meanwhile, mrs. rent was with charlock in the library. she saw before her a tall, thick-set man, whose hard features and smileless eyes impressed her with a fancy that he was the central figure in some dark tragedy. yet there was that vague something about john charlock that appealed to the woman's sympathies, for he, too, had suffered like herself. the same woman who had ruined arnold rent had brought shame and disgrace to john charlock. he stood bowing gravely till mrs. rent came forward and timidly held out her hand. then, at length, he spoke.
"this is a cruel trick that fate has played us," he said. "believe me, if i had known what had happened i should not be here this evening. i suppose mr. westlake has explained to you how the misunderstanding came about. and i think i know now why you did not get my letter. i had placed it with others on the hall table two days before. it was the day i lost my home. you see, i have been in great money difficulties, due principally to the extravagance of the woman who is my wife. one of my creditors stripped my house of everything, and left me nothing but the bare walls. i am not complaining. i had fair warning, and the money was honestly due to the man. doubtless, in the confusion of the moment, my letters were lost sight of. but perhaps you will think that i ought not to stay any longer. i daresay i can find some accommodation in the village till the morning."
"indeed, you cannot," mrs. rent exclaimed, all her hospitable instincts on fire. "there is no house of entertainment within some miles of this and the few cottages around are impossible. i appreciate the delicacy of your feelings, but you will have to remain till the morning. and the thing is no fault of yours."
"my wife's friends will tell you otherwise," charlock said, with a bitter smile. "they will tell you that she is a sweet, saintly creature who put up with my cruel indifference till human nature could bear the strain no longer. indeed, your son was good enough to tell me so. as a friend of my wife's, he ventured to expostulate with me, a comparative stranger, on the way i treated her."
all the blood came flaming to mrs. rent's face.
"he didn't," she said hoarsely. "he never went so far as that. it is incredible. what did you say?"
"i said nothing. i never say anything. the heart knoweth its own bitterness. there is no man on earth who has learnt the wisdom of that saying more than myself. and why should i try to put the world right? in the eyes of most people i am a boor and a brute. i had no business to tie a beautiful woman to a personality like mine. why should i waste my time in proving to the world that the world is wrong? why should i proclaim from the housetops that i am a broken and disappointed man, with nothing but my work to fall back upon?"
charlock appeared to have forgotten himself. the words burst in a stream from his lips as he paced up and down the room. never before had he shown his heart like this to a stranger. yet there was something like sorrowful sympathy in the eyes of his hostess that seemed to draw confidences from him.
"i think i understand," mrs. rent said gently. "is your wife, then, so wonderfully prepossessing?"
"i think she is the most beautiful woman i have ever seen," charlock said, in the same tense tones. "she is outwardly the embodiment of womanly innocence and purity, and i gave her all the heart that a lonely and self-contained man possesses. how she has repaid me i leave you to find out for yourself. and yet, if she were to come back to me now and place her hands upon my shoulders and ask me to forgive her, i should be as wax in her hands. wait till you see the woman called kate charlock before you judge your son too harshly. but, then, you are a woman, and do not know how we men feel when we come in contact with temptation. mind you, i am not defending myself. i am going to make no defence. when your son came to me and spoke as he did i saw that heart and soul he was the slave of my wife. he did not know it. he did not realise it at the moment, but i let him chide me where ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have kicked him out of the house. but i was patient. i asked him to come four-and-twenty hours later, when i would show him what i was going to do. at the end of that time i knew that my home would be no more than a name. and then i forgot all about my scheme of revenge. and when the time came and my home was no more, i stood within the bare walls and made my wife an offer. there was to be an end of all her shameful extravagance. i was going into a cottage, where we should live without a servant till my debts were paid. my wife refused to go, and in a fit of sullen indifference i turned away and left her in the empty house.... it was then that your son came along.... i can say no more. i leave the rest for you to imagine. and now, if you will permit me, i will seek some lodging for the night."
gently but firmly mrs. rent refused to listen to the suggestion. till the morning, at any rate, she would not hear of charlock seeking quarters elsewhere. it would be a dull and dreary evening, but that was inevitable in any case. it was a quiet and somewhat strained meal from which they all rose presently with feelings of undisguised thankfulness. it was barely dark, and the sea shimmered in the afterglow of the sunset. charlock crossed over towards the french windows and stepped out upon the lawn, followed by ethel.
"this is a lovely spot," he said. "isn't there a wonderful walk here through the rose gardens leading to the sea? would you mind showing it to me? i may never have another chance of seeing it. won't you come?"
"we will all go," mrs. rent suggested. "anything is better than sitting brooding in the house. ethel, will you run upstairs and get a wrap for me?"
they started off presently, ethel and charlock a little in front of the rest. for a time they were silent, till, at length, the perfect beauty of the scene fell like a charm upon charlock and he began to talk. it was a new thing for him to have a companion in sympathy with himself. but the responsive look in ethel's deep eyes seemed to draw him to her. it was not so much what he said as what he implied that led ethel to believe that he was both a miserable and a misunderstood man. the church clock was striking the hour of ten before they turned and made their way again towards the house.
"i believe i have been talking for a good hour," charlock said. "i never remember doing such a thing before in all my life. i hope you will not run away with the idea that i am a loquacious man."
westlake and mrs. rent drew up to the rest, and they all stood enjoying the fragrance of the night. mrs. rent turned at last with a suggestion that it was getting chilly, and that it would be more prudent to go indoors.
"a few minutes longer," charlock pleaded. "to an artist such a scene is exceedingly attractive. one could forget all one's troubles in a place like this."
before mrs. rent could make any reply a servant came across the lawn and spoke to her mistress. she seemed to be excited, and her eyes danced with pleasure.
"what is it, mary?" mrs. rent asked.
"mr. arnold has come back unexpectedly, madam," the maid replied. "he would like to see you in the library, please. i forgot to say that there is a lady with him."
"say i will come," mrs. rent said faintly.
now that the crisis had arrived, the unhappy mother felt like shirking it altogether. she had not forgotten what charlock had said. she was prepared to make every allowance for her son. but, even then, she would have to do violence to her feelings. she only wanted to be just, to do that which was right and proper. and, after all, she only had john charlock's word as to the way in which he had been treated. and she was bound to confess that he did not look in the least like a man capable of making a woman happy. perhaps his wife was the injured saint she took herself to be, and her son might be acting from the highest and purest motives. such things had happened over and over again, despite the fact that the world was cold and critical. but the matter had to be faced, and the sooner the better.
in a dreamy sort of way mrs. rent saw her son's smiling face. she noticed the heightened colour on his cheeks. then she saw the most beautiful woman her eyes had ever fallen upon. oh, it was impossible to believe that this was a cold, scheming creature playing for her own hand. no one could look upon that face and think her anything but innocent. and mrs. rent thought she could vouch for her son.
as she stood there she saw the smile on kate charlock's face soften wonderfully. the woman advanced towards her with an obvious intention shining in her eyes.
she stepped back instinctively.
"no, no," she cried. "the time is not ripe for that. i cannot allow you to kiss me—yet."
