CHAPTER IV.

THE MEETING.

Adelina found Mary awaiting her, and, though, secretly delighting in the

interruption, learned that there was really no reason for her being

summoned, except Mary's wish to discuss recent events, and the desire to

hasten a meeting between the two young people. The young girl read the

question Mary longed to ask, and answered it accordingly, "I have seen

him."

"He is much better than we ever dared to expect. He seems never to have

been troubled by the strange malady we know has existed, save for one

illusion. Twice he has spoken of his indebtedness to us for the care of

his brother. It is clearly a case of mistaken identity. Ralph thinks the

man, for whom we have cared, was his brother. As I said, his loss of

such consciousness, is all that remains of his former trouble. Perhaps

he did have a brother," Mary ended thoughtfully.

"Yes," replied Adelina, "he has mentioned a brother, though I have

often wondered why he never told me more concerning him."

"The gentleman who accompanied Ralph is his physician, Dr. Ellis. He

said that Ralph was so anxious to come, and that he was so imprudent he

needed some one to watch him."

"Did Dr. Ellis use the word 'watch' before Ralph?" asked Adelina

indignantly.

"Yes, but only to convey physical deficiency."

"And where is Ralph now?" asked Adelina.

"With Harold, in the library. Let us go there now. Dr. Ellis left on the

plea of other engagements, but partly, I think, to leave us alone with

Ralph this first evening. Aside from professional feelings, he seems to

take the greatest interest in Ralph."

By this time the speakers had reached the library door, where Mary

paused as if to give her young friend a moment for preparation. Adelina,

however, desired to make a speedy entrance, which would admit of no time

for deliberation. She felt that if she had time to consider the

prospective meeting, a feeling of constraint would follow. The most

carefully prepared language remains unuttered when one is brought face

to face with the contingency. Memory fails, leaving only a trace of

forgotten eloquence, which is sufficient to render us speechless,

knowing as we do, that aught said now, must ever be inferior to the

expressions formulated in quieter moments. Adelina straightway entered

the room. Ralph turned quickly, as though in recognition of her step. He

came eagerly forward and took the proffered hand, looking searchingly

into the girl's eyes. What he read there was not the indifference he had

contemplated, prior to his arrival at Deanmouth. A faint flush suffused

Adelina's cheek, and, as if to conceal her emotion, she uttered some

polite triviality, which, it is safe to say, was not remembered by her.

Harold left them, ostensibly on some forgotten errand.

Adelina looked after his retreating form longingly, but remembered that

Mary had not forsaken her. To her surprise, she found, on glancing

around, that Mary had not even entered with her. Ralph Bamford had

differing views as to the desirability of additional company, as was

testified by his readiness to enter into conversation, while inwardly

blessing Harold for his considerate departure.

"It is such a pleasure to be here," he said. "How I have longed to see

you." Then, afraid of his own audacity, emended the last sentence by

saying: "Yes, I have often thought of the old place and its occupants."

"It seems to me that we might have been mentioned first, besides it is

not long since you saw the place."

"Only a matter of three years. There is, I believe, one accepted mode

for the computation of time, which is universally utilized by the

enlightened, however we may disagree in the lapse of it. To me three

years is no short time."

"What can you mean? You were----" Adelina broke off, horrified at her

want of thought; for had she not promised to be all carefulness?

Already she found herself endeavoring to recall to Ralph his other

sojourns at the same place under such inauspicious circumstances. She

could not proceed with the self-interrupted sentence, even though she

was aware that the pause was noticed by Ralph; yet, surely, it was but

natural that Adelina should remind him of his former visits to the

place. He had seemed so like his old self that she was certain he would

remember the visit of only a year ago. She scarce knew what to answer,

when Ralph said with a most surprised look:

"What is the matter? Have I returned sooner than you expected?"

There was reproach as well as surprise in the query. Adelina was pained

by the lapse of memory, supposedly inconsistent with the soundness of

mind she had commenced to think had been restored to him. Of course the

young man attributed her silence to indifference, which state she was

far from feeling. The situation was certainly a strange one. There was

the lover hanging on the anticipated reply, and longing for a denial of

his hasty words; the woman fearing to utter some word which would either

wound him, or intensify the mental failure of which the young man

himself was totally oblivious. As soon as Adelina perceived her error,

she tried to retrieve it by diverting Ralph's attention, refraining

carefully from setting him aright concerning his mistaken asseveration;

but the young man was not to be diverted by other channels of thought

from the question at issue. Having noted Adelina's confusion, he had

asked for the cause, and finding one question unanswered, had

supplemented it by another. He was growing impatient. Why did Adelina

act so unlike herself? Surely, there was nothing to conceal. It was not

as though he was a stranger; though, to his amazement, he found he was

being treated as such; why, he had known her capable of giving the most

evasive replies in the sweetest manner to the most direct

interrogations, and never had she appeared so ill at ease to him. Did

two persons ever more thoroughly misunderstand each other, or so fail in

penetrating the other's thoughts? There could not even be a

reconciliation when no wrong had been committed; there was only the

breach which neither could cross. Only a feeling of misery, blank and

hopeless remained, which it seemed time only could assuage.

Adelina felt as strongly as Ralph her utter inability to talk; the mere

fact that she was so thoroughly misunderstood widened the breach. If she

could only have explained to Ralph the cause of her hesitation,--but no,

she knew she never could.

Even if Ralph was ever his true self again, Adelina knew that even to

spare herself she would never hurt him by such an explanation, an

explanation entailing a revelation of the symptoms and various stages of

his disease. If it necessitated such indelicacy, she felt that she would

prefer being misjudged. This was only theory. She had not been put to

the test. How can we answer for what we shall do in a given instance?

Adelina was the first to rally, and was beginning to speak, when the

door-knob was imperatively rattled by something intent upon letting its

wants be known.

"It must be Watch," said Adelina, after she had discovered whence the

sound issued.

"An intelligent dog," answered Ralph, "and certainly very active for his

years. I am ashamed to say I had almost forgotten his existence."

"You wouldn't if you stayed long," said Adelina, as she hastened to the

door. Accustomed as she was to the rather rough canine greetings, she

concealed herself behind the door without looking at the supposed dog as

she opened a way for his entrance. A small voice said, "I want to tome

in."

"That much is evident," laughingly put in Ralph, as Adelina emerged

from her hiding place.

"Is that you, Pet?" she asked. "Come and speak to Mr. Bamford."

"Is oo mawwied to him?" asked the child, innocently.

"If we only were," said Ralph to himself, perhaps not intended to be in

so low a tone as not to reach the desired quarter.

"Do oo weally want to be?" questioned the child, of Ralph, who had drawn

her onto his knee.

"Did you come alone?" was the irrelevant answer.

"'Es; I'se not afwaid. I tan thee my houth fwom here."

"Our rector, Mr. Bayne, is her father," explained Adelina. "We are the

greatest of friends," she added.

"Who? You and Mr. Bayne?" asked Ralph.

"No, the child, of course."

Pet, not caring to be excluded from the conversation, and feeling a

monopoly unfair, persisted in obtaining a solution to the subject

uppermost in her baby mind.

"Won't oo tell Pet?" she said. "Do oo want to det mawwied?"

Receiving still no reply, and in no wise diverted from her curiosity,

she continued to enlarge on the subject.

"Papa'll mawwy oo. I'll wun ast him now. Pet fordets," she said,

slipping off Ralph's knee ere he was aware of her intention.

"Oh, stop her," cried Adelina, with energy, but so horrified that she

could do nothing herself to intercept the childish form. Ralph hurried

to the door just in time, and caught the child in his arms.

She looked disappointed.

"Pet fordets," she reiterated.

"You will never get me to believe that," laughed Ralph, remembering her

former perseverance. Seeing that Pet did not understand, he kissed her

and said he wanted her to stay with him. Adelina had retired to the

farthest corner of the room. At first, she was half angry with the

child; but later, amusement was the predominating sensation. Presently

Pet's voice was heard asking where Ada was, so the latter stepped

forward. Ralph's eyes were dancing mischievously.

"You do not mind the baby's prattle, surely?" said he, lest Adelina

would deem his ill-concealed merriment untimely and unprecedented.

The child had brought a change of atmosphere. The two older persons

seemed to breathe a different air. Adelina had been troubled at Pet's

extreme candor; though, meanwhile admiring the parents who so early had

instilled that virtue. Pet had looked with wide-eyed wonder at the two

who could wish her to keep anything from her father.

"I always tell papa evwything," she urged.

"But this is not about yourself, dear," said Adelina, trying to put it

so the little one would understand.

"But I thaw it," was the answer.

"Saw it?" said Adelina; then added severely, "you saw nothing."

"I did thee he wanted to mawwy oo," sobbed the child, "'tause he looked

happy."

Adelina found herself floundering in a sea of difficulties, so for

answer, only kissed the child; and, to put an end decisively to further

argument, said:

"Pet, dear, let us see if Ralph has goodies in his pocket."

The little one understood. Whatever wrong she had committed was

forgiven. She glanced at Ralph, for it never occurred to her that

Adelina's suggestion might prove fallacious. Her implicit confidence in

another's word gave evidence of the training received; that the child

was not accustomed to being deceived in trifles was obvious. When it was

found that Ralph could produce the desired sweetmeats, Adelina asked,

teasingly:

"Have you never overcome your boyish weakness?"

"Fortunately for you I have not. Your veracity was at stake. It would

have served you right if I had refused to resign the desired articles,

after your putting an abrupt terminus to an absorbing topic, ingeniously

introduced."

Such audacity in referring to the subject Adelina fondly thought she had

brought to an ignominious end quite took away her breath.

"Yes," pursued Ralph reflectively, "that child is a genius; added to

that is the perseverance requisite to complete success."

"Those two are incorrigible," murmured Adelina.

"No, we're not," objected the irrepressible Pet, "we're in chair. Tan't

oo thee uth?" She had all of the child's impatience of incorrect

statements.

Ralph shook with laughter at this naive utterance.

"I'm doin' home," said Pet, waiting, however, with the expectation of an

invitation to remain.

As her elders vouchsafed no reply, she repeated the information, and

slid off Ralph's knee.

Ralph who felt that he had probably gone far enough, simply expressed a

desire to have her return very soon.

"I will tome," she promptly answered. Then, waiting to be kissed by

both, she ran off, calling back sweetly:

"I'll not tell papa if oo don't want me to."

A Singular Metamorphosis · 第 4 / 7 章