Barnaby Part 33

She could not speak. She turned and walked slowly towards the stairs, and began to go up. On the landing above she waited until Julia had reached her side. Then she went along the corridor without turning her head until they had come to the end.

At Barnaby's door she stopped and, turning the handle, spoke at last to the other woman, the woman to whom he had betrayed her.

"Go to him," she said.

And without another word she left her, and left the house.

Barnaby looked up, surprised.

Susan must have started, and Lady Henrietta would not open his door so slowly. Who was this rustling on his threshold?

She took a little run into the room, and stopped.

"Oh, Barnaby!" she cried emotionally. "At last--!"

His unresponsiveness was thrown away on her excited mood. Flushed with victory she misread his expression, less like rapture than consternation.

"This is a bit unexpected," he said. "I'm not in very good form, Julia. I'm afraid I must ask you to excuse me--"

"Was I too sudden?" she said. "Ah, poor Barnaby; how you are altered;--how ill you look! Let me do something for you--"

She rushed at him with enthusiasm, casting a glance around her for illumination, and he could but smile at her hasty gesture, not yet grasping its full significance, not realizing the jealous self-a.s.sertion that lay behind her bewildering readiness to push him back in his chair, to shake up his pillows, to administer some potion.

"I don't want anything, thanks," he said. He was still grappling with the problem of her appearance.

"Oh--" she cried, desisting, "to think of you, helpless all this time, and in the hands of that woman--!"

"Are you speaking of my wife?" he said.

Julia laughed softly, reproachfully, and let her eyes rest on his.

"Foolish man!" she said. "You might have trusted me. Think what I've had to endure! Wasn't I punished enough for that ancient misunderstanding? Did you think I was so vindictive that you dared not confide in me? But I would have shared your burdens. For your sake I could even forgive your mother."

What was she driving at? His mouth set in a stiff line that might have warned her if she had not been so sure.

"I meant to wait," she said, "to pretend I was ignorant like the rest; to hug the secret till you struggled out of that wicked tangle and came to me. I understand you so well. I knew for whose sake you were trying to avoid a scandal. Oh, Barnaby, how mad it was--and how like you--!"

"Julia," he said, "what do you mean?"

She missed the dangerous note in his voice, too quiet.

"I'm not angry with you--now," she said caressingly. "But, Barnaby, was it fair to me? People are so uncharitable ... they talked cruelly about us. And if I hadn't known that she was not your wife,--if I hadn't known you were free----"

"That's a mistake," he said grimly. "I am not free."

She stared at him. So great was her gift of illusion, so invincible the vanity that in her was the breath of life, that she had put down his stiffness, his strangeness, to the effort to keep his feelings in control. The glad shock of her visit must have been almost too much for him. But what was that he was saying?

"Oh," she burst out. "Don't tell me she has entrapped you! That's what I was afraid of; that's why I felt I must see you at all risks, in spite of all opposition. I knew she would try to take advantage of your weakness while you were her prisoner, while you lay here at her mercy, no match for her--!"

No, he was not strong yet. His forehead was wet and his mouth was dry.

He had a curious longing to find himself back in that cool bed yonder.

"Oh, for G.o.d's sake," he cried. "Stop talking nonsense!"

His adjuration checked her pa.s.sionate speech. She remained gazing.

"I don't know," he said slowly, "how you got hold of your--hallucination. I don't know on what grounds you are making that--accusation. Did I hear you say that Susan was not my wife?

Don't repeat it."

Julia drew a quick breath of amazement.

"Barnaby!" she gasped, in an incredulous, startled voice.

"Don't repeat it," he said stubbornly. Yes, the old fire was extinguished, the old spell shattered. And still she gazed at him, unable to comprehend. All at once she began to laugh.

"She did not deny it!" she said. "At first she tried to keep me from you, but when I told her I knew all,--that you had confessed it yourself,--she was beaten. Oh, anybody who saw her face would have known the truth!"

She was frightened then. His eyes were so blue and blazing.

"You told Susan," he repeated, "that I--that _I_ had said she was not my wife?"

"Yes," she said, still defiant, but quailing a little before his look.

He stood up. He was regarding her with an expression that held no memories of the past. It was all blotted out; no trampled pa.s.sion, no hidden tenderness stirred in him to excuse her.

"If you were not a woman--!" he said, in an implacable tone that was unknown to her.--"You had better go."

"What a monster I am!" said Lady Henrietta. "How neglectful!--Was I more than five minutes? You'd have rung if you'd wanted me, wouldn't you? Poor boy, were you very dull?"

"It's nearly time for her to come back," he said.

He was looking tired. Getting up had not done him good. Feeling somewhat guilty his mother sat down to amuse him and make up for her lapse by half an hour's brisk attention.

Somehow his curious depression affected her. She, too, began to listen for the motor.

"I told her not to hurry back," she said apologetically, as time went by. "She's been doing far too much. If she doesn't take care of herself now you're better, she will break down."

"Wasn't that the car?" said Barnaby.

But no light step came hurrying up the stairs.

"I'll ask," said Lady Henrietta, and rang. The servant who came knew nothing, and was sent down to make inquiries. She was puzzled by the report.

"I can't understand this!" she said. "Barnaby--they say the car has come back without her."

His look alarmed her. She jumped up quickly.