That Mainwaring Affair Part 32

He was one of the first to land, and Miss Carleton, watching from the deck, saw, almost as soon as he had reached the pier, a fine-looking gentleman in the prime of life step quickly out from, the crowd, and, grasping him cordially by the hand, enter at once into earnest conversation. Harold Mainwaring turned towards the steamer for a parting salute, and, as both gentlemen raised their hats, she recognized in the new-comer, Alfred Barton, the junior member of the firm of Barton & Barton. She watched them until they disappeared in the crowd, then, turning to rejoin her companions, she noted, standing at a little distance, the slender, dark-eyed individual whom she had observed on previous occasions, also watching the scene with a smile of quiet satisfaction, much like that which Mr. Merrick's face had worn at the beginning of the Voyage.

CHAPTER XVII

LOVE FINDS A WAY

Less than three weeks later, Harold Mainwaring entered Miss Carleton's private drawing-room in Mr. Thornton's London home.

Soon after her arrival in the city she had received from him a brief note of apology, stating that unexpected business of the greatest importance would render it impossible for him to call as early as he had antic.i.p.ated; hence this was their first meeting since the leave-taking on board the "Campania."

As Miss Carleton stepped forward with cordial smile and hand extended to welcome her visitor, she was shocked at the change in his appearance. He was pale, almost haggard, and deep lines about the mouth and eyes told of some intense mental strain. She gave a low cry of astonishment, for it seemed as though years, instead of only a few weeks, had intervened since she had seen that face.

"Mr. Mainwaring, you have been ill!" she exclaimed.

"No, Miss Carleton," he replied, his face lighting with a rare smile; "I have been perfectly well, but loss of sleep and constant care and anxiety have told rather severely on me. Nothing more serious, I a.s.sure you."

"Anxiety!" she repeated, at the same time motioning him to a seat by her side. "Surely you do not antic.i.p.ate any difficulty in establishing your claim?"

"No difficulty so far as its validity is concerned. My attorneys a.s.sure me there can be no question as to that with such irrefutable proofs in my possession, but some unlooked-for complications have arisen, and we have had to prepare ourselves to meet them. But I did not call to burden you with my perplexities, Miss Carleton.

Tell me of yourself. I trust you have been well since I last saw you."

"Yes, I am usually well," said Miss Carleton, who thought she detected on the part of her visitor an avoidance of any details concerning himself; "but I have been rather bored of late." Then, in answer to his look of inquiry, she continued, "Of course, on account of Hugh Mainwaring's death, we have been living very quietly since our return, but, notwithstanding that fact, society has been paying due homage to the prospective increase of fortune and added social position of the Mainwarings. I am not particularly fond of society in the ordinary sense of the word, you know, and I have found it exceedingly tiresome."

"From reports, I should judge 'society' to be very fond of yourself,"

he remarked, with a smile.

"After its own fashion," she replied, smiling in return; "but it becomes very monotonous. It is the same old round, you know, only that just now it bows a little lower than formerly, while it mingles condolences and congratulations in the most absurd manner. One hears, 'Such a dreadful affair! so shocking, don't you know!' and 'Such delightful fortune! I quite envy you, my dear!' all in the same breath. I am only awaiting what society will say when the real facts become known."

Harold Mainwaring made no reply, but a strange pallor overspread his already pale face, at which Miss Carleton wondered.

"I have thought very often of you during these past weeks," she continued, "and felt quite impatient to learn how you were progressing, and your note was so brief, you know. It left so much unsaid. I fear you forget how interested I am in all that concerns yourself."

"No," he replied, slowly, "I do not forget; and I appreciate your interest in me even though I may not seem to,--even though I am forced, as you say, to leave so much unsaid which I had hoped to say."

Something in his manner, more than in what he said, thrilled her with a vague, undefinable sense of impending evil, and, during the slight pause which followed, she dreaded his next words, lest they should in some way confirm her apprehensions. He said nothing further, however, and when she spoke it was with an a.s.sumed lightness and cheerfulness which she was far from feeling.

"I hoped to have the pleasure of meeting you often ere this, and my uncle and cousin would have been so glad to welcome you to their home during your stay in London, but they have just gone out of town for a few days."

"Ordinarily, Miss Carleton," he replied, quietly, "I should be pleased to meet them, but on the present occasion, as I sail, to-morrow, I naturally care to see no one but yourself."

"To-morrow!" she exclaimed, while her own cheek suddenly paled.

"Do you return so soon?"

"Yes," he replied, observing her emotion, and speaking rapidly to conceal his own feelings; "my business is at last completed. I have been detained longer than I expected, and I found the situation more complex than I antic.i.p.ated, but I shall return well equipped for the battle."

"And you will win, I am sure. Tell me something regarding your plans," she added, with a wistful smile that touched her companion for more than he cared to betray.

"Mr. Alfred Barton goes with me to America," he said, speaking cheerfully; "and we have already cabled instructions to Mr.

Sutherland, my New York attorney, regarding the initiatory steps.

Mr. Barton and myself will be accompanied by James Wilson, the old servant who witnessed the execution of the will,"--Miss Carleton's eyes brightened,--"and also by a thoroughly competent, first-cla.s.s Scotland Yard officer."

She gave a low exclamation. "I see what a powerful witness old Wilson will make; but the detective, what will you do with him?"

"We are going to investigate the murder of Hugh Mainwaring," he said, calmly.

"Why, surely, you cannot mean--" she hesitated. "You do not think that suspicion will be directed against any of the guests at Fair Oaks, do you?"

"My dear Miss Carleton, I cannot say at present. Perhaps," he added, slowly, looking steadily into her eyes, "perhaps, when all is over, suspicion will be directed against myself so unmistakably that public opinion will p.r.o.nounce me guilty."

"I cannot believe that," she cried; "and even were it so,--should the whole world p.r.o.nounce you guilty,--I would still believe you innocent; and I think," she added, quickly, "that is your object in employing a detective: by finding the real murderer, you will establish your own entire innocence."

"May G.o.d grant it!" he replied, with a fervor she could not understand. "I thank you, Miss Carleton, for your kind words; I shall never forget them; and, however the battle goes, I can feel there is one, at least, whose friendship and confidence are mine, can I not?"

"Most a.s.suredly, Mr. Mainwaring. But why do you speak as though there were a possibility of defeat or failure? I am so confident that you will win, after the story of your life that you have given me, that I am all impatience to learn the outcome of the contest, just as having read one chapter in some thrilling romance I am eager for the next."

He smiled at her comparison. "Real life, as well as romance, sometimes contains startling surprises, Miss Carleton. The next chapter might prove less pleasant."

She looked keenly into his face for a moment, and her manner became as serious as his own.

"There must be something," she said, "of which you have not told me; if so, I will not ask your confidence until you choose to bestow it, nor do I trust you, personally, any the less. It only seemed to me, with your prospects of success, and the great wealth and enviable position so soon to become yours, there could be no unpleasant antic.i.p.ations for the future."

A bitter smile crossed his face, as he inquired in low, tense tones, "Of what avail are wealth and position to one who finds an insurmountable barrier placed between himself and all that he holds most precious on earth?"

"I fear I do not understand you," she replied. "I cannot imagine any barriers surrounding you; and did they exist, my judgment of you would be that you would find some way to surmount or destroy them."

"There are some barriers, some fetters," he said, gently, "against which humanity, even at its best, is powerless."

"Yes," she answered, a touch of sadness in her voice; "and there are sometimes sorrows and troubles in which even the closest and warmest friendship is powerless to aid or comfort."

"Don't allow yourself to think that of your friendship for me," he said, quickly. "a.s.sured of your confidence and sympathy, I shall be ten times stronger to face whatever the future may bring. If I succeed in what I am about to undertake, I shall one day tell you all that your friendship has been worth to me. If I fail, the thought that you believe in me and trust me, while it will not be all that I could wish, may be all that I can ask."

"And if you should fail," she queried, slowly, "would you give me no opportunity to show you, and others, my confidence in you, even then?"

"My dear Miss Carleton," he replied, in tones tremulous with suppressed feeling, "much as I appreciate your kindness, I would never, now or at any future time, willingly mar your life or your happiness by asking you to share any burden which might be laid upon me. I would at least leave you to go your way in peace, while I went mine."

"And I?" she asked, reproachfully. "Would it contribute to my happiness, do you think, to remember the sorrow and suffering which I was not allowed to share?"

"Could you not forget?"

"Never!"

The young man sprang to his feet abruptly, his face working with emotion, and took two or three turns about the room. At last he paused, directly in front of her, and, folding his arms, stood looking down into the beautiful eyes that met his own so unflinchingly. He was outwardly calm, but the smouldering fire which seemed to gleam in his dark eyes told of intense mental excitement.

"Miss Carleton," he said, slowly, in low tones, but yet which vibrated through her whole being, "you are almost cruel in your kindness; you will yet make a coward of me!"

"I have no fear of that," she answered, quietly.