Paula was in her boudoir, writing down some notes previous to beginning
her wedding toilet, which was designed to harmonize with the simplicity
that characterized the other arrangements. She owned that it was
depriving the neighbourhood of a pageant which it had a right to expect
of her; but the circumstance was inexorable.
Mrs. Goodman entered Paula’s room immediately behind Charlotte. Perhaps
the only difference between the Paula of to-day and the Paula of last
year was an accession of thoughtfulness, natural to the circumstances in
any case, and more particularly when, as now, the bride’s isolation made
self-dependence a necessity. She was sitting in a light dressing-gown,
and her face, which was rather pale, flushed at the entrance of
Charlotte and her aunt.
‘I knew you were come,’ she said, when Charlotte stooped and kissed
her. ‘I heard you. I have done nothing this morning, and feel dreadfully
unsettled. Is all well?’
The question was put without thought, but its aptness seemed almost to
imply an intuitive knowledge of their previous conversation. ‘Yes,’ said
Charlotte tardily.
‘Well, now, Clementine shall dress you, and I can do with Milly,’
continued Paula. ‘Come along. Well, aunt--what’s the matter?--and you,
Charlotte? You look harassed.’
‘I have not slept well,’ said Charlotte.
‘And have not you slept well either, aunt? You said nothing about it at
breakfast.’
‘O, it is nothing,’ said Mrs. Goodman quickly. ‘I have been disturbed
by learning of somebody’s villainy. I am going to tell you all some time
to-day, but it is not important enough to disturb you with now.’
‘No mystery!’ argued Paula. ‘Come! it is not fair.’
‘I don’t think it is quite fair,’ said Miss De Stancy, looking from one
to the other in some distress. ‘Mrs. Goodman--I must tell her! Paula,
Mr. Som--’
‘He’s dead!’ cried Paula, sinking into a chair and turning as pale as
marble. ‘Is he dead?--tell me!’ she whispered.
‘No, no--he’s not dead--he is very well, and gone to Normandy for a
holiday!’
‘O--I am glad to hear it,’ answered Paula, with a sudden cool
mannerliness.
‘He has been misrepresented,’ said Mrs. Goodman. ‘That’s all.’
‘Well?’ said Paula, with her eyes bent on the floor.
‘I have been feeling that I ought to tell you clearly, dear Paula,’
declared her friend. ‘It is absolutely false about his telegraphing to
you for money--it is absolutely false that his character is such as that
dreadful picture represented it. There--that’s the substance of it, and
I can tell you particulars at any time.’
But Paula would not be told at any time. A dreadful sorrow sat in her
face; she insisted upon learning everything about the matter there and
then, and there was no withstanding her.
When it was all explained she said in a low tone: ‘It is that
pernicious, evil man Dare--yet why is it he?--what can he have meant
by it! Justice before generosity, even on one’s wedding-day. Before I
become any man’s wife this morning I’ll see that wretch in jail! The
affair must be sifted.... O, it was a wicked thing to serve anybody
so!--I’ll send for Cunningham Haze this moment--the culprit is even now
on the premises, I believe--acting as clerk of the works!’ The usually
well-balanced Paula was excited, and scarcely knowing what she did went
to the bell-pull.
‘Don’t act hastily, Paula,’ said her aunt. ‘Had you not better consult
Sir William? He will act for you in this.’
‘Yes--He is coming round in a few minutes,’ said Charlotte, jumping at
this happy thought of Mrs. Goodman’s. ‘He’s going to run across to see
how you are getting on. He will be here by ten.’
‘Yes--he promised last night.’
She had scarcely done speaking when the prancing of a horse was heard in
the ward below, and in a few minutes a servant announced Sir William De
Stancy.
De Stancy entered saying, ‘I have ridden across for ten minutes, as I
said I would do, to know if everything is easy and straightforward for
you. There will be time enough for me to get back and prepare if I start
shortly. Well?’
‘I am ruffled,’ said Paula, allowing him to take her hand.
‘What is it?’ said her betrothed.
As Paula did not immediately answer Mrs. Goodman beckoned to Charlotte,
and they left the room together.
‘A man has to be given in charge, or a boy, or a demon,’ she replied. ‘I
was going to do it, but you can do it better than I. He will run away if
we don’t mind.’
‘But, my dear Paula, who is it?--what has he done?’
‘It is Dare--that young man you see out there against the sky.’ She
looked from the window sideways towards the new wing, on the roof of
which Dare was walking prominently about, after having assisted two of
the workmen in putting a red streamer on the tallest scaffold-pole. ‘You
must send instantly for Mr. Cunningham Haze!’
‘My dearest Paula,’ repeated De Stancy faintly, his complexion changing
to that of a man who had died.
‘Please send for Mr. Haze at once,’ returned Paula, with graceful
firmness. ‘I said I would be just to a wronged man before I was generous
to you--and I will. That lad Dare--to take a practical view of it--has
attempted to defraud me of one hundred pounds sterling, and he shall
suffer. I won’t tell you what he has done besides, for though it is
worse, it is less tangible. When he is handcuffed and sent off to jail
I’ll proceed with my dressing. Will you ring the bell?’
‘Had you not better consider?’ began De Stancy.
‘Consider!’ said Paula, with indignation. ‘I have considered. Will you
kindly ring, Sir William, and get Thomas to ride at once to Mr. Haze? Or
must I rise from this chair and do it myself?’
‘You are very hasty and abrupt this morning, I think,’ he faltered.
Paula rose determinedly from the chair. ‘Since you won’t do it, I must,’
she said.
‘No, dearest!--Let me beg you not to!’
‘Sir William De Stancy!’
She moved towards the bell-pull; but he stepped before and intercepted
her.
‘You must not ring the bell for that purpose,’ he said with husky
deliberateness, looking into the depths of her face.
‘It wants two hours to the time when you might have a right to express
such a command as that,’ she said haughtily.
‘I certainly have not the honour to be your husband yet,’ he sadly
replied, ‘but surely you can listen? There exist reasons against giving
this boy in charge which I could easily get you to admit by explanation;
but I would rather, without explanation, have you take my word, when I
say that by doing so you are striking a blow against both yourself and
me.’
Paula, however, had rung the bell.
‘You are jealous of somebody or something perhaps!’ she said, in tones
which showed how fatally all this was telling against the intention of
that day. ‘I will not be a party to baseness, if it is to save all my
fortune!’
The bell was answered quickly. But De Stancy, though plainly in great
misery, did not give up his point. Meeting the servant at the door
before he could enter the room he said. ‘It is nothing; you can go
again.’
Paula looked at the unhappy baronet in amazement; then turning to the
servant, who stood with the door in his hand, said, ‘Tell Thomas to
saddle the chestnut, and--’
‘It’s all a mistake,’ insisted De Stancy. ‘Leave the room, James!’
James looked at his mistress.
‘Yes, James, leave the room,’ she calmly said, sitting down. ‘Now what
have you to say?’ she asked, when they were again alone. ‘Why must I not
issue orders in my own house? Who is this young criminal, that you
value his interests higher than my honour? I have delayed for one
moment sending my messenger to the chief constable to hear your
explanation--only for that.’
‘You will still persevere?’
‘Certainly. Who is he?’
‘Paula... he is my son.’
She remained still as death while one might count ten; then turned her
back upon him. ‘I think you had better go away,’ she whispered. ‘You
need not come again.’
He did not move. ‘Paula--do you indeed mean this?’ he asked.
‘I do.’
De Stancy walked a few paces, then said in a low voice: ‘Miss Power,
I knew--I guessed just now, as soon as it began--that we were going to
split on this rock. Well--let it be--it cannot be helped; destiny is
supreme. The boy was to be my ruin; he is my ruin, and rightly. But
before I go grant me one request. Do not prosecute him. Believe me, I
will do everything I can to get him out of your way. He shall annoy you
no more.... Do you promise?’
‘I do,’ she said. ‘Now please leave me.’
‘Once more--am I to understand that no marriage is to take place to-day
between you and me?’
‘You are.’
Sir William De Stancy left the room. It was noticeable throughout the
interview that his manner had not been the manner of a man altogether
taken by surprise. During the few preceding days his mood had been that
of the gambler seasoned in ill-luck, who adopts pessimist surmises as a
safe background to his most sanguine hopes.
She remained alone for some time. Then she rang, and requested that
Mr. Wardlaw, her father’s solicitor and friend, would come up to her. A
messenger was despatched, not to Mr. Cunningham Haze, but to the parson
of the parish, who in his turn sent to the clerk and clerk’s wife,
then busy in the church. On receipt of the intelligence the two latter
functionaries proceeded to roll up the carpet which had been laid from
the door to the gate, put away the kneeling-cushions, locked the doors,
and went off to inquire the reason of so strange a countermand. It was
soon proclaimed in Markton that the marriage had been postponed for a
fortnight in consequence of the bride’s sudden indisposition: and less
public emotion was felt than the case might have drawn forth, from the
ignorance of the majority of the populace that a wedding had been going
to take place at all.
Meanwhile Miss De Stancy had been closeted with Paula for more than an
hour. It was a difficult meeting, and a severe test to any friendship
but that of the most sterling sort. In the turmoil of her distraction
Charlotte had the consolation of knowing that if her act of justice to
Somerset at such a moment were the act of a simpleton, it was the only
course open to honesty. But Paula’s cheerful serenity in some
measure laid her own troubles to rest, till they were reawakened by a
rumour--which got wind some weeks later, and quite drowned all other
surprises--of the true relation between the vanished clerk of works, Mr.
Dare, and the fallen family of De Stancy.