Sir Hilton's Sin Part 45

So vast is woman's power over man.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

FURTHER IN.

The sound of his wife's voice had a wonderful effect upon Sir Hilton for the moment, and, turning sharply, he rushed out of the drawing-room and down the pa.s.sage leading to the servants' portion of the house.

"Here, Sam," cried Syd, "come on and stop him. He's going into another fit."

The boy dashed after his uncle, closely followed by the trainer, and they overtook him in the pale light of the kitchen, whose window faced the east, standing, panting hard, with his hand upon the table, where he was collared by one on each side.

"What are you doing that for?" he cried.

"Never you mind, Sir Hilton. You've got to stop here."

"That's right, uncle. Come, steady! No larks."

"Larks, sir? Let go. I insist. Let go, I tell you. I'm going to meet your aunt, Syd. I must have some explanation with her about all this."

"Well, if you come to that, Sir Hilton, that's what I want too about my gal. If it's all the same, I'll go back first."

"That you don't," cried Syd, shifting his hold from uncle to father-in-law. "There'll be row enough without having that in the mess.

Hark! Can't you hear talking?" he whispered. "Aunt's having it over with Molly. Let them settle it before we go in."

"Look here, don't you talk like that, my boy, to one old enough to be your grandfather," protested the trainer. "You're not standing up for my gal's rights as you should do, and if you don't I must."

"But one thing at a time, old man. Let's get uncle quieted down first."

"Quieted down?" cried Sir Hilton. "What do you mean? Here, Syd, my throat's on fire. Fill that jug at the tap."

"Won't hurt him, will it?" whispered Syd.

"I d'know, my lad; I'd charnsh it now."

The jug was filled at the tap over the sink and handed to Sir Hilton, who drank long and deeply, setting it down with a loud "Ha!" just as a familiar voice rang out loudly--

"Hilton! Hilton! Are you there?"

For as the pair dashed out after Sir Hilton the door through which they pa.s.sed closed with a dull, jarring thud, which seemed to bring down another flower-pot in the conservatory; but this was not heard by Lady Lisle, who entered the drawing-room excitedly, closely followed by Lady Tilborough and the doctor, all looking pallid and all-nightish in the yellow light of the candles mingled with the pale grey dawn stealing in.

"Now, pray listen to me, my dear Lady Lisle," said Lady Tilborough, in a soothing voice. "Do be reasonable."

"I will not listen to you, madam," cried Lady Lisle, pa.s.sionately.

"Pray do now. For your own sake as well as your husband's."

"He is no husband of mine," cried Lady Lisle, excitedly.

"Be reasonable. Come, think, my dear madam. You cannot wish to have a scandal. Your servants are in the hall. You cannot want them to hear."

"They must hear--the whole world will hear. Oh, it is dreadful, dreadful!"

"Say a word to her, for heaven's sake, Jack!" whispered Lady Tilborough; and the doctor stepped forward.

"Yes, Lady Lisle," he said firmly, "I am bound to speak--as, temporarily, your medical attendant."

"Wretched man, why did you not let me die?" cried Lady Lisle, pacing up and down and wringing her hands.

"Because I wished to save an estimable lady for a reconciliation with an old friend; for really, my dear madam, when you calm down, you will see that you have been most unreasonable."

"Unreasonable? Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the unhappy woman, hysterically.

"Yes, my dear madam; most unreasonable. First in insisting upon leaving Oakleigh at this extremely early hour in the morning, after you had been suffering from a congeries of hysterical fits. Recollect what you promised me."

"I recollect nothing but my wrongs," cried Lady Lisle.

"Then as your medical attendant, called in upon this emergency by my friend, Lady Tilborough, it is my duty to tell you that you gave me your word that you would be calm if I allowed you to return."

"Yes," said the suffering woman, bitterly. "I promised because I could not bear to stay longer in that hateful woman's house."

"It seemed to me, madam, that the lady whom you so wrong, behaved in a very loving and sisterly way to you in an emergency."

"Yes; brought about by her machinations."

"Oh, dear!" sighed Lady Tilborough. "What an unreasonable darling it is! Machinations! Why, I only asked a dear old friend to help me and save me from ruin, and he responded n.o.bly."

"Ruin? You helped to ruin him by luring him back to the diabolical horrors of the Turf."

"There, there, my dear; I won't argue with you, certainly not quarrel.

Pray, pray try and calm yourself, or you'll be having another of those terrible hysterical fits."

"Yes," said Granton, "and worse than the last."

"I am glad. It will be my last. Infamous woman, why did you drag me to your house?"

"Because, my dear, I didn't like to see a lady in your position ill and suffering in such a place as the Tilborough Arms."

"And because, my dear madam, when I found how bad you were I begged Lady Tilborough to save you from a long hour's drive home when your coachman was not to be found."

"But you lured my husband away, woman."

"Well, I have confessed to that, my dear madam, and I am sorry that you should look upon it with different eyes from mine. I don't think I have been such a terrible sinner, do you, doctor?" she added, with a look which made the gentleman addressed flutter as regarded his nerves.

But he had the medical man's command over self, and he said quietly: "I think when Lady Lisle has grown calmer she will look a little more leniently upon her neighbour's actions. Now, pray, my dear madam, let me beg of you to--Ah! that's better. Don't try to restrain your tears.

They are the greatest anodyne for an overwrought mind. Now, remember your promise. Let me ring for your maid. A cup of tea and a good long sleep, and the racing escapade will wear a different aspect by the light of noon."

"Oh, doctor, doctor!" sobbed the poor woman, pa.s.sionately, as she yielded to Granton's pressure, and sank into a lounge; "you do not know--you do not know!"