Elster's Folly, Mrs. Henry Wood [ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt] 📗

That She Was Unwise In Assuming Her Own Will So

Promptly,  With Little Regard To Consulting His,  She Might Yet Discover.

 

At Versailles That Day--To Which Place They Went In Accordance With

Maude's Wish--There Occurred A Rencontre Which Lord Hartledon Would

Willingly Have Gone To The Very Ends Of The Earth To Avoid. It Happened

To Be Rather Full For Versailles; Many Of The Visitors In Paris

Apparently Having Taken It Into Their Minds To Go; Indeed,  Maude's Wish

Was Induced By The Fact That Some Of Her Acquaintances In The Gay Capital

Were Going Also.

 

You May Possibly Remember A Very Small Room In The Galleries,  Exceedingly

Small As Compared With The Rest,  Chiefly Hung With English Portraits.

They Were In This Room,  Amidst The Little Crowd That Filled It,  When Lord

Hartledon Became Aware That His Wife Had Encountered Some Long-Lost

Friend. There Was Much Greeting And Shaking Of Hands. He Caught The

Name--Kattle; And Being A Somewhat Singular Name,  He Recognised It For

That Of The Lady Who Had Been Sojourning At Cannes,  And Had Sent The News

Of Miss Ashton's Supposed Engagement To The Countess-Dowager. There Was

The Usual Babble On Both Sides--Where Each Was Staying,  Had Been Staying,

Would Be Staying; And Then Lord Hartledon Heard The Following Words From

Mrs. Kattle.

 

"How Strange I Should Have Seen You! I Have Met You,  The Fords,  And The

Ashtons Here,  And Did Not Know That Any Of You Were In Paris. It's True

I Only Arrived Yesterday. Such A Long Illness,  My Dear,  I Had At Turin!"

 

"The Ashtons!" Involuntarily Repeated Maude. "Are They Here?--In The

Chateau?" And It Instantly Occurred To Her How She Should Like To Meet

Them,  And Parade Her Triumph. If Ever A Spark Of Feeling For Her Husband

Arose Within Maude's Heart,  It Was When She Thought Of Anne Ashton. She

Was Bitterly Jealous Of Her Still.

 

"Yes,  Here; I Saw Them Not Three Minutes Ago. They Are Only Now On Their

Road Home From Cannes. Fancy Their Making So Long A Stay!"

 

"You Wrote Mamma Word That Miss Ashton Was About To Marry Some Colonel

Barnaby."

 

Mrs. Kattle Laughed. It Is Possible That Written News Might Have Been

_Asked For_ By The Countess-Dowager.

 

"Well,  My Dear,  And So I Did; But It Turned Out To Be A Mistake. He Did

Admire Her; There Was No Mistake About That; And I Dare Say She Might

Have Had Him If She Liked. How's Your Brother And His Poor Leg?"

 

"Oh,  He Is Well," Answered Maude. "Au Revoir; I Can't Stand This Crush

Any Longer."

 

It Was Really A Crush Just Then In The Room; And Though Maude Escaped

From It Dexterously,  Lord Hartledon Did Not. He Was Wedged In Behind Some

Stout Women,  And Had The Pleasure Of Hearing Another Word Or Two From

Mrs. Kattle.

 

"Who Was That?" Asked A Lady,  Who Appeared To Be Her Companion.

 

"Lady Hartledon. He Was Only The Younger Brother Until A Few Months Ago,

But The Elder One Got Drowned In Some Inexplicable Manner On His Own

Estate,  And This One Came Into The Title. The Old Dowager Began At Once

To Angle For Him,  And Succeeded In Hooking Him. She Used To Write Me Word

How It Progressed."

 

"She Is Very Beautiful."

 

"Very."

 

Lord Hartledon Made His Escape,  And Found His Wife Looking Round For Him.

She Was Struck By The Aspect Of His Face.

 

"Are You Ill,  Percival?"

 

"Ill? No. But I Don't Care How Soon We Get Out Of These Rooms. I Can't

Think What Brings So Many People In Them To-Day."

 

"He Has Heard That _She's_ Here,  And Would Like To Avoid Her," Thought

Maude As She Took The Arm He Held Out. "The Large Rooms Are Empty Enough,

I'm Sure," She Remarked. "Shall We Have Time To Go To The Trianon?"

 

"If You Like. Yes."

 

He Began To Hurry Through The Rooms. Maude,  However,  Was In No Mood To Be

Hurried,  But Stopped Here And Stopped There. All At Once They Met A Large

Party Of Friends; Those She Had Originally Expected To Meet. Quitting Her

Husband's Arm,  She Became Lost Amongst Them.

 

There Was No Help For It; And Lord Hartledon,  Resigning Himself To The

Detention,  Took Up His Standing Before The Pictures And Stared At Them,

His Back To The Room. He Saw A Good Deal To Interest Him,  In Spite Of His

Rather Tumultuous State Of Mind,  And Remained There Until He Found

Himself Surrounded By Other Spectators. Turning Hastily With A View To

Escaping,  He Trod Upon A Lady's Dress. She Looked Up At His Word Of

Apology,  And They Stood Face To Face--Himself And Miss Ashton!

 

That Both Utterly Lost Their Presence Of Mind Would Have Been Conclusive

To The Spectators,  Had Any Regarded Them; But None Did So. They Were

Strangers Amidst The Crowd. For The Space Of A Moment Each Gazed On The

Other,  Spell-Bound. Lord Hartledon's Honest Blue Eyes Were Riveted On Her

Face With A Strangely Yearning Expression Of Repentance--Her Sweet Face,

Which Had Turned As White As Ashes. He Wore Mourning Still For His

Brother,  And Was The Most Distinguished-Looking Man In The Chateau That

Day. Anne Was In A Trailing Lilac Silk,  With A White Gossamer-Bonnet.

That The Heart Of Each Went Out To The Other,  As It Had Perhaps Never

Gone Out Before,  It May Be No Sin To Say. Sin Or No Sin,  It Was The

Truth. The Real Value Of A Thing,  As You Know,  Is Never Felt Until It

Is Lost. For Two Months Each Had Been Dutifully Striving To Forget The

Other,  And Believed They Were Succeeding; And This First Accidental

Meeting Roused Up The Past In All Its Fever Of Passion.

 

No More Conscious Of What He Did Than If He Had Been In A Dream,  Lord

Hartledon Held Out His Hand; And She,  Quite As Unconscious,  Mechanically

Met It With Hers. What Confused Words Of Greeting Went Forth From His

Lips He Never Knew; She As Little; But This State Of Bewildered Feeling

Lasted Only A Minute; Recollection Came To Both,  And She Strove To

Withdraw Her Hand To Retreat.

 

"God Bless You,  Anne!" Was All He Whispered,  His Fervent Words Marred By

Their Tone Of Pain; And He Wrung Her Hand As He Released It.

 

Turning Away He Caught The Eyes Of His Wife Riveted On Them; She Had

Evidently Seen The Meeting,  And Her Colour Was High. Lord Hartledon

Walked Straight Into The Next Room,  And Maude Went Up To Anne.

 

"How Do You Do,  Miss Ashton? I Am So Glad To Meet You. I Have Just Heard

You Were Here From Mrs. Kattle. You Have Been Speaking To My Husband."

 

Anne Bowed; She Did Not Lose Her Presence Of Mind At _This_ Encounter. A

Few Civil Words Of Reply Given With Courteous Dignity,  And She Moved Away

With A Bright Flush On Her Cheek,  Towards Dr. And Mrs. Ashton,  Who Were

Standing Arm-In-Arm Enraptured Before A Remote Picture,  Cognizant Of

Nothing Else.

 

"How Thin She Looks!" Exclaimed Maude,  As She Rejoined Her Husband,  And

Took His Arm.

 

"Who Looks Thin?"

 

"Miss Ashton. I Wonder She Did Not Fling Your Hand Away,  Instead Of

Putting Her Own Into It!"

 

"Do You Wish To See The Trianon? We Shall Be Late."

 

"Yes,  I Do Wish To See It. But You Need Not Speak In That Tone: It Was

Not My Fault That We Met Her."

 

He Answered Never A Syllable. His Lips Were Compressed To Pain,  And His

Face Was Hectic; But He Would Not Be Drawn Into Reproaching His Wife By

So Much As A Word,  For The Sort Of Taste She Was Displaying. The Manner

In Which He Had Treated Miss Ashton And Her Family Was Ever In His Mind,

More Or Less,  In All Its Bitter,  Humiliating Disgrace. The Worst Part Of

It To Val Was,  That There Could Be No Reparation.

 

The Following Day Lord Hartledon And His Wife Took Their Departure From

Paris; And If Anything Could Have Imparted Especial Gratification On His

Arriving In London At The Hired House,  It Was To Find That His Wife's

Mother Was Not In It. Val Had Come Home Against His Will; He Had Not

Wished To Be In London That Season; Rather Would He Have Buried Himself

And His Haunting Sense Of Shame On The Tolerant Continent; And He

Certainly Had Not Wished His Wife To Make Her Debut In A Small Hired

House. When He Let His Own,  Nothing Could Have Been Further From His

Thoughts Than Marriage. As To This House--Lady Kirton Had Told Her

Daughter She Would Be Disappointed In It; But When Maude Saw Its

Dimensions,  Its Shabby Entrance,  Its Want Of Style Altogether,  She Was

Dismayed. "And After That Glowing Advertisement!" She Breathed

Resentfully. It Was One Of The Smallest Houses Facing The Green Park.

 

Hedges Came Forward With An Apology From The Countess-Dowager. An Apology

For Not Invading Their House And Inflicting Her Presence Upon Them

Uninvited! A Telegraphic Despatch From Lord Kirton Had Summoned Her To

Ireland On The Previous Day; And Val's Face Grew Bright As He Heard It.

 

"What Was The Matter,  Hedges?" Inquired His Mistress. "I'm Sure My

Brother Would Not Telegraph Unless It Was Something."

 

"The Message Didn't Say,  My Lady. It Was Just A Few Words,  Asking Her

Ladyship To Go Off By The First Train,  But Giving No Reason."

 

"I Wonder She Went,  Then," Observed Val To His Wife,  As They Looked Into

The Different Rooms. But Maude Did Not Wonder: She Knew How Anxious Her

Mother Was To Be On Good Terms With Her Eldest Son,  From Whom She

Received Occasional Supplies. Rather Would She Quarrel With The Whole

World Than With Him.

 

"I Think It A Good Thing She Has Gone,  Maude," Said He. "There Certainly

Would Not Have Been Room For Her And For Us In This House."

 

"And So Do I," Answered Maude,  Looking Round Her Bed-Chamber. "If Mamma

Fancies She's Going To Inflict Herself Upon Us For Good She's Mistaken.

She And I Might Quarrel,  Perhaps; For I Know She'd Try To Control Me.

Val,  What Are We To Do In This Small House?"

 

"The Best We Can. We Have Made The Bargain,  You Are Growing--For That Matter,  Xmas Is Coming!--But Still

We Are Very Shelterless. I Think I Would Like To Plant In Bed A,

_Inter Alia_--Some Shrubby Things. Now I Know Your Views About Moving

Shrubs Are Somewhat Wider Than Those Of The Every-Day Gardener's--But

Do You Think I Dare Plant A Bush Of Lauristinus Now? It Would Have To

Travel A Little Way,  I Fancy. There Is No Man Actually In Taunton,  I

Fear,  With Good Shrubs. I Mean Also To Get Some Japanese Maples. I

Think I Would Like A Copper-Coloured-Leaved _Nut Tree_. Are Nuts

Hardy? I Fear Gum Cistus Is Coming Into Flower--And Unfit To Move! How

About Rhododendrons? The Soil Here Is Said To Suit Them Wonderfully. I

Could Not Pretend To Buy Peat For Them--But I Know Hardy Sorts Will Do

In A Firm Fair Soil,  And I Should Like To Plant A Lilac One--A

Crimson--A Blush--And A White. I Think They Would Do Fairly And

Shelter Small Fry.

 

_Can I Risk It Now?_ And How About Hardy Azaleas--Things I Love! If

You Say--We Are Too Near Summer Sun For Them To Get Established--I

Must Wait Till Autumn.

 

How Has Mrs. Going Stood The Biting Winds? Very Unfavourable For One's

Aches And Pains?

 

Tell Her I Have Got One Of Those Rather Queer Yellow Flowers You

Condescended To Notice!--To Bring To Her After Easter.

 

Is It Not Terrible About Prince Leopold? That Poor Young Wife--And The

Queen! What Bitter Sorrow She Has Known; Also I Do Regard The Loss As

A Great One For The Country,  He Was So Enlightened And So Desirous Of

Use In His Generation.

 

Yours,  J.H.E.

 

 

 

 

To Mrs. Jelf.

 

 

 

 

My Dearest Marny,

 

Thank You,  Dear,  With Much Love For Your Easter Card. It Is

Lovely (And Easter Cards Are Not Very Beautiful As A Rule).

It Is On A Little Stand On My Knick-Knack Table--And Looks So Well!

 

I Send You A Few Bits From My Garden As An Easter Greeting. They Are

Not Much--But We Are In A "Nip" Of Bitter N.E. Winds--And Nothing Will

"Come Out."

 

Also I Rather Denuded My Patch To Send A Large Box To Undine To Make

The Easter Wreaths For My Mother's Grave. I Was Really Rather Proud Of

What I Managed To Scrape Together--Every Bit Out Of My Very Own

Patch--And Consequently Of My Very Own Planting!

 

I've Got Neuralgia To-Day With The Wind And A Fourteen-Miles Drive For

Luncheon And Two Sets Of Callers Since I Got Back!--So I Can't Write A

Letter--But I Want You To Tell Me When You Think There's A Chance Of

Your Taking A Run To See Me! I Seem To Have Such Lots To Say! I Have

Found Another Charm (Besides Red Pots) Of Our Market. If One Goes

_Very Early_ On Saturday--One Gets Such Nice Old-Fashioned Flowers,

"Roots," And Big Ones Too--Very Cheap! It's A Most