Wilfrid Cumbermede Part 50

'I had none, however.'

'Of which? Friends or intentions?'

'Either.'

'What! No friends? I verily surprised Miss Pease in the act of studying her "Cookery for Invalids"--in the hope of finding a patient in you, no doubt. She wanted to come and nurse you, but daren't propose it.'

'It was very kind of her.'

'No doubt. But then you see she's ready to commit suicide any day, poor old thing, but for lack of courage!'

'It must be dreary for her!'

'Dreary! I should poison the old dragon.'

'Well, perhaps I had better tell you, for Miss Pease's sake, who is evidently the only one that cares a straw about _me_ in the matter, that possibly I shall be absent a good many days this week, and perhaps the next too.'

'Why, then--if I may ask--Mr Absolute?'

'Because a friend of mine is going to pay me a visit. You remember Charley Osborne, don't you? Of course you do. You remember the ice-cave, I am sure.'

'Yes, I do--quite well,' she answered.

I fancied I saw a shadow cross her face.

'When do you expect him?' she asked, turning away, and picking a book from the floor.

'In a week or so, I think. He tells me his mother and sister are coming here on a visit.'

'Yes--so I believe--to-morrow, I think. I wonder if I ought to be going. I don't think I will. I came to please them--at all events not to please myself; but as I find it pleasanter than I expected, I won't go without a hint and a half at least.'

'Why should you? There is plenty of room.'

'Yes; but don't you see?--so many inferiors in the house at once might be too much for Madame Dignity. She finds one quite enough, I suspect.'

'You do not mean that she regards the Osbornes as inferiors?'

'Not a doubt of it. Never mind. I can take care of myself. Have you any work for me to-day?'

'Plenty, if you are in a mood for it.'

'I will fetch Miss Brotherton.'

'I can do without _her_.'

She went, however, and did not return. As I walked home to dinner, she and Miss Brotherton pa.s.sed me in the carriage, on their way, as I learned afterwards, to fetch the Osborne ladies from the rectory, some ten miles off. I did not return to Moldwarp Hall, but helped Styles in the lumber-room, which before night we had almost emptied.

The next morning I was favoured with a little desultory a.s.sistance from the two ladies, but saw nothing of the visitors. In the afternoon, and both the following days, I took my servant with me, who got through more work than the two together, and we advanced it so far that I was able to leave the room next the armoury in the hands of the carpenter and the housemaid, with sufficient directions, and did not return that week.

CHAPTER x.x.xV.

A TALK WITH CHARLEY.

The following Monday, in the evening, Charley arrived, in great spirits, more excited indeed than I liked to see him. There was a restlessness in his eye which made me especially anxious, for it raised a doubt whether the appearance of good spirits was not the result merely of resistance to some anxiety. But I hoped my companions.h.i.+p, with the air and exercise of the country, would help to quiet him again. In the late twilight we took a walk together up and down my field.

'I suppose you let your mother know you were coming, Charley?' I said.

'I did not,' he answered. 'My father must have nothing to lay to their charge in case he should hear of our meeting.'

'But he has not forbidden you to go home, has he?'

'No, certainly. But he as good as told me I was not to go home while he was away. He does not wish me to be there without his presence to counteract my evil influences. He seems to regard my mere proximity as dangerous. I sometimes wonder whether the severity of his religion may not have affected his mind. Almost all madness, you know, turns either upon love or religion.'

'So I have heard. I doubt it--with men. It may be with women.--But you won't surprise them? It might startle your mother too much. She is not strong, you say. Hadn't I better tell Clara Coningham? She can let them know you are here.'

'It would be better.'

'What do you say to going there with me to-morrow? I will send my man with a note in the morning.'

He looked a little puzzled and undetermined, but said at length,

'I dare say your plan is the best. How long has Miss Coningham been here?'

'About ten days, I think.'

He looked thoughtful and made no answer.

'I see, you are afraid of my falling in love with her again,' I said.

'I confess I like her much better than I did, but I am not quite sure about her yet. She is very bewitching anyhow, and a little more might make me lose my heart to her. The evident dislike she has to Brotherton would of itself recommend her to any friend of yours or mine.'

He turned his face away.

'Do not be anxious about me,' I went on. 'The first shadowy conviction of any untruthfulness in her, if not sufficient to change my feelings at once, would at once initiate a backward movement in them.'

He kept his face turned away, and I was perplexed. After a few moments of silence, he turned it towards me again, as if relieved by some resolution suddenly formed, and said with a smile under a still clouded brow,

'Well, old fellow, we'll see. It'll all come right, I dare say. Write your note early, and we'll follow it. How glad I _shall_ be to have a glimpse of that blessed mother of mine without her attendant dragon!'

'For G.o.d's sake don't talk of your father so! Surely, after all, he is a good man!'

'Then I want a new reading of the word.'

'He loves G.o.d, at least.'

'I won't stop to inquire--' said Charley, plunging at once into argument--'what influence for good it might or might not have to love a non-existence: I will only ask--Is it a good G.o.d he loves or a bad one?