A SUMMONS.
Nance received Crossley’s letter about noon on the following day. Lady
Georgina was, of course, still with her. Nance and this lady were
standing by the drawing-room window when Jacob brought in the letter.
Before he left the room, he perceived the death like hue which spread
over his young mistress’s face.
“When all is said and done, mine is an odious calling,” he muttered to
himself. He went straight to the housekeeper’s room.
“Mrs. Ferguson,” he said, “even at the risk of incurring your
displeasure, I must ask you to give me another holiday.”
“What, Jacob, another! Really, what servants are coming to in this day
passes belief. The old business, is it?”
“Yes, ma’am, the old trouble,” answered Jacob.
“Well, well, I am sorry for you. You’ll be back to-morrow?”
“Certain, sure, ma’am, and I am much obliged.”
Jacob left the room.
He had scarcely done so when the drawing-room bell summoned him to appear
there.
Mrs. Rowton was standing by a table—she was taking up and putting down
some new magazines—there was an abstracted and somewhat alarmed look on
her face. When Jacob appeared she started.
“Did you ring, madam?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “Will you, please, go to the stables at once, and
desire the coachman to bring the carriage round to meet the next train to
town?”
“The covered carriage, madam?”
“Yes, the brougham with the basket on top for luggage.”
“Very well, madam; the next train leaves for town at 3.30,” answered
Jacob.
“Desire the carriage to be round in good time.”
“Now it is my turn,” said Lady Georgina, who had sat quite silent during
all this time by the window. She approached the table where Nance was
standing. “May I ask, Nancy Rowton,” she said, “if that mysterious letter
was from your husband?”
“It was not,” answered Nance.
“Ah! that is strange; and yet the letter was a summons for you to go to
town?”
“Yes, it was,” replied Nance.
“And not from your husband?”
“No.”
“You are going to obey the summons, child?”
“I am, Lady Georgina.”
“You won’t tell me what it is all about?”
“I cannot; you must not question me.”
“Then, at least understand one thing,” said Lady Georgina in a determined
voice—“where you go, I go.”
“You!” answered Nance, looking up with a queer expression in her eyes.
Her mouth suddenly twitched with emotion which she could scarcely control.
“No,” she said, “you are kind—you are very kind, you are my best friend
after my husband, but I must do this thing alone. It is part of the agony
that it must be done alone and without help; I must consult no one. I
must go to town by myself.”
“My dear little girl, you must do nothing of the kind. I have no wish to
spy into your secret. You can see whoever you wish to see by yourself,
but your husband put you into my care, and where you go, Nancy, I go.”
“As you please; I have no strength to argue about the matter,” said Nancy
in a faint voice.
She went up to her room to put on her travelling cloak and bonnet, and
found Hester waiting for her. Hester was neatly dressed in her travelling
things.
“Of course you want me to go with you, madam?” she said.
“I think not, Hester,” replied Nance, “If I stay in town for any length
of time I will telegraph to you to join me, but you are not to accompany
me to-day.”
“As you please, of course, madam. I have packed everything you will
require, and, of course, shall be in readiness to go to town the moment
I receive your telegram.” Hester took off her hat as she spoke. Her face
was very pale.
“You don’t look well,” said Nancy, whose heart was never too much
troubled to forget to notice the pains and sorrows of others.
“I have been having bad head-aches lately,” replied the girl, turning
crimson; then she added after a pause, as she held out her mistress’s
cloak for her to put on, “I don’t know if Mrs. Ferguson acquainted you
with the fact, madam, that I must leave your service.”
“Indeed,” replied Nance. She would have liked to have added that she was
sorry, but the words were arrested on her lips. She knew in her heart of
hearts that Hester’s absence would be a relief.
“Yes, madam,” continued the girl, “I am leaving in about a fortnight.
Mrs. Ferguson says she can easily supply my place, and as I am to be
married——”
“Married!” cried Nancy; “you are leaving because of that?”
“Yes, madam, I expect to be married in a fortnight from now.”
The sound of wheels was heard crunching the gravel outside.
“I must go,” said Nance, catching up her gloves and muff. “Good-bye,
Hester; you can tell me all about your future prospects when next we
meet—who your husband is to be, and all about it. Good-bye.”
Nance nodded kindly and left the room. A moment or two later, she and
Lady Georgina were driving to Pitstow station. They reached it in good
time, took their train, and presently found themselves steaming quickly
in the direction of London. They had a first-class compartment to
themselves.
“I have a fear,” said Nance suddenly, “which I cannot account for, nor
explain away.”
“You mean that you dread our dear little Murray may not be quickly
found?” said Lady Georgina.
“No,” answered Nance after a pause; “it would be wrong to deceive you or
to make you think me better than I am. I love Murray, but my fear is not
about him.”
“Then what is it about, child? Ah, you need not tell me—you are troubled
about your husband?”
“He is unhappy, and he is away. I am much, much troubled.”
“You are naturally nervous,” replied Lady Georgina. “Now, if you had
known that good Adrian Rowton as long as I have, nothing that he did or
said would surprise you—in short, you would cease to be nervous about one
who is unaccountable. His ways are unaccountable, so is his mind, so also
doubtless is his heart.”
“No, no, there never was a heart like his,” interrupted Nance.
“It shows its sunny side to you,” replied Lady Georgina; “to others——”
she paused, her bright dancing eyes became grave. “Adrian comes of an
eccentric family,” she continued, “eccentric to the verge—yes, I may as
well say it, of insanity. His sister, poor thing! has been insane for
years. Report whispers that Adrian gave her a dreadful shock, soon after
Murray’s birth. Anyhow she went completely off her head, and has been
insane ever since. As to Adrian himself, he has his own mad points. Oh,
my dear child, there have been occasions when I have thought him as mad
as a hatter, but all the same, I repeat once again, I have never met a
more fascinating, a braver or more attractive man.”
“Thank you for those good words,” Nance said impulsively.
She left her seat, crossed the carriage, put her arms round Lady
Georgina’s neck, and kissed her.
“Thank you,” she repeated; “when even for a moment you see my husband as
he really is, you give me inexpressible comfort.”
“It is my honest opinion,” continued Lady Georgina, “that the only very
great trouble you have to bear at present is the mysterious absence of
dear little Murray. Your husband is doubtless taking steps to discover
his whereabouts in town. As to his conduct in other respects, remember
that I think nothing at all about it. He is queer, but not mad; he will
never kick over the traces, or go too far in any one direction. You will
most likely meet him to-morrow or the next day in London. By the way, do
you know his address?”
“No.”
“I thought as much. Does he never give you his address when he leaves
you?”
“He has not done so hitherto.”
“Again I may say, that I thought as much,” replied Lady Georgina,
tapping her foot impatiently. “Did you really have no directions where
letters are to be forwarded to?”
“No.”
“Where do you propose to spend the night yourself?”
“I cannot tell, Lady Georgina. I only know that I am going to town; after
that all is blank.”
“Then, my dear, it is a blessing I am with you. We will put up at the
Universal Hotel. It is large and central, and the very moment we take
rooms there we will wire to Rowton Heights to tell the servants our
whereabouts.”