He came in while she was still trying to compose herself for the
struggle she anticipated; and because she had not yet made any headway,
he saw at once that something alarming had happened.
He glanced at the envelope lying on the table, then at the open letter
in her hand, and then at her face.
“What is the matter?... Have you had bad news?”
For one dreadful moment, observing the foreign stamp, he thought
something might have happened to Ethel, who was taking her month’s
holiday on the Continent. When Hal looked blankly into his face, as if
quite unable to tell him, he added hurriedly:
“Is your letter about Ethel?... Is she ill?”
“No, it is not Ethel,” Hal answered, noticing, in spite of her
distress, his unconcealed anxiety. “Some one is ill, but it is not
Ethel.”
“Is it Lorraine?”
He spoke with quiet, kindly concern now, being reassured concerning the
swift dread that had sized him.
“Yes,” Hal said nervously. “She is very ill. Dudley, I must go to her
at once.”
She got up as if she could not bear the strain seated, and moved away
to the window.
“It’s all rather terrible,” speaking hurriedly; “but don’t... don’t...
be upset about it. I can’t bear it. I _must_ go, whatever you say, and
I want you to help me.”
“What is the matter?” He came close to her and tried to see her face.
“What has happened, Hal?”
“Lorry is in trouble.” She was half crying now; “I have had a letter
from Jean. She has told me something I did not know. I did not even
suspect it. But I must go. You will surely see that I must go, Dudley.”
“Tell me what it is,” he said, in a voice so kind, she turned and
looked into his face, almost in surprise. He met her eyes, and, reading
all the distress there, he added:
“Don’t be afraid, Hal. I know I was an awful prig a little while ago,
but... but... it’s not the same since Doris jilted me, and since Basil
died. I see many things differently now. Tell me Lorraine’s trouble.”
“She is so ill, because if she lives until next December she will have
a little one. Oh, do you understand, Dudley? She is there all alone,
because she made a mess of her life and is obliged to hide. I must go
to her. You will help me, won’t you?”
She glanced at him doubtfully, and then a swift relief seemed to fill
her face.
“Yes, certainly you must go,” he said gravely; “if Jean says she is ill
now, I think you should go at once, and see for yourself just how
things are.”
“Oh, how good of you. I was afraid you would be angry and object.”
He smiled a little sadly.
“I’ve enough money in hand for your ticket. You can catch the early
boat train, and I’ll send some more by tomorrow’s post. Had you better
see Mr. Elliott about being absent from the office for a day or two, or
shall I see him in the morning?”
“He won’t mind. I’ve got everything straight since I came back, and
Miss White will do my work for a day or two. If you would see him in
the morning, and just tell him Miss Vivian is very ill and I was sent
for. He knows what friends we are, and would understand.”
“Very well. Now you must have some dinner, and get to bed, for you will
have a long, anxious day tomorrow.”
In a sudden rush of feeling, she put her hands on his shoulders and
kissed him.
“I’m so grateful,” she said, in a quivering voice. “I can’t tell you.
It has all come upon me as a shock. I had not the faintest suspicion.”
It was not natural to him to be demonstrative, and he only turned away
with a slight embarrassment, saying:
“I’m sure you hadn’t. But I feel I can trust you now, Hal, to be
discreet as well as quixotic. Your mission, if one can call it such,
will need both.”
Then he sought to distract her mind for the present, and while they
dined he talked of many things to interest her.
“Do you know that Alymer Hermon has just got the chance of his life?”
he told her, before they rose. “I heard today he is to appear with Hall
in this big libel case. Sir James Jameson told me at the Club. He said
Hall had taken a great fancy to him, and if he does really well over
this case he’s going to take him up. He is very fortunate. Not one man
in a thousand would get such a chance at his age. I hope he will do
well; I like him; and if he isn’t a success over this he may never get
such an opportunity again.”
“When does the case come on?”
“Almost at once, I think, but it probably will not last more than two
or three days.”
When Hal said good-night to him, she remarked shyly:
“I heard from Ethel last night. She loves the Austrian Tyrol. She said
she hoped you were better for your trip to Norway.”
His forehead contracted a little, and he did not look up from the book
he had just opened.
“Is she better herself? Is she any happier?”
Hal looked thoughtfully into the fire.
“I think she is very lonely. I don’t think she will be much happier
until... until... there is some one to take Basil’s place.”
“No one can do that.” He spoke a little shortly. “Basil was a hero. I
do not know how she is ever to love a lesser man.”
“If she loved a man, she would easily see heroic qualities in him. She
could not love a man who was without them; but that does not mean he
need actually be a hero by any means.”
She longed to say more, but was diffident of doing greater harm than
good. At last she ventured:
“I have sometimes thought she has a warm corner in her heart for you,
Dudley.”
“For me!...” He gave a low, harsh laugh for very misery. “No; she
despises me. She has done for some time. I’m sorry. I’d change it if I
could, but it’s too late now.”
Hal moved towards the door.
“It is rather a slur on Ethel to suggest that she could possibly
despise Basil’s best friend. Don’t let an idea like that take root,
Dudley. ‘Lookers on see most of the game,’ you know, and what I have
seen has suggested quite differently. Good-night.”
“Good-night. Try to sleep. I’ll take you to Charing Cross myself.”
The next morning Hal started off alone, to find her way to Lorraine’s
hiding-place, and give her what comfort of friendship she could.
And all the time she asked herself with harried thoughts, “Who has
brought this trouble into Lorraine’s life?”
And at the back of her mind was the dread premonition “Was it indeed
Alymer Hermon?”