The New Warden Part 20

The Warden moved on his seat uneasily.

"Belinda speaks of your _engagement_ to Gwendolen," said Lady Dashwood, and her voice this time demanded an answer.

"I am not engaged," he said, turning his eyes to his sister's face slowly, "but, I am pledged to marry her--if it is her wish."

Lady Dashwood's eyes quavered.

"Is it your wish?" she asked.

The Warden rose from his chair as if to go.

"I can't discuss the matter further, Lena. I cannot tell you more. I had no right, I had no reason, for telling you anything before, because nothing had been concluded--it may not be concluded. It depends on her, and she has not spoken to me decisively."

He moved away from the table.

"You haven't finished your coffee, your sandwiches," said Lady Dashwood, to give herself time, and to help her to self-control. Oh, why had he put himself and his useful life in the hands of a mere child--a child who would never become a real woman? Why did he deliberately plan his own martyrdom?

"I don't want any more," he said, "and I have letters to write."

"Jim," she called to him gently, "tell me at least--if you are happy--whether----"

"I can't talk just now--not just now, Lena," he said.

"But Belinda takes the matter as settled--otherwise the letter is not merely absurd--but outrageous!"

The Warden hesitated in his slow stride towards the door.

"I am not going to have Belinda here on Sat.u.r.day. There is no room for her. She can't come till May has gone." Lady Dashwood spoke this in a firm, rapid voice.

"That is for you to decide," he said. "You are mistress here."

He was moving again when she said in a voice full of pain: "You say you can't talk just now, you can't speak to me of what is happening to you, of what may happen to you, when you, next to John, are more to me than anything else in the world. What happens to you means happiness or misery to me, and yet you _can't talk_!"

The Warden was arrested, stood still, and turned towards her.

"You owe me some consideration, Jim. I have no children, you have been a son as well as a brother to me. I can have no peace of mind, no joy in life if things go wrong with you. Yes, I repeat it--if things go wrong with you. I was your mother, Jim, for many years, and yet you say you can't discuss something that is of supreme importance! You are willing to go out of this room and leave me to spend a night sleepless with anxiety."

What his engagement to Gwendolen would mean to her was expressed more in her voice even than in her words. The Warden stood motionless.

"Be patient with me, Lena. I can't talk about it--I would if I could. I know all I owe to you--all I can never repay; but there is nothing more to tell you than that I have offered her a home. I have made a proposal--I was not aware that she had definitely accepted, and that is why I said nothing to you about it."

Lady Dashwood got up. She did not approach her brother. Her instinct told her not to touch him, or entreat him by such means. She made a step towards the hearth, and said in a m.u.f.fled voice--

"Will you answer one question? You can answer it."

He made no sound of a.s.sent.

"Are you in love with her? or"--and here Lady Dashwood's voice shook--"do you feel that she will help you? Do you think she will be helpful to--the College?"

There was a pause, and then the Warden's voice came to her; he was forcing himself to speak very calmly.

"I have no right to speak of what may not happen. Lena, can't you see that I haven't?"

The pause came again.

"You have answered it," said Lady Dashwood, in a broken voice.

There was no time to think now, for at that moment there came a sound that startled both of them and made them stand for a second with lifted heads listening.

"Some one screamed!" exclaimed Lady Dashwood.

The Warden was already at the door and had pulled it open. "The library!" he called out to her sharply, and he was gone. She hurried out after him, her heart beating with the sudden alarm. What had happened, what was it?

CHAPTER XII

THE GHOST

As soon as she had reached her room Gwendolen Scott sat down seriously by the little writing-table. Here was the paper and here was the pen, but the composition of the letter to the Warden was not even projected in her mind. The thoughts would not come.

"Dear Dr. Middleton," Gwen began with complete satisfaction. That was all right. After some thought she went on. "Mother asks me to give you her letter!" No, of course, that wouldn't do. Her mother wouldn't like him to know that she ordered the letter to be shown to him. Everything on the slip of paper was secret. It was not the first time that Gwen had received private slips of paper.

Gwen was obliged to tear up the sheet and begin again: "Dear Dr.

Middleton,"----

Now what would she say? It would take her all night. Of course, Louise looked in at the door and muttered something volubly.

"I can manage myself," called out Gwen from her table. "I'm not ready, and shan't be for hours."

Louise went away. Then it occurred to Gwen that she ought to have asked Louise to come back again in a few minutes, and take the letter. She really must try and get the letter written. So putting all the determination she was capable of into a supreme effort, she began: "I hope mother won't mind my showing you this letter." Gwen had heard her mother often say with complete self-satisfaction: "Only a fool is afraid to tell a useful lie, but only a fool tells one that isn't necessary!"

Indeed, Lady Belinda thought the second half of her maxim a bit clever, a bit penetrating, and Gwen had listened to it smiling and feeling that some reflected glory from her mother's wit was falling upon her, because she understood how clever it was. Now the implied untruth that Gwen was putting upon paper seemed to her very useful, and it looked satisfactory when written.

She went on: "I hope it wasn't wrong of me to tell what you said. You didn't say tell, but I didn't know what to do, as I am afraid to speak if you don't speak to me. You are so awfully, awfully kind that I know I oughtn't to be afraid, but I am. Do forgive stupid little me, and be kind again to

"Your solotory little

"GWENDOLEN SCOTT."

The spelling of "solitary" had caused Gwen much mental strain, and even when the intellectual conflict was over and the word written, it did not look quite right. Why had she not said "lonely"? But that, too, had its difficulties.

However, the letter was now finished. Louise had taken her at her word and had not returned. Gwen looked at her watch. It was past a quarter to eleven. At this hour she knew she mustn't ring the bell for a servant.

She could not search for Louise, she would be in Lady Dashwood's room.

She must take the letter herself to the library. She put the letter into an envelope and addressed it to Dr. Middleton. Then she added her mother's letter and sealed the whole.

Then she peeped out of her door and listened! All the lights were full on and there was no sound of any one moving.