The Irrational Knot Part 67

Eliza had nothing to suggest. "I'm sure, maam," she pleaded, "if she wont mind you, she wont mind me--bad manners to her!"

Mrs. Myers hesitated. The lodger became noisier.

"I spose Ive got to go," said Mrs. Myers, plaintively. She went upstairs and found Susanna lying on the sofa, groaning, with a dressing-gown and a pair of thick boots on.

"What _is_ the matter with you, Miss Susan? Youre goin on fit to raise the street."

"For G.o.d's sake go and get something for me. Make the doctor do something. I'm famishing. I must be poisoned."

"Lord forbid!"

"Look at me. I cant eat anything. Oh! I cant even drink. I tell you I am dying of thirst."

"Well, Miss Susan, thers plenty for you to eat and drink."

"What is the good of that, when I can neither eat nor drink? Nothing will stay inside me. If I could only swallow brandy, I shouldnt care. I thought I could die drunk. Oh! Send Eliza out for some laudanum. I cant stand this: I'll kill myself."

"Be quiet, Miss Susan: youll be better presently. Whats the use of talking-about the doctor? He says youll not be able to drink for days, and that you will get your health back in consequence. You are doing yourself no good by screeching like that, and you are ruining me and my house."

"Your house is all you care about. Curse you! I hope you may die deserted yourself. Dont go away. _Dear_ Aunt Sally, you wont leave me here alone, will you? If you do, I'll scream like a hundred devils."

"I dont know what to do with you," said Mrs. Myers, crying. "Youll drive me as mad as yourself. Why did I ever let you into this house?"

"Oh, bother! Are _you_ beginning to howl now? Have you any sardines, or anything spicy? I think I could eat some salted duck. No, I couldnt, though. Go for the doctor. There must be something that will do me good.

What use is he if he can't set me right? All I want is something that will make me able to drink a tumbler of brandy."

"The Lord help you! Praise goodness! here's Mrs. Forster coming up.

Whatll she think of you if you keep moaning like that? Mrs. Forster: will you step in here and try to quiet her a bit? She's clean mad."

"Come here," cried Susanna, as Marian entered. "Come and sit beside me.

You may get out, you old cat: I dont want you any longer."

"Hush, pray," said Marian, putting her bonnet aside and sitting down by the sofa. "What is the matter?"

"The same as last night, only a great deal worse," said Susanna, shutting her eyes and turning her head aside. "It's all up with me this time, Mrs. Ned. I'm dying, not of drink, but of the want of it. Is that fiend of a woman gone?"

"Yes. You ought not to wound her as you did just now. She has been very kind to you."

"I dont care. Oh, dear me, I wonder how long this is going to last?"

"Shall I go for the doctor?"

"No; what can he do? Stay with me. I wish I could sleep or eat."

"You will be better soon. The doctor says that Nature is making an effort to rescue you from your habit by making it impossible for you to drink. Try and be patient. Will you not take off those heavy boots?"

"No, I cant feel my feet without them. I shall never be better," said Susanna, writhing impatiently. "I'm done for. How old are you? You neednt mind telling me. I shall soon be beyond repeating it."

"I was twenty-five in June last"

"I am only twenty-nine. I started at eighteen, and got to the top of the tree in seven years. I came down quicker than I went up. I might have gone on easily for fifteen years more, only for drinking champagne. I wish I had my life to live over again: you wouldnt catch me playing burlesque. If I had got the chance, I know I could have played tragedy or real Italian opera. I had to work hard at first; and they wont fill my place, very readily: thats one comfort. My cleverness was my ruin.

Ned was not half so quick. It used to take him months to learn things that I picked up offhand, and yet you see how much better he has done than I."

"Do not disturb yourself with vain regrets. Think of something else.

Shall we talk about Marmaduke?"

"No, I dont particularly care to. Somehow, at my pa.s.s, one thinks most about one's self, and about things that happened long ago. People that I came to know later on, like Bob, seem to be slipping away from me. There was a baritone in my father's company, a tremendous man, with shining black eyes, and a voice like a great bell--quite pretty at the top, though: he must have been sixty at least; and he was very fat; but he was the most dignified man I ever saw. You should have heard him do the Duke in Lucrezia Borgia, or sing Pro Peccatis from Rossini's Stabat Mater! I was ten years old when he was with us, and my grand ambition was to sing with him when I grew up. He would shake his head if he saw Susanetta now. I would rather hear him sing three bars than have ten visits from Bob. Oh, dear! I thought this cursed pain was getting numbed, but it is worse than ever."

"Try to keep from thinking of it. I have often wondered that you never speak of your child. I have heard from my friend in London that it is very well and happy."

"Oh, you mean Lucy. She was a lively little imp."

"Would you not like to see her again?"

"No, thank you. She is well taken care of, I suppose. I am glad she is out of my hands. She was a nuisance to me, and I am not a very edifying example for her. What on earth should I want to see her for?"

"I wish I had the good fortune to be a mother."

Susanna laughed. "Never say die, Mrs. Ned. You dont know what may happen to you yet. There now! I know, without opening my eyes, that you are shocked, bless your delicacy! How do you think I should have got through life if I'd been thin-skinned? What good does it do you? You are pining away in this hole of a lodging. You squirm when Mrs. Myers tries to be friendly with you; and I sometimes laugh at your expression when Eliza treats you to a little blarney about your looks. Now _I_ would just as soon gossip and swear at her as go to tea with the Queen."

"I am not shocked at all. You see as badly as other people when your eyes are shut."

"They will soon shut up forever. I half wish they would do it at once, I wonder whether I will get any ease before there is an end of me."

"Perhaps the end of you on earth will be a good beginning for you somewhere else, Susanna."

"Thank you. Now the conversation has taken a nice, cheerful turn, hasnt it? Well, I cant be much worse off than I am at present. Anyhow, I must take my chance."

"Would you like to see a clergyman? I dont want to alarm you: I am sure you will get better: the doctor told me so; but I will go for one if you like."

"No: I dont want to be bothered--at least not yet. Besides, I hate clergymen, all except your brother, the doctor, who fell in love with me."

"Very well. I only suggested it in case you should feel uneasy."

"I dont feel quite easy; but I dont care sufficiently about it to make a fuss. It will be time enough when I am actually at death's door. All I know is that if there is a place of punishment in the next world, it is very unfair, considering what we suffer in this. I didnt make myself or my circ.u.mstances. I think I will try to sleep. I am half dead as it is with pain and weariness. Dont go until I am asleep."

"I will not. Let me get you another pillow."

"No," said Susanna, drowsily: "dont touch me."

Marian sat listening to her moaning respiration for nearly half an hour.

Then, having some letters to write, she went to her own room to fetch her desk. Whilst she was looking for her pen, which was mislaid, she heard Susanna stirring. The floor creaked, and there was a clink as of a bottle. A moment later, Marian, listening with awakened suspicion, was startled by the sound of a heavy fall mingled with a crash of breaking gla.s.s. She ran back into the next room just in time to see Susanna, on her hands and knees near the stove, lift her white face for a moment, displaying a bleeding wound on her temple, and then stumble forward and fall p.r.o.ne on the carpet. Marian saw this; saw the walls of the room revolve before her; and fainted upon the sofa, which she had reached without knowing how.

When she recovered the doctor was standing by her; and Eliza was picking up fragments of the broken bottle. The smell of the spilled brandy reminded her of what had happened.

"Where is Miss Conolly?" she said, trying to collect her wits. "I am afraid I fainted at the very moment when I was most wanted."

"All right," said the doctor. "Keep quiet; youll be well presently. Dont be in a hurry to talk."