Told it rapidly, now and then confusedly, but with omission of nothing
essential. So often she had reviewed her life, at successive stages of
culture and self-knowledge. Every step had been debated in heart and
conscience. She had so much to say, yet might not linger in the
narration, and feared to seem eager in the excuse of what she had
done. To speak of these things to one of her own sex was in itself a
great relief, yet from time to time the recollection that she was
betraying Denzil's secret struck her with cold terror. Was not this
necessity a result of her weakness? A stronger woman would perhaps have
faced the situation in some other way.
Mrs. Wade listened intently, and the story seemed to move her in no
slight degree. Lilian, anxiously watching her face, found it difficult
to interpret the look of suppressed excitement. Censure she could not
read there; pain, if ever visible, merely flitted over brow and lips;
at moments she half believed that her hearer was exulting in this
defiance of accepted morality--what else could be the significance of
that flash in the eyes; that quiver of the nostrils--all but a
triumphant smile? They sat close to each other, Lilian in the low
basket-chair, the widow on a higher seat, and when the story came to an
end, their hands met.
"How can I save Denzil?" was Lilian's last word. "Anything--any
sacrifice! If this becomes known, his whole life is ruined!"
Mrs. Wade pressed the soft, cold fingers, and kept a thoughtful silence.
"It's a strange coincidence," she said at length, "very strange that
this should happen on the eve of the election."
"The secret _must_ be kept until"----
Lilian's voice failed. She looked anxiously at her friend, and added:
"What would be the result if it were known afterwards--when Denzil is
elected?"
"It's hard to say. But tell me, Lily: is there _no_ one who has been
admitted to your confidence?"
What purpose would be served by keeping back the name? Lilian's eyes
fell as she answered.
"Mr. Glazzard knows."
"Mr. Eustace Glazzard?"
Lilian explained how and when it had become necessary to make him a
sharer in the secret.
"Do you believe," Mrs. Wade asked, "that Northway really discovered you
by chance?"
"I don't know. He says so. I can only feel absolutely sure that Mr.
Glazzard has nothing to do with it."
Mrs. Wade mused doubtfully.
"Absolutely sure?"
"Oh, how is it possible? If you knew him as well as we
do!--Impossible!--He came to see us this very morning, on his way to be
married, and laughed and talked!"
"You are right, no doubt," returned the other, with quiet reassurance.
"If it wasn't chance, some obscure agency has been at work. You must
remember, Lily, that only by a miracle could you have lived on in
security."
"I have sometimes felt that," whispered the sufferer, her head falling.
"And it almost seems," went on Mrs. Wade, "as if Northway really had no
intention of using his power to extort money. To be sure, your own
income is not to be despised by a man in his position; but most rascals
would have gone to Mr. Quarrier.--He is still in love with you, I
suppose."
The last words were murmured in a tone which caused the hearer to look
up uneasily. Mrs. Wade at once averted her face, which was curiously
hard and expressionless.
"What do you think?" she said a moment after. "Would it be any use if I
had a talk with him?"
"Will you?" asked Lilian, eagerly. "You may perhaps influence him. You
can speak so well--so persuasively. I don't think he is utterly
depraved. As you say, he would have gone first to Denzil. Perhaps he
can be moved to have pity on me."
"Perhaps--but I have more faith in an appeal to his interests."
"It would be dreadful if Denzil had to live henceforth at his mercy."
"It would. But it's a matter of--of life and death."
Mrs. Wade's voice sank on those words, shaking just a little. She put
her face nearer to Lilian's, but without looking at her.
"Suppose no argument will prevail with him, dear?" she continued in
that low, tremulous tone. "Suppose he persists in claiming you?"
The voice had a strange effect upon Lilian's nerves. She shook with
agitation, and drew away a little.
"He cannot! He has no power to take me! At the worst, we can only be
driven back into solitude."
"True, dear; but it would not be the same kind of solitude as before.
Think of the huge scandal, the utter ruin of brilliant prospects."
Lilian lay back and moaned in anguish. Her eyes were closed, and in
that moment Mrs. Wade gazed at her for a moment only; then the widow
rose from her chair, and spoke in a voice of encouragement.
"I will see him, Lily. You remain here; I'll call him into the
dining-room."
She stepped to the window, and saw that Northway was standing only at a
little distance. After meditating for a minute or two, she left the
room very quietly, crossed the passage, and entered the room opposite,
where she generally took her meals. Here again she went to the window,
and again had a good view of the man on guard. A smile rose to her face.
Then she went out and signalled to Northway, who approached in an
embarrassed way, doing his best to hold his head up and look dignified.
Mrs. Wade regarded him with contemptuous amusement, but was careful to
show nothing of this; her face and tone as she greeted him expressed
more than civility--all but deference.
"Will you do me the kindness to enter for a few minutes, Mr. Northway?"
He doffed his hat, smiled sourly, and followed her into the little
dining-room. But as she was closing the door, he interfered.
"Excuse me--I don't want that lady to go away until I have seen her
again."
Mrs. Wade none the less closed the door, holding herself with
imperturbable politeness.
"She is resting in the next room. I give you my word, Mr. Northway,
that you will find her there when our conversation is over."
He looked about him with sullen uneasiness, but could not resist this
lady's manner.
"Pray sit down. Quite a spring day, isn't it?"
Her tone was melancholy, tempered with the consideration of a hostess.
Northway seated himself much as if he were in church. He tried to
examine Mrs. Wade's face, but could not meet her look. She, in the
meantime, had got the young man's visage by heart, had studied the
meaning of every lineament--narrow eyes, sunken cheeks, forehead
indicative of conceited intelligence, lips as clearly expressive of
another characteristic. Here, at all events, was a creature she could
manage--an instrument--though to what purpose she was not yet perfectly
clear.
"Mr. Northway, I have been listening to a sad, sad story."
"Yes, it is sad," he muttered, feeling his inferiority to this
soft-spoken woman, and moving his legs awkwardly.
"I must mention to you that my name is Mrs. Wade. I have known Lilian
since she came to live at Polterham--only since then. That's a very
short time ago, but we have seen a good deal of each other, and have
become intimate friends. I need not tell you that I never had the
faintest suspicion of what I have just learnt."
This was said certainly not in a voice of indignation but with a
sadness which implied anything but approval. Northway, after trying to
hold his hat in a becoming way, placed it on the floor, clicking with
his tongue the while and betraying much nervousness.
"You are of course aware," pursued the lady, "that Mr. Denzil Quarrier
is Liberal candidate for this borough?"
"Yes, I know."
"Until to-day, he had every prospect of being elected. It is a shocking
thing--I hardly know how to express myself about it."
"If this gets known," said Northway, "I suppose he has no chance?"
"How would it be possible to vote for a man who has outraged the law on
which all social life is based? He would retire immediately--no doubt."
Regarding this event as certain in any case, the listener merely nodded.
"That, I dare say, doesn't interest you?"
"I take no part in politics."
"And it is quite a matter of indifference to you whether Mr. Quarrier's
career is ruined or not?"
"I don't see why I should think much about a man who has injured me as
he has."
"No," conceded Mrs. Wade, sadly. "I understand that you have nothing
whatever in view but recovering your wife?"
"That's all I want."
"And yet, Mr. Northway, I'm sure you see how very difficult it will be
for you to gain this end."
She leaned towards him sympathetically. Northway shuffled, sucked in
his cheeks, and spoke in as civil a tone as he could command.
"There are difficulties, I know. I don't ask her to come at once and
live with me. I couldn't expect that. But I am determined she sha'n't
go back to Mr. Quarrier. I have a right to forbid it."
"Indeed--abstractly speaking--I think you have," murmured Mrs. Wade,
with a glance towards the door. "But I grieve to tell you that there
seems to me no possibility of preventing her return."
"I shall have to use what means I can. You say Mr. Quarrier wouldn't
care to have this made public just now."
He knew (or imagined) that the threat was idle, but it seemed to him
that Mrs. Wade, already favourably disposed, might be induced to
counsel Lilian for the avoidance of a scandal at this moment.
"Mr. Northway," replied the widow, "I almost think that he would care
less for such a disclosure _before_ this election than _after_ it."
He met her eyes, and tried to understand her. But whatever she meant,
it could be of no importance to him. Quarrier was doomed by the Tory
agent; on this knowledge he congratulated himself, in spite of the fact
that another state of things would have been more to his interest.
"I have really nothing to do with that," he replied. "My wife is living
a life of wickedness--and she shall be saved from it at once."
Mrs. Wade had much difficulty in keeping her countenance. She looked
down, and drew a deep sigh.
"That is only too true. But I fear--indeed I fear--that you won't
succeed in parting them. There is a reason--I cannot mention it."
Northway was puzzled for a moment, then his face darkened; he seemed to
understand.
"I do so wish," pursued Mrs. Wade, with a smile of sympathy, "that I
could be of some use in this sad affair. My advice--I am afraid you
will be very unwilling to listen to it."
She paused, looking at him wistfully.
"What would it be?" he asked.
"I feel so strongly--just as you do--that it is dreadful to have to
countenance such a state of things; but I am convinced that it would be
very, very _unwise_ if you went _at once_ to extremities, Mr. Northway.
I am a woman of the world; I have seen a good deal of life; if you
allowed yourself to be guided by me, you would not regret it."
"You want to save your friends from the results of their behaviour," he
replied, uneasily.
"I assure you, it's not so much that--no, I have _your_ interests in
view quite as much as theirs. Now, seeing that Lilian cannot possibly
take her place as your wife in fact, and that it is practically
impossible to part her from Mr. Quarrier, wouldn't it be well to ask
yourself what is the most prudent course that circumstances allow?"
"If it comes to that, I can always get a divorce."
Mrs. Wade reflected, but with no sign of satisfaction.
"Yes, that is open to you. You would then, of course, be enabled to
marry again.--May I ask if you are quite at ease with regard to your
prospects in life?"
The tone was so delicately impertinent that Northway missed its
significance.
"I haven't quite decided upon anything yet."
"Judging from your conversation, I should say that you will yet find a
place among active and successful men. But the beginning is everything.
If I could be of any assistance to you--I would put it to you frankly,
Mr. Northway: is it worth while sacrificing very solid possibilities to
your--your affection for a woman who has deserted you?"
He shuffled on the chair, clicked with his tongue, and looked about him
undecidedly.
"I am not to be bribed to act against my conscience," he said at length.
Mrs. Wade heard this with pleasure. The blunt, half-blustering
declaration assured her that Northway's "conscience" was on the point
of surrender.
"Now, let me tell you what I should like to do," she continued, bending
towards him. "Will you allow me to go at once and see Mr. Quarrier?"
"And tell him?"
"Yes, let him know what has happened. I quite understand," she added,
caressingly, "how very painful it would be for you to go directly to
him. Will you allow me to be your intermediary? That you and he must
meet is quite certain; may I smooth away the worst difficulties? I
could explain to him your character, your natural delicacy, your
conscientiousness. I could make him understand that he has to meet a
person quite on his own level--an educated man of honourable feeling.
After that, an interview between you would be comparatively easy. I
should be really grateful to you if you would allow me to do you this
service."
Northway was like clay in her hands. Every word had precisely the
effect on which she calculated. His forehead unwrinkled itself, his
lips hung loose like the mouth of a dog that is fondled, he tried not
to smile. Though he thought himself as far as ever from renouncing
Lilian, he began to like the idea of facing Quarrier--of exhibiting his
natural delicacy, conscientiousness, and so on. Something was in the
background, but of that he took no deliberate account.
A few minutes more, and Mrs. Wade had him entirely at her disposal. It
was arranged that, whilst she went into the town to discover Quarrier,
Northway should remain on guard, either in or about the cottage.
Luncheon would be provided for him. He promised not to molest Lilian,
on condition that she made no attempt to escape.
"She will stay where she is," Mrs. Wade assured him. "Your natural
delicacy will, I am sure, prevent you from seeking to hold conversation
with her. She is very weak, poor thing! I do hope no serious illness
will follow on this shock."
Thereupon she returned to the sitting-room, where Lilian stood in an
anguish of impatience.
"I think I shall manage it, dear," she whispered, in a tone of
affectionate encouragement. "He has consented to see Mr. Quarrier,
provided I go first and break the news."
"You, Mrs. Wade? You are going to see Denzil?"
"Dearest girl, leave it all in my hands. You cannot think what
difficulties I have overcome. If I am allowed to act freely, I shall
save you and him."
She explained the articles of truce, Lilian listening with distressful
hope.
"And I don't think he will interfere with you meanwhile. But you can
keep the door locked, you know. Annie shall bring you something to eat;
I will tell her to give him _his_ luncheon first, and then to come very
quietly with yours. It is half-past twelve. I can hardly be back in
less than an hour and a half. No doubt, Mr. Quarrier will come with me."
"How good you are, dear Mrs. Wade! Oh, if you can save him!"
"Trust me, and try to sit quietly. Now, I will be off at once."
She pressed the hand that was held to her, nodded, and left the room.