LEAH.
Nance could read faces very quickly.
“What is the matter?” she said, looking at her husband.
He hesitated for a moment. It seemed cruel to tell her before Lady
Georgina; but after all it might be the best way.
“I was telling this good old friend of mine,” he said, “that I am obliged
to leave Rowton Heights in a few minutes. I was asking her to be good to
you during my absence.”
Nance had a good deal of pride, and also much latent strength of
character. Had Rowton given her this information when they were alone,
she would probably have cried and fallen on his neck; now she only turned
very pale, drew herself up until her slender but stately height gave her
new-born dignity, and said in a gentle tone:
“Thank you for thinking about me. I did not know you were going away.
Shall you be back to-morrow?”
“Plucky darling,” said Rowton under his breath. Aloud he said: “I shall
be away for a few days. I will write to you from town.”
“And where are you going?” she asked in a curiously steady tone.
“I will let you know from town.”
“But are you going soon?” she asked again.
“In five minutes, dearest.”
“Then,” she answered, “I had better ring the bell to order the dog-cart
round.”
“If you’ll be so kind, Nance,” he replied.
She went across the room and pressed the button of the electric bell,
then she walked to one of the windows and stood looking out.
“I admire this view very much, don’t you?” she said to Lady Georgina.
“It is one of the most superb views in the county, Mrs. Rowton,” said
that good lady, marching up to Nancy’s side.
“I will help her out—she has stuff in her,” thought the lady. “By the
way,” she said, turning abruptly to Rowton, “what do you think of that
mare I chose for you?”
“I was just showing her to Nancy,” said Rowton, smiling and looking
relieved; “she is perfect.”
“You would say so if you saw her pedigree. Now, Mrs. Rowton, I propose
to call here early to-morrow morning to take you out for a ride. Without
conceit I can say of myself that I am one of the most accomplished
horsewomen in the county. Will you be ready for me by nine o’clock?”
“So early?” asked Nance.
“So early!” exclaimed Lady Georgina; “I am often on horseback at seven
o’clock. Ah! and you might bring your husband’s little nephew with you;
that boy rides splendidly—he has no fear in him.”
Nancy did not reply. The sound of wheels was heard on the gravel.
“There is the dog-cart,” she said, looking at Rowton.
“So it is,” he answered—he looked at his watch—“and time for me to be
off too. I see they have put the luggage on. Good-bye, Lady Georgina,
a thousand thanks. Good-bye, little woman, expect to hear from me from
town.”
“Good-bye, Adrian,” said Nancy. Her voice felt like ice, but her heart
was on fire.
Rowton took her in his arms and pressed her to his breast; his lips met
hers passionately, his eyes, bold and yet full of subdued anguish, looked
into hers. He turned abruptly, the door sounded behind him, and a moment
later the crunching of wheels on the gravel became distinctly audible.
“I would not overdo it,” said Lady Georgina, looking at Nance.
“Overdo what?” she answered somewhat proudly.
“Well, you know you feel horribly lonely without that good fellow. I
never saw anything more plucky in my life than the way you subdued your
feelings and let him go away without a murmur, but you need not mind me—I
am the soul of frankness—the essence of openness. I always say what I
think and show what I feel. You can copy me. It strikes me, by the way,
that you and I are going to be friends.”
“I hope so,” said Nancy.
“I know it, that is, if you will have me. I am a good friend, Mrs.
Rowton, and a very nasty enemy. You may as well take me as a friend, will
you?”
“You are Adrian’s friend, and you shall be mine,” said Nancy.
“That is right. Now, look here, child. I am not going to leave you to
your own miserable feelings for the rest of the day. I know that good man
you have married fifty times better than you do.”
“I can scarcely allow you to think that,” said Nancy.
“Oh! tut, tut, of course, I don’t mean the love-making side of him. He
never would make love to anybody, although half the girls round the
Heights had a try for it in the old days; but I know a side of him that
you do not know. He is restless, he is essentially a rover—a gay rover,
we all call him here. You must get accustomed to his vanishing in the
peculiar way he has just vanished—he will come back as suddenly; without
the least warning, any day or any hour the sunshine of his presence will
once more light up the house. Now, come for a walk in the grounds—and,
oh! by the way, pray invite me to dinner.”
Nancy could scarcely forbear from smiling.
“Will you stay?” she asked.
“Scarcely a cordial invitation,” said Lady Georgina, biting her lips and
smiling; “all the same I shall accept it. If you will excuse me, I’ll
just go and speak to my groom; he can take Dandy round to the stables. I
need not send for a dinner dress, need I?”
“Oh, no; stay as you are,” said Nance. She felt slightly stunned, but
Lady Georgina’s presence forced her to rouse herself.
They went into the grounds. The day was sunshiny, and the first signs of
spring began to be apparent in some delicate buds of green which were
coming out on the ribes and other of the hardiest shrubs. As they walked
side by side, Lady Georgina kept up a flow of small talk. She was a woman
of considerable character, although at first sight she appeared to be
nothing but froth and frivolity. She had a kindly and sterling heart. She
knew more about Rowton than he had any idea of, and she pitied Nance from
the bottom of her heart.
“How pretty she is!” she said to herself. “Anyone can see that she
is madly in love with that handsome lion. Poor child, what will her
future be? If my suspicions are correct, what chance has she of lasting
happiness? Well, I like her husband, whatever his failings, and I am
going to like her.”
Accordingly Lady Georgina put out her really great powers, and before
long Nance had submitted to her charm. They walked about for over an
hour and then came in to tea. Afterwards Nance took her guest up to her
bedroom.
Hester entered to attend to the ladies. When she had withdrawn Lady
Georgina spoke about her to Nance.
“I know that girl,” she said; “her name is Hester Winsome. She used to be
one of my favourite pupils in the village school. She went off to London
when she was fifteen. I have heard things of her since, which were not
absolutely in her favour. Why have you engaged her as your maid?”
“I do not know anything about it,” said Nance. “Mrs. Ferguson brought her
to me on the night of my arrival. She told me she was a girl from the
village who had been thoroughly trained in London.”
“Oh! I don’t doubt the training,” said Lady Georgina. “I think she got a
start when she saw me—she pretended not to recognise me. Frankly, I don’t
like her.”
“Nor do I in my heart,” said Nancy; “but she is very attentive and
clever.”
“Clever! too clever,” said Lady Georgina. “Don’t let her pry into your
secrets.”
“My secrets—I have none,” said Nance. Then she paused and coloured
crimson. She remembered the great secret which pressed upon her day and
night.
“Why do you get so red, child?” said Lady Georgina. “You say you have no
secrets, but your face says you have. Now, don’t tempt me. If I have a
fault, it is curiosity, inordinate curiosity. I never betray a friend,
and once I know the truth I never question, and never, never pry; but
until I know the truth I am—well, I cannot help it—_troublesome_. Don’t
show me a little, Nance Rowton, for if you do I shall poke out all.”
“I am sure you won’t,” said Nancy—“you are too much of a lady.”
“Now, was there ever such a snub!” said Lady Georgina, tapping her foot
somewhat impatiently on the floor as she spoke. “Child, you are quite
refreshing. If you speak in that frank way to everyone else you will bowl
all the county over; but I hear wheels—more visitors—come along down and
I will help you to entertain them.”
Until quite late in the afternoon, until the winter’s day had faded
into dark, Nance and Lady Georgina, or rather Lady Georgina herself,
entertained the county at Rowton Heights.
Each neighbour with the least pretensions to gentility hastened to pay
respect to Rowton’s fair bride.
“You must begin to return all these visits in a few days,” said Lady
Georgina.
“I cannot until Adrian comes back,” said Nance.
“Oh! nonsense, you must manage to lead an interested and happy life apart
from that husband of yours.”
“No, I won’t,” said Nance proudly.
“Oh! you won’t. You will sing a different tune after a time. I tell you,
Mrs. Rowton, he has got his own pursuits, and he will follow them to the
death in spite of you or twenty girls like you, and you’ll die of _ennui_
if you have not your own individual interests. You must begin to return
these calls by the end of the week, and then invitations will pour in.
If Mr. Rowton is at home he will go with you, if not, you must go by
yourself or with me. I shall be delighted to chaperone you to any extent.”
Nance bowed her head somewhat wearily. A good deal of Lady Georgina’s gay
chatter was scarcely heard by her. She admitted all the kindness, but her
heart was sore, and she longed indescribably to be alone. When the good
lady at last took her leave, Nancy could not help giving vent to a sigh
of relief. Soon afterwards she went upstairs to bed.
On the way to her own room, just outside the door she came face to face
with her maid, Hester, who was talking to an elderly woman, with sandy
hair and a broad freckled face. The woman had straight lips, a jaw of
iron, and pale light blue eyes. She was dressed very neatly, but not in
the dress of an ordinary servant. Her hair was tightly braided and she
wore it perfectly smooth.
“Well, good night, Leah,” said Hester, as Mrs. Rowton appeared on the
scene.
The woman called Leah favoured Nancy with a prolonged and undoubtedly
curious stare.
“Good evening, ma’am,” she said; then she dropped a curtsey and
disappeared down a passage.
“Who is that?” asked Nancy of Hester.
“She is the caretaker of the poor mad lady,” replied Hester.
“Then what is she doing in this part of the house?”
“She was only talking to me about her charge, Mrs. Rowton. She says that
poor Mrs. Cameron is very queer to-night, and Leah wanted to know if I
would go and help her to sit up with her.”
“Well, of course you won’t, Hester,” said Nance. “I do not know anything
about the case, but you surely want your night’s rest, and I am sure Mr.
Rowton——”
“Oh!” said Hester, with a toss of her head, “Mr. Rowton would not
interfere with a thing of this sort. Leah does want help at times, for
Mrs. Cameron is terribly violent. Indeed, I cannot make out why she is
not put into an asylum like other mad ladies.”
“It is not your business to discuss that question,” replied Nance.
“Of course not, ma’am, and I am sorry I forgot myself.” Hester spoke in
a subdued voice; she turned her back on Nance, who did not see the angry
and vindictive flash in her eyes. “Shall I take down your hair now,
ma’am?” she asked, speaking in a tone almost of servility.
“Thank you, no, I prefer to wait on myself to-night.”
“As you please, ma’am. I have left everything ready and comfortable in
your bedroom. You are quite sure you would not like me to help you to get
into bed?”
“Quite sure, thank you.”
“Very well, ma’am, then I think with your permission I’ll go to Leah; I
am not at all nervous with the insane, but Leah, strong as she looks,
gets quite overpowered at times.”
“But surely Leah has not the care of Mrs. Cameron by herself?” asked
Nance. The words were almost forced from her, for she had the greatest
dislike to discussing the matter with Hester.
“Oh! yes, ma’am, I assure you it is so—those two always sleep alone
in the Queen Anne wing. After all, it is only occasionally that it is
necessary for Leah to have assistance. Well, I’ll go to her now—I like to
be good-natured.”
“Good night,” said Nance.
“Good night, madam; I hope you’ll sleep well.”