In one sense, time seemed to be standing still with me, so like were the
days that followed the one to the other. But in another sense those days
fled with awful swiftness, for they were hurrying us both, my mother and
me, to a great gulf which would soon, far too soon, lie between us.
Every afternoon Julia came to spend an hour or two with my mother; but
her arrival was always formally announced, and it was an understood
thing that I should immediately quit the room, to avoid meeting her.
There was an etiquette in her resentment which I was bound to observe.
What our circle of friends thought, had become a matter of very
secondary consideration to me; but there seemed a general disposition to
condone my offences, in view of the calamity that was hanging by a mere
thread above me. I discovered from their significant remarks that it had
been quite the fashion to visit Sark during the summer, by the Queen of
the Isles, which made the passage every Monday; and that Tardif's
cottage had been an object of attraction to many of my relatives of
every degree. Few of them had caught even a glimpse of Olivia; and I
suspected that she had kept herself well out of sight on those days when
the weekly steamer flooded the island with visitors.
I had not taken up any of my old patients again, for I was determined
that everybody should feel that my residence at home was only temporary.
But, about ten days after my return, the following note was brought to
me, directed in full to Dr. Martin Dobrée:
"A lady from England, who is only a visitor in Guernsey, will be much
obliged by Dr. Martin Dobrée calling upon her, at Rose Villa, Vauvert
Road. She is suffering from a slight indisposition; and, knowing Dr.
Senior by name and reputation, she would feel great confidence in the
skill of Dr. Senior's friend."
I wondered for an instant who the stranger could be, and how she knew
the Seniors; but, as there could be no answer to these queries without
visiting the lady, I resolved to go. Rose Villa was a house where the
rooms were let to visitors during the season, and the Vauvert Road was
scarcely five minutes' walk from our house. Julia was paying her daily
visit to my mother, and I was at a loss for something to do, so I went
at once.
I found a very handsome, fine-looking woman; dark, with hair and eyes as
black as a gypsy's, and a clear olive complexion to match. Her forehead
was low, but smooth and well-shaped; and the lower part of her face,
handsome as it was, was far more developed than the upper. There was not
a trace of refinement about her features; yet the coarseness of them was
but slightly apparent as yet. She did not strike me as having more than
a very slight ailment indeed, though she dilated fluently about her
symptoms, and affected to be afraid of fever. It is not always possible
to deny that a woman has a violent headache; but, where the pulse is all
right, and the tongue clean, it is clear enough that there is not any
thing very serious threatening her. My new patient did not inspire me
with much sympathy; but she attracted my curiosity, and interested me by
the bold style of her beauty.
"You Guernsey people are very stiff with strangers," she remarked, as I
sat opposite to her, regarding her with that close observation which is
permitted to a doctor.
"So the world says," I answered. "Of course I am no good judge, for we
Guernsey people believe ourselves as perfect as any class of the human
family. Certainly, we pride ourselves on being a little more difficult
of approach than the Jersey people. Strangers are more freely welcome
there than here, unless they bring introductions with them. If you have
any introductions, you will find Guernsey as hospitable a spot as any in
the world."
"I have been here a week," she replied, pouting her full crimson lips,
"and have not had a chance of speaking a word, except to strangers like
myself who don't know a soul."
That, then, was the cause of the little indisposition which had obtained
me the honor of attending her. I indulged myself in a mild sarcasm to
that effect, but it was lost upon her. She gazed at me solemnly with her
large black eyes, which shone like beads.
"I am really ill," she said, "but it has nothing to do with not seeing
anybody, though that's dull. There's nothing for me to do but take a
bath in the morning, and a drive in the afternoon, and go to bed very
early. Good gracious! it's enough to drive me mad!"
"Try Jersey," I suggested.
"No, I'll not try Jersey," she said. "I mean to make my way here. Don't
you know anybody, doctor, that would take pity on a poor stranger?"
"I am sorry to say no," I answered.
She frowned at that, and looked disappointed. I was about to ask her how
she knew the Seniors, when she spoke again.
"Do you have many visitors come to Guernsey late in the autumn, as late
as October?" she inquired.
"Not many," I answered; "a few may arrive who intend to winter here."
"A dear young friend of mine came here last autumn," she said, "alone,
as I am, and I've been wondering, ever since I've been here, however she
would get along among such a set of stiff, formal, stand-offish folks.
She had not money enough for a dash, or that would make a difference, I
suppose."
"Not the least," I replied, "if your friend came without any
introductions."
"What a dreary winter she'd have!" pursued my patient, with a tone of
exultation. "She was quite young, and as pretty as a picture. All the
young men would know her, I'll be bound, and you among them, Dr. Martin.
Any woman who isn't a fright gets stared at enough to be known again."
Could this woman know any thing of Olivia? I looked at her more
earnestly and critically. She was not a person I should like Olivia to
have any thing to do with. A coarse, ill-bred, bold woman, whose eyes
met mine unabashed, and did not blink under my scrutiny. Could she be
Olivia's step-mother, who had been the ruin of her life?
"I'd bet a hundred to one you know her," she said, laughing and showing
all her white teeth. "A girl like her couldn't go about a little poky
place like this without all the young men knowing her. Perhaps she left
the island in the spring. I have asked at all the drapers' shops, but
nobody recollects her. I've very good news for her if I could find
her--a slim, middle-sized girl, with a clear, fair skin, and gray eyes,
and hair of a bright brown. Stay, I can show you her photograph."
She put into my hands an exquisite portrait of Olivia, taken in
Florence. There was an expression of quiet mournfulness in the face,
which touched me to the core of my heart. I could not put it down and
speak indifferently about it. My heart beat wildly, and I felt tempted
to run off with the treasure and return no more to this woman.
"Ah! you recognize her!" she exclaimed triumphantly.
"I never saw such a person in Guernsey," I answered, looking steadily
into her face. A sullen and gloomy expression came across it, and she
snatched the portrait out of my hand.
"You want to keep it a secret," she said, "but I defy you to do it. I am
come here to find her, and find her I will. She hasn't drowned herself,
and the earth hasn't swallowed her up. I've traced her as far as here,
and that I tell you. She crossed in the Southampton boat one dreadfully
stormy night last October--the only lady passenger--and the stewardess
recollects her well. She landed here. You must know something about
her."
"I assure you I never saw that girl here," I replied, evasively. "What
inquiries have you made after her?"
"I've inquired here, and there, and everywhere," she said. "I've done
nothing else ever since I came. It is of great importance to her, as
well as to me, that I should find her. It's a very anxious thing when a
girl like that disappears and is never heard of again, all because she
has a little difference with her friends. If you could help me to find
her you would do her family a very great service."
"Why do you fix upon me?" I inquired. "Why did you not send for one of
the resident doctors? I left Guernsey some time ago."
"You were here last winter," she said; "and you're a young man, and
would notice her more."
"There are other young doctors in Guernsey," I remarked.
"Ah! but you've been in London," she answered, "and I know something of
Dr. Senior. When you are in a strange place you catch at any chance of
an acquaintance."
"Come, be candid with me," I said. "Did not Messrs. Scott and Brown send
you here?"
The suddenness of my question took her off her guard and startled her.
She hesitated, stammered, and finally denied it with more than natural
emphasis.
"I could take my oath I don't know any such persons," she answered. "I
don't know whom you mean, or what you mean. All I want is quite honest.
There is a fortune waiting for that poor girl, and I want to take her
back to those who love her, and are ready to forgive and forget every
thing. I feel sure you know something of her. But no body except me and
her other friends have any thing to do with it."
"Well," I said, rising to take my leave, "all the information I can give
you is, that I never saw such a person here, either last winter or
since. It is quite possible she went on to Jersey, or to Granville, when
the storm was over. That she did not stay in Guernsey, I am quite sure."
I went away in a fever of anxiety. The woman, who was certainly not a
lady, had inspired me with a repugnance that I could not describe. There
was an ingrain coarseness about her--a vulgarity excessively distasteful
to me as in any way connected with Olivia. The mystery which surrounded
her was made the deeper by it. Surely, this person could not be related
to Olivia! I tried to guess in what relationship to her she could
possibly stand. There was the indefinable delicacy and refinement of a
lady, altogether independent of her surroundings, so apparent in Olivia,
that I could not imagine her as connected by blood with this woman. Yet
why and how should such a person have any right to pursue her? I felt
more chafed than I had ever done about Olivia's secret.
I tried to satisfy myself with the reflection that I had put Tardif on
his guard, and that he would protect her. But that did not set my mind
at ease. I never knew a mother yet who believed that any other woman
could nurse her sick child as well as herself; and I could not be
persuaded that even Tardif would shield Olivia from danger and trouble
as I could, if I were only allowed the privilege. Yet my promise to
Julia bound me to hold no communication with her. Besides, this was
surely no time to occupy myself with any other woman in the world than
my mother. She herself, good, and amiable, and self-forgetting, as she
was, might feel a pang of jealousy, and I ought not to be the one to add
a single drop of bitterness to the cup she was drinking.
On the other hand, I was distracted at the thought that this stranger
might discover the place of Olivia's retreat, from which there was no
chance of escape if it were once discovered. A hiding-place like Sark
becomes a trap as soon as it is traced out. Should this woman catch the
echo of those rumors which had circulated so widely through Guernsey
less than three months ago--and any chance conversation with one of our
own people might bring them to her ears--then farewell to Olivia's
safety and concealment. Here was the squall which had been foretold by
Jack. I cursed the idle curiosity of mine which had exposed her to this
danger.
I had strolled down some of the quieter streets of the town while I was
turning this affair over in my mind, and now, as I crossed the end of
Rue Haute, I caught sight of Kate Daltrey turning into a milliner's
shop. There was every reasonable probability that she would not come out
again soon, for I saw a bonnet reached out of the window. If she were
gone to buy a bonnet, she was safe for half an hour, and Julia would be
alone. I had felt a strong desire to see Julia ever since I returned
home. My mind was made up on the spot. I knew her so well as to be
certain that, if I found her in a gentle mood, she would, at any rate,
release me from the promise she had extorted from me when she was in the
first heat of her anger and disappointment. It was a chance worth
trying. If I were free to declare to Olivia my love for her, I should
establish a claim upon her full confidence, and we could laugh at
further difficulties. She was of age, and, therefore, mistress of
herself. Her friends, represented by this odious woman, could have no
legal authority over her.
I turned shortly up a side-street, and walked as fast as I could toward
the house which was to have been our home. By a bold stroke I might
reach Julia's presence. I rang, and the maid who answered the bell
opened wide eyes of astonishment at seeing me there. I passed by
quickly.
"I wish to speak to Miss Dobrée," I said. "Is she in the drawing-room?"
"Yes, sir," she answered, in a hesitating tone.
I waited for nothing more, but knocked at the drawing-room door for
myself, and heard Julia call, "Come in."