Wives and Widows; or The Broken Life Part 34

I fairly thought it something supernatural at first, then I ran out, but there was nothing to be seen. I stole to Lottie's room and looked in; she was sleeping soundly, so I went back to my own apartment. That incident, added to the excitement of the day, kept me awake for hours. I tried to convince myself that it was only one of my ridiculous fancies: but the effort was in vain; I knew that I had seen that white shape steal by--it was no delusion. Who was it? What was it?

I determined to say nothing, feeling certain that everybody would laugh at me. I knew that it was silly, but I could not drive away the terror that chilled my heart. Everything had gone so wrong of late, that quiet house was so changed, that the least thing disturbed me more than events of importance would once have done.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.

MR. LAWRENCE MAKES A CALL.

Lawrence called upon us the next day: that is, he came to the house and inquired for Mrs. Dennison, without one word regarding the rest of the family. Mr. Lee was sitting in the square balcony when the gentleman rode up, and cast a meaning glance at Jessie, as if he felt certain that the visit was for her. She shrunk from his look with something like affright; and when the servant came up with word that Mr. Lawrence was in the drawing-room, waiting for Mrs. Dennison, she gave me a look of wild reproof, as if I had been the cause of his evident displeasure.

Mr. Lee sat with his eyes upon her; and when Mrs. Dennison came from her chamber, the expression of his face became so like that which pained me in Jessie's, that I could not escape the idea that both suffered from the same cause.

The shock of this thought made me tremble. It had never fastened upon me as a reality before. Why did I turn so faint? Why did my soul rise up in such bitter protest? G.o.d help me, I am not wise enough to answer; the tumult of trouble within me was something I had never, till then, experienced. Still the idea was a terrible one. How could a woman of right principles feel otherwise? Thus I explained it away, and soothed myself into a belief that any true-hearted person living in that family as I did must have felt all the miserable sensations that tortured me.

These thoughts made me dizzy. When I could see clearly again, Jessie was gone, and Mr. Lee sat a little more upright in his chair, looking hard at the wall over the top of his book. I was glad those stern eyes were not turned on me.

Mrs. Dennison came sweeping out of her chamber, leaving a scarcely perceptible perfume in the hall as she pa.s.sed. She did not observe me, for I sat a little out of range from the door, and she evidently was not conscious that Mr. Lee was looking after her. She caught his glance, however, in turning to go down stairs, paused abruptly, and came back as if she were eager to explain something; but again she stopped short on seeing that I occupied a seat which commanded the balcony, and saying hastily, "Oh, I thought Miss Jessie was here," went down the hall again, evidently discomfited.

Mr. Lee resumed his volume, but there were no signs of reading. He simply looked hard at the page without turning it over, and sat gnawing at his under lip with a kind of ferocity I had never witnessed in him before. I was getting sadly nervous, and felt a painful sensation in my throat; what was all this coming to? What did it mean?

I left the balcony and went up to Mrs. Lee's chamber; here everything was pure and quiet. The invalid lay upon her couch, with a book before her; one slender and almost transparent hand rested upon the opposite page to that which she was reading. It started like a frightened bird as I came in, and she turned her head with one of those heavenly smiles I have never seen equalled. But her face clouded over in an instant.

Evidently Martha Hyde was not the person that gentle invalid had hoped to see.

I went up to the couch and sat down on the low seat at its head. She handed me the book with a smile, saying that it made her eyes ache.

"Would I read a little till Mr. Lee came up?"

She said this languidly, and there was a strange look about her eyes, as if they had been overtaxed. I received the volume, but fell into thought with it in my hand, forgetting that she was observing me.

"What is the matter?" she said, touching me with her shadowy hand. "Has anything gone wrong? No bad news about our young friend, I hope."

"No," I answered, starting; "I have not heard from him this morning."

"Well, what is it then? You look strangely, as if something had frightened you."

"Do I? No, indeed, nothing has frightened me."

"Perhaps," she said, with a little hesitation, "you are getting anxious about me; these heavy feelings that hang about my head in the morning are a little depressing; I don't really know what to make of them."

I looked at her anxiously; there certainly was a singular expression in her eyes which made me thoughtful. She went on in a soft, dreamy way, as if talking to herself.

"Then I used to sleep so lightly. It was a great affliction,--that state of semi-wakefulness which left everything unreal, but was not sleep, wore me out; now I fall into such profound slumber, but it gives me no more rest than the other state; and I awake with the sensation of a person who has been struggling hard through the night."

"But this may arise from opiates."

"Opiates! Indeed, you know that I never take them, Miss Hyde."

I answered with some surprise that I had accounted for the strange feeling which oppressed her by the idea that it must be something of that kind; but omitted to say that Mrs. Dennison had bewailed to me the habit of taking preparations of opium which Mrs. Lee had fallen into.

The invalid seemed a little hurt by this suggestion, and said over and over again in her sweet way,--

"No, no, my dear. It must be terrible pain which can force me to take these things; and thanks to Him and to all the loving care around me, I do not suffer greatly."

"Still you are changed, dear lady," I said. "How, I cannot explain; but in your face I find that look of struggle which you complain of."

"It is oppressive," she said, putting a hand to her forehead, "and I am afraid makes me but dull company. Mr. Lee is not here quite so much as usual: or is that a sick fancy, Miss Hyde?"

I answered with a tremor in my voice, for her earnest look troubled me, that we all thought quiet better for her, even than the pleasant excitement which his company might bring.

She shook her head, and observed with one of her touching smiles, "that it did not help the flowers to keep back the dew when they thirsted for it."

I had no answer; all my petty evasions against her affectionate entreaties were like straw flung on the surface of a brook; I had no heart to attempt more.

She had fallen into silence, and lay shading her eyes with one hand, when Mr. Lee came in with a heavy, ringing step, and a cloud on his face. His wife started up, and her eyes sparkled as she held out her hand.

"Were you asleep? Have I disturbed you?" he said, abruptly.

"Oh! no, that is impossible, I think; but--but you look troubled. What is it?"

"Troubled? Do I? Nothing of the kind. How fanciful you are, my dear!

What should any of us have to do with trouble?"

"Not while we are together," she said, touching the seat I had abandoned with her hand, thus delicately inviting him to her side.

But he strode to the window, and looked out with anxiety. Something was evidently on his mind. Just then I heard voices in the garden. It was Mrs. Dennison calling aloud for Jessie.

"Jessie, Jessie, darling, where have you hidden yourself? Here is some one wishes to see you."

The voice came ringing up clear and distinct; Mr. Lee heard it, and the frown grew lighter upon his forehead. Directly a light step came up the stairs. Mr. Lee turned and looked toward the door. Mrs. Dennison entered the chamber without waiting for her knock to be answered.

"Where is Jessie?" she cried, all cheerfulness and animation; "she is wanted, and I am quite out of breath searching for her in the garden, Mr. Lee. Dear Miss Hyde, pray help me to find her."

Mr. Lee came forward at this challenge, almost smiling.

"Have you been to her room?" he said.

She answered him that she had not, but added something in a low, hurried voice. Guarded as it was, I caught the sense.

"There was a little misunderstanding between them," she said; "he wanted me to mediate, and is waiting for her in the garden."

Mr. Lee listened, and one of the rare smiles I have spoken of beamed over his face. He made a movement as if to go out with the widow; but seeing the anxiety in Mrs. Lee's eyes, I went forward at once, saying, as I hurried by the couple,--

"As you are here to sit with Mrs. Lee, sir, I will look for Jessie."

The smile that crept across Mrs. Dennison's lips was like a reptile feeding on a rose.