TO A POINT.
GWENDOLINE'S resolution was quickly taken. A plan of action flashed
into her mind, and she unhesitatingly resolved to carry it out. With
all her capabilities of passive endurance, and her real sweetness of
temper, there was much of underlying force and spirit, and she was now
thoroughly aroused. No thought of self came into the question. Her
solicitude was entirely for Lady Halcot.
"Will you please to come up-stairs, Mr. Fosbrook?" Miss Withers said,
with less than her usual assurance.
Gwendoline advanced a step or two, colourless still, but
self-possessed. "Miss Withers, I have been asking Mr. Fosbrook his real
opinion of Lady Halcot; and I am very much surprised to find matters
far worse than you have given me any reason to suppose."
Miss Withers murmured something about "not liking to distress Miss
Halcombe."
"Mr. Fosbrook has also given me full leave to go in and out of Lady
Halcot's room," Gwendoline continued.
"Lady Halcot's wishes—" came in answer to this.
"I will find out for myself what Lady Halcot's wishes really are," said
Gwendoline. "Mr. Fosbrook, would you please to come up-stairs with me?
If you like to make a third, Miss Withers, pray come also."
Miss Withers seemingly did like to make a third, for she followed Mr.
Fosbrook, while Gwendoline preceded him. The little fair-haired woman's
control of feature was curiously displayed at this juncture. Neither
fear nor annoyance showed in her face. She rather appeared to be
occupied with cogitations as to her next step. On the first landing a
quick and unexpected movement placed her beside Gwendoline, and at the
same instant she was saying, in a subdued voice, "I should wish you to
understand, Miss Halcombe, that I have acted throughout entirely with
Lady Halcot's consent. The responsibility does not rest with me."
Gwendoline was silent, not knowing what answer to make; and the shadow
of an incredulous smile was on Mr. Fosbrook's lips. Miss Withers looked
steadily from one to the other.
"I assure you it is so. How could it be otherwise? I have acted simply
by Lady Halcot's desire,—simply as her mouthpiece."
"I do not think a mouthpiece is required. Lady Halcot will tell me her
own wishes," Gwendoline answered coldly.
The trio moved on without more words, till Lady Halcot's bedroom
door was reached. Gwendoline there paused, her hand upon it, that
Miss Withers might not push in first. "I do not wish to startle Lady
Halcot," she said, in a low tone. "No, not you, Miss Withers. Mr.
Fosbrook—"
Miss Withers obeyed, drawing back, strange to say, with a still
unruffled mien.
The doctor entered alone, greeting his patient cheerfully. "How are you
to-day, Lady Halcot? Not very bright, I am afraid. No; I thought so."
"Imprisonment never suits me," Lady Halcot answered, in a thin faint
voice. She was on the sofa, built up with cushions and shawls, not
dressed, but warmly muffled and covered, her shrunken wan face looking
out from manifold wraps. Excessive restlessness had driven her for an
hour from her bed, but she had to be lifted like an infant, and summer
heat brought no warmth to her chilled frame.
"The days seem long to you up here?" Mr. Fosbrook said
half-questioningly.
"Yes,—long and monotonous. I have been an active woman, and time hangs
heavily, with no occupations. I have no right to complain, however."
"A little change might do you no harm."
"A change down-stairs? I have no strength."
"No, I could not recommend that. But how would you like to see another
face, by way of variety? Miss Halcombe is anxious to pay you a visit."
"Gwendoline!" and there was a pause. "Yes,—if she cares to come."
"She is just outside. Miss Halcombe!" the doctor said; but almost
before the words crossed his lips Gwendoline stood by the bedside.
An instant's hesitation on her part, and the old lady would have
withdrawn into a shell of icy reserve. Gwendoline did not hesitate. She
knelt down beside the couch, and pressed her lips to one of the small
withered hands.
"Gwendoline, my dear!"
Lady Halcot's voice shook painfully.
"You will let me be with you now, will you not?" asked Gwendoline
beseechingly. "Mr. Fosbrook has given me leave. I have been so longing
to see you all these weeks."
"She told me—you—"
Lady Halcot broke off, and her apprehensive glance round the room was
not lost upon her companions. Miss Withers had become invisible. Mr.
Fosbrook went to the door, and closed it, not quite unconscious of a
figure moving away on the other side.
"There has been some misunderstanding," he said, as he came back. "Miss
Halcombe has not remained absent by her own will."
"I have wished so much to come. I would have given anything to be with
you," Gwendoline repeated earnestly.
Lady Halcot looked at her and at the doctor by turns. "Ah, yes,—a
misunderstanding!" she murmured at length. "Only a misunderstanding.
Such things will happen. But you will not leave me again, my dear. I
have wanted you so much. And I thought you were too busy to care to
come,—riding out, and painting, and writing letters home. A little
misunderstanding."
Gwendoline had it on her lips to say, "She told me you did not want
me." But something seemed to restrain the utterance. The old lady
looked so broken and shadowy, that Gwendoline shrank from putting her
to pain. She only said, "You will know me better now."
"Yes, my dear,—yes. I have misjudged you," said Lady Halcot sadly.
Then, as the doctor felt her pulse,—"I am not well to-day, Mr.
Fosbrook. I am very weak."
"Yes, very," he answered. "Is there anything you could fancy in the way
of food,—anything fresh?"
"Ah, if only one did not need to eat. I have such a distaste for
everything. But perhaps—perhaps, with Gwendoline to sit by me—"
"I am going to be your nurse now," said Gwendoline.
"I shall like that, my dear. And I think—perhaps—a little nearer,
Gwendoline; I don't want to be overheard. Is the door shut? Thanks. I
think, my dear, if you could manage to arrange it, when you are not
here yourself,—if either Spurrell or Frith could take your place,—so as
not to leave me quite alone with Miss Withers!" The tones were eager
as well as tremulous. "I have no complaints to make. Miss Withers is
an excellent nurse,—most painstaking. But sometimes—it tries me a
little—if you could manage so—"
"You shall never be without Spurrell or Frith or myself in the room for
a single instant," said Gwendoline firmly.
"Don't tell Miss Withers that I have expressed the wish. She has been
most attentive, and I should be sorry to hurt her feelings. Indeed, I
am quite sure she means everything for the best. But if—if you 'could'
arrange it—"
The mastery which Miss Withers had evidently obtained over the old lady
in her weakness was strangely and pitifully shown. Gwendoline could
hardly control her indignation; but for Lady Halcot's sake she only
replied quietly, "I will, indeed. I promise to take care. You shall not
be alone with Miss Withers again."
"Then all will be as I could wish. I have no desire for other changes.
She means well, and she is very capable. Doctor, I think I will
ask you to come again this evening. The sinking is worst then, and
perhaps you could do something to relieve it. I want a few words with
Gwendoline now, before I am too tired. And perhaps, if you should see
Miss Withers,—perhaps you could keep her in conversation down-stairs
for a few minutes? You understand I do not wish to blame her,—I am not
asking you to find fault with her,—but simply if you could detain her a
little—"
The doctor said "Certainly," and took leave at once, fully
comprehending.
Gwendoline went outside the door with him, closing it after her, and
said, under breath, "Would it not be possible to forbid Miss Withers
the room?"
"I hardly think so," he answered, equally low. "Lady Halcot could not
stand the agitation. Do as she has asked you; and meantime I will give
Miss Withers a word of warning. It may be only a question of a few
days."
Gwendoline went back to her old position, holding again the withered
hand between her own, and wondering badly what might be the import of
those words to the old lady herself. Only a few more days, perhaps!
What lay beyond?
"That is what I wished," the sunken voice said. "Is the door shut,
Gwendoline? No, not locked. I do not care to offend Miss Withers, and
perhaps she might not like to come and find it locked. But Mr. Fosbrook
will detain her for a few minutes. I have something to say, and I am
anxious not to be overheard. My memory seems so weak now; but I think I
can recall—presently—what it was."
"It will come back to you by and by. Don't distress yourself with
trying to remember now," Gwendoline said tenderly, as she might have
spoken to a sick child. This poor little wasted feeble creature seemed
utterly unlike the dignified Lady Halcot. "Another time will do as
well."
"No, my dear; I cannot tell. The doctor does not say what is the matter
with me, and I suppose it is only old age and tiredness; but I shall
never be well again. And sometimes everything seems going from me."
She looked steadily into vacancy with a strained expression, as if
seeking after wandering ideas.
"Something that you did! What was it, Gwendoline? Did you give me
reason to be displeased with you? Or was it—was it your mother? I have
so much confusion of memory, I cannot disentangle things."
"Mother displeased you long ago, Lady Halcot; but you have forgiven
her now, I am quite sure," said Gwendoline. "And you were displeased
with me, but I could not tell why. I think it may have been another
misunderstanding,—through Miss Withers."
"Yes, yes; I dare say it was that," said Lady Halcot feebly.
"Something that she knew, which you did not tell me. If you had told
me, I should not have minded. But we need not go into that now. A
misunderstanding!—Yes, another misunderstanding! You are a good girl,
Gwendoline. I see it now. I wish—I wish I had not been persuaded to
alter my will."
Gwendoline heard this silently.
"I do not think I can alter it again; I am so tired, so very weak and
weary," continued Lady Halcot "And I am not quite sure that it would
be right. The money left for a hospital and almshouses—once given—I do
not think I could rightly take that back now. My conscience would not
approve."
"No, indeed; I am sure you could not," said Gwendoline.
"You feel so too? That is a relief to my mind," said Lady Halcot, as if
surprised. "I thought perhaps you would be angry. Miss Withers said so
sometimes, and wished you not to know. But you do not love riches as
some do."
"I think I would rather not have a very great deal of money," said
Gwendoline. "Wealth brings danger with it."
"Ah, that sermon!" and a shiver passed over Lady Halcot. "Yes, I
remember. It comes back to me often, especially at night. 'Not rich
toward God.' I have so often thought since of those words. But, my
dear, you will have something, only I cannot recall how much. And I
have left four thousand pounds to Miss Withers. It is a large sum. I
think she has wanted me lately to make it eight thousand, but I could
not feel that to be right. Still, she has worked hard, and she means
so well always,—and there are her nieces and nephews too. I think now
that I have not acted quite wisely. I ought to have remembered how much
stronger your claim upon me was—of the two. But you will not grudge it
to her, Gwendoline. I cannot make any further alterations."
"It will be all quite right," said Gwendoline softly. "Don't trouble
yourself any more about money. That matters so little."
"I have nearly done with it. But there is the responsibility," said
Lady Halcot. Then more faintly she added, "Now I must rest."
Sleep crept over her, and she lay unconscious, with her head supported
on Gwendoline's arm. Miss Withers presently came in, wearing precisely
her usual expression. Gwendoline could not have told from her face
whether or no she realized the changed aspect of affairs. Presently,
however, a movement of Lady Halcot set her free, and Miss Withers then
made signs of a desire to speak. The two moved noiselessly into the
adjoining room.
"I merely wished, Miss Halcombe, to apologize for my unfortunate
mistake. It must seem strange now, but I do assure you Lady Halcot has
never expressed the slightest desire for your presence."
"It does seem strange," Gwendoline answered.
"If I had understood,—if I could possibly have guessed; but, indeed,
she has, on the contrary, appeared to desire nothing so much as quiet.
I have felt it my duty to secure it for her. And Mr. Fosbrook said
so much about the danger of excitement. If I have misjudged, it has
been misjudgment only. You will, I am sure, give me credit for right
motives."
Gwendoline thought it as well not to enter upon a discussion
about motives. "Lady Halcot wishes to look upon the whole as a
misunderstanding," she said; "and I am willing to accept the same view.
I need say no more, except that for your own sake I am very sorry for
the way in which you have acted."
Miss Withers showed no resentment. "I can quite believe that my
conduct may appear singular to you," she said meekly. "You cannot, of
course, see the matter as a whole, or know quite all that passed. Lady
Halcot is in a feeble state of mind, and says one hour what she unsays
the next. On reflection I believe you will regard the matter more
leniently."
Gwendoline was silent, fearing to speak too strongly. She found patient
listening by no means easy.
"Of course, if it were Lady Halcot's wish that I should not attend upon
her any more," Miss Withers suggested, with a mournful intonation,—"if
it were her wish, even, that I should leave Riversmouth—" and the
little woman's handkerchief went up to her eyes.
"No," Gwendoline answered. "Lady Halcot takes the most indulgent view
possible of your conduct, and I am trying to do the same. Mr. Fosbrook
forbids all agitation, and there must be no explanations. We can make
use of you in the sick-room still; only you must please to understand
that all arrangements are entirely in my hands."
"To be sure. I shall not forget," said Miss Withers.