In White Raiment Part 41

"You are very kind," I answered. "The pleasure is, I a.s.sure you, quite mutual."

Then my host introduced me to all the others.

The house, built in the form of a square, with a large courtyard in the centre, was much larger than it appeared from the exterior. The hall, filled as it was with curios and trophies of the chase--for the baronet was a keen sportsman, and his wife, too, was an excellent shot--formed a comfortable lounge. My host and hostess had travelled widely in India and the East, and most of the Atworth collection had been acquired during their visits to the Colonies. The room a.s.signed to me was a bright pleasant one, clean, with old-fashioned chintzes, while from the deep window I could see across the lawn and the deep glen beyond, away over the winding Avon to the darkening hills.

At dinner I was placed next my hostess, with Beryl on my left. The latter wore a striking gown of turquoise blue, which, cut low at the neck, suited her admirably. Her wonderful gold-brown hair had evidently been arranged by a practised maid; but, as I turned to her, before she seated herself, I saw, at her throat, an object which caused me to start in surprise; suspended by a thin gold chain around her neck, a small ornament in diamonds, an exact replica of that curious little charm, shaped like a note of interrogation, which I had taken from her on the fateful day of our marriage, which I wore around my own neck at the moment. As I looked it sparkled and flashed with a thousand brilliant fires. Could that strange little device convey any hidden meaning? It was curious that, having lost one, she should wear another exactly similar.

We sat down together chatting merrily. The baronet's wife was in black lace, her white throat and arms gleaming through the transparency, while her corsage was relieved by crimson carnations. Around the table, too, were several other striking dresses, for the majority of the guests were young, and the house-party was a decidedly smart one. The meal, too, was served with a stateliness which characterised everything in the household of the Pierrepoint-Lanes.

I watched my love carefully, and saw, by her slightly flushed cheeks, that my arrival gave her the utmost satisfaction.

It was in the drawing-room afterwards, when we were sitting together, that I inquired if she had entirely recovered.

"Oh, entirely," she replied. "It was extraordinary, was it not? Do you know whether Doctor Hoefer has visited the house again?"

"I don't know," I responded. "He's so very secret in all his doings.

He will tell me nothing--save one thing."

"One thing--what is that?"

"He has discovered the ident.i.ty of your visitor in black."

"He has?" she cried quickly. "Who was she?"

"A woman whom he called by a curious foreign name," I said, watching Beryl's face the while. "I think he said she was known amongst her intimates as La Gioia."

The light died in an instant from her face.

"La Gioia!" she gasped. "And he knows her?"

"I presume that, as a result of his inquiries, he has made this discovery. His shrewdness is something marvellous; he has succeeded in many cases where the cleverest detectives have utterly failed."

"But how can he have found her?" she went on, greatly agitated by my statement.

"I have no idea. I only tell you this just as he made the announcement to me--without any explanation."

She was silent, her eyes downcast. The ornament at her throat caught the light and glittered. My words had utterly upset her.

"I must tell Nora," she said briefly, at last.

"But I presume that you know this person called La Gioia?" I remarked.

"Know her?" she gasped, looking up at me quickly. "Know her? How should I know her?"

"Because she visited you as a messenger from the friend whose name you refused to tell me."

"I did not know it was her?" she declared wildly. "I cannot think that it was actually that woman."

"You have, then, a reason for wishing not to meet her?"

"I have never met her," she declared in a hard voice. "I do not believe she was actually that woman?"

"I have merely told you Hoefer's statement," I answered. "I know nothing of who or what she is; the name sounds as though she were an actress."

"Did he tell you anything else?" she demanded. "Not another word beyond what you have already said?"

"He only told me that he had discovered her ident.i.ty."

"He has not found out her motive in visiting me?" she cried quickly.

"Not yet--as far as I am aware."

She breathed more freely. That she desired to preserve the secret of this woman, whom she feared, was plain, but for what reason it was impossible to guess. Indeed, from her att.i.tude, it seemed very much as though she were actually aware that her visitor and La Gioia were one and the same person. I saw by the twitching of her lips that she was nervous, and knew that she now regretted allowing Hoefer to prosecute his inquiries into the curious phenomena.

As I sat there with her, feasting my eyes upon her peerless beauty, I thought it all over, and arrived at the conclusion that, to discover the truth, I must remain patient and watchful, and never for a single instant show "my hand."

I was suspicious of the baronet's wife, and regarded her rather as an enemy than as a friend. She had forced herself upon me with some ulterior motive, which, although not yet apparent, would, I felt confident, be some day revealed.

Fortunately, at that moment, a smart woman in a cream gown went to the piano and began to play the overture from Adams' _Poupee de Nuremburg_, rendering silence imperative. And afterwards, at my suggestion, my wife and I strolled along to the billiard-room, where we joined a party playing pool. She handled her cue quite cleverly, for a woman, and was frequently applauded for her strokes.

Of the agitation caused by my words not a single trace now remained.

She was as gay, merry, and reckless as the others; indeed, she struck me as the very soul of the whole party. There was a smartness about her, without that annoying air of mannishness, which has, alas! developed among girls nowadays, and all that she did was full of that graceful sweetness so typically English.

The billiard-room echoed with laughter, again and again, for the game proved an exciting one, and the men of the party were, of course, gallant to the ladies in their play. There was a careless freedom in it all that was most enjoyable. The baronet was altogether an excellent fellow, eager to amuse everybody. What, I wondered, would he say if he knew of the vagaries of his smart wife, namely, that instead of visiting her relatives, she had run up to London for some purpose unknown? One fact was plain to me before I had been an hour in his house: he allowed her absolute and complete liberty.

We chatted together, sipping our whiskies between our turns at the game, and I found him a true type of the courteous, easy-going English gentlemen. I cannot, even to-day, tell what had prejudiced me against his wife, but somehow I did not like her. My distrust was a vague, undefined one, and I could not account for it.

She was eager to entertain me, it was true, anxious for my comfort, merry, full of smart sayings, and altogether a clever and tactful hostess. Nevertheless, I could not get away from the distinct feeling that I had been invited there with some ulterior motive.

The thought was a curious one, and it troubled me, not only that evening, but far into the silent night, as I lay awake striving to form some theory, but ever in vain.

Of one thing alone I felt absolutely a.s.sured--I am quick to distinguish the smallest signs, and I had not failed to become impressed by the truth I had read in her eyes that night--she was not sincere, she was plotting against me. I knew it, and regretted that I had accepted her invitation.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

FACE TO FACE.

The days pa.s.sed merrily until the end of September. There was never a dull moment, for Sir Henry's wife was one of those born hostesses who always gauge accurately the tastes of her guests, and was constantly making arrangements for their pleasure.

All the young ladies--save one young widow--and several of the men had brought their cycles, and many were the enjoyable spins we had in the vicinity. The fashion of cycling nowadays relieves a hostess of much responsibility, for on fine days guests can always amuse themselves, providing that the roads are good. I obtained a very decent machine from Bath, and, at Beryl's side, accompanied the others on excursions into Bath or Chippenham, or, on longer journeys, to Malmesbury, Stroud, and Trowbridge. In her well-cut cycling skirt, cotton blouse, and straw hat, her wealth of hair dressed tightly by her maid, and her narrow waist girdled by a belt of grey chamois leather, she looked smart and lithe awheel. As a rule there is not much poetry in the cycling skirt, for it is generally made in such a manner as to hang baggy at the sides, which become disturbed by every puff of wind, and give the wearer the greatest amount of unnecessary annoyance. The French _culottes_ are practical, if not altogether in accordance with our British view of feminine dress, and that they impart to a woman a considerable chicness, when in the saddle, cannot be denied. Yet there is nothing more graceful, nor more becoming to a woman than the English cycling skirt when cut by an artist in that form.

Sometimes alone, but often accompanied by our hostess, Sir Henry, or some of the guests. Beryl and I explored all the roads in the vicinity.

My love const.i.tuted herself my guide, showing me the Three Shire Stones (the spot where the counties of Gloucester, Somerset, and Wilts join), the old Abbey of Lac.o.c.k, the ancient moat and ruins at Kington Langley, the Lord's Barn at Frogwell, the Roman tumuli at Blue Vein, and other objects of interest in the neighbourhood.

After my hard, laborious life in London these bright hours--spent in the fresh air by day, and in dancing and other gaieties at night--were indeed a welcome change. But it was not of that I reflected; my every thought was of her.

A score of times, during the week that had pa.s.sed since my arrival at Atworth, I had been on the point of declaring my love for her and relating to her all I knew. Yet I hesitated. By so doing I might arouse her indignation. I had spied upon her; I was endeavouring to learn her secret.

Thus, from day to day I lingered at her side, played tennis, walked in the park, danced after dinner, and played billiards in the hour before we parted for the night, with eyes only for her, thoughts only of her, my life was hers alone. Perhaps I neglected the other guests. I think I must have done. Yet, well aware how quickly gossip arises among a house-party, I was always careful to remain sufficiently distant towards her to avoid any suspicion of flirtation. With a woman's natural instinct she sometimes exerted her coquetry over me when we were alone, and by that I felt a.s.sured she was by no means averse to my companionship.