On Monday morning, the strain on Mrs. Gallilee’s powers of patient
endurance came to an end. With the help of Mr. Null’s arm, she was
able to get downstairs to the library. On Tuesday, there would be no
objection to her going out for a drive. Mr. Null left her, restored to
her equable flow of spirits. He had asked if she wished to have somebody
to keep her company--and she had answered briskly, “Not on any account!
I prefer being alone.”
On the morning of Saturday, she had received Mr. Le Frank’s letter; but
she had not then recovered sufficiently to be able to read it through.
She could now take it up again, and get to the end.
Other women might have been alarmed by the atrocious wickedness of the
conspiracy which the music-master had planned. Mrs. Gallilee was only
offended. That he should think her capable--in her social position--of
favouring such a plot as he had suggested, was an insult which she
was determined neither to forgive nor forget. Fortunately, she had not
committed herself in writing; he could produce no proof of the relations
that had existed between them. The first and best use to make of her
recovery would be to dismiss him--after paying his expenses, privately
and prudently, in money instead of by cheque.
In the meantime, the man’s insolence had left its revolting impression
on her mind. The one way to remove it was to find some agreeable
occupation for her thoughts.
Look at your library table, learned lady, and take the appropriate means
of relief that it offers. See the lively modern parasites that infest
Science, eager to invite your attention to their little crawling selves.
Follow scientific inquiry, rushing into print to proclaim its own
importance, and to declare any human being, who ventures to doubt or
differ, a fanatic or a fool. Respect the leaders of public opinion,
writing notices of professors, who have made discoveries not yet tried
by time, not yet universally accepted even by their brethren, in terms
which would be exaggerated if they were applied to Newton or to Bacon.
Submit to lectures and addresses by dozens which, if they prove nothing
else, prove that what was scientific knowledge some years since; is
scientific ignorance now--and that what is scientific knowledge now,
may be scientific ignorance in some years more. Absorb your mind in
controversies and discussions, in which Mr. Always Right and Mr. Never
Wrong exhibit the natural tendency of man to believe in himself, in the
most rampant stage of development that the world has yet seen. And when
you have done all this, doubt not that you have made a good use of your
time. You have discovered what the gentle wisdom of FARADAY saw and
deplored, when he warned the science of his day in words which should
live for ever: “The first and last step in the education of the judgment
is--Humility.” Having agreeably occupied her mind with subjects that
were worthy of it, Mrs. Gallilee rose to seek a little physical relief
by walking up and down the room.
Passing and repassing the bookcases, she noticed a remote corner devoted
to miscellaneous literature. A volume in faded binding of sky-blue, had
been placed upside down. She looked at the book before she put it in
its right position. The title was “Gallery of British Beauty.” Among the
illustrations--long since forgotten--appeared her own portrait, when she
was a girl of Carmina’s age.
A faintly contemptuous smile parted her hard lips, provoked by the
recollections of her youth.
What a fool she had been, at that early period of her life! In those
days, she had trembled with pleasure at the singing of a famous Italian
tenor; she had flown into a passion when a new dress proved to be a
misfit, on the evening of a ball; she had given money to beggars in the
street; she had fallen in love with a poor young man, and had terrified
her weak-minded hysterical mother, by threatening to commit suicide
when the beloved object was forbidden the house. Comparing the girl of
seventeen with the matured and cultivated woman of later years, what a
matchless example Mrs. Gallilee presented of the healthy influence of
education, directed to scientific pursuits! “Ah!” she thought, as she
put the book back in its place, “my girls will have reason to thank me
when they grow up; they have had a mother who has done her duty.”
She took a few more turns up and down the room. The sky had cleared
again; a golden gleam of sunlight drew her to the window. The next
moment she regretted even this concession to human weakness. A
disagreeable association presented itself, and arrested the pleasant
flow of her thoughts. Mr. Gallilee appeared on the door-step; leaving
the house on foot, and carrying a large brown-paper parcel under his
arm.
With servants at his disposal, why was he carrying the parcel himself?
The time had been, when Mrs. Gallilee would have tapped at the window,
and would have insisted on his instantly returning and answering the
question. But his conduct, since the catastrophe in Carmina’s room,
had produced a complete estrangement between the married pair. All his
inquiries after his wife’s health had been made by deputy. When he was
not in the schoolroom with the children, he was at his club. Until he
came to his senses, and made humble apology, no earthly consideration
would induce Mrs. Gallilee to take the slightest notice of him.
She returned to her reading.
The footman came in, with two letters--one arriving by post; the other
having been dropped into the box by private messenger. Communications
of this latter sort proceeded, not unfrequently, from creditors. Mrs.
Gallilee opened the stamped letter first.
It contained nothing more important than a few lines from a daily
governess, whom she had engaged until a successor to Miss Minerva could
be found. In obedience to Mrs. Gallilee’s instructions, the governess
would begin her attendance at ten o’clock on the next morning.
The second letter was of a very different kind. It related the disaster
which had befallen Mr. Le Frank.
Mr. Null was the writer. As Miss Carmina’s medical attendant, it was
his duty to inform her guardian that her health had been unfavourably
affected by an alarm in the house. Having described the nature of the
alarm, he proceeded in these words: “You will, I fear, lose the services
of your present music-master. Inquiries made this morning at the
hospital, and reported to me, appear to suggest serious results. The
wounded man’s constitution is in an unhealthy state; the surgeons are
not sure of being able to save two of the fingers. I will do myself the
honour of calling to-morrow before you go out for your drive.”
The impression produced by this intelligence on the lady to whom it was
addressed, can only be reported in her own words. She--who knew, on the
best scientific authority, that the world had created itself--completely
lost her head, and actually said, “Thank God!”
For weeks to come--perhaps for months if the surgeons’ forebodings were
fulfilled--Mrs. Gallilee had got rid of Mr. Le Frank. In that moment
of infinite relief, if her husband had presented himself, it is even
possible that he might have been forgiven.
As it was, Mr. Gallilee returned late in the afternoon; entered his
own domain of the smoking-room; and left the house again five minutes
afterwards. Joseph officiously opened the door for him; and Joseph was
surprised, precisely as his mistress had been surprised. Mr. Gallilee
had a large brown paper parcel under his arm--the second which he
had taken out of the house with his own hands! Moreover, he looked
excessively confused when the footman discovered him. That night, he was
late in returning from the club. Joseph (now on the watch) observed that
he was not steady on his legs--and drew his own conclusions accordingly.
Punctual to her time, on the next morning, the new governess arrived.
Mrs. Gallilee received her, and sent for the children.
The maid in charge of them appeared alone. She had no doubt that the
young ladies would be back directly. The master had taken them out for a
little walk, before they began their lessons. He had been informed
that the lady who had been appointed to teach them would arrive at ten
o’clock. And what had he said? He had said, “Very good.”
The half-hour struck--eleven o’clock struck--and neither the father nor
the children returned. Ten minutes later, someone rang the door bell.
The door being duly opened, nobody appeared on the house-step. Joseph
looked into the letter-box, and found a note addressed to his mistress,
in his master’s handwriting. He immediately delivered it.
Hitherto, Mrs. Gallilee had only been anxious. Joseph, waiting for
events outside the door, heard the bell rung furiously; and found his
mistress (as he forcibly described it) “like a woman gone distracted.”
Not without reason--to do her justice. Mr. Gallilee’s method of
relieving his wife’s anxiety was remarkable by its brevity. In one
sentence, he assured her that there was no need to feel alarmed. In
another, he mentioned that he had taken the girls away with him for a
change of air. And then he signed his initials--J. G.
Every servant in the house was summoned to the library, when Mrs.
Gallilee had in some degree recovered herself.
One after another they were strictly examined; and one after another
they had no evidence to give--excepting the maid who had been present
when the master took the young ladies away. The little she had to tell,
pointed to the inference that he had not admitted the girls to his
confidence before they left the house. Maria had submitted, without
appearing to be particularly pleased at the prospect of so early a walk.
Zo (never ready to exert either her intelligence or her legs) had openly
declared that she would rather stay at home. To this the master had
answered, “Get your things on directly!”--and had said it so sharply
that Miss Zoe stared at him in astonishment. Had they taken anything
with them--a travelling bag for instance? They had taken nothing, except
Mr. Gallilee’s umbrella. Who had seen Mr. Gallilee last, on the previous
night? Joseph had seen him last. The lower classes in England have one,
and but one, true feeling of sympathy with the higher classes. The man
above them appeals to their hearts, and merits their true service, when
he is unsteady on his legs. Joseph nobly confined his evidence to what
he had observed some hours previously: he mentioned the parcel. Mrs.
Gallilee’s keen perception, quickened by her own experience at the
window, arrived at the truth. Those two bulky packages must have
contained clothes--left, in anticipation of the journey, under the care
of an accomplice. It was impossible that Mr. Gallilee could have got
at the girls’ dresses and linen, and have made the necessary selections
from them, without a woman’s assistance. The female servants were
examined again. Each one of them positively asserted her innocence.
Mrs. Gallilee threatened to send for the police. The indignant women all
cried in chorus, “Search our boxes!” Mrs. Gallilee took a wiser course.
She sent to the lawyers who had been recommended to her by Mr. Null.
The messenger had just been despatched, when Mr. Null himself, in
performance of yesterday’s engagement, called at the house.
He, too, was agitated. It was impossible that he could have heard what
had happened. Was he the bearer of bad news? Mrs. Gallilee thought of
Carmina first, and then of Mr. Le Frank.
“Prepare for a surprise,” Mr. Null began, “a joyful surprise, Mrs.
Gallilee! I have received a telegram from your son.”
He handed it to her as he spoke.
“September 6th. Arrived at Quebec, and received information of Carmina’s
illness. Shall catch the Boston steamer, and sail to-morrow for
Liverpool. Break the news gently to C. For God’s sake send telegram to
meet me at Queenstown.”
It was then the 7th of September. If all went well, Ovid might be in
London in ten days more.