Paddy The Next Best Thing Part 59

"My dear," answered Mrs Blake, "didn't you say he was not well?"

"I know--I know--but--indeed, it would be better to leave him alone for a little." Mrs Blake regarded her with surprise. "I don't understand you," she said a little haughtily. "I only wish to see if I can do anything for him."

"He said he did not want to be disturbed," murmured poor Gwen distractedly.

"My dear, I am his mother," and Mrs Blake pa.s.sed out of the room.

Gwen stood a moment watching her cross the hall with a fascinated gaze, and then suddenly darted across to the drawing-room, and burying her face in a sofa-cushion burst into tears, to the unutterable consternation of her faithful giant, who followed immediately, and had much ado to soothe her. They were startled presently by the sound of a door being violently slammed, as only a man could slam it, and then halting footsteps approached the hall. Gwen went to the door, but drew back horror-struck. Mrs Blake was going toward the stairs, and her face was the colour of a corpse. She looked as if she were dazed and petrified. Then Kathleen, who had been waiting nervously in the dining-room, crossed quickly to her with open arms, and a little cry of, "Mother! Mother! what is it?--are you ill?"

Her mother looked at her as if she could hardly understand, and then dropped senseless. A second later Bob Russell carried her upstairs, and laid her on her bed. Gwen stayed with Kathleen until she had come round, and then slipped away to the drawing-room again, feeling utterly unstrung. Doreen and her _fiance_ were fortunately out to lunch.

"It was Lawrence," she said, in reply to Bob's anxious questions; "he must have been terrible, and to her, his own mother! Oh, it is awful, Bob," and the tears streamed down her face again. Bob sprang to his feet.

"Shall I go and throttle him!--the worm! A man who can behave like that to his mother, isn't fit to live. I'll go and tell him so--I'll-- I'll--"

"Oh, no, no, no," cried Gwen, "you don't understand. It is dreadful of him, but he is mad about something. I knew it, and I tried to stop her."

The giant went on muttering imprecations, however, and Owen had hard work to hold him when presently that distant door slammed again. She crossed to the window quickly, and was just in time to see Lawrence stride down the drive, with that terrible fixed look still on his face.

No one sat down to dinner that night, except Kathleen, and Gwen, and Bob Russell. Mrs Blake was too ill, and Lawrence did not come back.

Doreen and her barrister were still away.

Kathleen was in a state of pent-up fury, which now and then burst its bounds in pa.s.sionate indictment against her brother. "Why can't he stay away," she said, "if he can't behave like a gentleman? I'm sure we don't want him here, he is always a wet blanket, and upsets mother about something or other every day. It has been the same ever since he went to college. He doesn't care for anything in heaven or earth except himself; I'm sick of it. If he doesn't go away and stay away, I'll just take mother to live somewhere else altogether."

Gwen was much too fond of Lawrence and much too staunch to her friends not to speak a word for him in spite of her own inward anger.

"There is a reason for it, Kit," she said. "Don't judge him to-day.

He'll be all right again presently."

"Until the next time," with an angry sneer, very like her brother's. "I tell you it isn't good enough, Owen. He's not going to behave like this to mother again, I'll get between them if he kills me for it. What has he ever been to her but a curse?--drinking, and gambling, and idling about the world. Oh, I dare say he's charming enough to you always! we all know there isn't a man could be more fascinating when he likes, but how much does that go for beside scenes like this?"

Gwen set her teeth.

"You are not fair," she said. "Lawrence has behaved like a brute to-day, and I dare say it isn't the first time, but he has neither gambled nor drunk for years, and there have been times when he was goodness itself to his mother."

"And few and far enough between too," sneered Kathleen. "I'm only thankful that he hasn't got engaged to any friend of mine; for if I cared for her very much, I'd sooner see her in her grave than married to Lawrence."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Gwen sharply, and then stopped short, suddenly remembering she was a guest, and the dinner finished in a constrained silence.

"Bob and I will go on to Dublin to-morrow," she told Kathleen later, "and don't bother about us this evening. We will look after each other, and you stay with Mrs Blake."

When Doreen and her _fiance_ returned, she made up some sort of a tale to them, and then persuaded every one to go to bed early, that Lawrence, if he returned, might come in and go to his room unnoticed.

She did not go to bed herself, however, but sat up with her door open, waiting for him. At two o'clock in the morning she heard his latchkey in the front door, and went down bravely to meet him.

When Lawrence saw her he glared at her angrily, but she took no notice, though inwardly shocked at the unspeakable change on his face since the morning. He was deathly white, with an almost tigerish expression, and she knew he had been drinking.

"I couldn't rest until I knew you had come in," she said, trying to speak naturally.

"What did you suppose I should do?" with a bitter sneer. "Go and drown myself, or cross to England with a pistol! No, thank you! I'm not that sort. I shall not oblige any _Police News_ with a paragraph."

"What are you going to do, Lawrie?" unheeding him. "Bob and I are going on to Dublin to-morrow--you come too--"

He strode into the dining-room without answering--and she followed him.

On the sideboard stood the spirit decanters as usual, and she saw his eye instantly turn to them, and a second later he had his hand upon the whisky.

Quickly she was at his side:

"Don't have any more, Lawrie," pleadingly. "You have had quite enough,"

and she placed her hand over his. For one moment he glared at her again, then let go, and sinking into a chair by the table, buried his face in his hands.

"Have you been playing billiards?" she asked, resting her hand on his shoulder.

"Yes."

"For high sums, I suppose?"

"Yes."

"I hope there isn't misery in some other house in Newry to-night, through you."

"On the contrary, some of them must feel quite rich."

"Then you lost?"

"Yes."

"I'm very glad."

"Thank you," dryly.

Gwen stood looking at him, noting vaguely the lines that had deepened in his face, and wondering what to do.

"Lawrie."

"Yes."

"Your mother is ill. She fainted, and Bob carried her upstairs."

He winced, but his face did not soften.

"You must have behaved like a blackguard to her," and there was a tremor of intense feeling in Gwen's voice.

"It's quite likely. But I warned her--why did she come in? I told her not to, and she has known me long enough."

"I wonder what Paddy would think of it?"

He ground his teeth.