A MOTHER'S AFFECTION.
_Niobe_. From cruel Ph[oe]bus all my children fly.
_Chorus_. Fly then, oh Queen, else will they bring thee harm.
_Niobe_. What evil counsel is upon thy tongue?
_Chorus_. The counsel that would save thee from thyself.
_Niobe_. A mother's love should thus protect her child.
_Chorus_. From such protection cometh death to thee.
_Niobe_. Death will be welcome if it cometh thus
For naught thou knowest of true motherhood
Thinking that fear of death will drive me hence
To leave mine offspring to Ph[oe]bean darts.
The next day was Sunday, and during the night there was a heavy fall
of snow, so the Garsworth folk were not a little astonished, upon
rising in the morning, to find the ground white, and the sky of a
dull, leaden colour. Una had seen the vicar, and, in consequence of
the interview she had with him, had written a letter to Reginald,
which she was enclosing in an envelope when Patience Allerby entered
in order to clear away the breakfast-things. She saw that Una had been
writing to Reginald, and a gleam of interest crossed her stolid face
as she looked eagerly at her mistress. Una guessed her thoughts, and,
knowing the woman's deep interest in Reginald, arising, as she
thought, from the fact of Patience being his nurse, spoke to her on
the subject.
"I am writing to Mr. Blake," she said, closing the envelope, "as I am
anxious for him to return to Garsworth."
"He is all right, is he not, Miss Una?" asked Patience, anxiously.
"Oh, yes, I think so," replied Una, doubtfully, "but I have been
talking with the vicar, and he agrees with me that it is dangerous for
Reginald to be in London."
"Danger--from whom?"
"Mr. Beaumont."
"Mr. Beaumont!" echoed Patience, in a harsh voice. "What has he been
doing to my boy?"
Una looked at her in astonishment, for the whole face of the woman
seemed transformed, and instead of wearing its usual calm expression
it was convulsed with stormy passions. For once the mask had fallen
off, and Una recognized the terrible force of character hidden under
this woman's placid exterior. The housekeeper also felt that she had
betrayed herself and strove to recover her lost ground by an
explanation.
"I beg your pardon, Miss Una, if I speak angrily," she said
feverishly, "but remember I was Mr. Blake's nurse, and he is the only
being I care about in this world--if harm happened to him I would
never forgive myself."
"I hope there is no chance of harm happening to him," replied Una
gently, "but he is in London with Mr. Beaumont, and from what Dr.
Nestley told me about that gentleman I don't think he is a good
companion for Reginald."
"Dr. Nestley," said Patience thoughtfully, "I was not aware Dr.
Nestley had met Mr. Beaumont before."
"Yes, I believe he met him in London," replied Una, and proceeded to
direct the envelope, while Patience thinking over what she had heard
left the room.
When she had finished all her work for the day she retired to her room
in order to think over the conversation. Judging from what Miss
Challoner had told her Beaumont was trying to ruin Reginald, and she
guessed his motive for doing so. Patience was well enough acquainted
with the artist to know that he did nothing without an object, and as
he had placed Blake in receipt of ten thousand a year, she foresaw
that his next step would be to handle it. As he could only do this
through Reginald he was trying to get the boy completely into his
power in order to do what he pleased. As to Dr. Nestley's remarks, he
evidently knew something about Beaumont's former life, and Patience
after some thought came to the decision that she would call upon Dr.
Nestley that afternoon and find out all he knew about him.
Having taken this resolution she put on her things and went out, after
telling Jellicks she would come back again in about two or three
hours.
Outside the snow had ceased to fall, and all the cold tints and
wretched appearance of the landscape were hidden under a pure white
covering. The bare branches of the trees were all laden with powdery
snow, which was shaken down in white flakes at every breath of wind.
The long lines of thorny hedges ran along the white surface in black
lines, and here and there tall, gaunt trees stood up in startling
contrast of colour. Patience, however, saw none of the beauties of
winter, but trudged slowly along the half-obliterated road and thought
of the perils to which Reginald was being exposed by his own father.
Then she crossed the bridge, and, glancing over the side, saw the
leaden-coloured water sweeping drearily between the white banks, the
sloping roof of the church covered with whiteness like an altar
covered by the sacramental cloth; the heavy grey stones of the tower,
and beyond the tall red chimneys of the vicarage, making a cheerful
spot of bright colour against the bluish sky.
She knew that Nestley was stopping at "The House of Good Living," so
went straight there and asked for him, whereupon she was shown into
the parlour, before the fire of which was seated the unhappy young
man, looking more worn out and haggard than ever. He started to his
feet when he saw Patience and stared anxiously at her, speaking the
thought that was uppermost in his mind:
"Is Miss Una ill?" he asked, thinking she had come for his
professional services.
"No, sir," replied Patience sitting down and throwing back her veil,
"Miss Una is quite well--I have come to see you on my own business."
"Are you ill?" he asked wearily, resuming his seat and leaning his
head upon his hand, "what is the matter with you?"
"Nothing at all," she answered coldly. "My health is all right, but I
wish to speak to you about Mr. Beaumont."
Dr. Nestley looked at her in surprise, with a bitter smile on his
lips.
"What, you too?" he said derisively, "are you another of his victims?"
"No--I am not his victim--but, as you know, I am the nurse of Mr.
Blake, who lately succeeded to the property, and as he is now in
London with Mr. Beaumont I want to hear from your own lips what danger
you think there is in such companionship."
"What can I say?"
"Everything; you told Miss Una your story yesterday and she said
something about it to me----"
"Betrayed my confidence?"
"Nothing of the sort, sir, she merely said you did not consider Mr.
Beaumont a good companion for a young man, nothing more--is it true?"
"Perfectly true. I know what Beaumont is from my own experience of
him--he will drag Reginald Blake down to the lowest depths of
degradation."
The woman tightened her thin lips ominously.
"I don't think so if I can help it," she said grimly.
"Then if you can help it--if you have any power over him--take Blake
away from his influence or he will ruin him."
"Are you sure?"
"Sure," he repeated bitterly, "I know it only too well to my own cost,
God help me! Basil Beaumont is a devil, and never rests till he makes
his friends as base as himself. Blake has got money, Beaumont wants
that money, and will let nothing stand in his way to procure it."
"He had better not set himself up against me."
"What do you know about him?"
"More than he cares the world to know."
"Then use that knowledge to keep him away from Garsworth."
"I don't care if he comes to Garsworth as long as he leaves my--my boy
alone."
"Your boy?"
"Reginald Blake--I was his nurse--I will get him to return here, and
if he marries Miss Una I don't think Mr. Beaumont will be able to do
much."
"He'll do this much," cried Nestley quickly, "he'll try and prevent
the marriage."
"Why?" she asked curtly. "For what reason?"
"The best of all reasons--he loves Una Challoner himself."
Patience arose to her feet with a cry, her face turned to a ghastly
pallor.
"You--you--are mad," she gasped, placing her hand on her heart, "it
cannot be true."
"It is true, I tell you," said Nestley in a harsh whisper, coming
close to her. "Una Challoner would not listen to me because she loves
Reginald Blake. Beaumont also loves her and sees Blake is an obstacle
in his path, he will remove that obstacle by fair means or foul--but
remove it he will--he'll obtain such power over Blake that he will get
him to make a will in his favour, then--then--you can guess what will
follow."
"Oh! but it's horrible--horrible--this man would never do such a
thing."
"I know Basil Beaumont--you don't."
"Don't I!" she cried viciously, turning round. "I know him only too
well--I was a good woman once!"
"Ah! I thought you were another victim," said Nestley cynically. "And
what do you propose to do?"
"Do!" she said fiercely. "I will write him a letter and warn him once
and for all--if he refuses to accept the warning I will show him no
mercy--he must give up all thought of Una Challoner--she shall marry
Reginald Blake and none other."
"She will never do that while Beaumont lives--I know she loves Blake,
but Beaumont loves her, and what are those two innocents against his
devilish craftiness?"
"He has got to deal with me as well as with them," she said grandly.
"Sooner than Beaumont shall harm a hair of their heads I will end his
life and his villanies at the same time."
"You would not kill him?"
"I will do what I say--if he does not accept the warning I send him,
his life is in his own hands not mine."
Nestley stood silent with astonishment, while without another word,
Patience swept out of the room, and then only did he recover his power
of speech.
"Ugh!" he said with a shiver. "I believe she will--but no--Beaumont is
a man nothing can harm--devils are sent upon the earth for some
purpose, and he is one."
He crouched down over the fire, the red light of which glared upon his
face, bringing out all the lines and hollows now stamped on it and
making him look very old and grey. Outside, the night was closing in
and he shivered again as the deep voice of the church bell rang
through the keen air.
"It's Sunday," he whispered. "Sunday night--I ought to go to church.
Church!" he repeated with a dreary laugh, "there's no church for
me--between myself and God stands the devil of Drink."