IX
THE END OF A MYSTERY
On the following afternoon Nina went to the Wade Home to see the victim of the accident. She was received by the matron, a middle-aged, kindly woman, who was openly pleased with the concern her visitor exhibited.
"Oh, he's better," she said, "much better. But I'm afraid I can't let you see him now, as he is asleep. Dr. Wade examined him himself yesterday. And he was here again this morning. His opinion is that the spine has been only bruised. While unconsciousness lasted, it was, of course, difficult to tell. But the patient became conscious this morning, and Dr. Wade said he was very well pleased with him on the whole. He thinks we shall not have him very long. He's a bright little chap and thoroughly likes his quarters. His father is a dock labourer. Everyone knows the Wade Home, and all the patients consider themselves very lucky to be here. You see, the doctor is such a favourite wherever he goes."
"I have never met Dr. Wade," Nina said. "I suppose he is a great man?"
The matron's jolly face glowed with enthusiasm.
"He is indeed," she said—"a splendid man. You probably know him by another name. They say he is a leading physician in the West End. But we City people know him and love him by his assumed name only. Why, only lately he cut short his holiday on purpose to be near one of his patients who was dying. If you could manage to come to-morrow afternoon after four o'clock, no doubt you would see him. It is visiting-day, and he is always here on Sunday afternoons between three and six in case the visitors like to see him. I should be delighted to give you some tea. And you could then see the little boy."
"Thank you," Nina said. "I will."
That evening she chanced to meet Archie Neville at a friend's dinner-table and imparted to him her purpose.
"Jove!" he said. "Good idea! I'll come with you, shall I?"
"Please not in the hansom!" she said.
"Not a bit of it," returned Archie. "But you needn't be nervous. I've sacked that man. No matter! We'll go in a wheelbarrow if you think that'll be safer."
Nina laughed and agreed to accept his escort. Archie's society was a very welcome distraction just then.
To her husband she made no mention of her intention. She had established the custom of going her own way at all times. It did not even cross her mind to introduce the subject. He was treating her with that sarcastic courtesy of his which was so infinitely hard to bear. It hurt her horribly, and because of the pain she avoided him as much as she dared.
She did not know how he spent his time on Sundays. Except for his presence at luncheon she found she was left as completely to her own devices as on other days.
She had agreed to drive Archie to the Wade Home in her husband's landaulette.
Wingarde left the house before three and she was alone when Archie arrived.
The latter looked at her critically.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Nothing," she returned instantly. "Why?"
"You're looking off colour," he said.
Nina turned from him impatiently.
"There is nothing the matter with me," she said. "Shall we start?"
Archie said no more. But he glanced at her curiously from time to time. He wondered privately if her husband's society were driving her to that extreme which she had told him she might reach eventually.
Visitors were being admitted to the Wade Home when they arrived. They were directed to the ward where lay the boy in whom they were interested. Nina presented him with flowers and a book, and sat for some time talking with him. The little fellow was hugely flattered by her attentions, though too embarrassed to express his pleasure in words. Archie amused himself by making pennies appear and disappear in the palms of his hands for the benefit of a sad-faced urchin in the next bed who had no visitors.
In the midst of this the matron bustled in to beg Nina and her companion to take a cup of tea in her room.
"Dr. Wade is here and sure to come in," she said. "I should like you to meet him."
Nina accordingly took leave of her protégé, and, followed by Archie, repaired to the matron's room.
The windows were thrown wide open, for the afternoon was hot. They sat down, feeling that tea was a welcome sight.
"I have a separate brew for Dr. Wade," said the matron cheerily. "He likes it so very strong. He almost always takes a cup. There! I hear him coming now."
There sounded a step in the passage and a man's quiet laugh. Nina started slightly.
A moment later a voice in the doorway said:
"Ah! Here you are, Mrs. Ritchie! I have just been prescribing a piece of sugar for this patient of ours. Her mother is waiting to take her away."
Nina was on her feet in an instant. All the blood seemed to rush to her heart. Its throbs felt thick and heavy. On the threshold her husband stood, looking full at her. In his arms was a little child.
"Dr. Wade!" smiled the matron. "You do spoil your patients, sir. There! Let me take her! Please come in! Your tea is just ready. I was just talking about you to Mrs. Wingarde, who came to see the boy who was knocked down by a hansom last week. Madam, this is Dr. Wade."
She went forward to lift the child out of Wingarde's arms. There followed a silence, a brief, hard-strung silence. Nina stood quite still. Her hands were unconsciously clasped together. She was white to the lips. But she kept her eyes raised to Wingarde's face. He seemed to be looking through her, and in his eyes was that look with which he had regarded her when he had saved her life and Archie's two days before.
He spoke almost before the matron had begun to notice anything unusual in the atmosphere.
"Ah!" he said, with a slight bow. "You know me under different circumstances—you and Mr. Neville. You did not expect to meet me here?"
Archie glanced at Nina and saw her agitation. He came coolly forward and placed himself in the breach.
"We certainly didn't," he said. "It's good sometimes to know that people are not all they seem. I congratulate you, er—Dr. Wade."
Wingarde turned his attention to his wife's companion. His face was very dark.
"Take the child to her mother, please, Mrs. Ritchie!" he said curtly, over his shoulder.
The matron departed discreetly, but at the door the child in her arms began to cry.
Wingarde turned swiftly, took the little one's face between his hands, spoke a soft word, and kissed it.
Then, as the matron moved away, he walked back into the room, closing the door behind him. All the tenderness with which he had comforted the wailing baby had vanished from his face.
"Mr. Neville," he said shortly, "my wife will return in the car with me. I will relieve you of your attendance upon her."
Archie turned crimson, but he managed to control himself—more for the sake of the girl who stood in total silence by his side than from any idea of expediency.
"Certainly," he said, "if Mrs. Wingarde also prefers that arrangement."
Nina glanced at him. He saw that her lip was quivering painfully. She did not attempt to speak.
Archie turned to go. But almost instantly Wingarde's voice arrested him.
"I can give you a seat in the car if you wish," he said. He spoke with less sternness, but his face had not altered.
Archie stopped. Again for Nina's sake he choked back his wrath and accepted the churlishly proffered amendment.
Wingarde drank his tea, strolling about the room. He did not again address his wife directly.
As for Nina, though she answered Archie when he spoke to her, it was with very obvious effort. She glanced from time to time at her husband as if in some uncertainty. Finally, when they took leave of the matron and went down to the car she seemed to hail the move with relief.
Throughout the drive westwards scarcely a word was spoken. At the end of the journey Archie turned deliberately and addressed Wingarde. His face was white and dogged.
"I should like a word with you in private," he said.
Wingarde looked at him for a moment as if he meant to refuse. Then abruptly he gave way.
"I am at your service," he said formally.
And Archie marched into the house in Nina's wake.
In the hall Wingarde touched his shoulder.
"Come into the smoking-room!" he said quietly.