Winding Paths Part 72

"What in the world is the matter with Alymer?" she asked. "I had tea with him this afternoon. He seems awfully down on his luck."

"I don't know what it is," d.i.c.k answered. "He is certainly not very gay - yet that last case he won before the Law Courts closed should have put him in fine feather for the whole vacation. Did you ask him if anything was wrong?"

"Yes; but he would only prevaricate. He has been in France, you know, studying the language, and he saw Lorraine, but he says very little about her. I wish I had time to go over and see her. Why, in the name of goodness, is she not acting this winter?"

But d.i.c.k could not help her to any solution, and an acc.u.mulation of work kept her too busy to brood on the puzzle.

It was at the end of October the shock came.

Hal reached home before Dudley that evening, and found a foreign letter awaiting her, written in an unfamiliar handwriting, and bearing the post mark of the little village where Lorraine so obstinately remained.

With an instant sense of apprehension, she tore open the envelope, and read its contents with incredulity, amazement, and anxiety struggling together in her face.

Then she sat down in the nearest chair with a gasp, and stared blankly at the window, as if she could not grasp the import of the bewildering news.

The letter was from Jean, partly in French, and partly in English. It informed Hal, in somewhat ambiguous phrases, that La Chere Madame was very ill, and daily growing weaker, and she, Jean, was very worried and unhappy about her. She thought if mademoiselle could possibly get away, she should come at once. It then went on to make a statement which took Hal's breath away.

"L'enfant!... l'enfant!..." she repeated in a gasping sort of undertone, and stared with bewildered eyes at the window.

What could have happened?... What dit it all mean?

Then with a rush all the full significance seemed to come to her.

Lorraine, ill and alone in that little far-away village, and this incomprehensible thing coming upon her; no one but a paid, though devoted maid to take care of her; no friend to help er in the inevitable hours of dread, and perhaps painful memories and apprehensions.

All her quick, warm-hearted sympathy welled up and filled her soul. Of course she must go at once, to-night if possible, or early to-morrow.

Yet as she struggled to collect her thoughts and form plans, she was conscious of a dumb, nervous cry: "What will Dudley say?... What in the world will Dudley say?"

CHAPTER XLI

He came in while she was still trying to compose herself for the struggle she antic.i.p.ated; and because she had not yet made any headway, he saw at once that something alarming had happened.

He glanced at the envelope lying on the table, then at the open letter in her hand, and then at her face.

"What is the matter?... Have you had bad news?"

For one dreadful moment, observing the foreign stamp, he thought something might have happened to Ethel, who was taking her month's holiday on the Continent. When Hal looked blankly into his face, as if quite unable to tell him, he added hurriedly:

"Is your letter about Ethel? ... Is she Ill?"

"No, it is not Ethel," Hal answered, noticing, in spite of her distress, his unconcealed anxiety. "Some one is ill, but it is not Ethel."

"Is it Lorraine?"

He spoke with quiet, kindly concern now, being rea.s.sured concerning the swift dread that had sized him.

"Yes," Hal said nervously. "She is very ill. Dudley, I must go to her at once."

She got up as if she could not bear the strain seated, and moved away to the window.

"It's all rather terrible," speaking hurriedly; "but don't... don't...

be upset about it. I can't bear it. I _must_ go, whatever you say, and I want you to help me."

"What is the matter?" He came close to her and tried to see her face.

"What has happened, Hal?"

"Lorry is in trouble." She was half crying now; "I have had a letter from Jean. She has told me something I did not know. I did not even suspect it. But I must go. You will surley see that I must go, Dudley."

"Tell me what it is," he said, in a voice so kind, she turned and looked into his face, almost in surprise. He met her eyes, and, reading all the distress there, he added:

"Don't be afraid, Hal. I know I was an awful prig a little while ago, but... but... it's not the same since Doris jilted me, and since Basil died. I see many things differently now. Tell me Lorraine's trouble."

"She is so ill, because if she lives until next December she will have a little one. Oh, do you understand, Dudley? She is there all alone, because she made a mess of her life and is obliged to hide. I must go to her. You will help me, won't you?"

She glanced at him doubtfully, and then a swift relief seemed to fill her face.

"Yes, certainly you must go,' he said gravely; "if Jean says she is ill now, I think you should go at once, and see for yourself just how things are."

"Oh, how good of you. I was afraid you would be angry and object."

He smiled a little sadly.

"I've enough money in hand for your ticket. You can catch the early boat train, and I'll send some more by to-morrow's post. Had you better see Mr. Elliott about being absent from the office for a day or two, or shall I see him in the morning?"

"He won't mind. I've got everything straight since I came back, and Miss White will do my work for a day or two. If you would see him in the morning, and just tell him Miss Vivian is very ill and I was sent for. He knows what friends we are, and would understand."

"Very well. Now you must have some dinner, and get to bed, for you will have a long, anxious day to-morrow."

In a sudden rush of feeling, she put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him.

"I'm so grateful," she said, in a quivering voice. "I can't tell you.

It has all come upon me as a shock. I had not the faintest suspicion."

It was not natural to him to be demonstrative, and he only turned away with a slight embarra.s.sment, saying:

"I'm sure you hadn't. But I feel I can trust you now, Hal, to be discreet as well as quixotic. Your mission, if one can call it such, will need both."

Then he sought to distract her mind for the present, and while they dined he talked of many things to interest her.

"Do you know that Alymer Hermon has just got the chance of his life?"

he told her, before they rose. "I head to-day he is to appear with Hall in this big libel case. Sir James Jameson told me at the Club.

He said Hall had taken a great fancy to him, and if he does really well over this case he's going to take him up. He is very fortunate. Not one man in a thousand would get such a chance at his age. I hope he will do well; I like him; and if he isn't a success over this he may never get such an opportunity again."

"When does the case come on?"