Cruel As The Grave Part 20

"What followed?" echoed Sybil, in an expiring voice.

"What followed, ma'am, was this: but to make you understand, I must tell you what I ought to a told you at the start, which is how it happened as I seen her tip, tip, tip, on her tiptoes to the drawing-room, just for all the world like a cat after cream. Well, I was up here, in this very room where I am now, a sorting out of your fine things as come up from the wash, and I found one o' _her_ lace handkerchers among yourn, fotch up by mistake. So I jes took it and went down them back stairs as leads from this room down to hern, to give her back her handkercher; when jes as I got into her room, I seen her slip outen the other door leading into the hall. So after her I goes, to give her her handkercher--which I thought it was best to give it intor her own hands, than to put it anywhere in her room, because I didn't know nothing about this forring nuss o' hern; and you know yourself, ma'am, as we ought to be cautious in dealing with strangers."

"Yes, yes! Go on! go on!" gasped Sybil.

"Well, ma'am, she flitted through them pa.s.sages too fast for me, jes as if she was afraid o' being caught afore she got out o' sight! I jes seen her slip into the drawing-room, where I knowed as Mr. Berners was a lying onto the sofa, and then I turns back and runs away."

"Oh, why didn't you follow her in?" groaned Sybil.

"Yes, why didn't I, ma'am; which I wish I had, and would a done if it hadn't a been for that forring nuss a coming outen _her_ room, and a screeching after me:

"'Missus Winterblossom! Missus Winterblossom!' which I allus told that huzzy as I wasn't a 'missus,' but a 'miss,' nor likewise a 'blossom,'

but a 'rose.' Howsever, there she was, a yelling at the top of her voice, 'Missus Winterblossom! Missus Winterblossom!' until I had to run to her, only to stop her mouth!"

"Ah! the wretch! she was the accomplice of her mistress, and wished to bring you away," breathed Sybil more to herself than to her housekeeper, and in a tone too low to reach the ears of Miss Tabby, who continued:

"It was the baby, as had been eating of new chestnuts, and got the cramp. So the forring nuss, as wasn't worth her salt, comes screaming after me to come and do something for the baby. Of course I went and did what was right and proper for the poor little suffering creetur; and when I had put him to sleep, I thinks about his neglectful mother, and so I ups and goes after her. And when I opens the drawing-room door, ma'am--well, I sees a sight as strikes me intor a statty o' stone, or a pillar o' salt, like Lot's wife."

"What? what?" panted Sybil.

"I seen 'em both, him and her, a sitting close together and a going on jes like two lovyers as was going to be married to-morrow, or a bride and groom as was married yesterday."

"How? how?"

"Well, ma'am, if her head wasn't a leaning on his shoulder, it was so nigh it as it made no difference! And her hand was squeezed inter hizzen, and her eyes was rolled up inter hizzen in the most be-devilling way as ever I see in my life--for all the world as if she was a loving of him, and a worshipping of him, and a praising of him, and a praying to him, all in one gaze!"

"And he!--and he!"

"Oh, my dear honey! what can you expect of a poor, weak, _he-man_? He looks down on her as if he enjoyed being loved and worshipped and praised and prayed to, and he squeezes of her hand up to his mouth as if he'd like to have eaten it!"

"_Oh, my heart! my heart!_" moaned Sybil, turning deadly pale.

Still, Miss Tabby, full of her own subject, scarcely noticed the pain she was inflicting, so she continued:

"And jes that minute they happened either to see or to hear me, I don't know which. Anyways, they looks up, and--whew! they jumps apart as if a fire-cracker had gone off between 'em! Well, I tells my lady as her child is sick, and she jumps up, impatient like, to go and look after him. And I comes away too. And that was just about ten minutes before you got home yourself."

"Deceived! Betrayed! Scorned! Laughed at!" bitterly exclaimed Sybil.

"And that's all. And now look here, honey! Don't you go to taking on about this here piece o' business! And don't you get mad long o' your husband on any woman's account, whatever you do! Come down on the woman!

That's what you do. It is all _her_ fault, not hizzen! _He_ couldn't help himself, poor innocent creetur! Lor! honey, I don't know much about married life, bein' of a single woman myself; but I have heard my mother say as men are mons'rous weak-minded poor creeturs, and need to be guided by their wives; and if they an't ruled by their wives, they are sure to be by some other woman! And it stands to reason it is more respectable to be ruled by their wives! And so, honey, my advice to you is, to send that bad woman about her business, and take that innocent man firmly in hand."

And so Miss Tabby babbled on, no longer heeded by Sybil, who soon slipped away and hid herself in one of the empty spare rooms.

CHAPTER XIII.

MORE THAN THE BITTERNESS OF DEATH.

He to whom I gave my heart with all its wealth of love, Forsakes me for another.--MEDEA.

"Oh my heart! my heart!" moaned Sybil, as she sank down upon the floor of that spare-room, the door of which she had bolted, to secure herself from intrusion.

"Oh, my heart! my heart!" she wailed, pressing her hand to her side like one who had just received a mortal wound.

"Oh, my heart! my heart!" she groaned, as one who complains of an insupportable agony. And for some moments she could do no more than this. Then at length the stream of utterance flowed forth, and--

"He loves me no longer! my husband loves me no longer!" she cried in more than the bitterness of death. "He loves that false siren in place of me, his true wife. He gives her all the tender words, all the warm caresses he used to lavish on me. His heart is won from me. I am desolate! I am desolate, and I shall die! I shall die! But oh, how much I must suffer before I can die, for I am so strong to suffer! Ah, how I wish I might die at once, or that suicide were no sin!"

But suddenly, out of this deep abas.e.m.e.nt of grief, blazed up a fierce and fiery anger. She started from her rec.u.mbent position, and began to walk wildly up and down the floor, beating her hands together, and exclaiming distractedly:

"But why should I die in my youth, and go down to the dark grave, to make room for _her_, the traitress! to make room in the heart of my husband and the home of my fathers for her, the--! Oh! there is no word bad enough to express what she is! And shall _she_ live to bloom and smile and brighten in the sunshine of his love, while I moulder away in the earth? Oh!" she cried, striking her hands violently together, "there is madness and more than madness in the thought! I will not die alone; no, no, no, no, so help me, just Heaven! I will not die alone. Oh, Samson was a brave man as well as a strong one when he lifted the pillars of the temple, and willingly fell beneath its crumbling ruins, crushing all his foes. I will be another sort of Samson; and when I fall, I too will pull down destruction upon the heads of all who have wronged me!"

These and many more wild and wicked words she uttered as she walked fiercely up and down the room, her eyes blazing, her cheeks burning, her whole aspect full of frenzy.

At length, again her mood changed; the fire died out of her eyes, the color faded from her cheeks; her frenzy subsided, and gave place to a stillness more awful than any excitement could possibly be. She sank down upon a low ottoman, and rested her elbows upon her knees and her chin upon the palms of her hands, and gazed straight before her into vacancy. Her face was deadly pale; her lips bloodless and compressed; her eyes contracted and glittering with a cold, black, baleful light; her hair unloosed in her agitation, streamed down each side, and fell upon her bosom like the ends of a long black scarf. At times she muttered to herself like any maniac:

"And oh, how deeply deceitful they have both been with me, affecting a mutual indifference while I was by; falling to caressing each other just as soon as my back was turned! She--she only acted out her false and treacherous nature. But he--oh, he! in whose pure truth I had such pride. Ah, Heaven! how low she must have drawn him before he could have gained his own consent to deceive me so! before he could come fresh from her side and her caresses, and meet and embrace me! What stupendous duplicity! Well, well!" she continued, nodding grimly; "well, well, since deceit is the fashion of the day, I too will be in the fashion; I too will wear a mask of smiles! But behind that mask I will watch!--Oh, how I will watch! Not at my fancy-ball alone will I play a part, but before it, and perhaps, _after it_! None shall ever know how I watch, what I see, until I descend with the fell swoop of the eagle. And henceforth let me remember that I am a daughter of the house of Berners, who never failed a friend or spared a foe. And oh, let the spirit of my fathers support me, for I must ENDURE until I can AVENGE!" she said, as she got up with a grim calmness and paced up and down the floor to recover full self-command.

At length, when she felt sufficiently composed, she went to her own chamber, where she made a more elaborate and beautiful toilet than usual, preparatory to joining her husband and their guest at the dinner-table.

"Now smile, eyes! smile, lips! flatter, tongue! Be a siren among the sirens, Sybil! Be a serpent among the serpents!" she hissed, as she glided down the stairs and entered the dining-room.

_They_ were there! They were standing close together, in the recess of the west window, gazing out at the sun, which was just setting behind the mountain. They started, and turned towards her as she advanced. But Sybil, true to her tactics, spoke pleasantly, saying:

"You get a beautiful view of the sunset from that window, Mrs.

Blondelle."

"Yes, dear," answered Rosa, sweetly. "I was just drawing Mr. Berners'

attention to it, and telling him that I really believe use has blinded him to its beauty."

"Possession is a great disenchanter," answered Sybil.

Both the others looked up to see if she had any hidden meaning under her words. But apparently she had not. She was smiling very gayly as she took her place at the head of the table and invited her companions to take their seats.

Throughout the dinner-hour Sybil seemed in very high spirits; she was full of anecdote and wit; she talked and laughed freely. Her companions noticed her unusual gayety; but they ascribed it to the exhilarating effects of her morning drive, and to the antic.i.p.ations of her mask ball, which now formed the princ.i.p.al subject of conversation at the table.

After dinner, they went into the drawing-room, where Sybil soon left her husband and her guest alone together; or rather, she pretended to leave them so; but really, with that insanity of jealousy which made her forget her womanhood, she merely went out and around the hall into the library, and placed herself behind the folding doors communicating with the drawing room, where she could hear and see all that might be going on between her husband and her rival.

It is proverbial that "listeners never hear any good of themselves."

Sybil's case was no exception to this rule. This is what she heard of _herself_.

"What ever could have ailed Mrs. Berners," inquired Mrs. Blondelle, with a pretty lisp.

"What could have ailed Sybil? Why, nothing, that I noticed. What _should_ have ailed her?" on his side inquired Mr. Berners.