Now Gerard Buckland, although he was very much in love, was not a fool.
And it was not necessary to consider very deeply the facts connected
with the brilliant Rachel Davison’s existence to feel quite certain
that, however handsome and however attractive she might be, it was the
height of folly to lose one’s heart to a woman of whom so much to her
disadvantage was known to him.
Look at the incidents of the day in whatever way he might, it was
impossible to escape from the conclusion that Miss Davison’s share in
them was one inconsistent with that innocence which, as she herself
acknowledged, was not one of her most conspicuous qualities.
That was the worst of it, that she did not deny the mystery about her,
but challenged him to find it out if he could. She said in effect that
she chose to go her own way, that her way was one of which he would not
approve, and that she did not care what he thought. She meant to follow
her own inclination, and she was tired of his pursuit, and desired him
to leave her alone for the future.
He on his side had made no pretense of hiding the fact that he did not
mean to do so, and while more bewildered than ever by what he had seen
and heard that day, he maintained his determination to try every means
in his power to get at the root of the mystery, and to find out the
secret which was poisoning her life.
For that Rachel was unhappy he was sure. He remembered her face as he
had first seen it a year ago at the Aldingtons’ house, how bright her
eyes were, how ringing her voice was. Now, although she was handsomer
than ever in his eyes, with that sort of suggestion of thought and care
underlying her beauty, which made it pathetic and haunting, now that
the outline of her face had sharpened and grown more refined than ever,
there was a look in her face which had never been in it before, a sort
of defiant expression, as if she had made up her mind to a certain
distasteful course of action, and meant to persevere in it in spite of
everything.
Gerard was aware that this view of the change in the beauty might be a
somewhat fanciful one; but fancy is generally very busy in the brain
of a young man in love, and that he was still in love with Rachel
Davison in the face of all he knew and all that he suspected, he had to
acknowledge.
Was she a thief? That he would not believe. Was she a kleptomaniac?
That was even more difficult to admit, since it was plain that, if
kleptomania were a disease, it could not pay, whereas the occupation
followed by Rachel certainly appeared to pay very well.
If she had really been the heroine of the scene at the stores that
day, she must, he knew, have found someone ready to stand by her, and
to tell some story which found acceptance in the eyes of the persons
concerned in the charge, and saved her from prosecution.
For it was impossible to believe that, worried and worn out as she was
when he left her, she would not have been infinitely more distressed if
she had known that a police prosecution was hanging over her.
Who was the man who had beckoned her out of the tea-shop, who had
accompanied her to the police-station, and put her into the cab
afterwards?
That was the one question, Gerard felt, upon which the whole mystery
hinged. And he was conscious, absurd as he felt the sensation to be,
that he was not only curious concerning that important personage, but
actually jealous of him.
Was she in the power of some man who exercised over her an overwhelming
and sinister influence? Was she under the power of hypnotic suggestion?
He could not but feel sure that the man he had so dimly seen would
prove to have an important bearing upon the matter, and made up his
mind that, at all hazards, he would find out who he was.
If it should prove to be the case that she herself was only a more or
less helpless instrument in the hands of a designing and unscrupulous
man, then he felt that her position instead of being a guilty and
infamous one, was pitiful in the extreme.
But the weak point in this argument was the fact that Miss Davison
seemed to be, of all persons in the world, the least likely to be
made a victim in the way suggested. While essentially feminine, she
was high-spirited, active-minded, full of resolution and initiative,
and wholly unlike the gentle, meek, lymphatic people who are the most
readily subjected to such experiments.
But then he had heard that highly strung nervous temperaments are also
among the subjects of experiments of one mind upon another; and whether
Miss Davison could be made submissive to the will of another depended
upon the strength of will in the person who obtained an influence over
her.
This, then, was now Gerard’s chief object: to find out and learn all he
could about the mysterious man.
If the girl had been, by artful plans, entrapped into acting as one
of a gang of expert thieves--and, horrible as this suggestion was,
Gerard felt that it was one that had to be entertained--then it was the
leader of the gang for whom he must look. And it was scarcely likely
that this leader should have trusted himself inside the police-station.
He thought, therefore, that he might dismiss the notion that the
well-dressed, young-looking man whom he had but half seen, could be
the inspirer and fountain-head of the organization, if organization
there were. Rather, Gerard thought, would he be a man set to act as a
scout and spy, and to divert suspicion from his companions by posing as
a friend who could answer for their character.
Gerard, true to his resolution not to let the matter drop, set about
devising an excuse for calling upon Lady Jennings the very next day;
but he was saved that trouble, for on the following morning he found
on his breakfast-table a note from the old lady asking him to luncheon
that day.
Delighted at this opportunity of seeing Rachel again, Gerard duly
presented himself at a quarter past one at the pretty little house,
where he found Lady Jennings by herself in the drawing-room.
She was not looking her usual serene self, but was flushed and
irritable, although she greeted the young man with the kindness she had
always shown him.
Gerard soon ventured to ask whether Lilian had gone back to school the
previous night, and Lady Jennings frowned, though not ill-temperedly.
“No; I kept her here till this morning, and took her back myself as
far as the station,” she said. “She was in great distress, poor child,
because her sister had been angry with her for coming. But of course
she was quite right to come,” added the old lady tartly.
“Yes, and it was Miss Graham who sent her, I understand?”
“Yes. Rachel has no right to be angry about it, but she is an odd girl,
and full of caprices. I wish to know where you met her last night.
I saw that you came back in the cab with her, but I cannot find out
from her where she had been or what she had been doing. Now I quite
understand that she is free to go about by herself, and to transact her
business without interference; but as she is living in my house, and
I feel, as it were, answerable for her, I think she ought to show me
a little more consideration than she does, and that my curiosity when
she misses the dinner-hour and has no very clear explanation to give
is only natural. She says she was detained by business, and then she
leaves her cloak in a tea-shop, and presently she returns home with
you. So that you must have met her twice yesterday, Mr. Buckland, and
can, I hope, satisfy what I am sure you will not think idle curiosity.”
The old lady, having talked herself out of breath while Gerard was thus
given an opportunity of considering a diplomatic reply, sat back and
paused, looking at him with pursed-up lips, which he took as a sort of
warning that she expected a straightforward and full answer.
He did not want to tell too much, or to put her on the track of
Rachel’s real movements by saying that he had met her at the stores.
But at the same time he felt that he might make worse mischief if he
were to say something which Rachel herself would contradict.
So he said diplomatically--
“I met her casually, in the first place, near enough to a tea-shop in
Westminster for us to go straight in there, as she looked tired.”
“Westminster!” echoed Lady Jennings dryly, and he felt that he had
probably “put his foot in it” already. “What was she doing there, I
wonder? And where”--she turned upon him suddenly--“did you meet her the
second time?”
What on earth was he to say? The truth was not to be thought of.
He certainly could not tell her that he saw Rachel going into a
police-station.
She perceived his hesitancy and spoke sharply--
“Of course, if it’s a secret, I have no business to ask, I suppose.”
“You have every right, Lady Jennings, to know all about Miss Davison’s
movements,” answered he frankly; “but as I feel that you are asking me
questions to which she herself has given you an insufficient answer,
I feel, don’t you see, as if I would rather not say more than this:
that I met her not far from where I had left her before, and that I
understood she had been detained on business connected with her work.”
He felt, as he said this, that he wished it were not so true as he
feared it was.
Lady Jennings half smiled. She approved of his attitude, but remained
unsatisfied with that of her protégé.
“She works too hard,” said Gerard suddenly after a silence. “I have
noticed a great change in her looks. Her face now has a worried
expression. I think she wants a long rest, and I wish she could take
it; but I suppose while she is earning so much it’s impossible.”
The old lady turned upon him with a strange look.
“Yes, I suppose she does earn a great deal,” she said rather dryly.
“She seems to spend a great deal, at any rate.”
“Yes. If she supports her mother and sister,” said Gerard valiantly.
But the old lady shrugged her shoulders.
“Oh, one may make too much of that,” she said quickly. “She spends
money on herself too. She dresses magnificently. It wouldn’t have been
thought proper when I was young, for an unmarried girl to spend so much
on her clothes. However, things are altered now, I suppose!”
“She dresses in excellent taste,” observed Gerard.
“Oh yes. You take a great interest in Rachel, Mr. Buckland?”
The words were a challenge, and Gerard took it up promptly.
“Greater than I have ever in my life taken in a woman before,” said he.
She shrugged her shoulders slightly.
“If I took an interest in any man who was in want of a wife,” said she,
“and who thought of looking in this direction, I should recommend him
to choose the younger sister rather than the elder. Of course she’s
very young, but she’s a sweet girl, and if she has less character, what
she has is more amiable than her sister’s.”
Lady Jennings spoke with as much ill-nature as it was in her to show,
though that was not very much. Gerard, however, took fire and made a
brave stand for his own choice.
“Miss Lilian is a lovely girl,” he said, “but pretty and charming as
she is, I confess that a woman of more character has still greater
charm for me. Now Miss Rachel has not only her beauty, but she has
something besides, some soul, some capacity for deep feeling which,
while no doubt it makes her miserable sometimes, makes her interesting
too.”
“She can be miserable no doubt, as well as other people,” said Lady
Jennings rather dryly; “but I think she has probably a still greater
capacity for making others miserable.”
“Certainly she would make a man miserable if he were head over ears in
love with her and she didn’t care for him,” replied Gerard quickly;
“for he would never be likely to find any girl to take exactly the
place she had made for herself in his heart.”
Before he had finished speaking he saw a look on Lady Jennings’ face
which made him glance behind him, and he saw that Rachel herself had
come in quietly while they were talking. It was clear that she had
heard his words and understood them, and her pale face, which was very
grave, lighted up a little.
She shook hands with him, and exerted herself to be lively and
entertaining, and to dispel that slight feeling of resentment towards
her which she knew that her erratic ways had caused her protectress to
feel.
They went downstairs together, and she found an opportunity to ask him
what he had said in answer to the questions about the day before, which
she knew Lady Jennings must have put. She seemed satisfied and even
grateful when he told her, and from that moment her spirits rose, so
that she was the life and soul of the little party at luncheon.
When they rose from the table they all drifted towards the window,
where Lady Jennings kept her little birds in a large aviary cage.
Rachel was still very gay, and Lady Jennings’ resentment had softened
under the influence of the girl’s exertions to amuse her.
Miss Davison was laughing and talking brightly when Gerard suddenly
perceived a strange change in her, the brightness dying out of her eyes
and the color out of her lips.
Glancing out of the window in search of the cause, Gerard saw that a
gentleman of the middle height, erect and of military appearance, with
a snow-white mustache, was passing slowly, and looking up at the window
as he did so; and he knew it was the visitor to Lilian who would not
give his name.