Although it was mid-day before I reached the Castle, the gate to the
park had not been opened, the drive was deserted and even the great door
to the house itself was closed.
And when, in answer to my ringing, one of the maids came after a certain
delay, wearing neither apron nor cap, I found the hall empty and no sign
of life in the house, except a shrill chorus of laughter which came from
the servants' quarters.
"What's the meaning of this?" I asked, but before the girl could reply,
Price who had come down to take my wraps said:
"I'll tell your ladyship presently."
As we were going upstairs she told me that the entire house-party had
that morning gone off on a cruise in Mr. Eastcliff's yacht, that they
would be away several days, and that Madame had left a letter for me
which was supposed to explain everything.
I found it on the mantelpiece in my boudoir under an open telegram which
had been stuck into the edge of the bevelled glass. The telegram, which
was addressed to me, was from Martin.
_"Expect to arrive to-morrow evening. Staying until Wednesday
afternoon. If not convenient wire Principal's House, King George's
College."_
"To-morrow'?"
"That means to-day," said Price. "The telegram came yesterday. Madame
opened it and she told me to say--"
"Let me read her letter first," I said.
The letter ran as follows:
_"My Dearest Mary,
"You will be astonished to find the house empty and all your
racketty guests gone. Let me explain, and if you are angry about
what has happened you must lay all the blame on me.
"Well, you see, my dear, it was arranged nearly a month ago that
before we left your delightful house we should make a little cruise
round your charming island. But we had not expected that this would
come off so soon, when suddenly and unexpectedly that silly Mr.
Eastcliff, who has no more brains than a spring chicken, remembered
that he had promised to visit a friend who has taken a shoot in
Skye. Result--we had to make the cruise immediately or not at all,
and yet behold! our hostess was away on an urgent call of sickness,
and what in the world were we to do without her?
"Everybody was in a quandary--that wise Mr. Vivian saying it would
be 'jolly bad form by Jove' to go without you, while Mr. Eastcliffs
'deelightfully vicked' little Camilla declared it would be
'vilaynous,' and your husband vowed that his Margaret Mary could
not possibly be left behind.
"It was then that a certain friend of yours took the liberty of
remembering that you did not like the sea, and that even if you had
been here and had consented to go with us it would have been only
out of the sweetness of your heart, which I've always known to be
the tenderest and most unselfish in the world.
"This seemed to satisfy the whole house and everybody was at ease,
when lo! down on us like a thunderbolt came the telegram from Mr.
Conrad. Thinking it might require to be repeated, I took the
liberty of opening it, and then we were in a plight, I assure you.
"What on earth was he to think of our leaving the house when he was
on the point of arriving? And, above all, how were we to support
the disappointment of missing him--some of us, the women
especially, and myself in particular, being just crazy to see him
again?
"This nearly broke down our plans altogether, but once more I came
to the rescue by remembering that Mr. Conrad was not coming to see
us but you, and that the very kindest thing we could do for a
serious person of his kind would be to take our racketty presence
out of the way.
"That contented everybody except my mother, who--would you believe
it?--had gotten some prudish notions into her head about the
impropriety of leaving you alone, and declared her intention of
staying behind to keep you in countenance! We soon laughed her out
of that, though, and now, to relieve you of her company, we are
carrying her away with us--which will be lots of fun, for she's as
fond of water as a cat and will fancy she is seasick all the time.
"Good-bye, dearest! We're just off. I envy you. You happy, happy
girl! I am sure you will have such a good time. What a man! As
natural as nature! I see, by the insular paper that your islanders
adore him.
"Hope you found your father better. Another wonderful man! Such an
original type, too! Good-bye, my dearest dear_, ALMA.
"_P.S. Have missed you so much, darling! Castle Raa wasn't the same
place without you--I assure you it wasn't_."
While I was turning this letter over in my hand, wondering what the
beautiful fiend had meant by it, my maid, who was standing by, was
visibly burning with a desire to know its contents and give me the
benefit of her own interpretation.
I told her in general what Alma had said and she burst into little
screams of indignation.
"Well, the huzzy! The wicked huzzy! That's all she is, my lady, begging
your pardon, and there's no other name for her. Arranged a month ago,
indeed! It was never thought of until last night after Mr. Conrad's
telegram came."
"Then what does it mean?"
"I can tell your ladyship what it means, if you'll promise not to fly
out at me again. It means that Madame wants to stand in your shoes, and
wouldn't mind going through the divorce court to do so. And seeing that
you can't be tempted to divorce your husband because you are a Catholic,
she thinks your husband, who isn't, might be tempted to divorce you. So
she's setting a trap for you, and she expects you to fall into it while
she's away, and if you do. . . ."
"Impossible!"
"Oh, trust _me_, your ladyship. I haven't been keeping my ears closed
while your ladyship has been away, and if that chatterbox of a maid of
hers hadn't been such a fool I suppose she would have been left behind
to watch. But there's somebody else in the house who thinks she has a
grievance against you, and if listening at keyholes will do
anything . . . Hush!"
Price stopped suddenly with her finger to her lip, and then going on
tiptoe to the door she opened it with a jerk, when the little
housekeeper was to be seen rising to an upright position while
pretending that she had slipped.
"I only came to ask if her ladyship had lunched?" she said.
I answered that I had not, and then told her (so as to give her no
further excuse for hanging about me) that in future she was to take her
orders from Price--an announcement which caused my maid to stand several
inches taller in her shoes, and sent the housekeeper hopping downstairs
with her beak in the air like an injured cockatoo.
All the afternoon I was in a state of the utmost agitation, sometimes
wondering what Martin would think of the bad manners of my husband, who
after inviting him had gone away just as he was about to arrive;
sometimes asking myself, with a quiver of shame, if he would imagine
that this was a scheme of my own contriving; but oftenest remembering my
resolution of renunciation and thinking of the much fiercer fight that
was before me now that I had to receive and part with him alone.
More than once I had half a mind to telegraph to Martin putting him off,
and though I told myself that to do so would not be renunciation but
merely flight from temptation, I always knew at the bottom of my heart
that I really wanted him to come.
Nevertheless I vowed to my very soul that I should be strong--strong in
every word and look--and if Alma was daring me I should defy her, and
she would see that I should neither yield nor run away.
Thus I entrenched myself at last in a sort of bright strong faith in my
power to resist temptation. But I must leave it to those who know better
than I the way to read a woman's heart to say how it came to pass that
towards five o'clock, when I heard the sound of wheels and going on to
my balcony saw a jaunting-car at the front entrance, and then
opening my door heard Martin's great voice in the hall, I flew
downstairs--literally flew--in my eagerness to welcome him.
There he was in his brown Harris tweeds and soft slouch hat with such an
atmosphere of health and sweep of winds about him as almost took away my
breath.
"Helloa!" he cried, and I am sure his eyes brightened at the sight of me
for they were like the sea when the sun shines on it.
"You're better, aren't you?" he said. "No need to ask that, though--the
colour in your face is wonderful."
In spite of my resolution, and the attempt I made to show him only a
kind of glad seriousness, I could not help it if I blushed. Also I could
not help it if, while going upstairs and telling him what had happened
to the house-party, I said he was doomed to the disappointment of having
nobody except myself for company, and then, woman-like, waited eagerly
for what he would say.
"So they're all gone except yourself, are they?" he said.
"I'm afraid they are," I answered.
"Well, if it had been the other way about, and you had gone and they had
stayed, by the stars of God, I _should_ have been disappointed. But
things being as they are, we'll muddle through, shan't we?"
Not all the vows in the world could prevent me from finding that answer
delightful, and when, on entering my boudoir, he said:
"Sorry to miss Madame though. I wanted a word with that lady before I
went down to the Antarctic," I could not resist the mischievous impulse
to show him Alma's letter.
While he read it his bright face darkened (for all the world like a
jeweller's window when the shutter comes down on it), and when he had
finished it he said once more:
"I hate that woman! She's like a snake. I'd like to put my foot on it."