Instead of keeping behind her straight home, I turned from the main
road, and with my mind full of gloomy thoughts, wandered about the dark,
quiet thoroughfares in the neighbourhood of Campden Hill until, having
walked for over an hour undecided how to act, I awoke to a consciousness
that I was before my own house.
When I entered I opened a telegram lying on the hall table, and found it
was from Lord Warnham, stating that he was leaving the Premier's
suddenly, and asking me to call at Berkeley Square at six. It was then
a quarter to six, and I saw that even by cab I must be ten minutes late
for the appointment.
"Has my wife returned, Juckes?" I asked my faithful man, who stood
ready to relieve me of hat and coat.
"Yes, sir. She returned an hour ago, and is now in the drawing-room."
My first impulse was to return to Berkeley Square without seeing her,
but unable longer to bear the suspense, I allowed Juckes to take my
things, and entered the room, where she awaited me.
"Ah! Geoffrey!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet with an expression
of joy, and coming forward to meet me. "I expected you home long ago,
dearest." And she raised her face for the habitual kiss.
"Oh," I said coldly, placing her away from me without caressing her.
"Have you been home long?"
"A long, long time," she answered, regarding my coldness with unfeigned
surprise.
"Where have you been to-day?" I inquired, rather sharply, taking up a
position on the hearthrug, with my back to the bright wood fire.
"This morning I went to Mr Praga's studio in Hornton Street, and gave
him a sitting. He is painting my portrait for the Academy, you know."
"Yes," I answered. "He told me so at the club the other day. Where
else have you been?"
"Why are you so anxious to have a complete record of my doings?" she
asked, pouting. "You seem absurdly suspicious."
I smiled bitterly. Since her return she had exchanged her tailor-made
gown for a handsome dinner-dress, and wore as her only ornament a string
of pearls, my wedding gift. She stood gazing at me with her dark blue
eyes wide-open, and brows arched in well-feigned reproach.
"You did not return to lunch," I said quietly.
"No, I went to Pont Street," she answered. "Mother was so fearfully
upset."
"Why?"
"Last night she detected Helmholtz in the act of opening a letter he had
taken from the postman. It contained a cheque, and she was compelled to
discharge him at a moment's notice."
"I understood he was quite a model servant," I said, in genuine surprise
at this latest development. To me it was astounding that a shrewd
officer like Renouf should have thus allowed himself to be caught
napping.
"Mother thought most highly of him," she went on. "But it now appears
that for the past few weeks she has had suspicions that her letters were
being tampered with, for two cheques sent by tenants for rent have been
stolen."
"I never thought very much of him," I said.
"Neither did I," she declared. "He had such a silent, cunning way, and
moved so softly, that dozens of times when I have turned suddenly I have
been quite startled to find him standing close to me. I'm glad mother
has got rid of him. She packed him off bag and baggage."
"Did he protest his innocence?"
"No. He treated her with cool indifference, placed his things in his
portmanteau leisurely, hailed a cab, and went off without asking for his
wages."
I was silent. The reason Renouf should descend to steal cheques was
inexplicable. One thing, however, appeared clear, namely, that he had
taken an unusual interest in the nature of Mrs Laing's correspondence.
To me it was a matter for congratulation that as he had been detected by
his mistress and discharged, he could not cast upon me the blame for his
betrayal.
"What did you do after lunch?" I at last inquired, returning to my
charge.
"I went shopping," she replied, smiling.
"With whom?"
"Alone."
"Were you alone the whole time?" I inquired, regarding her intently.
Her lips quivered slightly and her glance wavered. "Yes," she answered,
"I did not meet anyone I knew."
"That is a lie, Ella!" I cried.
"It is not," she stammered, pale and agitated. "I have told you the
truth."
"To prevaricate is utterly useless," I said angrily. "I followed you
through Kensington Gardens, where you were walking with your lover.
I--"
"My lover?" she cried hoarsely, in dismay. "He--he is not my lover. I
had never seen him before!"
"Then by your own admission you have abandoned all respect for me and
yourself. You are addicted to strolling alone with any idiot who
flatters you."
"I swear I do not," she retorted. "You misjudge me entirely." And she
placed her trembling hand upon my arm.
But I shook it off wrathfully, saying, "I have discovered the truth,
alas! too late. While making pretence to love me you prefer the society
of other men. I was a blind fool, or I should have discovered the fact,
plain to everybody else, that Ogle was your lover, and that you mourned
for him when he met the fate he so justly deserved."
"He never uttered one word of love to me, Geoffrey," she protested.
"How can you make such horrible charges against me when I love you so
dearly," she cried, bursting into a torrent of tears.
"Because!" I said, with emphasis, "because I have myself followed you
this evening. Surely Kensington Gardens is not the spot where a wife
should take recreation, unless clandestinely, as you have done! No,
this is not the first occasion you have lied to me, Ella; but it shall
be the last."
"The last!" she gasped, glancing up at me. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that I can have no further confidence in you, and that we are
better apart."
"You don't intend to leave me. Surely you would never be so cruel,
Geoffrey. It would kill me."
"I have loved you, Ella," I said hoarsely, after a pause, brief and full
of suspense. "No man could have loved a woman with a passion more
tender than I have done, but now that I have discovered how basely I
have been deceived, my affection has turned to hatred."
"You hate me!" she wailed. "Ah, no, you cannot--you shall not," she
cried, as, rushing towards me, she threw both arms around my neck, and,
notwithstanding my efforts to avert her, pressed her tear-stained face
to mine.