THE AVOWAL
It was mid October and the woods round Newenham were not now dressed
in green, but clothed in various shades of brown, dark red, and deep
orange; in the grounds, one no longer heard the continual rattle of
the mowing machine; the gardeners were busy with barrows and brooms,
sweeping up, and removing, the endless showers of withered leaves.
Within, the atmosphere was gay and sunny, here were various congenial
guests: Roger De Wolfe and Major Horne had come for the pheasant
shooting. Mrs. Horne, Billy and Baby Miller were of the party, and Mrs.
Hicks who had rushed down on a flying visit, before she sailed for
India, also Mrs. Ffinch, and Mr. Mayne.
The solitary old gentleman, had seemed so dull and depressed, that Mrs.
De Wolfe insisted that he should join her circle--even for a few days.
To Nancy she said, "I've no doubt that the gossips will think that
we are going to be married at _last_; they settled a match years and
years ago, and how my boys used to laugh and chaff me! You will look
after him, Nancy, the old man is devoted to you, and you are devoted
to him, and I must confess, I admire the courage with which you take
him on at Bridge; a most hopeless and expensive partner, who doubles
and re-doubles, even if he holds a Yarborough; the old gambling spirit
re-appearing in a milder form!"
It was five o'clock in the afternoon, the party were collected round
the tea table in the hall,--a table laden with rare old silver, a fine
Crown Derby tea-service, hot scones--savoury sandwiches and cakes too
numerous to mention--and Mrs. Ffinch,--who never lost sight of an
opportunity,--had cleverly manœuvred dull Roger De Wolfe into a seat
next to lively Baby Miller. In the opinion of this astute matron,
it was full time that Roger was married; he was forty, his hair was
thinning on the top, his figure was thickening; in short, she was
resolved upon this match. Glancing over the girls in the neighbourhood,
she found none so suitable to be the future mistress of the Court, as
pretty, red-haired "Baby."
She could see that Roger was already dazzled and fascinated, and it
would be a most desirable alliance. Roger was plain, silent, and
worthy; Baby was a charming chatterbox, and a nice, good, clever girl;
some day, she would and should be the châtelaine of this dear old
house, and take charge of the precious family treasures, when their
present owner had passed away. There was a loud hum of talking, and
laughing, Major Horne and Roger De Wolfe were discussing their day's
sport, Mr. Mayne and Mrs. De Wolfe were still wrangling about their
last rubber, when Sutton entered, salver in hand.
"Your letters have just come, sir," he said, approaching Mr. Mayne.
"Are there any orders for Graham?"
The old gentleman took up his letters, glanced at them indifferently,
and answered, "No, not to-day," turning to Mrs. De Wolfe he added:
"Only a bill from my saddler, and a letter from Julia Torquilstone.
I wonder what the deuce _she_ is writing about?" he added
peevishly--"sure to _want_ something," and he laid it unopened by his
plate. "I was hoping to hear from my boy. I know the mail came in two
days ago."
Nancy too had hoped for a letter; but her hopes had been doomed to
disappointment.
As soon as Mr. Mayne had disposed of Mrs. De Wolfe's argument,
and a second cup of tea, he opened the neglected epistle from his
sister-in-law,--and read it with a frowning face.
"Here's bad news!" he exclaimed, in a tone which silenced every other
voice. "Julia has had a line from the War Office, to say that Derek has
been dangerously wounded in some action with the hill tribes. Oh, these
little wars, and what they cost us!"
"Are there any particulars?" inquired Mrs. De Wolfe.
"There you are!" handing her an official telegram. "I suppose," and his
voice was husky, "he will leave his bones out there, like his father."
When Mrs. De Wolfe had glanced over the slip of paper, she was not a
little surprised, to see Nancy rise from her place, and stretch out a
trembling hand.
"May I see it too?" she asked. The question was so clear and so
unexpected, that every eye was riveted on the pale girl, whose gaze
was bent on the telegram,--that is to say every eye, save those of Mr.
Mayne, who was apparently engulfed in his own trouble.
"I suppose he will die out there alone!" he groaned. "Of course Julia
won't stir, I'm too old,--and there's nobody else to go."
"_I_ will go," announced Nancy, steadying herself by a tall Charles the
First chair, and looking round the assembled company, with a white and
rigid face. "I must tell you all at last, and _now_,--that--that--" and
her voice sank till it became a whisper--but an audible whisper, "I am
his _wife_!"
"Nancy!" ejaculated Mrs. De Wolfe, in a key of contrasting depth.
"It's true," she continued with livid lips, "we were married by
my father's deathbed, two and a half years ago, and----" here she
completely broke down.
"Nancy, child, don't, _I'll_ tell it," volunteered Mrs. Ffinch,
stretching out her arm. "No, she is not raving, as you might naturally
suppose," she added, glancing at her companions. "I know all about
it,--and Mrs. Hicks was present,--she saw them married!"
"Yes," corroborated Mrs. Hicks, "I did, and it's about the only secret
I've ever been able to keep!"
"But why a secret?" demanded Mrs. De Wolfe, who had recovered her
composure.
"We were married to relieve my father's mind," replied Nancy, who had
also reclaimed her self-possession. "I was alone in the world, and very
poor, and he was dreadfully unhappy about me; Captain Mayne and I did
not care for one another--in those days! Please!" looking round the
circle--"_do_ forgive me for deceiving you,--but we agreed to keep the
marriage secret, and to be strangers always, and I must confess, that
_I_ behaved very badly. I was distracted, and I ran away; but I was so
young, and so heart-broken! It is different now; I shall leave with
Mrs. Hicks on Friday, and pray that I may be in time.--I am going to
send off a cable," and looking like the wraith of Nancy Travers, she
left them.
The old mahogany door closed upon a long expressive silence, presently
to be broken by Mrs. Ffinch, who gladly took up her parable. Here was
_her_ hour! what an opening for her natural eloquence, and love of
dominating a situation! As she unravelled Nancy's past, she had the
supreme happiness of knowing, that her listeners actually hung upon
her words,--especially old Mr. Mayne, with his head advanced, and hand
behind his left and best, ear!
In a few short and telling sentences, she described Nancy's adoration
of her father, their ideally happy life,--the terrible scene with the
panther, Mayne's bad shot, his rescue by Travers, and how when Travers
was dying, Mayne had come forward, and undertaken the charge of Nancy.
How immediately after the funeral Nancy, in a condition of frenzied
grief, had written a letter of farewell and repudiation to Mayne,--and
taken refuge with her old nurse at Coimbatore.
"Aye, it really was a terrible letter," chimed in Mrs. Hicks, "I was
there, when he read it, and he looked knocked all of a 'eap.--First he
showed it to Teddy Dawson, and then to me. She said as how she blamed
him, and how she hated him,--and so he let her go,--what else could he
do?"--throwing herself back in her chair, and folding her arms with an
air of finality--then added as an afterthought, "but he made her a
good allowance!"
"Which she never touched," supplemented Mrs. Ffinch, "the money has
lain all this time in Grindlay's Bank; they held no communication
with one another, each went their own way: he as a bachelor, she, as
an unmarried girl, until they came to London,--where Fate threw them
together, in spite of themselves."
"So all the time, there _was_ a girl in the background!--a girl to
whom he sent money," said Mrs. Horne,--who had a wonderful faculty for
remembering--but not disseminating--scraps of gossip. "There's never
smoke without a fire, and to think, that all the time it should be
_Nancy_."
"It was a case of a foolish, hasty, wedding," declared Mrs. Ffinch
judicially; "had I been at home, I would never have allowed it to take
place. Unfortunately I happened to be absent for a few days, and in
those few days, occurred Nancy's marriage, and her father's death. I
think that Derek Mayne,--though he meant well,--behaved like a lunatic!"
"No," corrected his uncle, thumping on the table, "he behaved like a
man of honour! I was always fond of Derek, and now I'm _proud_ of him!
I'll just go and see what that girl is doing?" and taking his stick, he
hobbled out of the room.
When Nancy found Mrs. De Wolfe alone, she said, "Hundreds of times
I've wanted to speak, and to tell you,--but I dared not; for I felt,
that if I opened my lips, the secret would spread; if I told one, I
might tell another; and when I saw Derek, I realized that we were to be
strangers,--in fact he said so in the plainest terms. There was nothing
for it but silence,--at first."
"And now?" inquired her friend, with grave significance.
"Now,--only for my money,--I believe he would have made it up! Money,
or no money, I'm going out on Friday; I have already secured my
berth, by telephone,--but oh, dear, dear Auntie, supposing I am _too
late_!"--and as she sank on her knees and buried her face on the old
lady's lap,--her sobs were heartbreaking.
"Don't meet trouble half way, my child," said Mrs. De Wolfe, "though
crying will relieve your poor heart. It is only the _young_, the lucky
young, who can weep. Remember that the Maynes are as tough as leather;
why, look at that old man downstairs; four months ago, a horse
rolled upon him, and broke his leg, and three ribs; to-day, he was
out shooting pheasants! Oh, Nancy my dear, how often I've wished that
you, and Derek would take to one another,--and only to think, that you
were married all the time! Well, in my long, and not uneventful life,
you have given me the most stunning surprise, I have ever experienced!
_Now_ I can understand why Derek never came to the house, and went out
of his way to avoid me."
"Everything is my fault. Auntie Wolfe," sobbed Nancy, "I'm afraid you
will never care for me any more, nor trust me: everyone will think me
so secretive, and deceitful,--and so I _was_!"
"It will be all right, my dear, if only Derek recovers, and you make
him happy,--as I believe you can. By and by you will both come home,
and settle among us,--and your strange story will be forgotten."
* * * * *
As soon as Captain Mayne was convalescent, he and his wife travelled
down to Fairplains, where they were the guests of Mr. and Mrs. Dawson;
and in that familiar and unchanged verandah, he once more occupied
his favourite shabby chair, and surveyed from his place, the dim blue
plains. All the neighbours and employees flocked to the bungalow,
to hail and welcome Nancy. Francis received his "Little Missy" with
rapturous joy, and a few trickling tears.--As for Togo, that faithful
heart was always hers.
When Miss Travers, at a few hours' notice, had hurried out to India, to
marry, and nurse, Captain Mayne; it was generally believed that this
was but the romantic sequel, to a long and mysterious engagement.
Not more than two or three hundred people are in possession of the
truth!
THE END
* * * * *
By the same Author
_Each in Cloth_
A RASH EXPERIMENT
WHAT SHE OVERHEARD
IN OLD MADRAS
THE SERPENT'S TOOTH
* * * * *
_Printed in Great Britain by Ebenezer Baylis & Son, Worcester._