By Birth A Lady Part 54

It was about half-past ten, and, probably to soften Edward the hard, the stewpan was in use, and steaming mugs of hot spiced liquid were being from time to time applied to lips.

"Married long before this, I should think," said the housemaid, tossing her head. "You don't suppose she's like some people I know, going on shilly-shallying year after year, as if they never meant to get married at all."

"Never you mind about that," said Edward gruffly; "perhaps we shall get married when it suits us, and perhaps we sha'n't. I don't see no fun in going away from a good home and a good missus, to hard lines and spending all your savings, like some people as ain't old enough to know better."

"Does missus ever talk about her, Mr Eddard?" said Cook persuasively.

"Not often," said Edward; "but I know one thing,--she ain't had a letter from her for ever so long, now."

"How do you know?" said the housemaid.

"How do I know?" exclaimed Mr Eddard contemptuously. "Why, don't I see all the envelopes, and can't I tell that way? But there's something wrong about her, I believe; for there came a letter about three weeks or a month ago, and it seemed to cut missus up a good deal, and I heard her say something out aloud."

"What did she say?" said Cook and Mary in a breath, for the recounter had stopped.

"Well, I didn't catch it all," said Edward, speaking in his mug; "but it was something like: 'Gone with Mr Bray? Impossible!'"

"But what made her say that?" exclaimed Cook.

"Why, from what she read in a letter from London, to be sure, stupid.

Why else should she say it?"

"There, didn't I tell you so!" exclaimed Cook triumphantly.

"What are you up to now?" said Edward in a tone of gruff contempt.

"What do you mean?"

"Why, I always thought she'd have Mr Bray, as was so wonderful attentive. Why, Mrs Pottles, down at the Seven Bells, has told me lots of times about how he used to come and put his horse up there, and then follow her about."

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Edward. "When did you see Mother Pottles last?"

"Yesterday," said Cook. "And she said she thought that Pottles would take the twenty pounds off the good-will, and--"

"Why didn't you tell me so before?" said Edward gruffly.

"Because she said Mr Pottles would come over and see you, and you do snub me so for interfering."

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Edward again.

"What, you are going to have the Seven Bells, then?" said the housemaid.

"O, I am glad; it will be nice! And you're going to be married, after all."

"Don't you be in a hurry," growled Edward. "We ain't gone yet, and perhaps we shan't go at all; so now then. There goes the bell; now, then, clear off. Missus is going to bed."

"Did you fasten the side-door, Mr Ed-dard?" said the housemaid.

"Slipped the top bolt, that's all," said the footman, as he went to answer the bell.

"Let's lay them bits of lace out on the lawn, Cook, and leave 'em all night; the frost 'll bleach 'em beautiful," said the housemaid.

"Ah, so we might," said Cook; and taking some wet twisted-up sc.r.a.ps of lace from a basin, cook and housemaid tied their handkerchiefs round their necks, placed their ap.r.o.ns over their heads, and ran down a pa.s.sage, unbolted the side-door, and went over the gravel drive to lay the lace upon the front lawn.

"I'll pop out and take them in when I light the breakfast-room fire,"

said the housemaid. "My, what a lovely night! it must be full moon."

"Scr-r-r-r-r-r-r-eech--screech--screech!" went the cook.

"Scre-e-e-e-e-ch-h-h-h!" went the housemaid, giving vent to a shrill cry that would have made an emulative locomotive burst in despair; and, still screaming, the two women clung together, and backed slowly to the house, ran down the pa.s.sage to the kitchen, shrieking still, where the cook sank into a chair, which gave way beneath her, and she fell heavily on the floor.

"Are you mad, Mary--Cook? What is the matter?" exclaimed Mrs Brandon, running into the kitchen, chamber-candlestick in hand, closely followed by Edward.

"They _are_ mad--both on 'em!" growled the footman.

"A ghost, a ghost!" panted Mary, shuddering, and pointing towards the pa.s.sage.

"A ghost!" exclaimed Mrs Brandon contemptuously. "You foolish wicked woman! How dare you alarm the children with such ridiculous, such absurd old grandmothers' notions? You've been out, I suppose?"

"Yes, yes!" sobbed Mary, covering her blanched face with her hands.

"And you saw something white, I suppose, in the moonlight?"

"N-n-n-o, 'm! It was a black one, all but the horrid face with the moon on it."

"Edward," said Mrs Brandon, "some one has been trying to frighten them, and they have left the pa.s.sage door open. You are not afraid?"

"How should I know till I see what it's like!" growled Edward. "Anyhow, I'll go and try."

"I'll go with you," said Mrs Brandon.

Edward led the way to where the moonlight was streaming in through the open door, when he started back against his mistress, forcing her into the kitchen.

"There _is_ something, mum!" he said hoa.r.s.ely, "and I think I am a little afraid. No, no, 'm, you sha'n't go. I'll go first: I can't stand that, if I am frighted."

He again made a step in advance, for Mrs Brandon was about to take the _pas_; but the next moment mistress and man drew involuntarily back, as, slowly, as if feeling its way through some thick darkness, hands stretched out, palms downward, to their fullest extent, head thrown back, wild eyes staring straight before it, and face unnaturally pale, came towards them a figure draped in black.

On and on, in a strange unearthly way, rigid as if of marble, came the figure across the great kitchen, and in spite of herself Mrs Brandon felt a strange thrill pa.s.s through her as she slowly gave way; but followed still by the figure through the open door into the hall, where, reason rea.s.serting itself, she set down the candlestick upon the marble slab, and stood firm till the strange visitor came close up to her, and she took two cold stony hands in hers.

"Ella, my child!" she gasped.

It was as though those three words had dissolved a spell; for the staring eyes slowly closed, a faint dawning as of a smile relaxed the rigid features, and, as the white lips parted, there came forth a low sigh as of relief, and then the form sank slowly down till it was supported only by the grasp Mrs Brandon maintained upon the hands.

"Here! Quick! Help, Edward!" exclaimed Mrs Brandon, blushing for her excusable dread. "Good Heavens, what infamy has been practised, that this poor child should seek refuge here in such a plight? Edward!"

"I'm here, ma'am," cried the hard footman, smiting himself heavily upon the cheek. "That I should have been such a fool! But 'twas enough to startle--"

"Man--man, don't talk!" cried his mistress. "Run to Mr Tiddson, he is the nearest; and don't tell him to come, but bring him. Do you hear?--_bring him_!"

"That I just will," cried the man, giving one glance at the figure at his mistress's feet, and the next moment he was in the kitchen. "Here, rouse up!" he cried, "'tain't nothing sooper--"