall know how to use it when the
time comes. Already I have so brought it about that Sir George can be
free of Mayfield in the course of a few days, but there is still Mary
to deal with. I do not quite see my way clearly with her, but fate may
play into my hands and find me an instrument which----"
Ralph paused hurriedly, for another man came noisily into the room. He
was rather like Ralph as regards figure and feature and trick of
expression, but his face was effeminate, and his very black eyes a
little shifty and sinister. In dress and manner he had the air of a
gentleman, but at the same time there was a suggestion of loudness and
hardness about him that belied the description. He did not see Ralph,
for he advanced noisily into the room.
"I've been looking for you everywhere," he said. "Why are you hiding
here, old lady?"