Man and Wife. Уилки Коллинз

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СКАЧАТЬ Arnold, “you promise to take it to her? Your hand on the bargain!”

      He held out the hand which had saved Arnold’s life in Lisbon Harbor, and received Arnold’s promise, in remembrance of that time.

      “All right, old fellow. I can tell you how to find the place as we go along in the gig. By-the-by, there’s one thing that’s rather important. I’d better mention it while I think of it.”

      “What is that?”

      “You mustn’t present yourself at the inn in your own name; and you mustn’t ask for her by her name.”

      “Who am I to ask for?”

      “It’s a little awkward. She has gone there as a married woman, in case they’re particular about taking her in—”

      “I understand. Go on.”

      “And she has planned to tell them (by way of making it all right and straight for both of us, you know) that she expects her husband to join her. If I had been able to go I should have asked at the door for ‘my wife.’ You are going in my place—”

      “And I must ask at the door for ‘my wife,’ or I shall expose Miss Silvester to unpleasant consequences?”

      “You don’t object?”

      “Not I! I don’t care what I say to the people of the inn. It’s the meeting with Miss Silvester that I’m afraid of.”

      “I’ll put that right for you—never fear!”

      He went at once to the table and rapidly scribbled a few lines—then stopped and considered. “Will that do?” he asked himself. “No; I’d better say something spooney to quiet her.” He considered again, added a line, and brought his hand down on the table with a cheery smack. “That will do the business! Read it yourself, Arnold—it’s not so badly written.”

      Arnold read the note without appearing to share his friend’s favorable opinion of it.

      “This is rather short,” he said.

      “Have I time to make it longer?”

      “Perhaps not. But let Miss Silvester see for herself that you have no time to make it longer. The train starts in less than half an hour. Put the time.”

      “Oh, all right! and the date too, if you like.”

      He had just added the desired words and figures, and had given the revised letter to Arnold, when Sir Patrick returned to announce that the gig was waiting.

      “Come!” he said. “You haven’t a moment to lose!”

      Geoffrey started to his feet. Arnold hesitated.

      “I must see Blanche!” he pleaded. “I can’t leave Blanche without saying good-by. Where is she?”

      Sir Patrick pointed to the steps, with a smile. Blanche had followed him from the house. Arnold ran out to her instantly.

      “Going?” she said, a little sadly.

      “I shall be back in two days,” Arnold whispered. “It’s all right! Sir Patrick consents.”

      She held him fast by the arm. The hurried parting before other people seemed to be not a parting to Blanche’s taste.

      “You will lose the train!” cried Sir Patrick.

      Geoffrey seized Arnold by the arm which Blanche was holding, and tore him—literally tore him—away. The two were out of sight, in the shrubbery, before Blanche’s indignation found words, and addressed itself to her uncle.

      “Why is that brute going away with Mr. Brinkworth?” she asked.

      “Mr. Delamayn is called to London by his father’s illness,” replied Sir Patrick. “You don’t like him?”

      “I hate him!”

      Sir Patrick reflected a little.

      “She is a young girl of eighteen,” he thought to himself. “And I am an old man of seventy. Curious, that we should agree about any thing. More than curious that we should agree in disliking Mr. Delamayn.”

      He roused himself, and looked again at Blanche. She was seated at the table, with her head on her hand; absent, and out of spirits—thinking of Arnold, and set, with the future all smooth before them, not thinking happily.

      “Why, Blanche! Blanche!” cried Sir Patrick, “one would think he had gone for a voyage round the world. You silly child! he will be back again the day after to-morrow.”

      “I wish he hadn’t gone with that man!” said Blanche. “I wish he hadn’t got that man for a friend!”

      “There! there! the man was rude enough I own. Never mind! he will leave the man at the second station. Come back to the ball-room with me. Dance it off, my dear—dance it off!”

      “No,” returned Blanche. “I’m in no humor for dancing. I shall go up stairs, and talk about it to Anne.”

      “You will do nothing of the sort!” said a third voice, suddenly joining in the conversation.

      Both uncle and niece looked up, and found Lady Lundie at the top of the summer-house steps.

      “I forbid you to mention that woman’s name again in my hearing,” pursued her ladyship. “Sir Patrick! I warned you (if you remember?) that the matter of the governess was not a matter to be trifled with. My worst anticipations are realized. Miss Silvester has left the house!”

CHAPTER THE EIGHTH.

       Table of Contents

THE SCANDAL.

       Table of Contents

      IT was still early in the afternoon when the guests at Lady Lundie’s lawn-party began to compare notes together in corners, and to agree in arriving at a general conviction that “some thing was wrong.”

      Blanche had mysteriously disappeared from her partners in the dance. Lady Lundie had mysteriously abandoned her guests. Blanche had not come back. Lady Lundie had returned with an artificial smile, and a preoccupied manner. She acknowledged that she was “not very well.” The same excuse had been given to account for Blanche’s absence—and, again (some time previously), to explain Miss Silvester’s withdrawal from the croquet! A wit among the gentlemen declared it reminded him of declining a verb. “I am not very well; thou art not very well; she is not very well”—and so on. Sir Patrick too! Only think of the sociable Sir Patrick being in a state of seclusion—pacing up and down by himself in the loneliest part of the garden. And the servants again! it had even spread to the servants! They were presuming to whisper in corners, СКАЧАТЬ