kate was in the house at last—in the long drawing-room, where the servants had lighted the lamps. though pale and agitated, she could not resist the temptation to glance furtively about her. she had not lived under the same roof with a great artist for five years without learning something of the value of beautiful things. she was not slow to appraise the works of art. in her eyes the place was a trifle old-fashioned and out of date. already she could see her way to make an imposing salon of the room. then, as she saw rent looking eagerly towards her, she lowered her eyelids and sighed deeply.
"i ought not to have come in with you," she murmured. "i see that it was a mistake. i ought to have waited outside till you had seen your mother and prepared her for my coming. it would have been so much more——"
the speaker's voice trailed off into a murmur. she was going to say "dramatic," but she stopped just in time. at the same moment there were sounds of voices outside, and the outline of dim figures could be seen advancing across the misty lawn. instinctively kate charlock drew closer to rent's side.
"my dearest, there is nothing to be frightened of," he said soothingly. "that was my mother's voice you heard. see, she is coming this way. i can't make out who the others are, but one of them looks to me like our solicitor, mr. westlake. if so, it is rather fortunate. westlake always takes such a common-sense view of matters. he is sure to be on our side."
there was nothing more to be said, nothing to do but wait for the coming of mrs. rent. and she seemed in no hurry to detach herself from her companions. why did she not come? arnold wondered. usually she was so eager to see him. in the selfishness of the moment it had not occurred to rent that the ordeal his mother was about to go through would be more distressful than his own. and the cruel shock of finding that he was here in defiance of her telegram was not calculated to make the mother's heart any the less sore and angry. mrs. rent stood outside, her hands tightly clasped, looking first from one to the other for support.
"oh, this is downright cruel," ethel burst out. "he ought never to have come like this. if he came at all, it should have been alone. my dear aunt, sit down and collect yourself. i know you will be brave and steadfast when it comes to the point, or perhaps you would like mr. westlake——"
"no, i must go through with it myself," mrs. rent said. "this is a burden that no one can share with me."
"i am afraid the fault is mine," charlock said. "i ought to have gone away when i found out whose house i had come into. i should not have hesitated. it is a cruel stroke of fortune, and no one regrets it more than myself."
"it is no fault of yours," mrs. rent murmured. "will you mind talking to miss hargrave while mr. westlake and i go into the house? i should like him to be near me, though i do not wish him to be present at the interview."
ethel and charlock stood alone together, silent and anxious. they watched the others as they went slowly towards the house, then charlock touched his companion's arm.
"we had better not stay here," he suggested. "we can see and hear too much. do you know, i feel as if, in a measure, i have thrust this black humiliation and disgrace upon you. i feel hot and cold all over that i should even be discussing the thing with one so young and innocent as yourself."
"and why?" ethel said. "i am not a child. i have heard of these things before, though i never dreamt that i should live to see the like of this at alton lee."
"it is like a romance," charlock laughed bitterly. "what puppets we are in the hands of fate! and i thought once that i was a strong man capable of defying the world and shaping my own destiny. i daresay you will say that it is my own fault, and perhaps you will be right. i don't know why i should be talking to you like this. but the peacefulness of the night and the look of sympathy in your eyes invite my confidence. but i will swear to you that if i could have foreseen that this honourable old family would be disgraced in this fashion, i would never have let my home go. i would have worked all the harder to gratify my wife's extravagance. i would have made it worth her while to stay. perhaps i was too candid, too brutal. do you suppose she would have left me as she did if she had come back the other night and found the homestead intact? oh, dear, no. with all her air of purity and sweetness, my wife always had a shrewd sense of business and self-interest."
"yet you loved her once," ethel murmured.
"my dear young lady, i love her now. she has only to say one word and the whole past is forgotten. it may seem strange to you, brought up as you have been, that a man should love a woman for whom he has the deepest contempt. but there are many such cases in the world. call it madness, call it fascination—anything you like. it is possible for a man to love a woman devotedly and yet not to speak to her, though she is under the same roof as himself. that has been my case during the last four years. i have despised myself for my weakness—i, who in other matters can be so strong. i am a self-contained man, and five years ago i thought i had found paradise. then it began slowly to dawn upon me that i had made a mistake. there was sweetness and melancholy and fascination in my wife's smiling face, but no atom of sympathy behind it. she had no feeling for me. she had no kind of pride in my work. even when she began to hang the millstone of debt about my neck she had no concern, though on more than one occasion i was on the verge of a breakdown. but i don't ask you to take all these things for granted. i don't even ask you to believe me. you will know my wife later, and it is probable that she will convince you that i am a brute and a boor and not fit to mix with decent people."
ethel made no reply. there was something in this man's grim tones that moved her strongly. someone was coming from the house. she could hear footsteps on the gravel. then the light from the drawing-room windows fell upon the face of a woman who was slowly crossing the lawn. her features were serene and beautiful. her eyes glistened with heavy tears. it was only for a moment that ethel saw the vision before it vanished in the shadows. the girl felt charlock's hand tighten on her arm.
"my wife," he said hoarsely. "she has come out to leave her lover and his mother alone. did you see her face?"
"indeed i did," ethel murmured. "the beauty of it! and such an air and expression of sweetness and resignation i never saw before. it seems impossible to believe——"
"i see you pause," charlock said grimly. "i know exactly what you are going to say. it does seem impossible. before god, it seems to me sometimes that it is impossible and that i am only dreaming. it would go hard with me if we both stood before a jury of our countrymen and she told her tale after i had finished mine. but i won't say more. i will leave you to judge for yourself. you have seen us both, and you must rely upon your own instincts. i won't ask you to give any verdict, because i feel sure it will be against me."
"i am very, very sorry," ethel murmured.
"of course you are. but the point is, whom are you sorry for? there is no halfway in the business."
ethel hesitated for a moment. she hardly seemed to know what to say. a bitter smile crossed charlock's lips.
"let me put it plainly to you," he said. "and yet i don't know why i should worry you with this business. i have never spoken to a living soul like this before. at any rate, i am going to be candid now. let us assume that my wife has a genuine grievance against me. say that i am too great a bully and savage for any decent woman to live with. i am prepared to admit that i did turn her out of doors in a brutal fashion. it is possible she can justify her conduct in her own eyes and that she is here with the purest and most disinterested of motives. mind, in her way, she is a good woman—that is, she is highly virtuous. she would never forget herself. she would never step over the border, not even for the sake of arnold rent and all the fortune he is to inherit. no doubt she has persuaded herself that she has been right in coming here, that she has a moral claim upon mrs. rent's protection. she would argue it all out in her own mind. she would wait for me to commit some blazing indiscretion, and then invoke the aid of the law to release her from such a creature as myself. she would think that the proper thing to do. and after that she would be in a position to marry arnold rent and settle here as a county lady. whether she would keep it up or not is another matter. and now, after i have told you this, let me repeat my question. you said you were sorry just now. is your sympathy for her or for me?"
ethel hesitated for a moment, and charlock watched her with an anxiety which surprised himself.
"i think," she said in a voice little above a whisper, "that i am the more sorry for—you."
