The Red House Mystery. Duchess

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СКАЧАТЬ That's her young man. What did I say? Don't you wish you were young, eh? Why, she looks upon you as a Methusaler!"

      Darkham drew his breath sharply. He looked quickly round him. Had any one heard? The woman's hideous vulgarity made him sick. Try as he would, how could he raise himself with this incubus hanging round his neck?

      He moved away, tired at heart, half mad with misery.

      Agatha and Dillwyn had reached the garden by this time—a garden lit by heaven's own lamps, and sweet with the breath of sleeping flowers.

      A few other couples were strolling up and down the paths—but over there was a garden-chair untenanted. They moved towards it in a leisurely fashion. Whether they stood or walked or sat, they were together—that was the principal thing.

      "The next is mine, too," said he, in a glad voice, as if dwelling on some joy that nothing could spoil.

      "Yes. We must take care not to lose it."

      "And yet it is so lovely out here. Are you sure you are warm enough? And, at all events, it is a good thing to know we need not hurry—that there is no other partner waiting for either of us."

      He seemed to dwell upon the "we" and "us" as if they conveyed great sweetness to him. His heart seemed full. All at once it seemed to him as though he must speak to her—must tell her of the love that filled his heart. The hour, the loneliness, the silence, all tempted him, and yet he feared!

      She had known him so short a time—and what was there in her manner to him that should give him courage? Could he dare to put it to the touch to win—or lose it all? To lose! That was what held him back.

      Agatha was speaking.

      "I am so sorry you waited for me," said she, lying unconsciously. Had not her heart beaten with delight because he had waited? "And you, too, who are so fond of dancing."

      "Ah! fond! That is a strong expression. I am not a slave to it, you know."

      "No." She paused. She seemed to study him for a moment. His face, young, strong, with a sort of defiance in it, as though he could and would conquer his world, fascinated her. It had always fascinated her from the first moment she saw it, now three months ago. It was not so much the kindliness of it as its strength that attracted her. She, too, could be strong. She felt in harmony with him from the very first. He was, as has been said, not strictly handsome, but his eyes were dark and expressive, and his mouth firm. The pose of his head was charming and his figure well-built and athletic. He was always in splendid spirits, and the milk of human kindness ran swiftly within his veins. Already the poor in his district began to adore him, for kind were his words and encouraging his smiles, and these counted with the sickly ones even more than the shillings that so often came out of a pocket where but few shilling lay. He had begun his fight with life unaided, save by the influence of old Reginald Greatorex, who had property in Rickton, and had got him appointed there, but he felt no fears. A natural buoyancy upheld him.

      "Well," said he, smiling at her. He was wondering at the depth of her regard.

      "I was thinking," said she, starting slightly, "that you could never be a slave to anything."

      Dillwyn looked at her now.

      "There you wrong me," said he. "I could be—I am—a slave!"

      "It is difficult to believe," said she calmly.

      "Why should it be difficult?"

      "I don't know. But you don't lend yourself readily to the idea. You look as if you could never be easily swayed or governed."

      "Not easily, perhaps. But—" He put out his hand as if to clasp hers.

      At this moment a sudden movement in the bushes behind her struck upon Agatha's ears. She sprang to her feet.

CHAPTER VII

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      A sense of faintness crept over her. By some strange prescience, she knew who stood behind there in the darkness, concealed, listening. A great horror took possession of her. Why should he haunt her so? What was she to him? He who had a living wife!

      She turned to Dillwyn, who had risen too.

      "Come back to the house," said she. Her voice was nervous, but very low. She moved away from the seat, on which she had been resting, with a haste that was almost feverish. Dillwyn followed her, his mind disturbed. Had she fathomed his determination to speak to her, and had she purposely prevented his speaking? He went at once to the point, as he always did when uncertain or perplexed.

      "Have I offended you?" asked he.

      "No! Oh, no! You must not think that. How could you have offended me? But I thought I heard some one—there—behind the shrubs."

      "But even so, there are people all over the place to-night."

      "Yes, I know." Her tone now was almost heartbroken. She stopped suddenly and held out her hand to him. "You are still my friend?" said she.

      "I shall be your friend to the last day of my life," said Dillwyn. But his tone was heavy; the elasticity that always distinguished it had gone out of it for the first time.

      In silence they reached the house. Not another word was said about the dance impending. Agatha seeing a couch surrounded by fragrant shrubs, went towards it.

      "The dance has begun," said Dillwyn, but so coldly that she shrank from him.

      "I am tired," she said.

      "Then you had better rest here. Shall I bring you an ice?"

      "Thank you."

      He went away. Agatha dropped on to the lounge and gave her misery full play. She had put an end to it all—all that might have made her dull life a very spring of joy. And yet to tell the man who loved her that another man—a married man—pursued her with his hateful attentions was more than she could do.

      Now, left alone, her spirit failed her, and her eyes filled with tears. She would have given all she possessed to be at home, in her own room, alone, so that her grief might have full sway. She almost hoped he would not come back with the ice. She dreaded the coldness of his regard more than his absence. She—

      "Can I do anything for you, Miss Nesbitt?"

      Dr. Darkham stood beside her. It was to Agatha as though he had risen from the dead. She had supposed him still outside in the garden. But he had followed her apparently.

      "No, thank you," she said, in a voice well kept in order.

      "You are not dancing, then?"

      "Not for the moment."

      "Your partner is Dr. Dillwyn?"

      "Yes."

      "He was your partner for the last two, I think?"

      Agatha СКАЧАТЬ