Book: Uncle Max

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'I must go back again,' I returned quickly; 'she is not fit to be left
alone. I am not afraid of her now, Mr. Hamilton: she can do me no harm.
Please do not watch any longer.'

'You were ill: have you forgotten that? I ought not to allow you to make
yourself worse. Why,' with a sort of impatience visible in his manner,
'need you be troubled about our miserable affairs?'

'Let me go back for a little while,' I pleaded; for I knew if he ordered
me into my own room I should be obliged to obey him. 'It keeps her in
check, seeing me there: she is so exhausted that she must sleep soon; and
then I will lie down.' I suppose he thought there was no help for it, for
he drew back for me to pass; but I was grieved to hear his footsteps for
a long time after that pacing slowly up and down, and it was more for his
sake than my own that I was glad when Miss Darrell's moans ceased, and
the more quiet regular breathing proved to me that she was asleep.

The passage was empty when I came out, and the first faint streak of dawn
was visible. It was too late then to think of going to bed. I lay down,
dressed as I was, and slept for a couple of hours; then the sunshine woke
me, and I got up and took my bath and felt refreshed.

Chatty brought me my tea early, and told me that Mr. Hamilton was walking
in the garden. 'And do you know, ma'am,' observed the girl breathlessly,
'something strange must have happened since last evening; for when I
looked out of my window before six this morning I saw master standing
before the door, and there was Leah, in her bonnet, speaking to him, and
she went off with Pierson, wheeling off her boxes on his truck. I do
believe she has really gone, ma'am, and not a creature in the house knows
it.'

'Never mind: it is not our business, Chatty; but I think I will go and
speak to your master when I have finished my tea.'

'I was to give you a message, ma'am,--that he would be glad if you could
join him in the garden as soon as you were up, as he had to go some
distance, and he wanted to tell you about it.' I put down my cup at once
when I heard this, and hurried out into the garden.

Mr. Hamilton was pacing up and down the asphalt walk as he had paced the
passage last night. He did not quicken his steps when he saw me, but
walked towards me slowly, with the gait of a man who has a load on his
mind.

'I hardly expected you so early. Have you had any rest at all?' looking
at me rather anxiously.

'Yes, thank you; I have slept for two hours. But you have not, Mr.
Hamilton'; for he was looking wretchedly worn and ill.

'Was it likely that I could sleep?' he returned impatiently. 'But I have
no time to waste. Atkinson will be round here directly with the dog-cart.
I am going off to Liverpool by the 12.10 train.'

'To Liverpool?' in unfeigned surprise.

'Yes; I have been thinking all night what is to be done about my
unfortunate cousin. She is dependent on me, and I cannot send her away
without finding her a home. That home,' pausing as though to give
emphasis to his words, 'can never be under my roof again.'

'I suppose not.'

'The sin is of too black a dye for me to bring myself to forgive her. If
I were to say that I forgive her I should lie.' And here his face became
dark again. 'She has disgraced that poor boy Eric, and driven him away
from his home; she has made Gladys's life wretched: her whole existence
must have been a tissue of deceit and treachery. How could I sleep when
I was trying to disentangle this mesh of deception and lies? how do I
know when she has been true or when wholly false?'

'I fear there has been little truth spoken to you, Mr. Hamilton.' I was
thinking of Gladys when I said that, but something in my words seemed to
strike him.

'Is there anything else I ought to know? But no, I have no time for that:
I must try and make some arrangements at once: she cannot break bread
with us again. The people I want to find are old patients of mine. I was
able to serve them once: I feel as though I have a claim on them.'

'But you will be back soon?' for I could not bear him to leave us alone.

'To-morrow morning. I will take the night train up, but I shall be
detained in London. Take care of Gladys for me, Miss Garston. Do not tell
her more than you think necessary. Do not let Etta see her, if you can
help it; but I know you will act for the best.' Then, as he looked at me,
his face softened for a moment. 'I wish I had not to leave you; but you
could send for Mr. Cunliffe.'

'Oh, there will be no need for that,' I returned hastily, for the thought
of the wretched woman upstairs would prevent me from sending for Uncle
Max. 'Come back as quickly as you can, and I will do my best for Gladys.'

'I know it. I can trust you,' he replied, very gently. 'Take care of
yourself also.' Then, as the wheels of the dog-cart sounded on the
gravel, he held out his hand to me gravely, and then turned away. A
moment afterwards I heard his voice speaking to Atkinson, and as I
entered the shrubbery Pierson was fastening the gate after them.




CHAPTER XLV

'THIS HOME IS YOURS NO LONGER'


There are long gray days in every one's life.

I think that day was the longest that I ever spent: it seemed as though
the morning would never merge into afternoon, or the afternoon into
evening. Of the night I could not judge, for I slept as only weary youth
can sleep.

Sheer humanity, the mere instinct of womankind, had obliged me to watch
by Miss Darrell through the previous night: for some hours her hysterical
state had bordered on frenzy. I knew sleep was the best restorative in
such cases: she would wake quieter. There would be no actual need for my
services, and unless she sent for me I thought it better to leave her
alone: she was only suffering the penalty of her own sin, the shame of
detected guilt. There was no sign of real penitence to give me hope for
the future.

I found Gladys awake when I returned from the garden: in spite of my
anxiety, it gave me intense pleasure to hear her greeting words.

'Oh, Ursula, come and kiss me; it is good morning indeed. I woke so
happy; everything is so lovely,--the sunshine, and the birds, and the
flowers!' And, with a smile, 'I wished somebody could have seen--"my
thoughts of Max."' And then, still holding me fast, 'I do not forget my
poor boy, in spite of my happiness, but something tells me that Eric will
soon come back.'

'He might have been here now,' I grumbled, 'if you had allowed me to tell
your brother'; for those few reproachful words haunted me.

'Yes, dear; I know I was wrong,' she answered, with sweet candour. 'Giles
is so kind now that I cannot think why I was so reserved with him; but of
course,' flushing a little, 'I was afraid of Etta.'

'I suppose that was the reason,' I returned, busying myself about the
room; for I did not care to pursue the subject. Mr. Hamilton's few words
had convinced me that he thought it would be wiser to leave Gladys in
ignorance of what was going on until Miss Darrell was out of the house.
She had borne so much, and was still weak and unfit for any great
excitement. My great fear was lest Miss Darrell should force her way
into Gladys's presence and disturb her by a scene; and this fear kept
me anxious and uneasy all day.

Gladys was a trifle restless; she wanted a drive again, and when I made
her brother's absence a pretext for refusing this, she pleaded for a
stroll in the garden. It was with great difficulty that I at last induced
her to remain quietly in her room. But when she saw that I was really
serious she gave up her wishes very sweetly, and consoled herself by
writing to Max, in answer to a letter that he had sent under cover to me.

It was nearly noon before Chatty brought me a message that Miss Darrell
was just up and dressed, and wished to speak to me; and I went at once to
her.

The usually luxurious room had an untidy and forlorn aspect. The crumpled
Indian dressing-gown and the breakfast-tray littered the couch;
ornaments, jewellery, and brushes strewed the dressing-table. Miss
Darrell was sitting in an easy-chair by the open window. She did not
move or glance as I entered in the full light. She looked pinched and
old and plain. Her eyelids were swollen; her complexion had a yellowish
whiteness; as I stood opposite to her, I could see gray hairs in the
smooth dark head; before many years were over Miss Darrell would look an
old woman. I could not help wondering, as I looked at her, how any one
could have called her handsome.

'Chatty says Leah has gone,' she said, in a voice fretful with misery.
'I told her that that was too good news to be true. Is it true, Miss
Garston?'

'Yes; she has gone.'

'I am glad of it,' with a vixenish sharpness that surprised me. 'I hated
that woman, and yet I was afraid of her too: she got me in her toils, and
then I was helpless. Where has Giles gone, Miss Garston? Chatty said he
went off in a dog-cart with his portmanteau.'

How I wished Chatty would hold her tongue sometimes! but most likely Miss
Darrell had questioned her.

'Mr. Hamilton's business is not our affair,' I returned coldly.

'That means I am not to ask; but all the same you are in his secret,'
with one of her old sneers. 'Will he be back to-night?'

'No, not to-night; to-morrow morning early.'

'That is all I want to know, Miss Garston,' hesitating a little
nervously. 'I have never liked you, but all the same I have not injured
you.'

'Have you not, Miss Darrell?'

'No,' very uneasily; but she did not meet my eyes. 'I defy you to prove
that I have. Still, if I were your enemy, ought you not to heap coals of
fire on my head?'

'Possibly.'

My coolness seemed to frighten her; she lost her sullen self-possession.

'Have you no heart?' she said passionately. 'Will you not hold up a
finger to help me? You have influence with Giles; do not deny it. If you
ask him to keep me here he will not refuse you, and you will make me your
slave for life.'

I heard this proposition with disgust. She could cringe to me whom she
hated. I shook my head, feeling unable to answer her.

'I could help you,' she persisted, fixing her miserable eyes on me. 'Oh,
I know what you want: you cannot hide from me that you are unhappy. I
know where the hindrance lies; one word from me would bring Giles to your
feet. Am I to say that word?'

'No,' I returned indignantly. 'Do you think that I would owe anything
to you? I would rather be unhappy all my life than be under such an
obligation. You are powerless to harm me, Miss Darrell; your plots are
nothing to me.'

'And yet a word from me would bring him to your feet.'

'I do not want him there,' I replied, irritated at this persistence.
'I do not wish you to mention his name to me; if you do so again I will
leave you.'

'On your head be your own obstinacy,' she returned angrily; but I could
see the despair in her eyes, and I answered that.

'Miss Darrell,' I went on, more gently, 'I cannot help you in this. How
could I ask Mr. Hamilton to keep you under his roof, knowing that you
have poisoned his domestic happiness? Even if I could be so mad or
foolish, would he be likely to listen to me?'

'He would listen to you,' half crying: 'you know he worships the ground
you walk on.'

I tried to keep back the rebellious colour that rose to my face at her
words.

'Do not cheat yourself with this insane belief,' I returned quietly. 'Mr.
Hamilton is inexorable when he has decided on anything.'

'Inexorable! you may well say so!' rocking herself in an uncontrollable
excitement. 'Giles is hard,--cruel in his wrath: he will send me away and
never see me again.' And now the tears began to flow.

'Miss Darrell,' I continued pityingly, 'for your own sake listen to me a
moment. You have failed most miserably in the past: let the future years
be years of repentance and atonement. Mr. Hamilton will not forgive until
you have proved yourself worthy of forgiveness: remember you owe the
future to him.'

She stared at me for a moment as though my words held some hope for her;
then she turned her back on me and went on rocking herself. 'Too late!'
I heard her mutter: 'I cannot be good without him.' And, with a strange
sinking of heart, I left the room.

She could bring him to my feet with a word. Was this the truth, or only
an idle boast? No matter; I would not owe even his love to this woman.
'I can live without you, Giles,--my Giles,' I whispered; but hot tears
burnt my cheeks as I spoke.

In the afternoon I saw Miss Darrell pacing up and down the asphalt walk.
Gladys saw her too, and turned away from the window rather nervously.
'How restless Etta seems!' she said once; but I made no answer. Towards
evening I heard her footsteps perambulating the long passage, and softly
turned the key in the lock without Gladys noticing the movement. Gladys
noticed very little in that sweet dreamy mood that had come to her; her
own thoughts occupied her; her lover's letter had more than contented
her.

About ten o'clock I went in search of Chatty, and came face to face with
Miss Darrell. She was in her crumpled yellow dressing-gown, and her dark
hair hung over her shoulders; her eyes looked bright and strange. I moved
back a step and laid my hand on the handle.

She greeted this action with a disagreeable laugh.

'I suppose you heard me trying the door just now. Yes, I wanted to see
Gladys; I wished to make some one feel as wretched as I do myself; but
you were too quick for me. Do you always keep your patients under lock
and key?'

'Sometimes,' laconically, for I disliked her manner more than ever
to-night: it was not the first time that I had fancied that she had had
recourse to some form of narcotic. 'Why do you not go to bed, Miss
Darrell?'

'Perhaps I shall when I have thoroughly tired myself. These passages have
rather a ghastly look: they remind me of Leah, too,' with a shudder.
'Good-night, Miss Garston; pleasant dreams to you. I suppose you have
not thought better of what I said about Giles?'

'No, certainly not,' retreating into my room and locking the door in a
panic. I heard a husky laugh answer me. Perhaps last night's watching had
tired my nerves, for it was long before I could compose myself to sleep.

The night passed quietly, and I woke, refreshed, to the sound of summer
rain pattering on the shrubs. The little oak avenue looked wet and
dreary; but no amount of rain or outward dreariness could damp me, with
the expectation of Mr. Hamilton's return; and I helped Chatty arrange our
rooms with great cheerfulness.

He came back earlier than I expected. I had hardly finished settling
Gladys for the day,--she took great pains with her toilet now, and was
hard to please in the matter of ruffles and ornaments,--when Chatty told
me that he wished to speak to me a moment.

I made some excuse and joined him without delay. He looked much as he
had the previous morning,--very worn and tired, and his eyes a little
sunken; but he greeted me quietly, and even kindly; he asked me if I felt
better, and how Gladys was. I was rather ashamed of my nervous manner of
answering, but that odious speech of Miss Darrell would come into my
mind when he looked at me.

'Chatty says my cousin is in the dining-room: do you mind coming down
with me for a few minutes? I do not wish to see her alone.'

Of course I signified my willingness to accompany him, and he walked
beside me silently to the dining-room door.

Miss Darrell was sitting on the circular seat looking out on the oak
avenue; she did not turn her head, and there was something hopeless in
the line of her stooping shoulders. I saw her hands clutch the cushions
nervously as her cousin walked straight to the window.

'Etta,' he began abruptly, 'I wish you to listen to me a moment. I will
spare you all I can, for Aunt Margaret's sake: I do not intend to be more
hard with you than my duty demands.'

'Oh, Giles!' raising her eyes at this mild commencement; but they dropped
again at the sight of the dark impenetrable face, which certainly had no
look of pity on it. She must have felt then, what I should certainly have
felt in her place, that any prayers or tears would be wasted on him.

'It would be useless, and worse than useless,' he went on, 'to point out
to you the heinousness of your sin,--perhaps I should say crime. All
these years you have not faltered in your relentless course; no pity for
me and mine has touched your heart; you have allowed our poor lad to
wander about the world as an outcast; you have suffered Gladys to carry a
heavy and bitter weight in her bosom. Pshaw! why do I reiterate these
things? you know them all.'

'Giles, I have loved you in spite of it all! Be merciful to me!' But he
went on as though he heard her no more than the rain dripping on the
leaves.

'This home is yours no longer; you are no fit companion for my sisters,
even if I could bear to shelter a traitor under my roof. If I know my
present feelings, I will never willingly see your face again: whether I
ever do see it depends on your future conduct.'

'Oh, for pity's sake, Giles!' She was writhing now. In spite of all her
sins against him, she had loved him in her perverse way.

'I have found you a home far from here,' he continued in the same
chilling manner, 'and to-morrow morning you will be taken to it. The
Alnwicks are kind, worthy people--not rich in this world's goods, or what
the world would call refined. I was able to help them once when they were
in bitter straits: in return they have acceded to my request and have
offered you a home.'

'I will not go!' she sobbed passionately. 'I would rather you should kill
me, Giles, than treat me with such cruelty!'

'They are old,' he went on calmly, 'but more with trouble than years, and
they have no one belonging to them, and they promise to treat you like a
daughter. You will be in comfort, but not luxury: luxury has been your
curse, Etta. A moderate sum will be paid to you yearly for your dress and
personal expenses, but if overdrawn or misapplied it will be curtailed
or stopped altogether. Your maintenance will be arranged between the
Alnwicks and myself, and, unless I give you permission to write,--which
is distinctly not my purpose now,--no letter from you will be read or
answered, and I forbid all such communication.'

'I cannot--I cannot bear it!' she screamed, springing to her feet; but he
waved her back with such a look that her arms dropped to her side.

'No scene, I beg,' in a tone of disgust. 'Let me finish quietly what I
have to say.--Miss Garston,' turning to me, 'could you spare Chatty to
help my cousin pack her clothes and books? for we shall start early in
the morning. Mr. Alnwick has promised to meet us half-way.'

'I can set Chatty at liberty for the day,' was my answer.

'Very well. Etta, you may as well go at once. Your meals will be served
in your room. I do not wish you to resume your usual habits: this is my
house, not yours. Your only course now must be obedience and submission.
Let your future conduct atone to me for the past, that I may remember
without shame that I have a cousin Etta.'

He turned away then, but I could see his face working. He had dearly
loved this miserable creature, and had cared for her as though she had
been his sister, and he could not leave her without this vague word of
hope. Did she understand him, I wonder,--that in the future he might
bring himself to forgive her? I heard her weeping bitterly in her room
afterwards, and Chatty, in her fussy, good-natured way, trying to comfort
her: the girl had a kind heart.

Early in the afternoon Mr. Hamilton joined us in the turret-room.
Directly he came in and sat down by his sister's couch I knew that he
meant to tell her everything,--that he thought it best that she should
hear it from him.

He told it very quietly, without any explanation or expression of
feeling; but it was not possible for Gladys to hear that Eric's name was
cleared without keen emotion. 'Oh, thank God for this other mercy!' she
sobbed, bursting into tears; and presently, as he went on, she crept
closer to him, and before he had finished she had clasped his arm with
her two hands and her face was hidden in them.

'Oh, Giles! if you only knew what she has made me suffer!' she whispered.
'We should have understood each other better if Etta had not always come
between us.'

'You are right; I feel you are right, Gladys,' stroking her fair hair as
he spoke; then she looked up and smiled affectionately in his face.

'Ursula, will you leave me alone with my brother for a little? There is
something I want to tell him!' And I went away at once.

As I opened the door, Chatty came down the passage with a pile of
freshly-ironed linen. Her round face looked unusually disturbed.

'She is going on so, ma'am,' she whispered, 'it is dreadful to hear her.
She is making us turn out all her drawers, and there are three big trunks
to fill. She says she is going away for ever.'

'Hush!' I returned, with a warning look, for Miss Darrell was at the door
watching us. She was in her yellow dressing-gown, and the old pinched
look was still in her face.

'Why are you stopping to gossip, Chatty?' she said querulously. 'I shall
not have finished until midnight at this rate. Leah would have packed by
this time.' And Chatty, with rather a frightened look, carried in her
pile of clean linen.

I strolled about the garden for an hour, and then went back to the house.
Mr. Hamilton was just closing the door of his sister's room. He looked
happier, I thought: the dark, irritable expression had left his face. He
came forward with a smile.

'Gladys has been telling me, Miss Garston. I am more glad than I can say.
Cunliffe is a fine fellow; there is no one that I should like so well for
a brother.'

'I knew you would say so. Uncle Max is so good.'

'Well, he has secured a prize,' with a slight sigh. 'Gladys is a noble
woman; she will make her husband a happy man. There is little doubt that
Etta did mischief there; but Gladys was not willing to enter on that part
of the subject. I begin to think,' with a quick, searching look that
somewhat disturbed me, 'that we have not yet reached the limits of her
mischief-making.'

I could have told him that I knew that. I think he meant to have said
something more; but a slight movement in the direction of Miss Darrell's
room made us separate somewhat quickly. I saw Mr. Hamilton glance
uneasily at the half-closed door as he went past it.

I found Gladys in tears, but she made me understand with some difficulty
that they were only tears of relief and joy.

'But I am sorry too, because I have so often grieved him so,' she said,
drying her eyes. 'Oh, how good Giles is!--how noble!--and I have
misunderstood him so! he was so glad about Max, and so very very kind.
And then we talked about Eric. He says we were wrong to keep it from him,
that even you were to blame in that. He thinks so highly of you, Ursula;
but he said even good people make mistakes sometimes, and that this was
a great mistake. I was so sorry when he said that, that I asked his
pardon over and over again.'

I felt that I longed to ask his pardon too; and yet the fault had been
Gladys's more than mine; but I knew she had talked enough, so I kissed
her, and begged her to lie down and compose herself while I got the tea
ready.

We did not see Mr. Hamilton again that night. Gladys and I sat by the
open window, talking by snatches or relapsing into silence. When she had
retired to rest I stole out into the passage to see what had become of
tired Chatty, but I repented this charitable impulse when I saw Miss
Darrell standing in the open doorway opposite, as though she were
watching for some one.

On seeing me she beckoned imperiously, and I crossed the passage with
some reluctance.

'Come in a moment: I want to speak to you,' she said hoarsely; and I
saw she was much excited. 'I sent Chatty to bed. We have finished
packing,--oh, quite finished. Giles will be satisfied with my obedience;
and now I want you to tell me what you and he were saying about Mr.
Cunliffe.' But her white lips looked whiter as she spoke.

'Excuse me, Miss Darrell,' I returned; but she stopped me.

'You are going to say that it is no business of mine. You are always
cautious, Miss Garston; but I am resolved to know this, or I will refuse
to leave the house to-morrow morning. Are they engaged? is that what
Giles meant when he said he was a fine fellow?'

I thought it wiser to tell her the truth. 'They are engaged.'

'And Giles knows it, and gives his consent?'

'Most gladly and willingly.'

'I wish I could kill them both!' was the sullen reply; and then, without
taking any further notice of me, she sat down on one of the boxes and hid
her face in her hands, and when I tried to speak to her she shook her
head with a gesture of impatience and despair.

'The game is played out; I may as well go,' she muttered; and seeing her
in this mood I thought it better to leave her; but I slept uneasily, and
often started up in bed fancying I heard something. I remembered her
words with horror: the whole scene was like a nightmare to me,--the
disordered and desolate room, with the great heavily-corded trunks, the
dim light, the wretched woman in her yellow dressing-gown sitting
crouched on a box. 'Can this be love?' I thought, with a shudder,--'this
compound of vanity and selfishness?' and I felt how different was my
feeling for Giles. The barrier might never be broken down between us, I
might never be to him more than I was now, but all my life I should love
and honour him as the noblest man I knew on God's earth.

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