Pierce Leigh returned home after a long weary day of watching. From
careful thought and balancing of the matter, he had long come to the
conclusion that Claud Wilton's ideas were right, and that John Garstang
knew where his cousin was. But suspicion was not certainty, and though
he told himself that he had no right or reason in his conduct, he could
not refrain from spending all the time he could spare from his
professional work in town--work that was growing rapidly--in trying to
get some news of the missing girl.
He was more amenable now, and ready to discuss the matter with his
sister, who remained Kate's champion and declared that she was sure
there was some foul play in the matter; but he would not give way, and
laughed bitterly whenever Jenny aired her optimism, and said she was
sure that all would end happily after all.
"Silly child!" he said bitterly. "If Miss Wilton was the victim of foul
play--which I do not believe--she could have found some means of
communicating with her friends."
"But she had no friends, Pierce," cried Jenny. "She told me so more
than once."
"She had you."
"Oh, I don't count, dear; I was only an acquaintance, and it had not had
time to ripen into affection on her side. I soon began to love her, but
I don't think she cared much for me."
"Ah, it was a great mistake," sighed Leigh.
"What was?" cried Jenny sharply.
"Our going down to Northwood. I lost a thousand pounds by the
transaction."
"And gained the dearest girl in the world to love."
"Don't talk absurdly, child," said Leigh, firmly. "I beg that you will
not speak to me in that tone about Miss Wilton. Has Claud been again?"
"I beg that you will not speak to me in that tone about Mr Wilton,"
said Jenny, with a mischievous look at her brother, who glanced at her
sharply.
"Claud Wilton is not such a bad fellow after all, I begin to think. All
that horsey caddishness will, I daresay, wear off."
"I am sorry for the poor woman who has to rub it off," said Jenny.
"You did not tell me if he had called."
"Yes, he did call."
"Jenny!"
"I didn't ask him to call, and he did not come to see me," said the girl
demurely. "He wanted you, and left his card. I put it in the surgery.
I think he said he had some news of his cousin."
"Indeed?" said Leigh, starting. "When was this?"
"Yesterday evening. But Pierce, dear, surely it is nothing to you.
Don't go interfering, and perhaps make two poor people unhappy."
Leigh turned upon her angrily.
"What a good little girl you would be, Jenny, if you had been born
without a tongue."
"Yes," she said, "but I should not have been half a woman, Pierce,
dear."
"Did he say when he would come again?"
"No."
"Did he say more particularly what his news was?"
"No, dear, and I did not ask him, knowing how particular you are about
my being at all intimate with him."
He gave her an angry glance, but she ignored it.
"Anyone else been?"
"Yes; there was a message from Mrs Smithers, saying she hoped you would
drop in after dinner and see her. Her daughter came--the freckly one.
The buzzing in her mother's head had begun again, and Miss Smithers says
she is sure it is the port wine, for it always comes after her mother
has been drinking port wine for a month."
"Of course. She eats and drinks twice as much as is good for her.--Did
young Wilton say anything about Northwood?"
"Yes," said Jenny, carelessly. "The new doctor has got the parish work,
but he isn't worked to death. Oh, by the way, there's a letter on the
chimney-piece."
Leigh rose and took it eagerly, frowning as he read it.
"Bad news, Pierce, dear?"
"Eh? Bad? Oh, dear no; I have to meet Dr Clifton in consultation at
three to-morrow, at Sir Montague Russell's."
"Oh! I say, Pierce dear, how rapidly you are picking up a practice!"
"Yes," he said, with a sigh; and then with an effort to be cheerful,
"How long will dinner be?"
"Half an hour," said Jenny, after a glance at the clock, "and then I
hope they will let you have a quiet evening. You have not been at home
once this week."
"Ah, yes, a quiet evening would be pleasant."
"Thinking, Pierce dear?" said Jenny, after a pause.
"Yes," he said dreamily, as he sat back with his eyes closed. "I can't
make it all fit. He rarely goes to the office, I have found that out;
and from what I can learn he must be living in the country. The house I
saw him go to has all the front blinds drawn down, and last time I rode
by I saw a woman at the gate, but I could not stop to question her--I
have no right."
"No, dear, you have no right," said Jenny, gravely. "That was only a
fancy of yours. But how strangely things do come to pass!"
Leigh started, and gazed at his sister wonderingly.
"What do you mean?" he said.
"I was only replying to your remarks, dear, about your suspicions of
this Mr Garstang."
"I? My remarks?" he said, looking at her strangely. "I said nothing."
"Why, Pierce dear, you did just now."
"No, not a word. I was asleep when you spoke."
"Asleep?"
"Yes. What is there strange in that? A man must have rest, and I have
been out for the last three nights with anxious cases. Was I talking?"
"Yes, dear," said Jenny, rising, to go behind the chair and lay her soft
little hands upon her brother's head. "Talking about that shut-up
house, and this Mr Garstang. I thought it was not possible, and that
it was very wild of you to take a house in this street so as to be near
and watch him, but nothing could have been better. You are getting as
busy as you used to be in Westminster. But Pierce, dear," she whispered
softly, "don't you think we should be happier if we were in full
confidence with one another--as we were once?"
"No," he said, gloomily, "I shall never be happy again."
"You will, dear, when some day we meet Kate, and all this mystery about
her is at an end."
"Meet Miss Wilton and her husband," he said, bitterly.
"No, dear; if I know anything of women you will never meet Kate Wilton's
husband. Pierce, dear, I am your sister, and I have been so lonely
lately, ever since we came to London. You have never quite forgiven me
all that unhappy business. Don't you think you could if you tried?"
He sat perfectly silent for a few moments, and then reached round, took
her in his arms, and kissed her long and lovingly.
In an instant she was clinging to his neck, sobbing wildly, and he had
hard work trying to soothe her.
But she changed again just as quickly, and laughed at him through her
tears.
"There," she cried, "now I feel ten years younger. Five minutes ago I
was quite an old woman. But, Pierce, you will confide in me now, and
make me quite as we used to be?"
"Yes," he said.
She wound her arms tightly round his neck, and laid her face to his.
"Then confess to me, dear," she whispered. "You do dearly love Kate
Wilton?"
He was silent for some moments, and then slowly and dreamily his words
were breathed close to her ear.
"Yes; and I shall never love again."
Jenny turned up her face and kissed him, but hid it, burning, directly
after in his breast.
"Pierce dear," she whispered, "I have no one else to talk to like this.
May I confess something now to you?"
"Why not?" he said, gently. "Confidence for confidence."
She was silent in turn for some time. Then she spoke almost in a
whisper.
"Will you be very angry, Pierce, if I tell you that I think I am
beginning to like Claud Wilton very much?"
"Like--him?" he cried, scornfully.
"I mean love him, Pierce," she said, quietly.
"Jenny! Impossible!"
"That's what I used to think, dear, but it is not."
"You foolish baby, what is there in the fellow that any woman could
love?"
"Something I've found out, dear."
"In Heaven's name, what?"
"He loves me with all his heart."
"He has no heart."
"You don't know him as I do, Pierce. He has, and a very warm one."
"Has he dared to make proposals to you again?"
"No, not a word. But he isn't like the same. It was all through you,
Pierce. I made him love me, and now he looks up to me as if I were
something he ought to worship, and--and I can't help liking him for it."
"Oh, you must not think of it," cried Leigh.
"That's what I've told myself hundreds of times, dear, but it will come,
and--and, Pierce, dear, it's very dreadful, but we can't help it when
the love comes. Do you think we can?"
She slipped from him, and dashed the tears from her eyes, for her quick
senses detected a step, and the next moment a quiet-looking maid-servant
announced the dinner.
No more was said, but the manner of sister and brother was warmer than
it had been for months; and though he made no allusions, there was a
half-reproachful, half-mocking smile on Leigh's lips when his eyes met
Jenny's.
The dinner ended, he went into their little plainly-furnished
drawing-room to steal half-an-hour's rest before hurrying off to make
the call as requested; and he had not left the house ten minutes when
there was a hurried ring at the bell.
Jenny clapped her hands, and burst into a merry laugh.
"I am glad," she cried. "No; I ought to be sorry for the poor people.
But how they are finding out what a dear, clever, old fellow Pierce is!
I wonder who this can be?"
She was not kept long in doubt, for the servant came up.
"If you please, ma'am, there's that gentleman again who called to see
master."
"What gentleman?" said Jenny, suddenly turning nervous--"Mr Wilton?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Did you tell him your master was out?"
"Yes, ma'am, and he said would you see him just a moment?"
"I'll come down," said Jenny, turning very hard and stiff; and it seemed
to be a different personage who descended to Leigh's consulting room,
where Claud was walking up and down with his hat on.
"Ah, Miss Leigh!" he cried, excitedly, as he half ran to her, with his
hands extended.
But Jenny did not seem to see them; only standing pokeresque, and gazing
at the young fellow's hat.
"Eh? What's the matter? Oh, I beg your pardon," he cried, catching it
off confusedly; "I'm so excited, I forgot. But I can't stop; I'll come
in again by and by and see your brother. Only tell him I've found her."
"Found Kate Wilton?" cried Jenny, dropping her formal manner and
catching him by the arm, his hand dropping upon hers directly.
"Yes, I'm as sure as sure. I've been on the scent for some time, and I
never could be sure; but I'm about certain now, and I want your brother
to come and help me, for he has a better right than I have to be there."
"My brother, Mr Wilton?" said Jenny, in a freezing tone.
"Oh, I say, please don't," he whispered earnestly; "I am trying so hard
to show you that I'm not such a cad as you used to think, and when you
speak to me in that way it makes me feel as if there's nothing, left to
do but enlist, and get sent off to India, or the Crimea, or somewhere,
to be killed out of the way."
"Tell me quickly, where is she?"
"I can't yet. I'm not quite sure."
"Pah!"
"Ah, you wait a bit, and you'll see; and if I do find her I shall bring
her here."
"Here?" cried Jenny, excitedly.
"Yes, why not? she likes you better than anybody in the world; he likes,
her, and--. Here, I can't stop. Good-bye; tell him I'll be back again
as soon as I can, for find her I will to-night."
"But Mr Wilton--Claud!"
"Ah!" he cried excitedly, turning to her.
"Tell me one thing."
"Everything," he cried, wildly, "if you'll speak to me like that.
Someone I thought had got her; I'm about sure now, but--I'd give
anything to stop--but I can't."
He rushed out into the street, and Jenny returned to her room and work,
trembling with a double excitement, one moment blaming herself for being
too free with her visitor, the next forgetting everything in the news.
"Oh, Pierce, dear Pierce! if it is only true," she muttered, as her work
dropped from her hands, and she sat hour after hour longing for her
brother's return. This was not till ten, when she was trembling with
excitement, and in momentary expectation of seeing Claud Wilton return
first.