CHAPTER XXVI. CONVERSATION WITH MY MOTHER.

I REACHED my own house in time to snatch two or three hours of repose,

before I paid my customary morning visit to my mother in her own room. I

observed, in her reception of me on this occasion, certain peculiarities

of look and manner which were far from being familiar in my experience

of her.

When our eyes first met, she regarded me with a wistful, questioning

look, as if she were troubled by some doubt which she shrunk from

expressing in words. And when I inquired after her health, as usual, she

surprised me by answering as impatiently as if she resented my having

mentioned the subject. For a moment, I was inclined to think these

changes signified that she had discovered my absence from home during

the night, and that she had some suspicion of the true cause of it. But

she never alluded, even in the most distant manner, to Mrs. Van

Brandt; and not a word dropped from her lips which implied, directly or

indirectly, that I had pained or disappointed her. I could only conclude

that she had something important to say in relation to herself or to

me--and that for reasons of her own she unwillingly abstained from

giving expression to it at that time.

Reverting to our ordinary topics of conversation, we touched on the

subject (always interesting to my mother) of my visit to Shetland.

Speaking of this, we naturally spoke also of Miss Dunross. Here, again,

when I least expected it, there was another surprise in store for me.

"You were talking the other day," said my mother, "of the green flag

which poor Dermody's daughter worked for you, when you were both

children. Have you really kept it all this time?"

"Yes."

"Where have you left it? In Scotland?"

"I have brought it with me to London."

"Why?"

"I promised Miss Dunross to take the green flag with me, wherever I

might go."

My mother smiled.

"Is it possible, George, that you think about this as the young lady in

Shetland thinks? After all the years that have passed, you believe in

the green flag being the means of bringing Mary Dermody and yourself

together again?"

"Certainly not! I am only humoring one of the fancies of poor Miss

Dunross. Could I refuse to grant her trifling request, after all I owed

to her kindness?"

The smile left my mother's face. She looked at me attentively.

"Miss Dunross seems to have produced a very favorable impression on

you," she said.

"I own it. I feel deeply interested in her."

"If she had not been an incurable invalid, George, I too might have

become interested in Miss Dunross--perhaps in the character of my

daughter-in-law?"

"It is useless, mother, to speculate on what _might_ have happened. The

sad reality is enough."

My mother paused a little before she put her next question to me.

"Did Miss Dunross always keep her veil drawn in your presence, when

there happened to be light in the room?"

"Always."

"She never even let you catch a momentary glance at her face?"

"Never."

"And the only reason she gave you was that the light caused her a

painful sensation if it fell on her uncovered skin?"

"You say that, mother, as if you doubt whether Miss Dunross told me the

truth."

"No, George. I only doubt whether she told you _all_ the truth."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't be offended, my dear. I believe Miss Dunross has some more

serious reason for keeping her face hidden than the reason that she gave

_you_."

I was silent. The suspicion which those words implied had never occurred

to my mind. I had read in medical books of cases of morbid nervous

sensitiveness exactly similar to the case of Miss Dunross, as described

by herself--and that had been enough for me. Now that my mother's idea

had found its way from her mind to mine, the impression produced on

me was painful in the last degree. Horrible imaginings of deformity

possessed my brain, and profaned all that was purest and dearest in my

recollections of Miss Dunross. It was useless to change the subject--the

evil influence that was on me was too potent to be charmed away by talk.

Making the best excuse that I could think of for leaving my mother's

room, I hurried away to seek a refuge from myself, where alone I could

hope to find it, in the presence of Mrs. Van Brandt.

The Two Destinies · 第 26 / 36 章