Volume Three—Chapter Five.
Mr Selwood Hears News.
There was a week clear before the plot was to have effect, and the place was wonderfully quiet. The vicar, looking very pale and anxious, was sitting in his study on the morning after the meeting at the Bull, when a note was brought to him from the Big House, and he coloured slightly as he read it.
“Tell the messenger I will be up directly,” he said; and as the maid left the room, “what is wrong now? Come, come, be a man.”
He smiled to himself as he took up his hat and stick, and walked up the street, to be greeted here and there with friendly nods.
He was shown at once into the drawing-room, where Mrs Glaire was seated with Eve, and after a kindly, sad greeting, the latter left the room.
“I have good news for you, Mr Selwood,” said Mrs Glaire, smiling, but looking worn and pale.
“I’m very glad,” said the vicar, pressing her hand.
“Richard has promised me that if the men do not come in, he will give way and reopen the works.”
“And when?” said the vicar, joyfully.
“He will call the men together this day week, for the furnaces to be lit, so as to begin work on the Monday.”
“Mrs Glaire, this is indeed good news,” said the vicar. “May I see him and congratulate him?”
“I think it would be better not,” said Mrs Glaire. “But,” she continued, watching his face as she spoke, “I have other news for you.”
The vicar bowed.
“Yes,” she said; “but first of all, though, these communications are made to you in strict confidence. You must not let the matter be known in the town, because my son would rather that the men gave way.”
“If they do not, he really will?”
“He has given me his faithful promise,” said Mrs Glaire, “and he will keep it now.”
“I will not doubt him,” said the vicar. “I am very, very glad. And your other news?” he said, smiling.
“My son will be married very shortly.”
“Married?” said the vicar, starting; “and to Daisy Banks?”
“No!” exclaimed Mrs Glaire, in a short thick voice, a spasm seeming to catch her, as she spoke. “To his cousin, to whom he is betrothed.”
There was a dead silence as the vicar, whose face was of an ashen pallor, looked straight before him at vacancy, while Mrs Glaire sat watching him, with her hand placed to her side.
“You do not congratulate me,” she said at last in a piteous tone. “Mr Selwood, dear friend—the only friend I can fly to in this time of trouble—you will help me?”
“Help you?” he said in a stony way. “How can I help you?”
“I have striven so for this,” she continued, speaking hastily. “They have long been promised to each other, and it will be for the best.”
“For the best,” he said, slowly repeating her words.
“Richard has been very wild, but he has given me his word now. He has not been what he should, but this marriage will sober and save him. Eve is so sweet, and pure, and good.”
“So sweet—and pure—and good,” he repeated softly.
“She will influence him so—it will make him a good man.”
“If woman’s power can redeem, hers will,” he said, in the same low tone.
“But you hardly speak—you hardly say a word to me,” cried Mrs Glaire, piteously; “and I have striven so for this end. I prevailed upon him to end this lock-out, and he has given way to me, and all will be well.”
“Mrs Glaire,” said the vicar, sternly, “do you believe that your son has inveigled away that poor girl?”
“No, no,” she cried, “I am as certain of his innocence as that I sit here.”
“And Miss Pelly—what does she believe?”
“That he is innocent,” exclaimed Mrs Glaire.
“And—and—does she consent to this union?”
“Yes, yes,” cried Mrs Glaire eagerly. “She feels hurt, and knows that she makes some sacrifice after my son’s ill-treatment; but she forgives him, knowing that it will save poor Richard, and it is for my sake too.”
“Poor girl!” he said, beneath his breath.
“God bless her! She is a good, good girl,” cried Mrs Glaire.
“God bless her!” he said softly. “Mrs Glaire, do you think she loves him?”
“Yes, yes; she has told me so a dozen times.”
“And you feel that this is for the best? Would it not be better to let there be a year’s term of probation first? It is a solemn thing this linking of two lives together.”
“Oh, yes, it is for the best, Mr Selwood—dear friend; and they must not wait. The wedding must be next week.”
The vicar rose with the same stony look upon Iiis face; and, knowing what she did, Mrs Glaire’s heart bled for him, and the tears stole down her cheeks, as she caught his hand and pressed it, but he seemed to heed it not, for he was face to face with a great horror. He had told himself that he could master his passion, and that it was mastered; but now—now that he was told that the woman he dearly loved was to become the wife of another, and of such a man, he felt stunned and helpless, and could hardly contain his feelings as he turned and half staggered towards the door.
“Mr Selwood, you are shocked, you are startled,” cried Mrs Glaire, clinging to his hand. “You must not go like this.”
He turned to look at her with a sad smile, but he did not speak.
“Eve wishes to see you,” she faltered, hardly daring to say the words.
“To see me?” he cried hoarsely; and her words seemed to galvanise him into life. Then, to himself, “I could not bear it—I could not bear it.”
At that moment the door opened, and he made another effort over himself to regain his composure, as Eve came forward, holding out her hand, which he reverently kissed.
“Aunt has told you, Mr Selwood,” she said, in a low constrained tone.
“My child,” he said softly, and speaking as a father would to his offspring, “yes.”
She gave a sigh of relief, looking at his cold, sad face, as if she wished to read that which was written beneath a mask of stone.
“Aunt thinks it would be for the best,” she said, speaking slowly, and with a firmness she did not possess. “And it is to be soon.”
He bowed his head, in token of assent.
“I have a favour to ask of you—Mr Selwood,” said Eve, holding out her trembling hand once more, but he did not take it.
“Yes?” he said, in a low constrained way.
“I want you to forgive Richard, and be friends.”
“Yes, yes; of course,” he said hastily.
“And you will marry us, Mr Selwood,” continued Eve.
“I? I?” he exclaimed, with a look of horror upon his face. “Oh, no, no: I could not.”
Eve looked at him in a strangely startled way, and for the moment her calmness seemed to have left her, when Mrs Glaire interposed.
“For both our sakes; pray do not say that,” she cried; and a curious look passed over the vicar’s face.
“Do you wish it, Miss Pelly?” he said softly.
“Yes; indeed, yes,” exclaimed Eve, gazing in his eyes; and then there was silence for a few moments, when, making a mighty effort over himself, the vicar took a step forward, bent down, and kissed her forehead, and said—
“God bless you! May you be very happy.”
“And you will?” exclaimed Mrs Glaire.
“Yes,” he said, after a moment’s pause, and with his eyes half closed. “I will perform the ceremony.”
“Thank you—thank you,” exclaimed Mrs Glaire, as she caught his hand. “Richard, here is Mr Selwood.”