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Pushed The Balls And The Board From Him,  Half Ashamed Of His

Employment. "To Think You Should Catch Me At This!" He Exclaimed. "Maude

Brought It To Me Yesterday,  Thinking I Was Dull Up Here."

 

"As Good That As Anything Else. I Often Think What A Miserably Restless

Invalid _I_ Should Make. But Now,  What's Wrong With You?"

 

"Well,  I Suppose It's The Heart."

 

"The Heart?"

 

"The Doctors Say So. No Doubt They Are Right; Those Complaints Are

Hereditary,  And My Father Had It. I Got Quite Unfit For Duty,  And They

Told Me I Must Go Away For Change; So I Wrote To Maude,  And She Took Me

In."

 

"Yes,  Yes; We Are Glad To Have You,  And Must Try And Get You Well,  Bob."

 

"Ah,  I Can't Tell About That. He Died Of It,  You Know."

 

"Who?"

 

"My Father. He Was Ill For Some Time,  And It Wore Him To A Skeleton,  So

That People Thought He Was In A Decline. If I Could Only Get Sufficiently

Well To Go Back To Duty,  I Should Not Mind; It Is So Sad To Give Trouble

In A Strange House."

 

"In A Strange House It Might Be,  But It Would Be Ungrateful To Call This

One Strange," Returned Lord Hartledon,  Smiling On Him From His Pleasant

Blue Eyes. "We Must Get You To Town And Have Good Advice For You. I

Suppose Hillary Comes Up?"

 

"Every-Day."

 

"Does _He_ Say It's Heart-Disease?"

 

"I Believe He Thinks It. It Might Be As Much As His Reputation Is Worth

To Say It In This House."

 

"How Do You Mean?"

 

"My Mother Won't Have It Said. She Ignores The Disease Altogether,  And

Will Not Allow It To Be Mentioned,  Or Hinted At. It's Bronchitis,  She

Tells Everyone; And Of Course Bronchitis It Must Be. I Did Have A Cough

When I Came Here: My Chest Is Not Strong."

 

"But Why Should She Ignore Heart-Disease?"

 

"There Was A Fear That Maude Would Be Subject To It When She Was A Child.

Should It Be Disclosed To Her That It Is My Complaint,  And Were I To Die

Of It,  She Might Grow So Alarmed For Herself As To Bring It On; And

Agitation,  As We Know,  Is Often Fatal In Such Cases."

 

Lord Hartledon Sat In A Sort Of Horror. Maude Subject To Heart-Disease!

When At Any Moment A Certain Fearful Tale,  Of Which He Was The Guilty

Centre,  Might Be Disclosed To Her! Day By Day,  Hour By Hour,  He Lived In

Dread Of This Story's Being Brought To Light. This Little Unexpected

Communication Increased That Dread Fourfold.

 

"Have I Shocked You?" Asked Captain Kirton. "I May Yet Get The Better Of

It."

 

"I Believe I Was Thinking Of Maude," Answered Hartledon,  Slowly

Recovering From His Stupor. "I Never Heard--I Had No Idea That Maude's

Heart Was Not Perfectly Sound."

 

"And I Don't Know But That It Is Sound; It Was Only A Fancy When She Was

A Child,  And There Might Have Been No Real Grounds For It. My Mother Is

Full Of Crotchets On The Subject Of Illness; And Says She Won't Have

Anything About Heart-Disease Put Into Maude's Head. She Is Right,  Of

Course,  So Far,  In Using Precaution; So Please Remember That I Am

Suffering From Any Disorder But That," Concluded The Young Officer With

A Smile.

 

"How Did Yours First Show Itself?"

 

"I Hardly Know. I Used To Be Subject To Sudden Attacks Of Faintness; But

I Am Not Sure That They Had Anything To Do With The Disease Itself."

 

Just What Maude Was Becoming Subject To! She Had Told Him Of A

Fainting-Fit In London; Had Told Him Of Another Now.

 

"I Suppose The Doctors Warn You Against Sudden Shocks,  Bob?"

 

"More Than Against Anything. I Am Not To Agitate Myself In The Least; Am

Not To Run Or Jump,  Or Fly Into A Temper. They Would Put Me In A Glass

Case,  If They Could."

 

"Well,  We'll See What Skill Can Do For You," Said Hartledon,  Rousing

Himself. "I Wonder If A Warmer Climate Would Be Of Service? You Might

Have That Without Exertion,  Travelling Slowly."

 

"Couldn't Afford It," Was The Ingenuous Answer. "I Have Forestalled My

Pay As It Is."

 

Lord Hartledon Smiled. Never A More Generous Disposition Than His; And If

Money Could Save This Poor Bob Kirton,  He Should Not Want It.

 

Walking Forth,  He Strolled Down The Road Towards Calne,  Intending To Ask

A Question Or Two Of The Surgeon. Mr. Hillary Was At Home. His House Was

At This End Of Calne,  Just Past The Rectory And Opposite The Church,  With

A Side View Of Clerk Gum's. The Door Was Open,  And Lord Hartledon

Strolled Into The Surgery Unannounced,  To The Surprise Of Mr. Hillary,

Who Did Not Know He Was At Calne.

 

The Surgeon's Opinion Was Not Favourable. Captain Kirton Had

Heart-Disease Beyond Any Doubt. His Chest Was Weak Also,  The Lungs Not

Over-Sound; Altogether,  The Honourable Robert Kirton's Might Be Called

A Bad Life.

 

"Would A Warmer Climate Do Anything For Him?" Asked Lord Hartledon.

 

The Surgeon Shrugged His Shoulders. "He Would Be Better There For Some

Things Than Here. On The Whole It Might Temporarily Benefit Him."

 

"Then He Shall Go. And Now,  Hillary,  I Want To Ask You Something

Else--And You Must Answer Me,  Mind. Captain Kirton Tells Me The Fact Of

His Having Heart-Disease Is Not Mentioned In The House Lest It Should

Alarm Lady Hartledon,  And Develop The Same In Her. Is There Any Fear Of

This?"

 

"It Is True That It's Not Spoken Of; But I Don't Think There's Any

Foundation For The Fear."

 

"The Old Dowager's Very Fanciful!" Cried Lord Hartledon,  Resentfully.

 

"A Queer Old--Girl," Remarked The Surgeon. "Can't Help Saying It,  Though

She Is Your Mother-In-Law."

 

"I Wish She Was Any One Else's! She's As Likely As Not To Let Out

Something Of This To Maude In Her Tantrums. But I Don't Believe A Word

Of It; I Never Saw The Least Symptom Of Heart-Disease In My Wife."

 

"Nor I," Said The Doctor. "Of Course I Have Not Examined Her; Neither

Have I Had Much Opportunity For Ordinary Observation."

 

"I Wish You Would Contrive To Get The Latter. Come Up And Call Often;

Make Some Excuse For Seeing Lady Hartledon Professionally,  And Watch Her

Symptoms."

 

"I Am Seeing Her Professionally Now; Once Or Twice A Week. She Had One Or

Two Fainting-Fits After She Came Down,  And Called Me In."

 

"Kirton Says He Used To Have Those Fainting-Fits. Are They A Symptom Of

Heart-Disease?"

 

"In Lady Hartledon I Attribute Them Entirely To Her Present State Of

Health. I Assure You,  I Don't See The Slightest Cause For Fear As Regards

Your Wife's Heart. She Is Of A Calm Temperament Too; As Far As I Can

Observe."

 

They Stood Talking For A Minute At The Door,  When Lord Hartledon Went

Out. Pike Happened To Pass On The Other Side Of The Road.

 

"He Is Here Still,  I See," Remarked Hartledon.

 

"Oh Dear,  Yes; And Likely To Be."

 

"I Wonder How The Fellow Picks Up A Living?"

 

The Surgeon Did Not Answer. "Are You Going To Make A Long Stay With Us?"

He Asked.

 

"A Very Short One. I Suppose You Have Had No Return Of The Fever?"

 

"Not Any. Calne Never Was More Healthy Than It Is Now. As I Said To Dr.

Ashton Yesterday,  But For His Own House I Might Put Up My Shutters And

Take A Lengthened Holiday."

 

"Who Is Ill At The Rectory? Mrs. Ashton?"

 

"Mrs. Ashton Is Not Strong,  But She's Better Than She Was Last Year.

I Have Been More Concerned For Anne Than For Her."

 

"Is _She_ Ill?" Cried Lord Hartledon,  A Spasm Seizing His Throat.

 

"Ailing. But It's An Ailing I Do Not Like."

 

"What's The Cause?" He Rejoined,  Feeling As If Some Other Crime Were

About To Be Brought Home To Him.

 

"That's A Question I Never Inquire Into. I Put It Upon The Air Of The

Rectory," Added The Surgeon In Jesting Tones,  "And Tell Them They Ought

To Go Away For A Time,  But They Have Been Away Too Much Of Late,  They

Say. She's Getting Over It Somewhat,  And I Take Care That She Goes Out

And Takes Exercise. What Has It Been? Well,  A Sort Of Inward Fever,  With

Flushed Cheeks And Unequal Spirits. It Takes Time For These Things To

Be Got Over,  You Know. The Rector Has Been Anything But Well,  Too; He

Is Not The Strong,  Healthy Man He Was."

 

"And All _My_ Work; My Work!" Cried Hartledon To Himself,  Almost Gnashing

His Teeth As He Went Back Down The Street. "What _Right_ Had I To Upset

The Happiness Of That Family? I Wish It Had Pleased God To Take Me First!

My Father Used To Say That Some Men Seem Born Into The World Only To Be A

Blight To It; It's What I Have Been,  Heaven Knows."

 

He Knew Only Too Well That Anne Ashton Was Suffering From The Shock

Caused By His Conduct. The Love Of These Quiet,  Sensitive,  Refined

Natures,  Once Awakened,  Is Not Given For A Day,  But For All Time; It

Becomes A Part Of Existence; And Cannot Be Riven Except By An Effort That

Brings Destruction To Even Future Hope Of Happiness. Not Even Mr.

Hillary,  Not Even Dr. And Mrs. Ashton,  Could Discern The Utter Misery

That Was Anne's Daily Portion. She Strove To Conceal It All. She Went

About The House Cheerfully,  Wore A Smiling Face When People Were Present,

Dressed Well,  Laughed With Their Guests,  Went About The Parish To Rich

And Poor,  And Was Altogether Gay. Ah,  Do You Know What It Is,  This

Assumption Of Gaiety When The Heart Is Breaking?--This Dread Fear Lest

Those About You Should Detect The Truth? Have _You_ Ever Lived With This

Mask Upon Your Face?--Which Can Only Be Thrown Off At Night In The

Privacy Of Your Own Chamber,  When You May Abandon Yourself To Your

Desolation,  And Pray Heaven To Take You Or Give You Increased Strength To

_Live_ And _Bear_? It May Seem A Light Thing,  This State Of Heart That I

Am Telling You About; But It Has Killed Both Men And Women,  For All That;

And Killed Them In Silence.

 

Anne Ashton Had Never Complained. She Did Everything She Had Been Used To

Doing,  Was Particular About All Her Duties; But A Nervous Cough Attacked

Her,  And Her Frame Wasted,  And Her Cheek Grew Hectic. Try As She Would

She Could Not Eat: All She Confessed To,  When Questioned By Mrs. Ashton,

Was "A Pain In Her Throat;" And Mr. Hillary Was Called In. Anne Laughed:

There Was Nothing The Matter With Her,  She Said,  And Her Throat Was

Better; She Had Strained It Perhaps. The Doctor Was A Wise Doctor; His

Professional Visits Were Spent In Gossip; And As To Medicine,  He Sent Her

A Tonic,  And Told Her To Take It Or Not As She Pleased. Only Time,  He

Said To Mrs. Ashton--She Would Be All Right In Time; The Summer Heat Was

Making Her Languid.

 

The Summer Heat Had Nearly Passed Now,  And Perhaps Some Of The Battle Was

Passing With It. None Knew--Let Me Repeat It--What That Battle Had Been;

None Ever Can Know,  Unless They Go Through It Themselves. In Miss

Ashton's Case There Was A Feature Some Are Spared--Her Love Had Been

Known--And It Increased The Anguish Tenfold. She Would Overcome It If She

Could Only Forget Him; But It Would Take Time; And She Would Come Out Of

It An Altogether Different Woman,  Her Best Hope In Life Gone,  Her Heart

Dead.

 

"What Brought Him Down Here?" Mentally Questioned Mr. Hillary,  In An

Explosion Of Wrath,  As He Watched His Visitor Down The Street. "It Will

Undo All I Have Been Doing. He,  And His Wife Too,  Might Have Had The

Grace To Keep Away For This Year At Least. I Loved Him Once,  With All His

Faults; But I Should Like To See Him In The Pillory Now. It Has Told On

Him Also,  If I'm Any Reader Of Looks. And Now,  Miss Anne,  You Go Off From

Calne To-Morrow An I Can Prevail. I Only Hope You Won't Come Across Him

In The Meantime."

Chapter 24 (Under The Trees)

It Was The Same Noble-Looking Man Calne Had

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