The Daughter Pays Part 32

He had let her go.

Why?

Because it was not in his power to hold her. Even if he had followed a certain wild, hateful impulse which bade him keep her, even by means of locked doors and imprisonment, he would have held but the husk of her.

The lonely spirit which animated her, which was the thing he loved, and met for the first time, would not have been there in her prison, but away with the child she loved. His success would have been sheer failure.

Whereas now, deep in his heart, not to be completely annihilated, lurked the faint hope that his present failure might possibly, by some scarcely conceivable good fortune, turn into success.

The miles flew past unnoticed, while he sat rapt within himself. As the car came to a standstill before the dark porch of Omberleigh, he was reflecting upon the strangeness of the fact that he had once thought Virginia's resemblance to her mother so striking.

Already she had almost ceased to remind him of his former bitterness. A wholly new image of her had grown up in his heart. Before it for the last weeks he had been burning incense. He had placed it in a sacred niche upon a pedestal.

To-night he had taken it out. He wanted to hold it in his arms, to make it his.

What if it failed to pa.s.s the almost superhuman test which he had devised for it?

CHAPTER XIX

ABSENCE

"_My whole life is so strange: as strange It is, my husband, whom I have not wronged, Should hate and harm me._"--The Ring and the Book.

As once before, when the doctor visited her, Joey Ferris was busy in the garden, cutting off dead blooms. Her little boys busily waited on her, each with his small barrow, in which they collected the faded flowers which she tossed upon the path, and ran off with them down the long walks to the rubbish heap, puffing and blowing to announce the fact of their being goods trains or expresses, or light engines, as the fancy took them.

It was nearly lunch time, and Ferris was going to bring home a man who had showed signs of interest in the lead-mine scheme. As the stable clock chimed a quarter to one, the mistress of Perley Hatch straightened her back, took off her gardening gloves, rubbed her nose reflectively, and wondered whether she "ought to change."

As the doubt crossed her mind, she looked up to see some one approaching across the gra.s.s, and with a vast surprise recognised Gaunt of Omberleigh.

"Why," cried she very heartily, advancing to meet him with hand outstretched, "I _am_ glad to see you! Didn't think you knew your way to this house! What's the news this morning? Better, I hope?"

"It seems to be astonishingly good. The change of treatment and my wife's presence, taken together, have worked a miracle. The child, who was dangerously ill, is making marked progress every day."

"Oh, well, that is some consolation for you, isn't it?" said Joey, her eyes full of sympathy, and her voice almost tender. "I think you are just the most unselfish man I have ever heard of--letting Virgie go off like that!"

"Please, Mrs. Ferris----"

"It's no use please-Mrs.-Ferrising me! Some men in your place would have said things! First she herself falls ill, and then, just as your love and care has brought her round, off she goes and leaves you on the All-alone Stone! Percy has been on the point of riding over to try and persuade you to come to us for a bit of dinner, but he has been so taken up over his mine."

"You are more than kind, Mrs. Ferris. I fear I've been a most unneighbourly neighbour for many years. Now I am going to turn over a new leaf. As a preliminary, will you give me some lunch to-day? I want to talk to Ferris about his mine. Dr. Dymock was telling me something of it."

Joey was overjoyed. "Need you ask?" she joyfully inquired. "Come to the house and wash your hands, while I tell Daniel to take your horse round. I conclude you rode over?" She fixed her guest with her shrewd, twinkling glance, and thought that he had done something to himself, she hardly knew what. Was it that he wore a new, very well-cut riding suit, with tan gaiters, and that his hair was trimmed more sprucely than usual? Or was he really younger, when you saw him close, than he appeared from a distance? Certainly he had altered in some subtle fashion, and for the better. He did not look well, though. There were black marks under his eyes, as if he had not slept.

Tom and Bill came rushing up at the moment, charging with their barrows. They were wholly untroubled with shyness, and loudly announced that Tom was a Midland express from Glasgow, and Bill a pilot engine.

Gaunt stopped and gravely shook hands with each, holding the plump, earthy moist little fingers curiously in his brown, muscular grip. Then he picked up Bill by his waist, and seated him upon his shoulder. "Now you're in the look-out--the signal-box," said he. "Is the line clear?"

This was enchanting. Bill shouted to Tom to go and be the excursion and seized Gaunt's hand, drawing back his arm to represent a lever.

"I'm off'ring the 4.10 to Manton box!" he cried.

"Fancy your playing with them," said Joey, deeply gratified. "That's what Virgie did. Bill, you remember the pretty lady who came to tea and told you about little Runt? This is her husband, that she belongs to."

"Oh, are you?" cried the excursion train, turning right round upon the permanent way in horrifying fashion. "Tell us about little Runt again--do!"

"I don't know that story, Bill. I'll have to get the pretty lady to tell it to me, then perhaps I can pa.s.s it on."

"Where is she?" cried Tom. "Have you got her here?"

"No, Tom. She has gone to be with her own little sister, who is ill. I dare say she tells her stories, to pa.s.s the time while she has to be in bed, flat on her back."

"Flat on her back? Beastly!" said Tom.

"Why's that for?" asked his brother.

"Because her back was hurt when she was quite a baby. She was thrown out of a motor-car, and has always been ill."

"You'd better not let our baby go in the car, mummy," cried the little brother promptly; and Gaunt felt a movement of affection for the child whose feeling spoke so readily.

They moved across the gra.s.s towards the house, and suddenly Joey gave a pleased exclamation. "Here comes Percy!" said she brightly.

Ferris was advancing, accompanied by a young man who, though he wore a country suit, had the air of London about his hat and his boots. He was a distinguished-looking, tall fellow, and Gaunt, as he set Bill upon his feet upon the gra.s.s, knew that he had seen him before. As the stranger drew near their eyes met, and the same look of half-recognition appeared in both faces.

Ferris's cordial welcome to Gaunt was somewhat flamboyant. He wrung his hand a little too often and too vehemently. Then he introduced his friend, Mr. Rosenberg. That cleared up the mystery, as far as Gaunt was concerned. Instantly he saw the gallery flooded with summer sunshine, the glimmering floors, the mellow canvases, the figure of the beautiful girl, bending over the inscription at the foot of the marble cupid.

To Gerald Rosenberg memory had come without difficulty. The occasion when he first set eyes on Gaunt was a critical moment in his life--how critical he hardly knew at the time. The same picture was stamped upon his own brain: the picture of Virginia beginning to descend the staircase, and of his own turning of the head with a consciousness of being watched--of meeting face to face a pair of eyes, ironic, intent, challenging.

"This is our neighbour, Gaunt of Omberleigh," Ferris was jovially proclaiming. "Luckiest man in the county; just married the most lovely girl I ever saw in my life."

_Gaunt!_ That was the name of Virginia's husband! She had said that her future home would be Derbyshire! Was this--this man--her husband? He grew quite pale.

"Was it you," he stammered, "_you_ who married Miss Mynors?"

Gaunt a.s.sented. The eyes of the two men once more met. "I saw you,"

slowly said Rosenberg, "at Hertford House, when I went there to meet my sister and her friend. You were in the Gallery."

"I was; and I saw Miss Mynors."

Gerald felt the blood rush to his head. "For the first time?"

Gaunt again a.s.sented mutely. He was filled with exultation. Unhappy and uncertain as he was, insecure as he knew his tenure of his prize, at least she was his at present, at least he might claim this one triumph.

"Fell in love at first sight, and no wonder!" cried Ferris, with enthusiasm. "Isn't he the luckiest chap on earth? I really don't think I have ever seen anybody quite as lovely as Mrs. Gaunt."

"You are right--that is the almost universal opinion. I congratulate Mr. Gaunt," said Gerald, rallying his composure.